A Wife's Dark Talent Ch. 05

"Henry, just where do you think you are going?"

And Henry could not believe he had to answer that question, so he just mutedly stared at his wife. So she added.

"Don't be rude. We are all still eating. Sit down."

And Henry, wishing he could just vanish into thin air, since he could find no other way out of this nightmare, just sat. While Jaime and Jess just went back to talking to each other. Though this time Greg, too amused by it all said.

"Henry, I see they got you totally henpecked, pussy whipped, these days. You know what? I just noticed my shoe lace is untied. Why don't you tie it for me?"

And put his foot out for Henry. Greg's own wife quickly said.

"Greg, don't be an ass!"

But to Henry's dismay his own wife Jaime just smiled full of malice. And it almost looked like she nodded "go ahead". This can't be happening! Thought Henry. As he realized that unless Jess shut the whole thing down quickly. Hoping that Jess did shut it down. His own wife Jaime was not beyond making him bend down to tie another man's shoe.

*****

Henry was in shell shock by the time the brunch was over. And cock-cage or not, was wondering whether Jaime was not too much. He could not handle this woman. Clearly, way out of his combat league, in addition to the sexual one. Being married to her was like being in cage match with a lioness. With no weapons and in the nude. He smarted and almost had tears running down his cheeks at several points during the day, most of which the spent out and about on usual Saturday activities. Till they got home in the evening. And his sultry svelte, blonde wife interlaced her fingers with his, and proceeded to drag him upstairs up to their bed while saying.

"Come, Honey."

Henry was past resisting. He was no match for the devil in stiletto heels. So he just followed till they got to the side of the bed and his wife began to take all her clothes off. First shoes, then top, then jeans, and lingerie last. Then she turned to her husband's pants and underwear. And finally, she fully removed the cock cage that enclosed his manhood. To lie back onto the bed with her chest pushed out and her thighs spread wide, and say to her husband.

"Fuck me!"

Henry was hesitant. She may look vulnerable in her nude feminine body. But demons can still be powerful even looking like that, he thought. Yet no sooner was his cock cage off, his manhood was standing erect and in full size. Fully lubricated already from all of Jaime's teases and humiliations of the day. Clamoring to take what was being offered. And Henry leaned over his wife to straddle her in bed. Grabbed her wrists and pined them above her in a tight one hand grip. Used his other hand to hold onto her throat. He did not turn that hold into a tight grip also, but god he wanted to! And Jaime only squirmed and moaned as he restrained her in place, like she loved it. The depraved bitch! Thought Henry, who soon was letting his torso down onto hers. Letting himself in her... and started hammering away harder and harder like an industrial jackhammer attached to large mining machine.

It felt good. Real good. Jaime was warm and wet. And she wrapped her legs around her husband's hips even as he brutalized her with his wrist, and even neck. grip. But Henry was so worked up from days of sexual, social, and psychological torture it did not take him long to explode his seed into his wife. And then he let go off her, even as he slumped his whole body weight on her. And then he did break into tears.

"It is ok Honey, let it all out."

Said his wife as she wrapped her now free arms around him and hushed him like a baby.

"I love you and I want you to be happy. It will all become easier once you accept it all. Just remember, you cannot drown if you are already dead."

She whispered in his ears like a seductive snake. And eventually Henry did calm. When he fell asleep in her arms.

At least that night Henry earned freedom from the cock-cage, and a place in bed by the side of his wife. For the next three nights and two days, in fact. But early Tuesday morning, when it came time for Jaime to leave on her business trip again, she reminded her husband.

"Henry, it is time for you to put the cage back on."

Which she did with cold detachment and authority, as she handed the device to him. There was not even a command in it. Just a matter of fact statement of the truth. And though Henry's heart began to wail like a tornado siren, he pulled his pants down and did as his Goddess Wife told him.

"I will write you brief texts after I am back from my dates, that was the agreement. But do not expect much more."

She said haughty and unreachable in a striking executive pencil skirt suit, with a fuchsia fitted bottomed down shirt, and black stiletto pumps. And left with her suitcase to board her ride to the private executive airport.

Henry's days when he was locked up and his wife was away were very long. He felt like an abandoned puppy dog, deprived of his Mistress, of love, and of direction. He could not wait to get home to obsess about his exquisite and cruel wife in private. Which is exactly what he did when he took their shared tablet computer, and began to replay Kiersten's date with Eric, the farm boy turned jock.

"I really enjoy strong, fit men."

Said Kiersten as she rubbed her almost bare pelvis in those ultra-low jeans against her date's crotch.

"I like to feel small and delicate in their big, muscular arms."

She whispered in his ears, as that man used his big, muscular hands to rub Henry's wife all along the lower back portion of her bared midriff. Right over the ultra slutty temporary black ink tramp stamp that Henry's wife had water-rubbed there. It was a geometric design with swirls that ended in sharp points. A bit like the openings on a violin or cello, but much more elaborate. The man's hands even went down towards Kiersten's butt, trying to get inside the jeans. But was prevented from going too far by how tight the jeans where painted onto Henry's wife body.

'And I really like it when those men give me a good, hard fuck."

Said Kiersten, and Henry shuddered at that.

Further ahead in the recording Henry marveled on how things had changed for his wife's date. He was on his knees, with his pants around his ankles. His little manhood standing erect despite it being the main target of Princess Kiersten cruel verbal broadside. As the Princess stood tall, nose turned up, lip curled, staring het date down in utter contempt.

"You uncouth farm boy! Who knows how you learned to fuck. I sure as hell do not want to think about it! You probably picked up a hockey stick to compensate for your lack of manhood! Thought it you swing it hard enough, maybe your dicklet would grow to be like your stick! You were probably so illiterate you did not even know that is not how it works!"

Henry thought his wife could be quite the pompous rich bitch if she wanted to be. It came natural to her. But he liked her in that impersonation. She looked hot to him like that. And unable to jack off, Henry's penis leaked in its cage.

At midnight Henry was ready and waiting for his wife's text. It was 12:10 and yet nothing. 12;20 and nothing, and Henry was beginning to get nervous. Then at 12:30 came the following text.

"Hi Henry, I had lots and lots of fun playing tonight. My date was actually a professor, like you. But he is actually very handsome, and a slick smooth talker that is always doing keynote speeches, publishing popular books, and going on TV. And he makes more than enough money to pay for your wife, because he has very lucrative consulting contracts."

"I actually send you a little pic too. I hope you enjoy it. Your wife."

Is all the text said. So then Henry fully opened the attached image, only to be flabbergasted by it. When he saw a close up of a high end business hotel bed. In the center a somewhat wrinkled, maybe sweaty, and certainly moist in the crotch exquisite black lace panty that he recognized as one his wife's most alluring ones. And right on top of it, a knotted closed condom full of what he presumed was semen.

Henry's heart split open like a seismic fault. But he managed to reply.

"Thank you for texting me Jaime. I love you Henry."

And tried to soothe himself to sleep.

The next day was hell for Henry, having waking nightmares of being replaced by a rich, sleek, smooth talking version of himself. He just wanted to forget about it and wondered why he had wanted Jaime to inform him about her dates. Sounded like a bad idea in retrospect. In any case at home he started watching Goddess Kiersten date videos again and it dawned on him, how skillful his wife was at holding all these men exactly where she wanted them. Like she was doing to him. How can you survive when it is a sexual fight to the death and you are outmatched? He did not know.

At 12:00 he started to wait again. Nothing by 12:10. Nothing by 12:20. 12:30 and still nothing, and now Henry was beginning to seriously loose his cool. And finally it was not till 12:50 that he got the following text.

"Even more fun tonight! My date was a real life rockstar. Real bad boy, with lots of sharp jewelry, predatory makeup, and scary tattoos. You would certainly know who he is, everybody does. He was on tour through the city these last couple of days and wanted some fun besides the thousands of groupies. Ironically, he wanted me to play a special kind of groupie. I always wanted to be one, so I really enjoyed myself."

"Tomorrow, Henry, the only time I have between my arrival and bedtime is the time I will use to catch up on Goddess Kiersten emails. If you want to be near me, you know what that means. Be ready when I get there, or I will do what I have to do alone."

"Finally, I send you a pic tonight as well. I made the mistake of only bringing regular sized condoms this trip. Like Patrick, my date tonight was anything but regular. So as I was playing with him in my hands, while he was between my legs, the condom broke. Made a bit of a mess. Ooops! Live and learn. Your wife."

And in great dread Henry fully opened the image to realize once again it was close up of a hotel bed. Another set of Jaime's most alluring black panties. And a condom on top of it. Except this time the condom was not knotted, and was obviously torn at the top. And the panties were white and crusty from what was obviously dried semen all over them.

"Goodnight Jaime. Thanks you for texting me at the end of your date."

Was all Henry replied before he started tearing around the house like a rabid man, till he calmed himself enough to climb into bed and try to go to sleep.

The following day he spend it like a love sick Mistress-withdrawn puppy dog again. And he basically rushed home to get ready for Jaime's return. He knew it would not be till past nine, but it could be soon after nine. So before she arrived, having made a decision to spend the remaining waking hours with his wife, Henry set it all up in advance for her. So that when Jaime finally arrived, dropped her suitcase, and changed into something more comfortable--this time one of her trademark short tight pieces of casual sultry sleepware--, she found her corner of the sunroom ready when she walked there with the light step of a ballerina.

The reading light was on. A glass of red wine was on the side table next to the lounge chair. Her personal computer was folded and on standby there too. And projecting forward from underneath the comfortable and stylish white leather accent chair, was a soft but firm rest for her feet. The face of a man, her husband, who waited still, and in silence.

Jaime never said hi to her husband. She merely opened her computer, and began to sip off her wine, as she scrolled and read through emails. Blocked and deleted many. Moved to folders some. And seemingly replied at least two. Henry was not sure. All he had to go by, were the clicking patterns of the computer keyboard and touchpad.

And the briny scent and taste of his wife's feet. The silky feel of her soft soles on his face. The majestic and out of reach beauty of her fair, and now bare, long slim legs rising above him. Which all but drugged him into a coma. Coma that his wife left him in as she finally got up and walked away one hour, forty five minutes later. Never having said a word to her husband that night. Who of course knew to spend the night downstairs.

*****

Friday was of course the day when Henry had learned to have the least expectations from his wife. The day when she became Goddess Kiersten for all intents and purposes, and Henry was little more than a necessary nuisance. So by now Henry had learned to look forward to the doll-up reveal, which is when he began to see a return from all his suffering. And that Friday night did not disappoint.

For when Goddess Kiersten came down the stairs, she was once again breathtaking. A fitted white button down shirt constituted her top, through which Henry could see a black lace bra that peeked through the far too many open buttons. A black pencil skirt which was very, very tight, but not so short so as to make it completely whorish. Over the knee for sure, but closer to the knee than midthigh. And a pair of knee-high black leather four inch stiletto boots, very slim fit around her feet, ankles and calves, that was the closest to traditional Dominatrix wear that Jaime had worn in any of her assignments. And even though that Dominatrix look was further accentuated by the sharp and scary needlelike heels being metal colored, and the metal zipper that ran at the back of the boots being prominent as well, it still did not constitute fetish wear, but rather very, very risqué and evocative streetwear. Jaime's lips were bright red, and her eyes a darker more muted shade of burnt red too. She had a hair bun very high in her head, a couple of strands loose. And what was most surprising to her husband, was that she was wearing a pair of glasses on her face. Jaime did not wear glasses for vision correction, but Henry knew those glasses regardless. They were blue filtering computer work glasses, yet nobody would know that unless they were paying close attention. And combined with everything else, the overall impression was that of a man eating librarian, professor, or maybe a top government aide. And it was hotter than hell.

She was Goddess Kiersten through and through though, as she stepped right past her husband, expecting him to follow her and chauffeur her to her date. Regardless, as Henry did that 45 minute drive, he kept considering the looks of his wife, and found her as powerful as sexy, with just a little edge of the geeky, or even dorky, to make her even sexier. She truly looked the part of a woman you might expect to maybe be a little sexually conservative, stiff even, but then all of a sudden turned out to be a completely insatiable man devouring freak. And even though Jaime was deep into her mental headspace preparing for her client, she of course was perfectly attuned to her husband. And having caught him lecherously staring at her through the rear view mirror, gave him a malevolent smile that made him blush. And squirm uncomfortably in his seat, no doubt in caged cock discomfort.

At their destination Goddess Kiersten did not completely ignore her chauffeur this time, as she reminded him:

"Henry, whatever you see, remember to hold it together. From now on you should know it without me repeating it."

Then turned and left with a sway of her tight pencil skirt clad hips, as she strutted in her four inch stiletto boots.

At the parking lot, and through the four way split-screen streaming video on the tablet, Henry admired his wife as she stood near a large living room window waiting for her client. In a similar place, posture and attitude she had had when waiting for the surgeon. She looked like an Empress surveying her domain and waiting to hold an audience with one of her subjects. And her husband thought she looked uber desirable like that. And that as usual, the movements of her body were perfect, as her date rang the doorbell, let himself in, and Goddess Kiersten turned around to greet him.

"Welcome, Congressman Mark. You may call me Ms. Kiersten."

"Thank you for seeing me Ms. Kiersten. It is an honor and privilege to meet a trusted agent of Mr. Richardson."

That Mark!? Thought Henry. Congressman Mark? Of course Henry knew who he was. Anybody that ever watched or read political news did. He was a human flame thrower. A firebrand. A rabble rouser. An asshole. A media whore who stirred the pot with the most inflammatory statements possible only to increase the size of his social media following. And he was standing right in front of Henry's wife right now."

"I understand, Ms. Kiersten, that you are here to vet me on Mr. Richardson's behalf. Start the prep for my presidential campaign..."

"Shh! Quiet! And easy there, Congressman. I am here to vet you yes. Starting the prep is only one of the options Mr. Richardson has empowered me to pursue... depending on how the vetting goes. A man with as many billions as Mr. Richardson wants to know his campaign support is well spent. Does not want to throw good financial or relationship capital away after losing candidates. Are you a losing candidate, Congressman Mark?"

"Of course not Ms..."

"Come over here and sit with me in this love seat then, Congressman. Apparently, the first thing you have to learn when meeting with me, is only to speak in answer to a direct question. Understood?"

"Sorry Ms. Kiersten. And yes Ms. Kiersten."

Henry thought he had figured out the scene. Congressman Mark was meeting with a powerful behind-the-scenes political operator that worked for a massively influential donor and king-maker. An operator that was as sexy as she was dangerous. And as usual, Goddess Kiersten, Henry's wife, was pulling it off awesomely.

When Kiersten made it to the two person couch she sat down and crossed her legs with that practiced prima-ballerina perfection Henry had got used to, but still did not cease to be awestruck by. Meanwhile her date sat down almost nervously beside her. It was impressive to watch a man as normally boisterous as Congressman Mark be intimidated so thoroughly by Kiersten's mere presence, her imperiousness notwithstanding.

"Lets go over some of your more recent pronouncements, Congressman. When you said, at a political conference, that the government would have to turn to more effective measures on immigration. That given that all those immigrants were overwhelming the system, that the government would have to start housing them in animal impounds, and sending them back in cattle trucks, till they were all gone and rid of, did you mean it?"

"Haha! That was a funny one was it not? I did not reaaaally mean it. But sometimes you have to deliver the message so it is heard..."

"Shh! Answer the question only. I won't say it again."

Snapped Kiersten, even as, like a seductive temptress, she put a hand on one of her date's thighs. Who squirmed in response first, but then put one of his hands over hers in turn. Making Henry, the husband, squirm this time.

"Next question, when you said, at a recent gubernatorial campaign launch for a colleague, that all this increased tolerance for diverse sexual preferences and identities was turning America into Sodom and Gomorrah, a land of sodomists, sexual freaks, and other deviants, did you mean it?"

"Ms. Kiersten, same thing as before..."

"To be clear, Congressman Mark. Both I and Mr. Richardson want to support candidates that uphold the law and stand for true values. But we want to make sure such candidates are the real deal, not fakes. I personally admire a candidate, a man, that tells the truth and is not ashamed of it."

Added Kiersten after cutting off her date again, even as now her hand that had not been on Mark's thigh, made its way and started snaking between his thighs. And the man before her almost melted in his seat as his eyes struggled to not roll back into his head, and his voice not to break like a boy, from the pleasure.