The Theft of Our Lives 08

"I wanna go home, Ray. Please, let me go home," she whispered, bereft and beside herself with embarrassment as I escorted her to the restroom, letting her get dressed in privacy, and unconcerned that I'd entered the ladies' room protectively guarding the stall door.

After several minutes composing herself and direly restoring her tattered dignity, we returned to the table and a gloating Hank and Nate. Riccardo had left after Emma's involuntary performance attending to other club members, making the rounds of the tables accepting their congratulations on a stellar performance.

"I need to take Emma home. She's had enough, don't you think, Hank?" I asked, but with a scolding tone I'm not certain he appreciated.

"Just a little fun, Ray. Deep inside I think Emma has an exhibitionist streak. I don't think she ever cums so hard as when she's got an audience," my unconscionable boss opined in response, unconcerned about my disapproval and even relishing it.

"We can take my car," Nate suggested unasked, interrupting with a supposedly gracious offer I didn't want and, quite frankly in light of his further designs on my full-bodied wife, I actually dreaded.

"Great idea. I'm sure the Tyler's will happily to welcome you into every room of their home," Hank concurred, shooting me a look saying refusal wasn't an option, and refuse him we didn't.

*****************

Unsurprisingly, Nate didn't drive, but rather was driven in a chauffeured limo.

"Sit up front with the driver, Ray. He'll need directions to your house. I'll keep Emma company on the way," the older philanthropist instructed dismissively.

Still tipsy and upset about Hank's practical joke, Emma was easily guided to the private backseat of the large black vehicle. The window between the front and the passenger compartment was darkly tinted, making it nearly impossible to see what was said or done as I spied in the rearview mirror.

When we arrived, Emma exited more rumpled than when we left, with her hair astray and her lipstick smeared, so I had a pretty good idea Nate was necking with my wife, at a minimum, and probably feeling her up pretty good too, knowing his fascination with her fabulous tits.

"Well, how quaint," the wealthy gentleman commented on entering our foyer, handing me his coat to hang as if his butler and gazing about our spacious house.

Immediately, in the manner of an Alpha-male, Nate took charge even as the guest.

"Let's have a nightcap, Ray," he suggested, extending his arm for me to lead the way to the bar.

Beleaguered, Emma followed pliantly but was summarily stopped as the lecherous man revealed his intentions with a single directive.

"Emma, dear, why don't you go upstairs and freshen up for bed. Ray and I have a few things to discuss, then we'll be up shortly," he ordered with saccharine charm.

"Oh, and Emma, pretty and sexy, right?" the imperious bastard added, setting out his expectations without a care that he was speaking to her so solicitously in her own home and the presence of her husband.

With my wife trudging up the stairs in obeisance to his edict, the distinguished early-60's man and I had a nightcap. I stayed quiet, assuming he had a purpose behind getting me alone to talk, and I didn't think I was going to like it.

"Scotch, neat," he requested, starting the one-sided conversation. "Are your son and daughter home?"

"It's after midnight. I'm sure they're in bed," I replied, wondering why he cared, especially since I now knew Kellen was in on the deal with Hank and shared the family's plight, so it didn't matter if he discovered a strange man staying the night in his parent's bedroom.

"Good. That's good to know," Nate acknowledged, nodding as the wheels spun in his head in a way I found disconcerting.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Wagnell?" I asked respectfully, expecting his answer to be anything but respectable.

"Cut to the chase. I like that in a man, Ray, even an inferior one such as yourself," he replied condescendingly.

I shrank a little with the insult, but my lack of a counterpunch said all he needed to know about its accuracy.

"Ray, your lovely wife is going to make good on a promise she made at Hank's poker party, and you're not going to do a damn thing about it. In fact, I fully expect you to encourage her and even assist," my newest nemesis explained.

"Hank has your back, so you know I don't have a choice," I retorted with what little courage I could muster.

"True, but I'll take her as I please anyway because strong men take what weak men possess without asking. It's the way of the world," he concluded. "Emma should be ready by now, so let's go upstairs. She has a gift for you, and I think you may even like it, although not as much as the gift she was waiting for me."

Reluctantly, and fearful of what I'd find upon entering our bedroom, I led Nate upstairs, opening the door to the most unbelievably sexy image of my wife I could ever imagine.

"Hello, lover," Emma purred as we entered, but she wasn't looking at me. "I'm so glad you could visit me in my room. I'm looking forward to having you in my bed."

The line sounded scripted, and maybe it was, with Emma simply following instructions given on the ride over to lay my emasculation on thick and with feeling. Still, her tone told me it wasn't entirely false, and that she held a secret attraction to handsome and powerful Nathan Wagnell she couldn't confess to me, or possibly even admit to herself.

Either way, her invitation was highly erotic, and I cringed realizing it was directed at another man.

Tall, elegant, and loaded with curves, Emma stood at the foot of the bed wearing the briefest white silk chemise and lace panty combo I'd ever seen. I don't know where or when she got it, but it was like nothing she ever wore for me.

While gossamer thin, the top wasn't transparent, clinging to her prominent nipples and draped so diaphanously on her voluptuous body you didn't need to see through it to appreciate what it barely concealed. Held by spaghetti straps, a prodigious amount of her firm, DD tits escaped the light covering, dropping into a wrap-over vee meeting at her sternum and ending just below her navel.

The lacy panties rode high on her hips but dipped precipitously to the top of her bare mound, with the front panel so snug it was easy to see she was clean-shaven between her thighs. My modest wife was a vision of sex appeal and lust simply begging to be fucked, with her gold wedding ring her only other adornment.

Emma's chestnut hair was down and straight from the up-style she'd worn at the restaurant, and her make-up was touched up but tasteful as always, creating the impression of a wife giving herself rather than a worthless tramp bought from the street.

Simply put, she exuded class and grace in the form of a beautiful face with sparkling emerald eyes and a killer body built for one thing -- sex.

"My, my, aren't you a sight, and what an incredible body, Mrs. Tyler. I must say, you have the most unbelievable set of tits," Nate appraised insufferably, lauding my wife's appealing form, perhaps thinking of whimsical days past mentally undressing her from the conservative outfit she donned undertaking volunteer work for the charity.

"Drop your pants, Ray," Emma ordered mildly, ignoring the lewd observation, and for the briefest moment a false hope to be the recipient of her attentions foolishly filled my head.

"Actually, strip off completely. It'll be more fun that way," Nate interjected, and since I knew he wasn't gay, I correctly assumed he meant for my humiliation, and any thoughts of Emma were quickly dashed.

"I think you'll like this better, dear," she suggested timidly, holding a medium-sized, unwrapped box, and trying to assuage my concerns.

"Key, Emma. Unlock your husband, and let's make the switch," our current master for the night directed with a smarmy grin and wink to my wife.

"Look Ray, no spikes. I think that will be more comfortable," Emma explained, holding a new stainless-steel chastity cage much like my current model, but with a few important differences.

Examining it in her uplifted hands, I noted it was indeed spike-free, which was a genuine relief considering the condition of my bruised and tortured prick after a week in the spiked cage. However, it also appeared smaller, leaving me less room to grow, and included the same electric contacts embracing my scrotum from behind as did the spiked version.

"What's this, then?" I asked noting a long, thin, flexible extension made to attach to the main unit.

"Well, that's the fun part, Ray. It's an electric stimulator, specifically designed for your prostate," Nate announced gleefully. "That should make things interesting, don't you think?"

"Emma?" I questioned needlessly, as if she had any choice in the matter.

I removed my pants and the rest of my clothes, feeling odd standing naked in front of the 61-year-old man wearing my old cage, although I'm not sure why since I'd jerked off in front of him and everyone else watching Emma eat our daughter's pussy at the poker party.

Emma was soon on her knees before me, thankfully removing my spiked cage releasing my tormented cock. Her mouth was so close I wanted so badly for her to simply take it between her lips and nurse it to life but knew that was a futile prospect.

Instead, she squirted lube on the long, fortunately slender insertable prostate massager and caringly slipped it into my anus, uncomfortably extending far enough up my rectum to reach the buried gland.

"Unnh," I grunted, but it really wasn't that painful, just foreign.

"Ohhh," I quickly followed with a sigh when she did something she hadn't done in weeks, tenderly handling my scrotum, but unhappily only to ensure the electrical contacts were set flush against the soft skin prepared to do their nasty job of keeping me in line.

Finally, she affixed the new cage over my shrunken cock, linking the whole unit together as one sharing the rechargeable power supply. This new device was definitely smaller than the previous model, and it felt crowded even flaccid.

"The good news, Ray, is that Emma keeps the key, most of the time," the smiling interloper informed me. "Of course, the bad news is that I have the code to the remote app."

"Yyyaaahhhhh!" I yelped suddenly when he hit a control button on his phone sending a pulse of electrical shock to my balls, causing me to spasm and grow weak in the knees before it disappeared just as quickly.

"Just a test, my friend," Nate stated congenially, acting the role of my good buddy only there to share a laugh, and yes, fuck my wife as I impotently watched.

I turned to Emma with water in my eyes, and she sympathetically looked back with sincere compassion, but said nothing, understanding what the night held and her role in dutifully fulfilling Nate's every lurid need and demand.

"Now, how shall Emma get started, Ray? I suppose she should take off my clothes, but then what? What would you like to see her do first?" our bedroom guest taunted, making a game of forcing me to direct the action by telling him how to sexually use my beloved bride.

Emma simply scooted over to the gray-haired lothario, removing his dress shirt, and then returning to her knees to unbuckle his pants without him asking. She worked with an unspoken alacrity, as if anxious to see his generous cock once again, knowing she'd experience every one of its impressive eight-plus inches before morning arrived.

"Wow, Nate," she marveled reflexively, not even thinking of my feelings upon freeing his majestic trouser snake and eyeing it with a wanton lust I recognized as more and more present in my increasingly libidinous wife.

Nate kicked off his shoes, letting Emma lower his slacks and boxers to step out, leaving his huge cock mere inches from her mesmerized green eyes, and worse, her luscious mouth agape with wonder.

"I'd say I've got you beat, Ray, and it's not even close. No way I'm fitting in that puny cage," Nate chuckled, nodding to my constricted member in the steel bars but not yet fighting the constraints.

"What do you think, Emma?" he followed with a question no man wants his wife to answer honestly.

"Well, uh, Ray's is always so nice, I mean, it fits inside me so, um, easily," Emma stammered her answer, and I saw in her pensive eyes she didn't want to judge, but her comment already revealed the sad truth.

"But?" Nate pressed, understanding her resistance, and crushing it by demanding a forthright response.

"Nate, you're so much bigger, it's not really fair. You shouldn't make me answer such a question about my own husband," she protested softly, playing her role, but not wanting to hurt my pride or feelings.

"Emma, tell us the truth," he urged impatiently, his expectation already set and not brooking any refusal.

"Y-yes, your cock is bigger than Ray's. A lot bigger. I'm sorry, honey, but honestly, your little prick is so pathetic. You're so much smaller, I can hardly tell when you're inside me," Emma spouted hurtfully in following his lead.

I knew there was some harsh truth to it, and maybe he put her up to the disparagement of my modest penis, but I thought she went overboard and hoped she only said it because she was forced.

"See Ray, even your wife knows I'm the bigger man. Go on, Emma, tell me more," our tormentor pushed, extracting a disclosure that was unrehearsed, but I also think preplanned after their time alone in the limo on the trip here.

"Ray, I know this hurts, but I couldn't believe it that night at Hank's. Nate's so big. Oh, my god, the way he, um, well, the way he fucked me. It was incredible," she confessed, unable to deny what I'd witnessed when the bastard had her begging for more of his big tool, and willing to do or say anything to get it.

I looked down at my smaller prick trapped in it's undersized cage and understood the reality of her concession to this superior man. Wistfully, I sensed the slightest uptick in its stature, embarrassingly turned on knowing she was right, and that this older, rich man had fucked her better than I ever could on my best day.

"Frankly, all those times when I volunteered at the charity, I had no idea Nate was so well-hung, or I might have, you know, cheated on you sooner," Emma revealed egregiously, adding more insult to injury than I wanted to hear, but ringed in honesty about the manhood of the imposing patron.

"So, Ray, now that that's established, back to the question. What would you like to see her do first?" Nate asked again, curious to hear the answer from my own lips and willing to spur it along.

"Yyyaaahh," I cried a second time when the electrodes lit up my sensitive nuts, bringing another tear to my eyes as I reached for the arm of the overstuffed reading chair steadying myself.

"Well?" the sonofabitch insisted on a response.

"Uh, get him, huh, hard, Emma. Get his cock hard," I mumbled my answer, but that wasn't enough.

"How Ray?" Nate urged emphatically.

"With, um, your mouth, Emma. Suck him hard," I sputtered with difficulty telling her to blow another man, even after all we'd been through.

Even Hank hadn't required that affront to my dignity.

"Ray, are you telling your sainted wife to suck my cock?" he questioned with counterfeit disbelief.

"Yes, damn it. Suck his cock, Emma. Suck him 'til he's hard, or suck him off, whatever he wants," I conceded haltingly, resigned to his demands knowing I'd never win, but still caught off-guard by his next order.

"Oh, oh, I almost forgot. Ray, set up your cellphone so we can get this on video in case I want to show my friends," the grinning cretin said preposterously, now wanting to video my beautiful wife in the scantiest of lingerie on her knees sucking his cock in our marital bedroom so he could impress his buddies with his good fortune.

Of course, I did as he asked, fearful of another shock to my balls and thinking this was no worse than anything Hank required of us, especially after the video call to Josh Driscoll's office earlier in the day.

"Okay, now say it again for the camera, and say it with feeling. You know, make it good," Nate exhorted, holding up the control app to my shock cage menacingly with his threat clear to make this as humiliating as possible.

"Emma, dear, I love you so much, but Nate's cock is so much bigger than mine, um, I want to watch you suck it," I volunteered, saying more than he asked, assuming he'd be pleased.

"More," he curtly prodded.

"Suck his big cock for me, honey, so I can record it and jerk off viewing it later. You know how much it turns me on seeing you suck another man's cock," I added for good measure, trained well-enough now by Hank to know when embellishing a request inured to my benefit.

"No jerking off for you, Ray. Remember your cage," my temporary controller chided, pointing at the contraption, and signaling me to turn the camera lens to my crotch, capturing it in the video demonstrating my true cuckoldry.

"Yes, Ray, if you get off seeing your wife on her knees with another man's hard cock in her mouth, I'll do it to make you happy," Emma responded obediently, even if in a stilted manner, wisely picking up on the game, although very likely coached beforehand as to Nate's expectations.

Emma faced the splendid but still limp cock hanging inches from her face, looking up into Nate's gloating eyes. I couldn't help noticing a barely veiled adoration in her gaze. Hands on his hips, she slipped her wet tongue from between moist lips and delicately grazed his drooping cockhead.

"Uhhh," Nate sighed appreciatively at the first touch.

A twinge pulsed through my own captured cock, and I swallowed restlessly when her tongue drew around the soft rim of his supple crown. Closing my eyes mournfully, I knew I'd get hard at the vision of my sweet wife on her knees giving head to another man, but then felt another sensation I didn't expect.

Well up my rectum, a gentle hum started. It was very light, and it took me a moment before realizing it was the electric buzz of the prostate massager inserted up my ass. The damn thing was soft and low, but in direct contact with the receptive gland, and it felt good.

Too damn good.

'Oh fuck,' I thought, exhaling, and understanding the expected result of the pleasant oscillation.

During our indenture, Hank encouraged my deeply buried voyeuristic and cuckolding tendencies too well. Now, I fretted about the stimulus to my prostate in combination with the erotic sight of Emma subserviently sucking the distinguished older man's cock, realizing I didn't need any help getting hard at the improper vision.

Nate had a stupid grin on his face, casting me a quick nod while knowing exactly what he was doing.

"Ahhh," he inhaled sharply when my pretty, half-naked wife took the entirety of his expanding crown into her mouth, enveloping the perceptive knob within the silken warmth of its interior.

"Ohhh, what a beautiful sight," he gushed, eagerly viewing her every move, with her sparkling green eyes staring up at him reverently while consuming the first few inches of his veined shaft sending his cock swelling to its full stature.

Emma's plush lips stretched as the meaty pole expanded, and I saw what a struggle it was for her to accommodate the girth of the immense column. She worked diligently, however, with her longing eyes fixed on Nate in the manner of a 'great cocksucker' and developing a gentle bob while devouring more of his cock with some difficulty.

"Isn't she something else, Ray? So beautiful and genteel. Who'd ever think such a sweet, respectable woman sucked cock so well?" Nate praised as if we were mutually admiring her ability and breathing deeply as her mouth treated his pulsating staff so regally.

As trained by Hank and practiced on other men before Nate, Emma's slender fingers slipped under his low hanging scrotum and gingerly lifted the heavy orbs inside, bobbling them playfully while giving his inflamed cock knob a gentle twist of her head, twirling her tongue around it's supple surface in a move she'd never performed on me.