Wor Prize: Office Spouse & Mgtow

Suspicious husband unfairly blames faithful wife.

TAGS: exhibitionism, handcuffs, harness, naturism, pregnant, female slave, office spouse, Mgtow, removed breast, co-workers.

*** A contribution to the

Summer Lovin' Story Contest 2022

. Remember to vote, not only this tale but the one you liked best.

Any constructive comments will be welcome.

The main couple was already present in an earlier story of mine "Work Meeting at a Naturist Pool", but it is not necessary to have read it to understand what happens in this tale.

English is not my mother tongue and there may be some lexical or grammatical errors. Please enjoy the idea more than the grammar. ***

Chapter 1: Triple Cuffs.

My wife was naked, with her arms locked by three pairs of handcuffs bound to a black leather harness, consisting of a collar fastened by a belt, and a black leather strap across her back.

Without any embarrassment, she was conversing nicely together with two peaceful young women, naked but with their arms free, standing in front of a tall, naked young man. Under the scorching summer sun, some hotel barmaids, with indifferent movements, walked by holding up trays with glasses and small morsels. My wife chirped, "Wolfgang, be a lamb, will you put a small sausage in my mouth please?"

Everyone giggled. I am the husband, and my name is Luigi, not Wolfgang. If anyone is to hand feed my wife when she wears shackles, it is uniquely me: I wear a ring on my left finger that confirms this.

I should not have accepted the invitation. But my wife had taken advantage of a distraction (I was watching Soccer on TV) and now I was in that situation, and I had to watch my handcuffed wife trying to swallow an Austrian wiener by moving obscenely her tongue and lips between the strong fingers of a young man, while two naked women watched the scene giggling. I really should not have agreed.

Chapter 2: A Husband Mad with Jealousy of the Team.

That summer, the large Chemical Company where my wife worked as the boss of a team of scientists had organized the annual Executive Meeting at a hotel in Austria. Only top management (with an escort) was invited, as well as the Team led by my wife, who had won a major award with the most innovative and fruitful chemical patents.

Fortunately, they had chosen a hotel in the mountains! The summer was already unbearably hot.

I had heard a story, many years ago, that a Finnish cell phone manufacturing company used to have similar meetings, in the middle of winter, in which all the executives (female and male) together with their escorts would all enter the sauna together, and then roll around in the snow together, all naked! They said the collective nudity increased trust and transparency among colleagues. Indeed, that company was an industry leader: I had to admit it. But if I had been invited to a sauna, I would have said no.

The Chemical Corporation was promoting Naturism. I did not know this, and it caused me quite a bit of embarrassment. But all events required absolute nudity, both for employees, escorts, and almost all hotel staff: the few exceptions were for glasses, shoes, and other tiny accessories that covered almost nothing (one old gentleman wore a hat under the sun because he had an excoriation on his head). I jokingly said that I could state that I had an excoriation on the area between my chin and... knees, but my wife gave me a very stern look and I gave up.

I have always been a very loving husband, and madly in love with my wife. We had our ups and downs, as all couples do, but after the surgery whereby doctors removed her left breast, she was reborn, and our love as well.

Her name is Marina (Italian for "woman of the sea") but out of admiration for her resilience and problem-solving all her colleagues called her "SuperMarina," after the video game plumber who must free the princess kidnapped by a huge turtle. I, ironically, was named Luigi, after the plumber's younger brother-a detail that always made everyone who knew us smile along with us.

She was the best in the university of chemistry and for some years had been leading a team of six people, both men, and women. Her boss was a woman of ambitious character: a very famous scientist, holder of some groundbreaking patents, who held my wife in high esteem.

I happened to know both her and the president of the German company for which she works, but that is another story.

My problem at this moment was jealousy toward her Team.

My wife was gorgeous when she devoted her time to me. She was sensual, seductive, and attractive. Oh, I know some breast-obsessed men cannot understand what I was feeling, but to me she was beautiful. She had survived: and that tattoo, which only partially covered the scar above her heart, reminded me every day how lucky we were to still be alive.

Can you few patient people who read me understand the excitement of seeing her one nipple shudder, knowing that the other was removed by the surgeons? Can you understand the endless joy of being able to kiss that one boob of hers?

And most of all, can you understand the magic of a striptease done just for me, with high heels and cuffs? To me, my wife is gorgeous: and I am convinced that she appears attractive to others as well.

Herein arose the problem.

To celebrate achieving the highest goals, and being ranked the best Chemical Research Team in the entire Company (which had branches in every major scientific research center), the group of colleagues led by my wife won a prize vacation to a luxury hotel with a swimming pool near Innsbruck, Austria.

My wife, I said, had invited me; but I was jealous. Both toward men and women.

Quickly (too hastily) I replied to her that I accepted the invitation. I could not allow my wife to have a summer vacation alone with her damn smart and brainy Winning Team.

A few things happened on the first day: some delightful, some embarrassing. The thing that bothered me most was that they were all naked, and I was always very shy perhaps because of too conservative an upbringing against nudity. Or, rather, I was shy before yesterday's experiences.

This is the account of what happened the next day when we were also joined by colleagues from his Chemistry Team. There was a great Speech by the Presidency, there was an Award Ceremony, and there was much applause. Then some kind of hotel barmaids led us to a private terrace, where we could eat the triumphal lunch dedicated exclusively to the winning Team (and me, as accompanying husband).

Capitolo 3 Meet the Team. A Harness Arouses Hardness

We were all naked, without any embarrassment, with long drinks in our hands and finger food trays.

To be precise, they were unembarrassed, while I had an embarrassing erection because the first people my wife had introduced me to were Birgit and Nicoletta, two attractive and cheerful young women. I was trying to content myself with my eyes, but even as I struggled, I sensed their naked bodies beside me, and I could not contain myself!

My wife at the Awards Ceremony was simply naked, wearing simple black flip-flops and nothing else; oh, and glasses to read the acceptance speech, sure.

But for the Terrace, she had decided to wear the leather harness she had received as a gift the night before. As I helped her put on her collar and manacles, I tried to convince her that it was unsuitable for a meeting with co-workers, but she insisted that she didn't want to have any secrets. And exactly as everyone had already seen her scar in place of her removed breasts, today everyone would see what kind of handcuffs she wore, last night, to dance for me, with her arms retrained by the manacles behind her back, unable to cover her pussy or her chest.

"Transparency, openness. Always I tell my Team everything, and they know that I have no secrets. This harness is a new thing, and I am proud to have received it as a gift, and I will be as proud to show it to them as any other secret I have already shared with them (about chemical patents, or my personal life)".

"Darling, you couldn't look more open and more transparent than that!"

"Exactly! Magnificent, isn't it?" she giggled, as happy as a brat jumping over puddles and then showing the mud slicks to teachers and classmates.

In a way, after her chest operation, Marina had perceived it as a mission to show anyone her scar, and to talk openly about how it feels after an operation like that. I imagined that she wanted to show her colleagues that even a woman with a removed breast could be sexy and wear kinky items to turn her husband on. Exhibitionist? She used to be a missionary of clinical and anatomical exhibitionism; that afternoon, I began to think that maybe Marina had also become a missionary of wearing handcuffs in front of colleagues as naturally as showing off a plaster cast arm or myopia glasses.

So now I was naked and erect behind my wife, who was conversing amiably with two women from her Team: they always say that the females arrive late, but perhaps it was because of the time they spend choosing and wearing their outfits: since at this Terrace appointment they were all summoned in the nude, the women had arrived first.

Blond Birgit wore her hair styled in a chin bob: short to barely cover her cheeks. Underneath she had a coral necklace, and further down, two firm tits topped by two pencil-straight nipples. Do you want to know if she was a natural blonde? Yes: the color of the trimmed carpet matched the short curtains.

Birgit looked at me, over my wife's shoulder, and giggled.

Her colleague Nicoletta was slightly shorter, with bigger boobs, and she had dark hair. And I couldn't tell if it was the natural color because the pussy was bald as a pool ball. Everyone else on the team was of Austrian or German descent, and only my wife and Nicoletta were of Italian descent.

The others wore only flip-flops; Nicoletta wore high-heeled sandals that left her toes uncovered. It was not a "dress" in the strict sense, so let's say she could be considered naked even though she was wearing shoes.

Both of them were paying many compliments to my wife, who was strutting around in her triple cuffs and kept saying that they were very comfortable and also very exciting. Occasionally she would ask me to feed her with appetizers or sips of champagne, but that's what husbands are for, right?

Amid three naked women laughing as they hugged and greeted each other, my cock got hard before I knew it. Not that I wanted to do or say anything bad-I guess it's a spontaneous reaction. Maybe if I had been dressed no one would have noticed. But the little blonde giggled, and then my wife turned to look at my erect cock.

"Don't scold him, Boss!" said a male voice. The girls laughed even harder. A young man with a thick German accent and a flaccid penis walked toward us. "See, Supermarina? I always tell you: even with a removed breast, you are still very attractive, and with this harness even more so! The collar also enhances the tone of your eyes. That's the effect that good-looking women have on men: it's chemistry, you are supposed to know!" The girls laughed again.

My wife smiling scolded the newcomer, "So many drops of wisdom, young Wolfgang, but if you are so wise, why haven't you married yet?"

Pretending not to have heard the question, the young man held out his hand to me with a smile and introduced himself. "Nice to meet you in person, my name is Wolfgang Muller, like Mozart."

"Does the name Mozart mean 'Smith?' Sorry, dad joke. My pleasure, my name is Luigi, like Supermarina's brother!"

Everyone laughed heartily. Under my breath I added, "I'm the husband, though!" and Wolfgang nodded: it was clear that everyone had seen some pictures of me before on the desk in the office, or vacation photos; or more probably from photos taken in the clinic. Sad but true.

Wolfgang openly admired my wife's set of triple manacles and collars. He commented in an expert voice, "Well, Boss, I'd say you managed to fulfill one of your deepest dreams, today" (my wife giggled like a little girl caught stealing jam).

A barmaid passed by with a tray of small sausages. My wife trilled, in the voice of an innocent child, "Wolfgang, be a lamb, will you put a small sausage in my mouth please?"

The young women giggled. Maybe they were not looking at me, or maybe they were looking at me pretending not to look at me. Or maybe I was under the impression that they were looking at me while they weren't looking at me at all, as if I didn't even exist: as if only Wolfgang existed, with strong, long fingers, and Marina's tongue and lips obscenely trying to swallow the small sausage Wolfgang offered her in front of everyone.

I breathed deep. I counted to ten, then to ten times ten. I thought of something else entirely. Don't make drama.

Meanwhile, Dieter and Karl-Heinz also arrived.

I remembered Dieter. His mother had had a breast problem similar to my wife's, and he had come to our house for dinner a couple of times to talk more calmly. He was a tall, balding man with glasses even though he was naked, and very clear eyes.

Karl-Heinz looked like a werewolf. With a full beard, shoulder-length hair, and his back covered with black hair. Who would have believed that he was the husband of the slim Birgit? Still, they were a close-knit couple.

They both stood motionless looking at my wife in triple handcuffs and collars. She, without any shame, made a slow turn around herself to show that she was completely restrained. Marina moved as naturally as she displayed an innocent coral bracelet over a button-down shirt worn under a business suit. She felt like the same person, either in those clothes or in... this. In her intentions, there was no trace of seduction, but a naked woman tied to a harness is something erotic in itself, or am I wrong? «A.H.=A.H.», meaning, «A Harness Arouses HARDness», should be the slogan of the leather manufacturer of the harness.

I seemed to notice some reaction from Karl-Heinz's cock, but perhaps it was from the sight of his wife Birgit. Dieter, on the other hand, was as flaccid as a leather glove.

Birgit blew her husband a kiss with her hand. He gestured to grab it and put it in a pocket he did not have. They were both very cute.

Birgit flashed the most innocent little blond angel smile, and in a joking voice said to her husband, "Look, Kalle, our Boss wore this harness of triple handcuffs! Doesn't it look great on her? What do you say, I could go back to our room and wear the strapon, so my colleagues can tell me if it slims my figure, or if it makes me look too fat!" (and laughed loudly).

Karl-Heinz blushed suddenly. Perhaps, the fact that his wife was an expert in pegging was something known to everyone on the Team, but to see her walking naked on the Terrace, in front of everyone, wearing her erect strapon...perhaps to him, it seemed like a level he was not yet prepared for.

Nicoletta took Dieter's hand. "D.D.D. = Dear Dearest Dieter, as usual, on this Team the only single ones are the two of us... shall we time how long it takes our colleagues? 3... 2... 1..."

Everyone chorused in unison, "Get a room!"

Dieter had blushed like a little girl. Aggressive and protective, Nicoletta was showing everyone the tongue. "It will never happen! We two, are the perfect example of 'office spouses,' we are a team within a team, and I feel sorry for you, but nothing will ever break our harmony. Besides, I have my boyfriends, and he has his wife--we don't have time for a stable relationship!"

I thought silently, "Um, if I was jealous before, I'm so jealous now! This Wolfgang, he's far too nice; Dieter is as tall as a mountain and doesn't seem completely satisfied with his "friendship" with Nicoletta; and Karl-Heinz, gosh, he looks like a ferocious beast!"

But while I was thinking these things, my wife restored calm among her colleagues, resuming at least for a moment her usual role as boss (although, like all Italians, she usually waved her hand gestures as she spoke: it was very strange to watch her speak with her arms still, like a caterpillar in its cocoon).

"Guys, girls, calm down, please. The joke is good while it lasts a short time. I blessed Birgit and Karl-Heinz when they told me they wanted to get married, and I find it a miracle, that they manage to balance both work and family menage. But Nicoletta and Dieter deserve more respect."

After the scolding, everyone scattered, going to get more drinks and other food from the trays of barmaids, and I was left alone at my wife's side. "What is this about an office wife?"

"You're not jealous, are you?!"

"Nooo, it's just that you were talking about it as something known to everyone and I wanted to understand what it could mean."

"According to some Californian psychologists, who gave my Team a refresher course a few months ago, there is a dynamic that exists very frequently in workplaces. It is known by many names, including 'office wife,' 'office husband,' and 'office couple.' It is a couple of friends who, however, have more attention towards the chosen person. It is as if they are protecting each other, helping, encouraging, and supporting each other. Even with little things, like a coffee or a snack at the right time."

"Um"

"But there's nothing sexual, and to be honest, nothing romantic either. I think it's more of a parental type of connection: like a father, who sees his daughter being sad, or like a mother, who sees her son being unhappy. Take Dieter's case. His mom had to have surgery and everyone was afraid she was going to die. Even his wife. The only person who always encouraged him with inexhaustible cheerfulness and so much optimism was Nicoletta. And we (you and I), of course, when I was assigned to their team, but before that, there was only Nicoletta."

"Understood."

"You were present in our dining room that evening when I unbuttoned my shirt to show Dieter the scar. It was not a sexual gesture: it was like showing a war wound, or a car accident. He didn't see a naked woman, he saw a surviving human being. Do you remember that?"

"Of course" (I think I will never forget that).

"But Nicoletta had nothing as intense. She had no proof that the operation could succeed and that one could go on living afterward. Yet she continued to support him all the time, with little talks, moments of listening, and lunches together. Without joking, I think Dieter spent more time with Nicoletta than with his wife (considering that he sleeps eight hours at home). This happens to so many workers, especially concept employees (such as chemists), who spend most of the daytime hours with their colleagues, and only come home to sleep."

"So, you mean to tell me that Dieter no longer loves his wife?"

"No! He still loves her: on weekends and on vacations. As Aristotle said, man is a social animal: Dieter needs his wife, on weekends, and he needs a female figure of reference on weekdays."

"But then he exploits her generosity!"

"No, because he also always supports her, as a good husband or brother would. I repeat, there is nothing sexual about this. Nicoletta knows that she can always count on Dieter. Whenever she breaks off a relationship with one of those bumbling boyfriends, she knows she can cry on Dieter's shoulder. Whenever the chemistry experiments fail, she knows that Dieter will stay awake until they work. It's a relationship of trust, of listening to each other, of help and complicity."

"But Dieter's wife will be jealous!"

"Oh! I don't know. She may be. Or she also has an 'office husband' in the Bank where she works, spends the day with a brother on weekdays, and then finds her husband/lover on weekends... I don't know. She never told me about it."