Chapter Eighteen - Alana
It was Friday morning and I was still asleep when I felt the bed move as Elaine, my Wife, clambered over me to go to the toilet, leaving me and Jackson alone still in a post sexual languor. I had spent much of the last night acting as sex slave to Elaine (who I now routinely refer to as Mistress) and had learned that I was far from alone in my cuckoldry in just the small row of houses where I live in Blackheath South London. It's funny the things you recall when still only half conscious.
Slowly my mind cleared as I remembered what had transpired the night before. I recalled kissing Elaine as Jackson had made love to her, I recalled almost calling Jackson 'Master' in the same way as did Elaine. And my cleaning of her pretty pink labia of his semen was a perfectly delightful recollection. Other than that, my mind was still a blur - late nights tend to effect me that way. But there was a niggle, in the back of my mind, telling me that something had occurred last night that had changed our three cornered relationship.
I had done everything I could to manage the situation since that last Sunday when I had seen Jackson take Elaine under that tower of that beach on the South Coast; this included purchasing a restraint for my little penis. I had left the pair of them alone in my house and received a soaking from the summer rain that night when I had stealthily crept back into the house and found that it was no surprise because I had been outguessed. Furthermore, last night, Thursday night, I had laid out the bed for them and then acted as a slave to them. Effectively, my so called management had been that of the 'if you can't beat them - join them' philosophy. But something had changed last night; 'What the hell was it?' I thought, while still half asleep.
Little by little, the night's activities came back to me. I could recall sitting at the window and Mistress (Elaine) telling me about my next door neighbours; a couple living on one side of my house (Sheila and Jack) living as 'Black Owned' by their lodger Mr Obinga, and the other couple (Gwen and Charlie) who lived the other side were 'Party Slavers'. It was such a shock to me, so I guess that was why I recalled it first.
Next came the delicious memory of attending to Mistress's sweet pussy after Master (sorry - Jackson) had released the heavy streams of his seed into her vagina. His ejaculate had not been a problem for me as I had tasted and swallowed the salty, musty cream before and with a sudden realization I understood just why it was acceptable to my palate. In all truth, his sticky and warm essence is not particularly tasty but what was truly a joy for me was the concept of 'serving' Mistress, the better man than me, and accepting the demeaning nature of my activity. I knew that it would not be long before I would kneel before my Wife's Lover and call him 'Master'. 'But what was it that had happened last night?'
My addled brain was still withholding that 'special' memory, when the bed moved again and Mistress rejoined us, "Roll over cj," she said quietly to me, "I need your special magic again."
Turning over onto my back I looked up to see her lovely pussy descending onto my face. With her legs stretched out a little further than usual she had allowed my arms and hands to remain free so without any further encouragement from her I reached up to stroke those lovely firm breasts and tweak the coral pink nipples that I had sucked while Master had ploughed his rock hard manhood in and out of her in a gentle but in such an unrelenting way.
But wait! That's not right. He had stopped occasionally, when late into the night Mistress had hooked her upper leg over his and he had taken her from behind while they lay on their sides together - and they had done this for my benefit. It was coming back to me now. Mistress had pushed my hand down to her mound while Master's rod was still embedded deep inside her - and then? With a rush I recalled all that had happened - she had pushed my hand down onto Master's big heavy balls. Not just once but twice, and at the third time I had gone there myself without encouragement from her. For the first time in my life I had touched another man's sexual parts and instead of being scolded or worse he had commented that it was, "nicely done cj."
As Mistress's much welcome labia came into contact with my lips I knew that the 'training' that they were now clearly putting me through was going to progress at a faster rate and although I had initially resisted my journey down the cuckold's path, I now couldn't wait for it to proceed apace. So like the willing slave that I was, and still am, my tongue started to work on Mistress's swollen lips, with the memory of another man's balls in my hand still fresh in my mind. 'Pervert!' Was my amused thought as a little taste of Master Jackson's semen settled on my tongue.
This was sheer heaven to me! To be lying naked with my little penis caged, totally subservient and subjugated like a slave to be used at his Mistress's pleasure. The more I licked and swallowed, the more aroused I became; my small penis was now so tight inside it's little restraint it was starting to hurt. It was with some surprise that I became aware of the bed moving again as I felt Master Jackson rouse himself and kneel on the bed with his knees either side of my own.
Although I could not see him, I felt him lean forward and start kissing Mistress and, like the good cuckold I had become, I continued to work diligently on her labia and her clitoris. Everybody was having a nice time and the room was silent as three highly sexed young animals fulfilled their obligations to each other.
Such was my disconnect from reality that it was moments before I realized that something heavy was in contact with my groin, 'What the hell is that?' I thought, my mind still fuzzy from sleep and arousal. I removed my right hand from Mistress's perfect breasts and reached down to try and find out what it was.
I put my hand down on the mystery object and found it to be warm and soft, and as I moved my hand up and down its length I realized that it could only be one thing - it was his big penis. His thick, dark manhood was laying up the side of my plastic cage with its bulbous glans resting gently on my lower stomach. 'Oh Christ! It's Master's cock.'
In shock, I tried to snatch my hand away but instantaneously Mistress's hand closed down on my own; it was then that I knew that this was no accident. Once again, she interlaced her fingers with my own and gently moved my hand up and down the warm soft length of flesh, pausing only to wrap my hand around the large round head just to make sure that I fully understood exactly what I was being allowed to touch.
'Its the 'Rule of Three again,' I thought as she allowed my hand to move away. But only for a second or two as the two Lovers above me (a highly symbolic disposition, given my acceptance of their dominance over me) kissed again.
As before, her cool little hand descended over the back of my own and eased down onto his now thickening penis. And as before, lingering a little longer this time she moved my hand in such a way as I was now stroking it for him - from pubic hair down to his glans. I was stroking another man's cock and as conflicted sexually as I was, I was actually enjoying the act. 'It's that serving thing again,' I thought dimly as I appreciated the soft strength of his now hardening rod.
Mistress took my hand away and did nothing further except continue kissing Master and easing her clitoris up and down over my nose. The 'Rule of Threes' requires every cuckold to try something twice (or is it three times?) before making up his mind whether he would do it without being told or encouraged to, so I understood clearly what was required. It was my decision; was I going to voluntarily stroke Master's cock for him? It was a big step for a man to take, even a cuckold like myself. It would bring my sexuality into question and I would never be the same man again. But the questions were irrelevant; I had allowed myself to be taken down a path and there was no going back now.
