Chapter 5: Sarah's Turn
The short drive home Jewels spoke most of the way with Alice on the phone, reliving the evening and other things they were planning. As Rory drove cage was, heavy on his crotch and uncomfortable on his crotch. Jewels chatted away laughing. She had dressed as before, other than replacing the soiled fishnet tights and shoes with a pair of black nylon holdup that flashed pale thigh below her mini skirt and sky high black ankle boots.
“You okay over there?” she asked, her voice light.
He nodded, unable to form words. The images of the evening including his climax spurting pathetically onto their feet—it all looped in his head.
“Sarah loved the footage,” Jewels said, as he turned onto his street. “Really loved the text updates too. She was… appreciative.”
Rory’s stomach tightened. “She was watching?”
“Not live, darling. She was busy.” The house was dark except for the porch light. “But she got the highlights reel. Now, let’s get you inside. ”
They got out and she looped herm arm through his familiarly. He fumbled with his keys, his hands still unsteady. The door swung open into the quiet, familiar hall.
“Right,” Jewels said. “I need a drink. And so do you. Kitchen.”
He followed her like a sleepwalker. She moved through his home proprietorialy, opening the fridge for white wine, selecting two glasses from the cupboard. She poured, handed him one, and leaned against the counter, studying him.
“You’re still caged,” she observed, sipping her wine. “Sarah has a key too. She’ll decide when that comes off. If it comes off. But she'll be desperate for a really good fuck though after those pictures!”
Before he could process that, another car pulled up. Headlights flashed through the lounge window. Car doors slammed. He heard thank you and the car pulled away. Laughter—Sarah’s light, flirtatious laugh, followed by a deeper, masculine chuckle.
Rory froze, the glass halfway to his lips. Jewels’ smile widened.
The front door opened. “Hello?” Sarah’s voice called out, bright and airy. “We’re home!”
Footsteps in the hall. Then she appeared in the kitchen doorway, her cheeks flushed, her blonde hair slightly mussed. She wore the red tight bandage dress Rory knew she wore to look her sexiest, with black stockings and bright red shes. Her eyes went straight to Jewels, a flash of unspoken communication passing between them.
And then he appeared behind her.
Fabian.
He filled the doorway, tall and athletically broad in a dark, tailored shirt opened half way down his chest. His gaze, sharp and confident, swept the room, landing on Rory with a smirk. He was owning the space as he entered and with his hand moving carelessly onto Sarah's arse, his wife.
jewels turned to Rory. She made a surprise face eye brows raised. "Gosh, it looks like she's going to get a really good fuck too!" She whispered in his ear.
Sarah ushered them all in the lounge
“Rory, darling,” Sarah said, gliding into the room. She kissed his cheek, her perfume—something new, darker—enveloping him her lips bright red. “You’re back! And Jewels, thank you for bringing him home.” She went to Jewels, kissed her properly on the mouth, a slow, lingering press of lips. “Missed you. Did you have fun?”
“Of course. And looks like you kept busy,” Jewels murmured against her lips, her hand sliding to Sarah’s hip.
“Mmm, we had drinks.” Sarah turned, her eyes shining. “I couldn't resist texting Fabian the other night, telling him what you were planning with Rory. I though he might be interested, he always loved the cuckolding and humiliation of Rory when he used to fuck me .”
Fabian spoke, his voice a smooth, rich baritone. “Fuck yeah, love putting the cuckold husband in his place.”
Rory’s mouth was dry. “Anyway, Fabian offered to take me out so i didn't feel left out.”
He gave a slight nod. “Sarah’s been showing me some fascinating pictures on her phone over cocktails. Quite the evening you’ve had.”
Sarah pulled out her phone, tapping the screen. She held it up. It was a frozen image from Jewels’ apartment: Rory on his back, legs up, Alice’s thrusting against his arse, his face a mask of strained ecstasy.
“Alice is sexy” Sarah said, her tone conversational.
"She was using the same dildo i fucked you with." Jewels said.
"Wow, big, for a beginner!" Sarah laughed. "I've known much bigger though." She turned to Fabian as she said it, putting th emphasis on "much".
Fabian moved to stand behind Sarah, looking over her shoulder at the phone. His hands came to rest on her bare shoulders. “They fucked you like a bitch?” His voice a question, an amused tone underneth “What do you think, baby? Seeing your husband get fucked like that… it obviously turn you on” he added, his tone clinical. “You're hands were all over me in the bar, kissing whenever you could, don't know what other people thought!” He turned back to Rory.
Sarah leaned back into him, her body aligning with his instinctively. “It did,” she admitted, her voice dropping to a husky register. “And the company, of course .” She glanced at Rory, excitement and mischief—in her eyes. “It made me very wet.”
Silence swallowed the room after her admission. Fabian’s hand traced a slow circle on Sarah’s arse. His gaze, heavy and assessing, remained fixed on Rory.
"You're the host, I've been looking after your wife while you were out - enjoying yourself," Fabian finally said, his voice cutting through the thick air. He didn’t look away from Rory. "Fetch us some drinks from the kitchen, yeah? Whiskey for me. Sarah will have a glass of that wine."
It wasn’t a request. It was a dismissal, an errand for a servant. Rory stood frozen, his wife leaning against another man who was ordering him in his own home.
"Rory," Sarah said, her voice soft but firm with a glitter of excitement. "Do what he says."
Jewels just watched, sipping her drink, the picture of amusement.
A hot flush of shame crawled up Rory’s neck. He turned woodenly and walked out of the lounge, He moved quickly, not wanting to leave them too long. The clink of glass, the glug of whiskey, the pour of wine–his hands performed the tasks.
The cage felt like a humiliating anchor to the entire evening, worse as Fabian had told Sarah to get it a year ago. He took a steadying breath, the smell of the whiskey sharp in his nose, and picked up the two glasses.
He stopped in the doorway. Fabian and Sarah were locked in a passionate embrace on the sofa, kissing deeply. Sarah’s red dress was already rucked up high around her hips, exposing the black lace tops of her stockings and the thin straps of her suspender belt against her pale skin. One of Fabian’s big black hands was splayed high on her outer thigh, his fingers above the lace edge of her stocking, under the tight hem stroking the soft, bare flesh of her bum cheek.
"Your wife is having fun." Jewels said as he retuned, Fabian and Sarah broke off and looked at Rory, Sarah flushed and breathing deeply, Fabian smugly grinning, his arm still round Sarah proprietorially his hand still on her arse and thigh.
Fabian took the whiskey without a word of thanks, his eyes never leaving Rory’s face. Sarah accepted her wine, taking a slow sip, her lips leaving a faint red imprint on the glass. The air in the room was thick with perfume, expensive liquor, and the sharp scent of arousal.
Jewels leaned forward on the armchair opposite them. She grinned at Sarah, “Look at you,” Jewels purred, her voice a low rasp. “All worked up from your hot date. And seeing pictures of your husband used as a slut by two hot domme chicks.”
She leaned closer, “You must be dying for a really good fuck.” Sarah responded with a quiet but clear moan, "Oooh"
Fabian’s smirk widened. “Of course she is,” he stated, answering for her. “Aren’t you, baby?" He said with confidence bordering on arrogance. "All that teasing in the bar, my hand under the table. Seeing your cuckold husband like that” He finally looked at Rory, his expression one of cool evaluation. “So what’s it gonna be, Sarah?"
He placed his other hand on her breast through the tight dress and firmly rubbed and squeezed it. Sarah moaned loudly. “My big, black alpha cock,” he said, the words deliberate and heavy, “thick and hard and ready to stretch you married pussy . The one that used to fill and stretch you in hotel rooms so you's scream I had put my hand over your mouth so we didn' get thrown out. Remember how I’d pin you against the window, your tits pressed to the glass, and pound you from behind while you watched the people below?”
He paused, letting the explicit memory hang in the air. Sarah’s breathing had gone shallow. “Or,” Fabian continued, his gaze slicing back to Rory, “do you want your husband’s little, caged, white beta cock?” He spat the last two words out. “Probably hasn’t fully satisfied you in years. Not like Fabian's cock, your Master.” Sarah whimpered.
“Yes! Tell us,” Jewels urged, her own breathing now ragged. “Tell everyone which you really want. What you're been craving now.”
Sarah paused breathing deeply then she started spaking rapidly, panting, a sudden cascade, desperate hunger. “You know what I want! Him,” she gasped, the word bursting from her. She turned in Fabian’s grasp, clutching at his shirt. “I want him. I want Fabian.”
“Say it properly,” Fabian commanded, his voice dropping to a guttural growl. “Whose cock do you need?”
“Yours!” she cried, her voice rising. “Your cock, Master. Your big, black cock. Not his.” The words tumbled out now, a frantic confession. “I want my Master’s cock. I need it inside me. Please.”
Fabian’s gave a triumphant look to Rory. He stood, pulling Sarah up with him. Her wine glass placed quickly onto the coffee table, he spun her around and bent her over the back of the sofa, pushing the tight red dress up around her waist. The black lace of her thong was a dark contrast against her skin, already damp. He spanked her once .The sharp crack of his palm against her arse echoed in the sudden quiet. Sarah yelped, a sound that melted into a low moan as she pushed back against his hand. Fabian straightened, his expression of playful dominance .
He gently pulled her back upright. “Stand here.” He guided her to the center of the room, then retreated to the sofa, sinking into the cushions with a languid, kingly grace. He picked up his whiskey, took a slow sip, and looked at Sarah expectantly. “Undress. Down to your lingerie. I want to see what my slut wore for me.”
Sarah’s hands went to the side zip of her red bandage dress without hesitation. The sound of the zipper was loud. She shimmied the tight fabric down over her hips, letting it fall to a scarlet pool at her feet. She stood revealed in provocative and revealing black and leopard-print lingerie. The bra was two leopardskin patches at the top and bottom connected of black straps which her pierced nipples stuck between. The thong and the suspended belt matched.
“Turn,” Fabian ordered, swirling his glass.
She rotated slowly. The back was a complex web of thin, strappy black lace, framing the full, pale curves of her arse. The suspenders clipped to the tops of her sheer black stockings.
“Fucking spectacular,” Fabian breathed, his gaze heating. “Look at that arse. Made for me.” He leaned forward. “Come here.”
She walked to him, the click of her heels deliberate on the hardwood. He didn’t touch her at first, just drank her in. Then he reached out, his big, dark hand skimming up her stockinged thigh, tracing the suspender strap, until his fingers hooked into the side of her thong. He pulled the fragile lace aside for a moment, peering at the wet flesh beneath. “Soaking, pouting, already,” he commented to the room. “For me.”
He let the fabric snap back. He stood and, in one fluid motion, and pulled her to him. He kissed her, deep and possessive, one hand squeezing her lace-clad arse roughly. His other arm slid around her shoulders, locking her against his body. He turned them both to face where Rory stood, frozen by the door.
Fabian’s eyes, over Sarah’s shoulder, were coldly triumphant. “Now you,” he said to Rory. “Trousers off. Let’s see this cage my married slut bought for you. Never seen it other than in photos sarah showed me when i made her lock you to see me .”
Rory’s fingers fumbled at his belt, his face burning. He pushed his trousers and boxers down to his knees. The steel cage glinted in the lamplight. His trapped flesh looked squasahed within it.
Fabian chuckled, a low, disdainful sound. “Pathetic.” He kissed Sarah’s neck, his hand kneading her breast through the lace. “Tell Jewels,” he murmured into her skin. “Tell her why you want me to fuck you. Why I’m your Master.”
Sarah’s voice was shaky but clear, her eyes fixed on Jewels. “He makes me feel owned,” she began. “Because his cock…seriously, it’s so big. It’s dominant. It stretches me so full I can’t think.” She was panting again. “He fucks me like he’s claiming what’s his. And when he’s done, I feel… used. Properly used. Like I’m his slut, not a wife. I crave it.” She turned her head, looking up at Fabian with naked worship. “He’s my Master because he can make me beg. He can make me do anything. And I love it.”
Fabian smiled, a flash of white teeth. He squeezed her tighter. “Good girl.” He looked from Jewels to Rory, his dominance a physical pressure in the room. “You get all that, mate? Time to go upstairs.” He said the next words directly to Sarah, but they were a command for all. “I want you to serve me in your marital bed.”
Jewels uncoiled herself from the armchair, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Mind if I watch?” she asked, her voice a low, eager murmur.
Fabian laughed, a short, confident bark. “Of course?” He turned his head, his eyes—cold and commanding—landed on Rory. “You. Trousers and shirt off. Everybody, follow us up.”
He pulled Sarah towards the staircase, her stiletto heels clicking a frantic, eager rhythm on the wooden steps. Jewels moved like a shadow behind them, her eyes luminous with anticipation Rory following..