Chapter 66: The Morning After
The only sound was Margot’s slowing breath, a contented hum in the thick air. Then, a chuckle. It started low in her throat, rich and warm, and was joined by another, drier, more amused laugh from Julia’s direction.
“Oh, my love,” Margot sighed, her voice lazy with satisfaction. “You always were talented with your mouth when you put your mind to it.”
The laughter pooled between them, a shared secret that expanded to fill the dungeon. Rupert remained on his knees, disoriented, the taste of her on his lips making the reality spin. He was both the excluded third and the central instrument.
“Alright, enough of the mystery for now,” Julia said, her practical tone cutting through the intimacy. “Let’s let the poor man see.”
He felt her hands at the back of his head, the efficient unbuckling of straps. The leather hood was lifted away, and the dim, amber light of the dungeon struck his eyes like a physical blow. He blinked, his vision swimming before resolving.
He was still on all fours. Directly before him was Margot, reclined in a heavy, throne-like chair of dark oak and red velvet. She was gloriously, unabashedly naked, her skin flushed, her riotous red curls damp at her temples. A smile played on her lips—not mischievous now, but deeply, carnally satisfied. Her eyes held his, and in them he saw no embarrassment, only a bold, thrilling pride.
Julia stood to the side, still in her severe black attire, a faint smile on her face as she coiled the leash in her hands. “Surprise,” she said, not unkindly.
“Margot,” Rupert croaked, his voice rough from disuse and shock.
“Hello, darling,” she said, shifting to sit up.
“I… you…” He couldn’t form a sentence. The accountant in him scrambled for logic, for a sensible emotional response, but all that surfaced was a storm of confusion, betrayal, and a sharp, undeniable heat.
Julia intervened. “Time for you two to have a proper little reunion session. Catch up.” She pointed a finger at him. “Stand. Hands behind your back.”
He moved automatically, his muscles stiff from kneeling. He rose, his nakedness feeling more exposed now under their combined gaze. He clasped his hands behind him, the posture feeling both submissive and oddly formal.
Julia approached. Her fingers, cool and sure, found his nipples. She pinched, rolled, her touch clinical and expert. A jolt went through him, a direct wire to his groin. He flinched, but she held him firm. “We need you at attention for this part,” she murmured, her focus on her task.
He felt himself hardening under her relentless manipulation, the shameful arousal from before surging back, amplified by Margot’s watchful eyes. His erection stood full and eager, a betrayal of his confused mind.
“There,” Julia said, satisfied. She stepped back and, with a deliberate slowness, hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her black lace thong. She slid them down her legs, stepped out of them, and held the scrap of fabric up. “A little incentive to stay interested.”
She walked over and, with a flourish, draped the delicate black lace over the tip of his erect cock. It hung there, a ridiculous, intimate flag. The scent of her, different from Margot’s, clung to the material.
“That’ll keep him occupied,” Julia said to Margot, who was now standing, stretching like a satisfied cat. “While you get ready.”
Margot’s eyes sparkled. She followed Julia to a tall, lacquered cabinet which Julia opened to reveal an array of harnesses, straps, and a dizzying assortment of silicone shapes in various sizes and colors. It was like a toolbox for pleasure.
“Right then,” Julia said, her voice taking on a tutorial tone. “This is a basic harness, very sturdy. You’ll want it tight, higher on the hips than you think.” She helped Margot step into the black nylon straps, adjusting buckles with quick, practiced tugs. Margot watched her own reflection in a dark-framed mirror, her expression one of intense concentration and growing excitement.
“Now, the important part,” Julia continued, gesturing to the dildos. “What’s his comfort level? Or rather, what do you want it to be?”
Margot bit her lip, her eyes scanning the options. “He’s a virgin. In this department, anyway.” She reached out, her fingers hovering over a modest, tapered shape in a deep burgundy, then bypassed it for a thicker, veined one in a flesh tone. “But we’re making up for lost time.” She picked it up, hefting its weight. “This one.”
“A classic choice,” Julia approved, helping her attach it to the O-ring of the harness. It jutted out from Margot’s pelvis, an absurd and powerful appendage. Margot turned, assessing herself in the mirror, and a grin of pure, wicked delight spread across her face.
Rupert watched, mesmerized and terrified. The lace on his cock seemed to burn. This was his wife, the president of the Women’s Institute, strapping on a cock to fuck him with. The world had not just tilted; it had inverted.
Margot turned to face him, the dildo leading the way. She walked over, her movements newly confident with the gear. She stopped inches from him, looking up into his face. She gently removed Julia’s thong from him, handing it back to Julia without breaking eye contact.
“I’ve always wanted to do this, Rupert,” she said, her voice low and serious. “For years. I’ve dropped hints, bought books, left them on your nightstand. You just kept filing them under ‘fiction’.” She reached out and stroked his cheek, her touch tender. “No more filing. Now, let’s get you strapped in.”
Julia guided them to a heavy, padded bench upholstered in black leather. It had supports for knees and elbows, and a series of straps with heavy buckles. “The fucking bench,” Julia announced. “It’s all about positioning and restraint.”
With Julia’s instruction, Margot helped Rupert get onto it. He knelt on the padded rests, his torso leaning forward over the bench’s body. Margot buckled a broad strap across his lower back, another across his thighs, cinching them firmly but not painfully. He was immobilized, bent over, utterly presented.
Margot stepped back, running her hands over the straps, checking their tightness. She looked at Julia, who gave an approving nod.
“All yours, my dear,” Julia said, moving to a high stool in the corner, a spectator now.
Margot positioned herself behind him. He felt the cool, slick tip of the silicone press against him. He tensed.
“Relax, my love,” Margot whispered, her hands on his hips. “This is my gift to you, too.”
She pushed forward.