"Hello, Sir. My name is Cate, and I'm here to play a game called 'Earn an Orgasm' with you. Your role is to make me earn an orgasm. To do that, I must keep this chastity belt on for three hours while you try to get me to take it off. If I take it off early you get to punish me. Until the time expires or until I remove it, I will be at your mercy. For the punishment, how about we agree that you can give me fifteen hard bare-bottom bare-handed spanks and then fuck me any way you like? If that doesn't make me come, then you can either do it any way you like or watch me do myself."

"You said fifteen spanks? How about we make it thirty?"

For so long, I've fought recognition of the connection between sexual arousal and humiliation, fearing that it meant that my gender was 'designed' by natural selection or divine purpose to be inferior and submissive, that 'liberated' is neither a natural nor a desirable state for women, that despite the facts that I was an outstanding engineer and that I am now an outstanding manager of engineers, my place in life was to crave cock, be filled with sperm, make babies, and accept the inferior status that I acquired by sharing the same gender as Eve, the Original Cunt who broke the rules, bit into an apple, and had the audacity to share it with her fuck buddy, Adam. This is the advantage of talking to a shrink. This clarity about the source of my inner turmoil allows me to confront it.

Being humiliated really turns me on. With the help of my shrink, I finally admit that to myself. It is an uncomfortable thing to know about myself, but I've discovered that it is very common for both women and men, and that makes it not so bad. I'm sure that anthropologists have biological survival theories for why so many humans crave temporary sexual degradation to the status of slaves, but my shrink has helped me to accept that I don't really need a reason, I just need to practice restraint. And that goes double for the flip side of my nature, the occasional desire to dominate, to indulge in the control of my partner.

Ordinary sex used to feel great, and hopefully it will again some day. But until then, I can push the boundaries a little, take it slow, and strive for sex within the set of circumstances that makes it better. And it's okay if those circumstances are humiliating to me or my partner. Feeling pain does not turn me on, but spanking me like a misbehaving child does. Sucking a cock does not turn me on, but calling me a whore for doing it lights a fire in my pussy. Losing control of my body in the throes of orgasm is mildly humiliating, but with the right partner, I can carefully make it more humiliating and more enjoyable. I have to see whether my husband is the right partner for this. He responded very well to learning that I am bisexual. I intend to learn more about him, and let him learn more about me.

That's why I made up this game, and that's why I walked into the bedroom on a Saturday evening after the kids have returned to their boarding schools. I'm wearing a veil similar to Mrs. Miata's, garter and stockings, come-fuck-me pumps, and my new chastity belt, which I've held closed by easily removable pins. I'm holding both hands behind me to emphasize the steel bands and my bare breasts, and to keep him from seeing the present that I have for him.

Dan's cock is a grower. It can get quite small when he's not aroused and it seems even smaller now that I have others to compare it to, and now that he is in his mid-forties. I learned about growers from my research into male humiliation. Apparently there are men who get aroused by SPH, Small Penis Humiliation. They have tiny dicks that they call dicklets or clitlets. There are also growers who reach decent size but enjoy being humiliated for their small flaccid size. And there are also men who who have average or larger cocks, but who like to be humiliated because their cocks aren't even larger. Men. It all seems a little silly to me, but who am I to judge? I've never discussed Dan's size with him, but through my research, I discovered that if I catch him at the right time, he'll probably fit into a small cock cage with room to spare. I can use that for testing for sensitivity to SPH.

"Thirty? It's a deal. Your hand should be good and sore after that. Let's go over some rules. We'll abide by the same rules next week when you're wearing this and it will be your turn to earn an orgasm." I toss the small plastic cock cage to him. He might be too big for it, but I think it will fit when he is completely flaccid. If not, I have a larger one.

"Whoa, wait a minute, Cathy. I'm not the least bit interested in wearing that. That whole scene is just... I want nothing to do with chastity or orgasm denial."

"Sir, it's Cate. Please try to be open minded. It's not like I'll be locking it and throwing away the key. There will be no locks and no keys, just a pin or an easily-breakable seal. I learned about these devices because of sisterhood business. Parts of that scene are frightening to me, but parts of it are fascinating, in a disturbing kind of way. And my shrink thinks playing with these might help me. It didn't seem to bother you that Chelsea was part of that scene. Are you saying you won't even try what I'm already doing?"

"I don't understand why you want to put me in that at all. Are you trying to humiliate me? This wasn't part of the re-nup."

"Believe me, Sir, I don't want to do anything to you that you don't want. If you refuse to play, I promise I won't use the re-nup against you. I think this very temporary voluntary orgasm control for a short time under threat of a minor punishment might be good for both of us."

"It always starts that way, doesn't it. The woman locks the guy up for a little while and then the blackmail begins and the interval grows and grows until eventually she's out getting laid and he's locked up at home wearing panties and waiting to clean some other guy's cum from her stretched out pussy."

Clearly, I'm not the only one who's been researching the kinky sides of Internet porn. Unfortunately, he catches me looking down at his crotch and noticing that he's pitching a tent in his jeans. I'm not surprised at that. I've given a lot of thought to the validity of the idea that a man's erection can tell you exactly what he wants. I think it is often misleading. But, now he's embarrassed. He points at his bulge. "This doesn't mean that I want to do any of that."

"Believe me, Sir, I understand that." It's getting very difficult to continue calling him 'Sir', and to not be offended that he's ignoring the fact that I'm already constrained in chastity. "It's an involuntary subconscious response. It doesn't mean that you want it. You might be surprised at some of the things my body responds to, but I won't do them. Getting aroused at naughty thoughts is just a biological over-reaction to make sure that genes get spread around.

"Again, I don't want to force you to do anything that you don't want, Sir. I don't believe in orgasm denial. We had too much of that when we were only having sex once a week. It wasn't good for me then, and I'm sure you'll agree that it wasn't good for you. I'm sure that you already know this, but I also don't believe a marriage should be female dominated any more than it should be male dominated. We're partners. We each have our roles in this partnership. You married a woman who is caught in changing times. I halfway love the idea of total equality, of being liberated from traditional roles, but I halfway hate giving up what I have to give up. Equality means liberating you from the traditional roles that I've been raised to require from you.

"But there are two reasons that I think you should have faith in your ability to resist becoming a total cuckold slave. The first is that you are emotionally strong enough to walk away, to burn your life to the ground and start over without me if I cross the line. I can tell that about you. That strength is one of the things I love about you. Perhaps over time, under the right circumstances, the right person could break your spirit. But I'm not that person. I wouldn't want a man with a broken spirit and I wouldn't want the guilt of causing it."

"And the second reason?"

"The second reason is sort of the converse of the first. I am not so weak that I need a devoted slave or the feeling of power from dominating one. I met a woman like that and she disgusted me. The master in every master-slave relationship is always the true slave. The need to dominate is an emotional weakness. I'm not saying that the slave controls the master, but the master's life becomes centered around the slave's. I don't need that.

"I shouldn't tell you this, but through the sisterhood, I met a man who was abused the way you described. Chastity, panties, cuckolded, caned, the whole works. We liberated him from a sister who went off the rails. He was messed up and he still hasn't fully recovered, and I still haven't recovered from the experience of meeting him, but his wife's degradation far exceeds his. He has us in his corner now. Our re-nups aren't intended to put our men under our thumbs.

"And you saw how messed up Chelsea is. Being locked up and subject to the whims of the parent figure in her life makes her feel safe. She shouldn't need that, but she was a victim and victims find their own way to cope. I brought her into the sisterhood so that she'll have our support if any man abuses her trust.

"So, I've had a glimpse of the extremes, and despite those experiences, I'm sitting here wearing this because I think these devices can help me overcome my inhibitions. I would never lock yours, and I won't let you lock mine. Dammit Dan... I'm sorry... please, Sir, have some faith in your ability to resist pleasing me too much, so you can look out for your own good. You've done that in the past."

I didn't want to go there. I didn't want to bring up the infidelity that exploded our marriage. But it finally got through to him.

"Well, I guess if you can play with fire like this, I can too. I have no desire to deny you pleasure or to deny myself access to your... treasure."

I smile at his obviously impromptu rhyme, but on the inside, I'm doing a victory dance. "I have no desire to do either of those with you. Shall we get started?"

"So, you'll do what I want for three hours or until you take that off, as long as I don't break the rules."

"Yes."

I watch the wheels roll over in his mind. I fully expect him to try teasing me, making me so horny that I 'break' and take my belt off. I'm looking forward to his attempt. I fully intend to keep the belt on for two hours and fifty-five minutes, and then, when it is clear that I could last the final five minutes, I plan to take the belt off. I want to see how he responds to that, and how he copes with spanking me.

"Tell me the rules."

I give him a list of rules, including things he can't do to me, like using physical force to make me pull the pins. I also make sure that he understands that I won't reveal sisterhood business.

Unfortunately, I see him suddenly get a very sly grin. "Okay, fair enough. Tell me about Cate."

His question doesn't violate the rule against revealing sisterhood business and I have to cooperate or take off my belt. The sly bastard might beat me at my own game. He has asked a very general question, so I can give a simple answer without being evasive. But I know that he can bore down from the general to the specific like a lawyer in a courtroom. He has that very annoying gift.

"Cate is a confident pleaser. I call her Cate Confidence."

"A pleaser?"

"Yes, I enjoy pleasing others whom I believe are worthy."

"And since you are here, you must believe that I am worthy. It would please me if you would take that belt off so we can have sex."

He's trying to dismiss the game, a response I expected. We are playing with fire here and either or both of us could get burned.

"I haven't earned sex with you and you haven't tried hard enough to earn the chance to spank me."

He doesn't like this answer. I have temporarily thwarted him.

"Are you always a pleaser?"

"Cate Confidence is. She's the side of me that seeks the reward of submission. But I'm not always a pleaser. You haven't met Sister Cate yet. That happens next week when you'll have to earn an orgasm."

I watch as the bulge in his pants expands a little. I take it as evidence that there is at least some interest in being dominated. Despite his denial of that interest, he has devoted some time to learning about the scene. In a way, he has already met Sister Cate, but the circumstances were wrong. All the years when our sex life was so bad, that was Sister Cate expressing her displeasure with him. He always tried to please me, but the Cate Confidence side of me was raising children. The Sister Cate side of me was too many parts saint and too few parts sinner.

Pointing at his cock, he asks, "Am I... inadequate to please you?"

Oh, shit! I never thought I would hear that question come from Dan. We have never discussed his 'adequacy'. Until after his infidelity, I had nobody to compare him to. But I've got a bigger database now, and several of them have been much larger than Dan, whom I learned is barely above average for a white male. I've also been fucked by a few strapons and they never go soft too soon. Not having to worry about premature ejaculation and loss of stimulation helps me to come more quickly and to enjoy it more. So a truly honest answer to his question would be, 'Sometimes.', but I dare not say that directly.

I'm pretty sure that he's thinking only of his cock size, probably only his cock length. That seems to be the number one factor in the relationship most men have with their dick. In terms of size, it's actually width or maybe girth that matters most to me. An average cock is good for oral or anal, not so good for straight fucking and not so emotionally impressive.

During my gangbang experience, in a room full of hard cocks, my attention was repeatedly drawn to the longest and the thickest, but I was both fascinated and repulsed by it. So size is not completely unimportant, but not terribly important, either. And of course, there is the matter of how long it lasts before going limp. But I got myself into this discussion and I have to answer something. I really don't want to take the belt off because of *this* question. He might think the wrong thing.

"Dan, I know that you want a straight answer, but it's a complicated question. I love fucking you. It's a wonderful feeling. It excites and pleases me. But I love the emotional aspects of it more than the physical aspects. You already know that I almost never come unless my clit is getting the stimulation it needs. That doesn't usually happen from just intercourse. I almost never get enough stimulation without something extra. That's probably how it is with most women, despite all the stories to the contrary."

I take a deep breath, because I had said, 'almost never get enough stimulation,' and I know I should explain. "But I'll be honest with you. A really thick cock can make me come without anything else. I barely get enough stimulation of my clit, but it gives me a nice long buildup and a good orgasm. But I can live without that, because before plain old intercourse stimulates my clit enough, I have to feel stretched and it has to hammer pretty hard, almost painfully so, for a long time, like six to ten minutes. I don't have the strength to ride hard enough on top for that long, and I doubt many guys can pound away hard enough for that long and still enjoy doing it. That takes stamina, orgasm control, and a lot of meat."

"None of which I have. I'm not exactly large."

"But you're not exactly small either. You're about average, actually a little above in both length and girth. You start out small, but you're a grower. Don't even worry about how dinky it looks when you're not hard. There's nothing wrong with what you have. I just have to have some extra stimulation at the right place."

"And that takes either a big cock or..."

"Fingers or a toy. Just something direct. I'm not a size queen. Do you even know what that is?"

"Yes, Cathy. I'm not exactly a stranger to the Internet."

"I'm sorry, I just... I don't know what you know. See, we're learning about each other now. Anyway, if your size bothers you, there's at least one possible solution we can experiment with. It's called a cock sleeve or a hollow dildo. You put your cock inside it. I have no idea how it would feel to you, but it stays hard if you don't and they come in several sizes. So orgasm control won't matter and your size won't matter. It's just a question of how long I can grind on you or you can pound away at me.

"Honestly, it might be fun to try that, but I think we should be prepared for that not to work. We're not getting any younger and strenuous sex isn't necessarily the best sex anyway. There are other options. We've learned one way to make you last longer. You come once, recover and then we get down to the main event. That makes sex take a long time with a long recovery break in the middle and I still need direct stimulation on my clitty.

"But there's something I hope you've realized. I have come a long way from the frigid impossible bitch you used to try to please.

I don't need to always come first or at the same time when we fuck. To be honest, sometimes I wish you would just 'take me' and fuck me and not even worry about whether I come until after you've shown me how irresistible I am. I think I've grown comfortable enough so that a quickie would be okay with me. I wouldn't feel ill-used as long as there was followup later."

"You have come a long way, and I'm very grateful for that. But what do you mean by 'followup'?"

"Tongue, or fingers, or toys, or I get to jump your bones and use my own fingers. At least we've made that much progress."

"Well that seems only fair, Cathy. But seriously, um Cate. Why are we doing this?" He pointed to the chastity belt.

"Oh, such a simple question and such a complicated answer. When you cheated on me, you broke something inside me. You turned me into a cuckquean. Yes, I've been learning a lot about the dark side of relationships. You basically gave me a choice to either tolerate other women in your life as your wife or as your ex-wife. There was no way that I could ever believe that it was a one-time thing.

"I was one hundred percent ready to set a match to our marriage. Then I..." I stop myself just short of telling him that I went off and had sex with a woman. It may seem unfair, but I still want him to wonder about how I spent the time I was absent, and who I spent it with, and how I gained so much confidence and used it against him. "I drew you into this open marriage agreement and cuckolded you. And we're both still fucking other people and we're both somehow coping with that."

I deliberately said, 'cuckolded', to see how he would respond. He didn't. He accepted it as fact.

"I think I'll never be able to fully trust you again, but I do still love you and I have a lot of respect for you. We almost fell apart because of poor communication. I know that I still have trouble directly talking about our desires, and I think you do, too. So I'm finding ways to let you know what I want you to know without directly saying it, and ways to learn about your desires without asking you or requiring you to tell me directly, because I think that's so hard for either of us to do. It's a way of letting you know how far I'm willing to go, and in which directions, all so we can make the most of our life together."

"Honestly Cathy, I've been hoping that you would eventually trust me again. It hurts to hear you say never. Did I really hurt you that much?

"Yes! No! It wasn't so much that you hurt me. You woke me up! You want me to be honest, don't you Dan? I'm one of those 'fool me twice, shame on me' types. The way I see it, I've agreed to stay in a marriage with a guy who fooled me once. And yes, I know I deserve my share of the blame for that, but still, I was fooled once. I have to stay prepared to burn this marriage and walk away, even if I actually can trust you. My self esteem depends on it, and if you do something that makes a hasty exit the right thing to do, and I'm not ready for it, I'll be blaming myself whether I deserve it or not. Being prepared keeps me doing the things that I have to do to make not trusting you not matter. So I strive to make myself immune to infidelity."

"By evening the score."

"I guess maybe it looks that way, and maybe there was an element of that in what I did, but I knew I shared a lot of the blame. I had to take the steps to correct for that. So I sent the gifts to you. It was very hard to do that. And to be honest, not all of my reason for doing it was good. I was thinking that they might reduce my share of the blame by confirming that you weren't a good lover. Every damn one of them failed to give me that excuse. They all thought you were great."

"Wait a minute. Are you saying that they gave you some sort of rating on me?"

"Something like that. They gave feedback. The point is, they were appreciating what I was failing to appreciate. You were a desirable lover. I didn't send pros to you. I sent women who compared you to their own husband, and to other men they've been sent to, and you came out favorably. You're considerate and willing to do what it takes to please them and you don't make it difficult for them to please you. Because of them, I had to take a hard look at myself, and I didn't like what I saw. Haven't we talked about all of this before? I'm sure I've had this conversation with you a thousand times in my head."

"No, we haven't talked about this. What didn't you like about yourself."

"That I was being impossible to please. That I was comparing you to perfect fantasy men that don't exist. That I was dumping all of the responsibility for my happiness on you, especially in the bedroom, and that I was bottling up all of my unhappiness, from all of the stress in my life, and blaming you for not taking it away from me. I had to take charge of my own happiness, and because we share so much, our children and our love for each other, I had to change. So I changed. I did things that I thought could help both of us. And I did things the sisterhood needed me to do. And here I am, wearing a chastity belt and answering for my past failures. This did not go at all as I planned, but it feels good to have that off my chest.

"So now I act to make the kind of world that I want to live in. Now you can be sure that I'm here because I genuinely want to be, not because I feel I have to be. And I know that my life has more purpose now than it did. You know that I admit to being selfish?"

"Yes, Cathy, we both are. Admitting it is one of the things I love about you."

"Well I'm going to do my best to protect myself. I thought I could depend on you for that, but you woke me up."

"Oh, Cathy, you can depend on me to protect you."

"No! No trust, remember? I have to make not being able to trust you not matter. Remember? Like friends with benefits who happened to have kids together."

"You make it sound so... devoid of romance."

"You married an engineer, Dan, not a manicurist. When you tell me that you love me, it sounds great and it makes me feel loved and wanted, but I'm a realist. We have the foundation for a lifelong loving friendship, but above it is a house of cards built around our land mines. It's the friendship that I really want to maintain, and if that means screw the romance, then screw the romance. Communication helps us strengthen that house and defuse those land mines."

"Oh." I could tell he was really considering what I had just said, so I remained silent. Finally, he said, "I guess you're right. But aren't you worried that this could go too far."

"Yes, that's a concern, but the null hypothesis could bite us also. We're in a minefield either way. If we don't do this, and if we don't take it far enough, the result could be as bad or worse and it would be our fault for not trying."

"I see your point. Okay, so let me take a step forward here. Maybe we should get one of those cock sleeve things. It doesn't sound like it would hurt to experiment with it. You're right that I want to please you. Is this something we need to do together or can you choose one."

Yes! Another victory. I will buy that clear hollow dildo. I will let him try to please me with just that. I hope he comes inside it, but maybe it will be even better if he doesn't. Then I'll let him use me to please himself however he wants.

"I know just which one I want to try. I'll take that task."

"Tell me more about just wanting me to take you and fuck you and not try to make you come first."

Oh-oh. It would take the fun out of it, if I knew he was doing it to please me.

"It's just something that I'm in the mood for sometimes. But if I have to let you know that I'm in that mood, I won't know whether you're doing it because you can't resist or doing it because you think it will please me. I want to feel irresistible."

"Oh my god, Cathy. This may sound bad, but I've so often wanted to just throw you on the bed and get my rocks off without having to worry about you, but I always thought it would just disappoint you and then I would feel guilty."

"Well if you do it when I'm not in the mood, I could feel ill-used and unhappy. I won't hate you, but I might not like you until I've punished you enough."

"It sounds like I could be damned if I do and damned if I don't."

"Yup. But I'll do my best to make it an overall thing."

"What the heck does that mean?"

"If you treat me right afterwards and leave me no choice about whether I feel treated well enough, the after-treatment will cancel the disappointment. I know that's kind of touchy-feely and I know that my emotions are a minefield, but that comes with the package."

I realized the absurdity of playing the emotion card so soon after playing the logical engineer card, but we send out emotional signals subconsciously. It's quite a different thing than when deciding whether to keep him as a husband or change him to a wasband.

I'll try to be submissive and forgiving if he decides to 'take me' at the wrong time. I want him to shed inhibitions, but I also want orgasms and I don't want to feel like I'm just his fuck puppet. I've tolerated it because I know I'm messed up, but I want to get past that. He comes quickly and I don't. I blame him, but sometimes I'm the problem. My head's not in the zone. But I've learned that being licked or whatever to orgasm after a guy has already come still qualifies as good sex. I was dumb to ever think otherwise.

"Okay," he laughs, "So my performance will be averaged over longer than it takes to get my jollies. That seems fair enough. So tell me about these things that make you wet."

"I've already told you one of them. Remember the story I was telling you about not wearing panties in the restaurant?"

"Oh, yes. I liked that story. A woman noticed."

"Yes, and you... overstimulated yourself, and I had to cut the story short. Yes, that was one of my fantasies."

"Ah, please tell it to me again. I'll try to last longer. But first, lets get comfy. I want to touch you while you tell it."

The bastard! He talked with me long enough, got what he wanted, and now he found a way to make this chastity a real torture. Maybe he'll ruin my plan. Maybe I won't be able to last until it's almost too late to earn my punishment. Maybe I'll earn it early. I lay back on my pillow and Dan snuggles up next to me.

"Okay, are you ready?" It's a dumb question, but I suddenly get nervous about telling him a fantasy that I've masturbated to so many times. To answer me, Dan blows softly on my nipple and sends a shiver of ecstasy through me.

"Okay, we're going out for dinner and you tell me you want to see me in my shortest little black dress."

"Mmmm, I wish I was recording this."

"Shhh. Just before we go out the door, you drop to your knees and pull my panties down and tell me to step out of them. I ask you why and you say, 'Sluts have no need for panties.'"

"It's true."

"Shhh. We get to the restaurant, Pierre's, and you ask for a booth in the back. We're seated where nobody else can see us, but after we order, another couple, a handsome man and a beautiful red haired woman are seated in the booth across from us. I make eye contact with the woman and she smiles. I smile back. You notice that she's looking at me and you order me to hike my dress up a little."

Dan licks his fingertips and then uses them to 'tune the radio', gently twisting my already stiff nipple back and forth. "Ah yes, you already know that you can get arrested for that."

"Yes, this is one of those things we're never going to risk in real life."

I notice that he's once again getting a nice bulge in his jeans.

"All throughout dinner, you tell me to hike my hem up a little bit at a time. Eventually, I can look down in my lap and see my shaved pussy."

His fingers on one nipple along with my story have started to heat up my dynamo. He moves his hand down and taps his fingertips on the metal dome over my clit, sending little shocks into my awakening vulva. I make a mental note to send Serena word on how effective this custom design is.

"Ah, god that feels good. Um, the woman is getting an eyeful, but her date is completely oblivious. She notices that I'm looking at her as I catch her licking her lips. She smiles and sends me a sly little smooch. She looks a little worried that I might reject her, but I slip my tongue out and wipe it side to side on my upper lip."

"Oh, yes, this is getting really good." He moves his fingers back up to my nipple, leans over and licks my other nipple. I can't figure out what to do with my hands. I want to touch my bare skin, or his. If I was masturbating to this fantasy, I would already have one hand where his tongue is and the other where the dome is. My fingers crave the feel of flesh, so I tuck them under my ass, but that makes me more aroused, so I pull them back out and lay them flat on the sheets.

"You order me to unzip your trousers and take your cock out. I pull it through the fly of your boxers and the pretty ginger woman looks very interested. Your hand slides over to my pussy and starts to slide slowly up and down my slit, just barely touching me." His cock is really straining his jeans now. "I see that you're enjoying my fantasy. Maybe you'll remember this when it's your turn in the cage."

"Is it getting difficult?"

"Yes, but I think I can handle it. You say, 'Stroke me.'"

"Stroke me." His voice sounds sexier than I've ever heard it. My pussy feels incredibly wet, but it's so tightly covered that I can't confirm that. I take a deep breath, feeling my breasts roll. Dan's fingers and tongue ride them.

"I obey." Those two words have an amazing effect on him. He crawls on top of me, forcing first one and then the other knee between my legs. He humps my hard stainless steel crotch prison, the feel of his denim covered legs as they rub against my thighs is maddening. I have two warm fires on either side of a smoldering pit that's starving for fuel. Make that four warm fires. He's kissing and licking my nipples. He pulls the veil off and then kisses my face. I kiss him back as he thrusts against me.

"You know... I'll never finish this story if you keep doing that."

"Are you going to take that belt off?"

"Not unless you open it. Are you as frustrated as I am?"

"Yes, dammit." He climbs off, his competitive streak won't let him succumb to his own lust.

"Oh look, your poor cock is so hard."

"Continue."

"The woman slips her hand up her skirt and starts rubbing herself through her panties. She says something to the man and he looks over and sees my bare pussy. He smiles. The woman unzips his fly and reaches in. His cock is small at first, but it grows as it hardens, just like yours. The man reaches down and starts to stroke it. The woman looks around to make sure nobody else is watching her. She slips her panties off and pulls the hem of her dress way up.

"Thank god for those little lights in the strips on the floor that warn people that there is a short step up to the booths. They light the underside of the tables perfectly, I see a rare sight. She has a flame red bush. It's a small triangle, but her hair is not short. It's wild like a flame and it inflames me.

"We sit, you stroking me, me stroking you, the man stroking himself, and the woman stroking herself. I can't decide who to watch, and I think we are all letting our eyes wander around. I catch his eyes, then hers, but I mostly look lower. Her hand on her pussy moves slowly, savoring the scene, and your hand on my pussy seems to be in sync with hers.

"His hand on his cock speeds up and I match his pace on your cock. The ginger woman's face and neck flush and I imagine that mine do, too. I hear a grunt and see a white stream shoot up from the man's cock. I stroke yours a little faster and feel you tense, just before warm splashes of your cum start to cascade down my fingers. I keep stroking as you continue to rub my clit.

"I whisper, 'Now' and you stroke me perfectly, the tip of your middle finger doing that thing that only you can seem to do. I start to shudder first, barely able to keep quiet, but the woman soon follows. We're coming simultaneously, across the aisle from each other, our eyes locked on each other's. She looks like she's in a blissful universe that's only connected to ours by my eyes. I raise my hand and lick your cum from it and she suddenly moans as a secondary orgasm overtakes her. She grabs the man's hand and licks his cum.

"I maintain eye contact with her as I lift your hand to my mouth and lick my juices from it. She lifts her hand and licks her strawberry sauce from it. She's my puppet now. The man seems a little upset that her attention has fastened on me, but I lean close and kiss you and she does the same to him. We are all drunk on afterglow. The mood slides from the most erotic mood I've ever had to the most loving mood as I look into your eyes and say, 'Thank you for letting me be your slut.'"

"Oh, god, Cate. How much longer?"

"Two more hours, Sir. Would you like me to suck your cock?"

"You would do that?"

"You can order me to. It's not against the rules."