Threesome

We were both nervous and excited, astounded that we were going to do what we'd actually managed to talk about. Ours was a good relationship, sound, but not perfect. The main disappointment to both of us was sex. We'd talked and talked and talked about it, but somehow we never made it quite work.

That's not to say we couldn't have good enjoyable sex, we could. What we struggled with was getting things going. Finding out when both of us were in the mood and everything clicked. It really fell apart after we had kids, months could go by without us making love.

Funny thing was we still both loved and desired each other. There was no question of us breaking up, even apart from the kids neither of us were interested in that. So, in all our talking about sex, one of us had managed to say that a threesome could be fun.

There it had sat in the bed between us for the longest time, until Ros actually made the next move. She quietly one night said that if I could stand another man in the bed, she might possibly, though not if I objected in any way, find that interesting.

So, after some hemming and hawing and laying down of ground rules we'd ended up with this night. The kids in bed, thank God they were sound sleepers, and a stranger about to arrive for a drink and maybe something more. We'd checked him out closely, and it turned out he liked doing it with couples because he was able to provide a clean police check and doctors letter certifying himself 'clean'.

Neither of us was quite sure what would happen, we hadn't been up to talking about that. I hoped I'd be able to join with him in making love to my wife and driving her mad with pleasure. I was half willing to stand and watch so long as Ros had fun and I was able to jump her bones after.

So here we sat, sharing a bottle of wine to loosen ourselves up as we waited. I was dressed in a smart shirt and trousers, my wife in as sexy a dress as she would wear. It was actually pretty conservative. Happy as she would walk around nude or semi dressed in front of me, she was very straight laced in what she wore. It was one of the disappointments in my life. Still, she looked great. Despite two kids, and things not being as firm as they once were I loved her body.

The bell rang, we both jumped up from the sofa, then stared at each other until the bell rang again. Taking her hand we went and opened the door. In walked... him. Good looking, thirty something, not dressed overly different from me. He carried a big black leather bag, and I wondered what he brought along? A change of cloths for after?

He and I shook hands, then he gently kissed my wife's cheek and complimented her on her looks. She blushed but was obviously pleased. We led him into the living room and I poured him a drink. A bit oddly he sat on the sofa opposite us.

"I'll start off. This is your night, but its also mine. I'm here to open your minds, hopefully way beyond what you could have imagined. You've been clear about your ground rules, and I accept them. I'm clean, I promise to be the soul of discretion, and I'm not into sex which hurts or damages. Well, sex that really hurts rather than hurts good." My wife clutched my hand. That struck a cord with her?

"Here's my rules." He looked me in the eye. "I'm here for sex with your wife. Not with you, and not sharing her with you. That means you watch. Worse, I want to make sure all you do is watch. You stand at the sidelines with your hands tied over your head and your mouth gagged."

My wife spoke up, "I'm not sure..."

He held a hand up, "Look, like you know I've done this before. Men fall into one of three categories. If we're lucky he's easy going, really loves you and above all wants to make sure you come out of this happy and radiant." He held up his hand again when it was clear I wanted to interject and assure everyone that's what I wanted. "The second type of man thinks he's the first, but once we get into it finds he's actually jealous, usually insanely jealous. That's not good."

"The third gets into it, and finds he's really truly a submissive and gets off as much by seeing his wife used without his say as he does by her getting pleasured. By binding you up, I make sure we win whatever you turn out to be. If you're the first, then you really won't mind, and you'll put up with the humiliation because you love your wife. If you're the second, then it teaches you both a lesson with no hard feelings on any side. If you're the third then you learn something completely new about yourself and the two of you move on into a new world."

"Its my rule, and if you don't agree we shake hands and I leave now." I sat there as my wife clutched my hand. I knew her so well it was clear that her silence meant it was my decision. Still, equally by the way she was clutching my hand it was clear that she wanted to go for this.

"All right, OK..." She kissed my cheek.

"OK, rule one is passed. I've got more. Second, though I won't involve you in the sex, I might want to increase your humiliation just to test you, part of this is proving yourself to your wife. You agree to be bound in as much as you're also agreeing to being helpless and in my control. I won't hurt you, but you might not like it. Then again, you might..."

"No sex right? I'm not gay."

He laughed, "Don't worry, it's not your ass I plan on fucking tonight." She gasped, and I went still, but then we both laughed. That is what we were here for. "Third rule, and this one's for you." He was looking at her now. "Tonight, you're mine. What I say goes, what I want, you do. No hesitation, no saying no. You of course retain the right to stop anything we do, but if you do I walk out then and there."

"You... won't hurt me?"

He smiled, "No... well not more than's good for you."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

"I promise, no cuts, no scrapes, no broken bones. A few bruises or a twisted ankle from a new position I don't guarantee."

She laughed, "Uhmmm, if he's tied up I can't agree to my being bound in any way. That just wouldn't be safe."

"No problem, the B&D is just for your husband. You... just get fucked... hard." I looked at her and the way her pupils had gone big. This was getting to her already. "Are we agreed?"

We looked at each other, and she stroked my cheek, softly asking if I was really OK with this. "Yes, just don't expect this to end when he's done. I'm likely going to have a long hard go at you myself."

Her eyes glowed; I'd never talked to her like that. "I'll be expecting it."

"OK," he was pulling something out of his bag. "This is for you, and you put it on him. If he's getting all tied up, it's his wife that's going to do it to him." He'd thrown over a pair of padded leather write cuffs. Nervously I put out my hands and she, equally nervous, strapped them around my hands. With the last click it was like there was this bong in my head. "Tell him to stand over here and put his hands over his head.

I felt a bit funny, and thought I should say something, but she grinned, "Stand over here darling, lets tie you up!" Silently I stood and walked towards her. It was like when she spoke to me there was absolutely no way I could not do what she said. Even saying that it was clear there were bounds, my mind was testing what felt like new paths in my brain. There were things she could tell me to do and I would do, other things I could do or not do as I felt. Weird. I thought I should say something, but there was this compulsion in me that if I hadn't been talked to I hadn't a reason to speak.

I put my hands out as she clipped my wrists together with a d-ring attached to a thin rope. I looked up and saw it looped through a hook I'd never noticed in the ceiling before. Funny how you could live in a place for years, but never notice little details like that.

He pulled the rope up, lifting my arms tight up above my head. With a grin he went back to that bag and pulled something made of black leather out.

He showed it to my wife, and after giggling she threw me a wicked grin. "We're going to make you look lovely darling!". She held up what turned out to be a leather face mask tooled on the outside to look like a pretty woman's face, complete with a long thin neck.

I was dumbfounded. They wanted to put that on me? She walked up and stroked my cheek. "I kind of get what he means now. It's a bit of a turn on humiliating you just a bit. I promise I'll make it up to you. You can return the favour in spades. So, you'll let me put this on?"

I paused for a minute, thinking hard. That wasn't the question I wanted to answer. I didn't want this anymore. Something was wrong, but I wasn't quite sure what. Yet I had to answer her question. I had to; it was a driving need building up inside me.

"Yes.". I didn't want her to, but there was no question that I'd let her do it.

She gave me a hard kiss to the lips, then mouthed, "I love you". I watched the inside of the mask approach me like it was my doom. Oddly the inside was as intricately. tooled as the outside had been, just in reverse. It looked too small, too tight. I wasn't sure how it would fit me.

She was behind me, pulling it up. As it touched me it felt warm, almost like skin. Sure enough it was hard and fit up against my face uncomfortably. The discomfort increased as she did up what felt like complicated lacing.

I started to panic. It was too tight, but worse it started to feel like my face was melting into this new shape. I could actually feel me cheekbones, jaw and neck shift to mould to the outline of the new face!

I didn't know what was happening, but with my jaw held tightly and the small bit that had entered my mouth with the mask holding my tongue down I couldn't make a sound.

I looked at my wife, feeling panicked and scared. She clearly thought nothing was wrong because she giggled, stroked and kissed my leather-clad cheek. "You look marvelous!" Then laughed again.

He, whatever he was, laughed as well, then handed her a long thin steel rod with two more padded cuffs at each end. "To make him completely helpless."

She took it, wide eyed, then dropped to her knees and spreading my feet did up the cuffs around my ankles. By her flushed cheeks I could tell she was really turned on. I was scared shitless, but was now totally helpless. I could barely move as I was spread top to bottom so tight, and the mask ensured I couldn't make a sound.

Then came an even more shocking moment. He looked me straight in the eyes as she stood up, turned her by the shoulders, then put his lips to hers. This was what I had dreamed about, but I was shocked out of it when I felt lips pressing against mine.

My mind sort of disengaged, I couldn't make sense of what was happening. I was standing, bound, alone. Across from me this stranger was kissing my wife hard. There was no one in front of my eyes. Yet I felt lips pressed in a hard kiss against me!

His eyes locked on to mine over her shoulder. Just as they did I felt a tongue, a tongue that tasted of leather, slip between my lips. Was I dreaming? I could certainly feel the light, stretching pain in my arms and shoulders, so this wasn't a dream. It certainly was unreal though.

As I watched him kiss my wife, I felt a tongue hotly probe my mouth. What sacred me even more was the growing realization that the feel of those phantom lips seemed to match how he was kissing my wife.

He broke away. "Now to get you dressed, my little vixon."

Her voice was a bit breathless, a bit uncertain. "You don't like what I'm wearing?"

He smiled and looked down into her eyes. "Its fine, sexy even, for a night out at the cinema. Tonight though is about sex, and I want you dressed in something that will please me."

He turned and pulled out an elegant box. "Go upstairs and put these things on.". She took the box, smiled with an amazed look on her face at each of us in turn, and then literally skipped out of the room.

He came over and locked his eyes on mine, "Scared yet?" I nodded, once and hard. "Don't be, just relax and enjoy the ride.". He turned back to his bag, and humming some tune, got a few things out. First, another elegant box to match the one my wife had just taken upstairs Next he pulled out a large and wicked pair of scissors, frightening me down to my toes.

Next came out a folded blanket that, when unfolded, turned out to be a huge fur rug that couldn't have fit in his bag. This was really freaking me out. Finally, he just stripped out of his cloths, flopped on his sofa with one of our discarded glasses of wine and checked out the room.

With an almost sick fascination I checked his body out. I had to admit, he was fit and trim. There wasn't an ounce of fat or a single hair, and he sported a well defined chest and six pack stomach. What made my eyes bulge was his cock. Mine was no slouch at seven inches, but his was the size of my erect cock soft. He was going to bust her in two!

Despite all the weirdness, the thought of that made my heart race. I felt completely turned on, and was slightly puzzled that I wasn't hard.

We just stayed that way for a while, totally silent, bar the remote sounds of her moving around above us. At one point I knew exactly what she was doing when I felt the play of brushes on my eye lashes, cheeks and lips. I don't know how I felt what was happening to her face, but I did.

It was shortly after that when the sound of tapping came down the hall and stairs. The door opened and my breath caught. It was her, but more than her. She was straight out of my fantasies.

What caught me first was how she was dressed. How I'd always wished she'd dress like this. On top was a loose, red, short silk dress, more of a slip really. Plus, it was almost transparent with strips of mesh and translucent silk running through it.

It was what was visible underneath that really turned me on. My wife was a white cotton M&S girl. She wasn't in that now. Around her chest was a perfect silk and mesh bustier, giving her an impressive cleavage. Around her hips I caught the glimpse of a matching suspender belt holding up gorgeous tights. There was just a hint of tiny knickers under there, and her feet were clad in real fuck me stilettos.

How come I never could get her to dress like this, and this bastard walks in and she sluts right up? She stood there dressed like I'd always dreamed she'd dress, looking nervous and happy and... Glowing.

"Drink!" He called out. She walked by only flashing me the barest grin. It was then my sense of weirdness returned. That chest wasn't my wife's. It was too perfect, too big. There was no possible hint of stuffing, yet those were D cups, possibly bigger and my wife had slightly drooping A cups..

When she bent over to pore him some wine the ass revealed by the raise of her dress confirmed it. I loved my wife's ass, but it was admittedly getting a bit loose with a touch of cellulite. Hell, she'd had two kids. This ass was perfect, unblemished and heart shaped. Framed by those suspenders, split by a thong, it made me want to cry. To get on my knees and worship. Then my heart skipped a beat.

That thong was thin with no gusset. It was skin tight to the most beautiful pussy with absolutely no pubes. Somehow she'd been changed, made into my fantasy woman, but she was going to make out with someone else. It was heartbreaking and a complete turn on at the same time. What scared me is that she seemed completely oblivious to her changes.

"Now, you have one task left before we have fun. Your husband isn't humiliated enough. You're going to cut the cloths off his body, then dress him up as a girly to match that face. Whaddya say?"

She laughed, then walked over to me, "So, should I do what he asked?". She's asked the right question! I violently shook my head, suddenly relieved that we were going to get out of this.

She laughed again, "Too bad, because I'm going to make you into my little bitch so you can sit and watch me get fucked."

She turned and with a skip went and got those huge scissors. It didn't take long before I was nude, and it was an experience I wouldn't want to repeat.

The whisper of cold steel against bare flesh was terrifying. Down on her knees, where I had always wanted her she lifted my still limp dick. The look of disappointment killed me.

"Don't worry babe. He's yours totally. Just tell him to get hard..."

She smiled sadly and said, "Get hard darling.". Suddenly I had the most painfully hard erection. Her look of joy made me whole again.

Her hand reached out for me, "Ah ahh, he's off limits tonight. Dress him up.". She giggled again, I was beginning to hate that.

She came back holding up a black silk corset. I began to get scared again. She grinned and walked around me holding it up to my chest. I shivered as it brushed up against me. Then shivered again as I felt her hands begin to do up the first buckle.

Again it was tight, too tight. I wanted to scream as I felt my flesh shift and move under the harsh silky fabric. It was happening again, my flesh molding to the shape of my constricting prison.

I looked down and screamed with no noise as my chest expanded to fill the large breast cups. My wife just hummed off tune to herself as she went and got a wide suspender belt and did it up tightly around my waist. Again I felt my flesh and bones shifting. It didn't hurt, but God it was disconcerting.

All this was in silence, bar my wife humming a happy tune. Next she knelt at my feet and undoing one cuff, began to roll a stocking up my legs. I could feel my feet and calves shrink and reshape. Also I could tell my hair shriveled and disappeared. The final soft touch of the silky stocking against this new skin was intoxicating.

She redid up the cuff, then did up the next leg. The same weird shit happened, and I couldn't understand why she didn't notice.

When she was standing she accidentally bumped my still raging hardon. It sent a ripple of pleasure up my spine.

She turned to him with a slightly puzzled, slightly disgusted look on her face. "He's still hard. Does this mean he's gay or something?" Her face twisted up, "That would explain a lot."

He burst out laughing hard. "I can assure you, your husband is one hundred percent heterosexual. The mere thought of getting it on with another man makes his stomach turn, doesn't it girlie?". I nodded my head emphatically; glad to be answering a question I wanted to answer. "You just haven't told him to go soft yet. He's actually a very obedient little boy now."

She turned to me looking very uncertain, "all right, go soft." It was like I'd been punched in the stomach, and the air in my lungs woofed out through my nostrils as my cock slackened. I was still incredibly horny. She looked at me with a wicked grin as her hand stroked my softness.

"So, I should've bossed you around a little more hmm?" The grin turned a little disappointed when I didn't respond. Couldn't respond frankly, despite all my inner coercions now, I didn't know the answer to that question.

She went over and picked up a pair of black spiked heels. "He won't fit in these!"

Again that laugh, "they're deceptive. Try them, you'll see.". Sure enough, they fit though I felt my feet bones flow to mould to the new constricting shape. Once they were both on I expected to wobble, especially with my feet spread wide, but once again my body seemed to have changed and I felt perfectly comfortable in the spikes.

Next was something I dreaded, knickers. She held up a tiny piece of black fabric with four ties. As she did them up around my knees it was clear it was a thong pair barely big enough to hold me. I didn't want to know how this would change me.

With another giggle she held my softness between my legs and pulled them up. I could hear myself whimper deep in my throat as the thin silk obscenely cupped me. She pulled the sides up to my hips with a flourish as I felt my flesh change both inside and out. With a certain dread I knew I now looked like she had when she'd bent over to serve him a drink.