Chivalry is on Life Support Ch. 12

Literotic asexstories – Chivalry is on Life Support Ch. 12 by ChivalrousCuck,ChivalrousCuck
My studies under Luke’s tutelage began in earnest the next evening during and after dinner. I’m sorry to report that he proved to be an excellent, possibly even world class instructor. If there was a graduate program in cuckold humiliation studies, Luke would’ve been a distinguished professor with an endowed chair. To be fair, I suppose such a program would require at least three faculty members: the bull, who dishes out the humiliation; the cuckoldess who may or may not assist the bull in humiliating the cuckold, but who herself might also be a target of humiliation at times; and the hapless cuckold who is the primary recipient of it. So, to be more accurate, the three of us would have been an all-star academic team in my imagined scenario. This turned out to be not too far removed from the reality of what unfolded, but more on that later.

Brooke coached me on preparing dinner for Luke. She wanted him to feel welcome in our home and wanted to set the right tone with my respect to my subservient status in the relationship. Luke played football in an amateur league (he was a linebacker, a position requiring both speed and strength) and also lifted weights, so he favored lean proteins. I prepared grilled walleye in a lemon, butter sauce with steamed asparagus and roasted potatoes. I also had his favorite beer on hand, Yuengling. I purchased a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc for Brooke and me, as neither of us were big beer drinkers.

At Brooke’s insistence, I wore a tight, white button down shirt with a black bow tie and tight black pants with the black apron that her friend Michelle had given me tied behind my neck. I generally favored loose clothes because I was highly self conscious about my paunch — and hated the restrictive feeling of tight clothes, which made me feel fat — but Brooke said that baggy clothes did me no favors. I think this was all part of her game: to accentuate my physical shortcomings in front of her ripped ex husband. She also wanted me barefoot.

When Luke arrived, Brooke brought him into the kitchen. He was dressed in tight jeans, a form fitting, button down blue shirt and brown leather cowboy boots. Brooke was wearing a short green dress with open toed, heeled sandals, her long bare legs and pretty toes on full display. The contrast in how we were all dressed made me feel like a submissive waiter to this beautiful, alpha couple — which is more or less what I was, I suppose. Thinking back on how I’ve been forced to dress over the intervening three years, however, my attire that evening was downright dignified.

“Hello, sir. May I get you a beer?”

“Sure, prof.” Pleased that I served him his favorite brand, he said, “I see she’s got you barefoot and working in the kitchen. You’re not pregnant too, are you?” He rubbed my paunch with his hand, smiling and chuckling. I really hated it when someone touched my stomach.

Brooke giggled at his joke.

“We’re going to have to put you on a diet, prof.”

“Walter doesn’t exercise much.”

“We can work on that too,” Luke said before the two of them went into the living room to sit down and have a drink as I finished cooking dinner. I found Brooke straddling his lap and kissing him passionately when I went to ask them to please be seated at the table.

“Shouldn’t a good host seat his guest?,” asked Luke.

“Yes, sir, of course.” I pulled out the chair at the head of the dining room table for him to sit down.

Brooke said, “What about me, Walter?”

“Of, course, darling.” I then pulled out Brooke’s chair, before sitting down myself.

“I’m not sure I like him calling you darling when I’m here. When I’m in this house, you’re mine,” Luke said to Brooke.

She replied, “What would be a more appropriate way for him to address me when you’re around? I know, how about ‘Miss Brooke’?” She smiled brightly at me.

Luke said, “That works for me, at least until we can think of something better.”

“Yes, sir and Miss Brooke. I will be right back with your plates.”

Although I prepared and served the dinner and cleaned up afterwards, I was at least permitted to eat at the table with them that first night.

“This fish isn’t half bad,” Luke sad, looking at me.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I told you Walter’s a good cook.”

“Do you fish, prof?”

“I did when I was a kid with my brother and my dad, but I haven’t in years, sir.”

“Where was that?”

“In Connecticut, on the Long Island Sound, sir. We lived near the water and had a small boat.”

“Walter’s father was a big time M&A attorney in New York City. Walter had a pretty privileged upbringing. A family maid. Boarding school. Yale University,” said Brooke.

“M&A attorney, huh. Those are the pricks I have to pay huge fees to whenever I buy a business.”

I learned over dinner that Luke had started a residential plumbing business shortly after graduating from high school. It grew rapidly, becoming the biggest in the county by the time he was 25. Over the last three years he had acquired three single branch competitors, buying out older plumbers who were starting to think about retirement. He typically got good prices for these companies because his business was hurting them in the market. Luke’s company had grown to five branches in two counties with almost $30 million in sales. He planned to grow it to $50 million and then sell it to a private equity investor. His goal was to be a multi millionaire before he turned 35.

Luke continued, “God damn lawyers are parasites. They don’t make or fix anything, they just take money from the hard working people that do. The whole damned system is rigged.”

Great, an aggrieved conspiracy theorist, I thought to myself.

“My dad lost most of his money when he was older due to poor investments,” I volunteered, hoping to dispel the image of privilege I could see forming in Luke’s mind.

“Sounds like karma to me,” he said. “How long did you live in Connecticut?”

Brooke answered for me. “Walter lived his whole life in Connecticut before moving here to take his position on the college faculty. He tried hard to find a position with a good East Coast college, but wasn’t able to.”

“It’s pretty competitive out there in academia,” I added, sheepishly.

“So, you had to settle for a position in one of the flyover states. Nice of you to grace us with your presence, professor.”

“Not at all. I mean, I had never been to Ohio before coming out here for my job, but I really like it. It’s a beautiful state.” I added, lamely, “Sir.”

“I’ll bet.” He looked at me somewhat contemptuously, I thought, before he added, “Get me another beer and your wife needs a refill on her wine.”

“Yes, sir.”

After getting them their drinks, I served the dessert I had prepared. I had baked a peach pie and served it with vanilla ice cream. After putting everyone’s plate down and picking up my fork, Luke said, “Hold on there, prof. Remember what I said earlier tonight about you going on a diet? Well, there’s no time like the present to start.”

Brooke added, again with her mischievous smile, “That’s a great idea, Luke. It’s going to be good to have someone to instill some discipline around here, right Walter?”

I was furious, but knew how disastrous it would be to raise any objection. It wasn’t so much that I was looking forward to satisfying my sweet tooth. It was really the incredible humiliation I felt at being treated like a child by this overbearing brute. And, of course, Brooke’s complicity in my humiliation. She was clearly enjoying it all way too much.

My face was burning in shame, as I replied, “Yes, Miss Brooke. That’s a good idea, sir. I need to watch my calories. Here, let me split up my piece for the two of you to enjoy.”

As he finished off the pie, Luke said, “That was delicious, prof. You’re quite the little homemaker, aren’t you?”

“Or big homemaker,” said Brooke, tittering.

“Good one, babe,” said Luke.

As I was about to finish off the bottle of wine by emptying it into Brooke’s and my glasses, Luke said. “You know, prof, liquor has a lot of calories. It’s probably a good idea that we watch your wine intake as well. Empty your glass into Brooke’s?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, as I followed his command.

Brooke said, “Now I’m really gonna get tipsy,” and giggled.

After dinner, Luke said, “Now it’s time to unpack my suitcases. Why don’t you both show me the bedroom?”

And, so, Luke’s hostile takeover — hostile to me, at least — continued.