There was a great deal of disappointment in Jenny’s voice, “I understand. Martha is a lucky woman, Oliver.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I wish you the best.”
She walked him out. It was some time before she walked into the exercise room and released her husband.
Richard could not help but observe that her breasts were literally covered in suction induced bruising…hickies. His manhood throbbed imagining how they got there.
She spoke flatly. “Go to the bathroom if you need to. Oliver insisted on making you a plate… its in the microwave. Please clean up the kitchen before you come to bed. I am completely fucked-out and exhausted, so I am gonna go lay down.”
As he ate bacon, eggs and fried potatoes, Richard had to think about what a good cook Oliver was, apparently.
By the time he made it to their bed, he was also exhausted. The bed was a disaster, the sheets all askance, and the only spot which was not wet, Jenny occupied. He thought about the couch. But did not want Jenny to think he was angry when she awoke. Besides, he really wanted to be close to her.
So, he crawled into bed, maneuvered the penis extension behind her, and spooned her, feeling the cold of her and Oliver’s fluids against his side. What was one more humiliation?
It was three more weeks before Jennifer was “in the mood” to accept another date. And after dinner and dancing, she found she was not at all attracted to the male employee her husband had cuckolded. She told Mortimer she was sorry. As a consolation, she used Richard’s credit card to buy Mortimer a new gaming console. He was happy. Richard not so much. A gaming console did not equate to a notch.
When she came home alone, Richard could not quite comprehend his conflicted emotions. He had been turgid all evening in anticipation of witnessing her sex acts, and gaining another notch on her belt. At the same time, he was happy she would not be fucking someone else.
The next week was different. Lamont was hung like a horse and was virtually unstoppable with enthusiasm and staying power. The date started on a Friday evening, and Jennifer eventually decided to release Richard from his restraints, letting him roam free. There was just no way for her to take care of him and be fucked multiple times in every room of the house; on the patio by the pool, in the pool, during lunch, several times in the middle of the night for three days.
Richard found himself cooking for them all, doing repeated loads of cum-stained laundry, serving drinks, and dropping to his knees to clean his wife on demand.
How could anyone have that kind of stamina??
Jennifer was very happy, although she did not walk straight for a week.
He asked, humorously, “Shouldn’t that be worth three notches?”
Her eyes sparkled, “Probably six… but it is only one, cucky-poo.”
Two weeks later Richard found himself serving again as Jennifer decided to “fuck” the lesbian couple he had cuckolded. Three women lounging around, using him for everything but sex. He did not even get to perform cunnilingus; there was no semen to clean, and they took care of each other’s oral needs. He was almost apoplectic with need.
He lay next to Jennifer Sunday night after they had left. “So, does that count as two notches?”
She teased, “Two? There were no penises involved, so I don’t think it is any. Maybe I could be generous, and we could call it a two-for-one deal for them, so you get one notch?”
In the end she let him off the hook and told him to add two notches to her belt.
Still, comparing the belts, he wanted to cry. It was going to be years. Jennifer’s libido, or “whore factor” just did not compare to his inability to resist pussy.
That Monday morning he was providing Katrina with her “morning coffee cum” when Jenny walked in.
“So, who is the lucky winner of my hubby’s mouth this week?”
With said hubby’s mouth still attached to her moist genitals under her desk, Katrina pulled a random business card out of the box on her desk. “Ashley Ashley Johansson.”
Richard’s head hit the bottom of the desk, hard. Jennifer heard him cursing. “I told you this would happen, damnit!”
Jennifer was confused. “What’s wrong with Ashley? Sounds like a pretty name.”
Katrina was laughing and shaking her head as she pulled Richard’s head back to his task between her thighs.
“Ashley is a guy, Jen.”
“Oh! Oh, shit!”
About the time Kat finished and let him up from under her desk, her phone rang. She put it on speaker, as it was David, who was laughing. “Ashley is here outside of Dicky’s office, wanting to claim his prize.”
Richard muttered another stream of expletives.
Jenny, fists resting on her hips, “Are you saying you cannot, or will not, honor your commitment?”
His head lowered, “No. No, ma’am. But… but I don’t know what to do. I know how to eat pussy, but not suck a dick.”
Katrina snickered, “I seem to remember you giving me guidance. You know what YOU like… just do what I did for you all those times.”
Jennifer addressed the speaker phone, “Good. David, tell Ashley my hubby will be along shortly. And would you be a dear? Call Doreen and tell her to bring her whip and belt to your office also. She has been itching to try them out on Dicky’s ass; and she can ensure full and enthusiastic service for Ashley.”
Within a few minutes Richard was laying across his desk, his butt up in the air. He had a (fortunately) average size cock in his mouth while a very happy Doreen lashed his ass with her whip… then her belt… then her whip.
There were, of course, consequences when the story got out, which it did quickly. Many people heard the gagging, slurping, the crack of the whip and the cries of pain.
The first consequence was that Gretchen soon heard of the development and began cackling maniacally. She tracked Ashley down that afternoon and have him a small bottle of blue pills…” You should take one of every morning this week.”
So it was that the slightest breeze or erotic sight or thought resulted in an almost painful erection for Ashley that week. Gretchen made sure to go by Ashley’s office frequently, flashing her tits, licking her lips, whispering erotic stories to him.
One difference between men and women; guys are taught never, ever waste a hard-on. So every time Ashley got an erection, he was tracking down the boss. By Wednesday he asked David if he could just follow them around “to observe.”
The other consequence was once it got out that not only were guys permitted in the lottery, but that according to Ashley the boss was an excellent cocksucker who swallowed (his wife insisted), dozens of men were dropping their cards in the box. Gay or straight… a blow job is a blow job.
The good thing that happened, which Richard never knew about, was that Katrina did care about him. She clandestinely became somewhat more selective in drawing the business cards. Richard only “drew” one more male, while Katrina was on vacation. Unfortunately… that was Lamont with the horse cock, and Gretchen got hold of him too.
Within a couple more months articles appeared in trendy magazines about the “Dick Locke Look.”
One magazine had on it’s cover an artist’s rendition of a bulging button-up denim fly, with a shiny brass padlock hanging from a post protruding through a button hole.
It seemed Jennifer had started something.
After a year a major television news magazine show did a lengthy segment on the Dick Locke Look Phenomenon. They interviewed Jennifer, who mostly played coy. They did not even inquire about interviewing Richard. They interviewed a couple in which the male had cheated, so the wife locked him up. They interviewed a wife who locked her husband up just because.
They had a video segment on a young couple’s wedding. She in a beautiful white dress, him in blue jeans and a dress shirt with tie. The couple said their vows. He placed a ring on her finger; she placed a ring on his. She placed a padlock on the post protruding from his jeans’ fly with a ‘snick.” He placed a necklace bearing the key around her neck. They kissed and the wedding party applauded.
Jennifer and Richard were sitting on the couch, cuddled together watching the episode. They were amazed. They were used to being in the spotlight, but had never expected their chastity adventure to take off quite the way it did. Had they realized it could become public, and embarrassingly? Yes. But they never expected it to be a positive influence on society which was embraced so whole-heartedly.
Richard spoke, really just voicing his thoughts out loud, with no expectations of a response.
“That wedding was really inspiring. I wish I were a better man, like Oliver. I want to be committed to you the way he is with Martha. This whole public chastity thing could actually be good for every one. I am glad you did it to me.”
She fondled the “at home” device he wore, the only thing he wore. His penis grew and forced itself onto the sound, inducing a groan.
“Even though you have not had an orgasm in a year? Little Dicky here seems pretty frustrated.”
He reflexively pushed upwards towards her hand, knowing it would provide no relief.
“Yes, even with that. I desperately want to cum, don’t get me wrong. You know that from my frequent begging. But I am still glad you locked me up. I think we are closer since you know I am faithful, don’t you?”
She thought for a moment. “I suppose so.”
For the next month, Jennifer thought a great deal about the issue. And about promises and commitments. About what SHE wanted.
Having thought things through, she arranged a Saturday dinner date at home between herself, Richard, Katrina and David. She had Maria buy the steaks, corn on the cob and other goodies for Richard to grill on the patio.
Richard had to be careful not to flop “his meat” onto the grill with their dinner.
He received compliments on his grilling skills as they sat around a table on the patio after dinner enjoying mixed drinks.
Finally Jennifer decided to broach the subject she had invited everyone to discuss or witness.
“Richard, I have something want to discuss with you.”
Okay. She rarely called him Richard anymore. Dick. Dicky. Cucky. What was up?
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