Chapter 5

On Wednesday morning, Mason called me at work to tell me that the valuation was done and he told me what the buyout figure would be. It sounded fair to me, that is, it was higher than I expected. “My attorney is reviewing the offer letter and we’re planning to deliver it to your attorney tomorrow. What do you think about closing on Monday?”

“Wow, that was quick!” I responded happily. “Sure, I don’t see why not. I’ll tell Andy to expedite it. Assuming he doesn’t find any issues. I’ll see if he can get it vetted by Friday.” I was enjoying speaking with him; it had been three days since I’d seen him. “Listen, can I see you?” I hoped I didn’t sound too needy.

“Not today, buddy,” Mason said. “I have a heavy lunch date.” His voice was rich with irony. “And my schedule id packed this afternoon. I might have a half an hour tomorrow morning. Why don’t you call Mona and ask her to fit you in for me. She knows who you are.”

My appointment to see Mason was at 10:30 Thursday morning. I arrived about ten minutes early and had a chance to chat with Mona, whom I’d spoken with a couple of times already, but had never seen. She turned out to be a petite dark-skinned African-American woman of indeterminate age. By her voice I had expected someone a lot younger and whiter. Articulate and professional, she was clearly much more than a receptionist; she seemed to know everything about Mason’s business including the proposed terms of our upcoming merger.

Just as she was asking about Anna’s background and interest in low-cost housing, Mason came out if his office to greet me...

“It was nice talking with you, Mona,” I said as I got up.

“Thank you, Mr. Hausmann,” she smiled. “I’m sure we’ll speak again.”

“I look forward to it,” I said, genuinely.

Mason ushered me into his office saying, “You got a chance to chat with Mona, then?”

“Yes. Very impressive! Where did you find her?”

“She is, isn’t she? Believe it or not, she came from a temp agency when I was just getting the business off the ground 20 years ago. Couldn’t believe my luck! She was a single mom raising two boys. We helped her finish college - BBA with a minor in math. She’s been a huge part of our success.”

Mason gestured toward a chair. “So, how are you getting along?” He looked impressive in his suit and tie; I hadn’t seen him in full regalia since the party almost two weeks before. I took in the atmosphere of his executive office: nothing fancy, but warm and comfortable as well as functional. It was devoid of ostentation, but looked authoritative, much like its occupant. “The buck stops here” was the feeling it gave.

“Oh, I’m doing okay, thanks,” I said, intentionally ignoring the subject of Anna. “As well as can be expected,” I added despite my resolution.

Mason smiled consolingly and said, “You’ll have Anna back soon. Just a couple more days.” He picked up a folder on his desk. “The letter was delivered to Anderson’s office this morning. I’ve got a copy here if you want to ... Is that what you wanted to see me about?”

“No, not really, but that’s great,” I replied. “I’ll let Andy handle it. No, I was just feeling a bit ... well, I miss Anna.” I blushed slightly and looked up from the folder to his face. “And you, I guess...” I let my voice trail off.

“Oh,” Mason said, getting up from his desk and coming around to my side of it. “Anna’s doing fine, and you’ll see her soon. We were thinking of having you over for dinner on Friday night and then you can take her home.” He perched himself on the edge of his desk, right in front of me. “You missed me too?” he asked more softly.

I had been looking at his well tailored crotch, I realized, and I looked back up to his face. “Yes.” I said flatly. “You too.”

“I’m flattered, Jack.” He sounded sincere. “Tell me. How much did you like getting fucked by me?”

“I liked it a lot. It was incredible,” I enthused, “especially last time.”

“I fucked you like a girl, didn’t I? Did it make you feel like a girl?”

“No, it made me feel like a whore, though,” I said, thinking it through, hoping to convey some sense of what I had experienced. “It felt like you owned me. Like my feelings didn’t matter. Like I was nothing but a cunt to you.”

“And you liked that?”

“Yes,” I said, looking him straight in the eye and blushing, my caged cock throbbing painfully, “I liked it a lot.”

“That’s amazing!” Mason stood up and reached out and tousled my hair. “But I do care about your feelings, Jack.” And then he grinned his devious grin. “Especially if your feelings include liking to be my whore and my cunt!” He chuckled at that.

“You made me cum.” I said softly, longingly, as if by way of explanation.

“And I’ll do it again soon, I promise, Jack,” he said, “But not today. Not while Anna’s fertile.” He looked at me sympathetically.

“I understand,” I said. “Thanks for seeing me anyway.”

“You sound a little pathetic,” he said. “How about you get down on your knees for me?” As in previous occasions, the question held too much authority to sound like a question at all.

I complied, feeling, as I always did, that he knew exactly what I needed. I knelt before him, head bowed. I looked at his polished brogues. I could feel the warmth of his body on my face. He placed his hand on top of my head.

“Do you want to be my whore?” he asked gently.

“Yes, sir,” I answered softly.

“For always?”

“Yes, sir,” I repeated, my heart filling with joy.

“And my cunt?”

My heart fluttered. I loved that he was using my own words against me. “Yes, please, sir.”

“Open my pants, Cunt,” he said with a tenderness that made the crude insult sound like a term of endearment.

I was as diligently compliant as I knew how to be. His belt, the button in front of his trousers, the zipper ... all undone.

“Kiss it.”

I brought my lips to the bulge in his boxers, absorbing the scent of his cock and balls. I kissed and breathed in deeply. I was deliriously happy.

“Good boy,” he said, rewarding me with words he seemed to know I treasured.

He grasped the waist of his pants with both hands and, turning around, lowered them and bent forward toward the desk, exposing his firm, muscular ass.

“Do you want to kiss my ass?” he asked as if there were more than one possible answer.

“Yes, please, sir,” was my grateful response.

“Go ahead,” Mason pronounced, a gracious boon to his unworthy servant.

I immediately kissed the center of his crack, breathing in his anal aroma and pulsing painfully in my cage. I fervently showered kisses all over both of his manly globes before going back to the center and, using my hands to spread his cheeks, I burrowed my face between them and kissed his most private spot. My lips felt the tight pucker and my tongue came out to play with it, moistening his anal ring with the saliva that his mouth-watering scent had elicited. I kissed the brown hole, sucking at it and licking it slavishly, pressing at its center, hoping to open it a little so I could taste his insides, french-kissing his poop-hole as if it were a lover’s lips. The pain of my throbbing, thwarted cock confirmed my submissive sycophancy. He wasn’t even my boss yet and I was already kissing his ass!

“Nice, Jackie,” I heard from above, “You’re a good little ass-licker.”

He straightened up, removing his ass from my face, pulled up his pants and turned around. “You seem so eager! “ He fastened his pants, standing in front of me, still on my knees. “Seems like chastity is making you even more submissive. I’m curious; tell me: what do you get out of it?”

I looked up into his face from my subservient kneeling posture. “I just want to please you ... I want to make you feel good. It’s the idea that I’m giving you pleasure.”

“You were like making fucking love to my asshole!” he said with amazement.

“Hmmm, well, it’s just so intimate. I mean, it’s not like sucking your cock; that’s better - making you cum is ... well, that’s what I really like.” I tried to sort it out; this was all so new: new feelings, new desires. “But I guess it’s the intimacy - your asshole is so personal and private - and the humility - it’s so degrading. It’s like I want to be degraded. By you, I mean ... to be your ass-licker, it’s like being a slave. It should be humiliating, but it makes me ... it’s what I want.”

“You continue to amaze, me, Jack.” Mason grinned and ruffled my hair again. It felt just like being his faithful dog.

A lot happened the next couple of days, including a call from my lawyer approving the deal with Mason’s company, but nothing else that really pertains to this story. Until Friday night.

I arrived at Mason’s at 7:00, as directed, and the three of us had a great meal together. Mason and Anna were in terry-cloth bathrobes, nothing else, and he kept touching her in a very proprietary way the whole time, fondling a breasts or squeezing her thigh. Every time he touched her, she smiled beatifically, sometimes closing her eyes, or gazing at him. I watched it, the playful intimacy of love, and felt strangely happy and excited, an anticipatory kind of elation at the thought of their impending coupling. I really wanted to see them joined in the act of copulation; there was a purity in their passion and I wanted to bless it. Could I be a part o it? I wondered. I wanted to, but not if it would distract from the perfection of their mating. I don’t think I ate very much; I was too engrossed in their romance.

Mason stood when we had finished dessert and, taking Anna’s hand as if she needed help to rise her from her chair, said, “Please clear the table, Jack. You can leave everything on the kitchen counter. Then get undressed and join us in the bedroom.”

I hurriedly complied and entered the bedroom to find them seated naked, side by side on the bed.

“Come. Kneel.” Mason pointed to a spot on the rug in front of them.

I knelt, my knees between Mason’s and Anna’s feet. I didn’t want to chose which of them to look at, so I bowed my head and looked down. It felt right to portray obedience and humility. I looked at their feet, his big, hairy-knuckled toes and her dainty elegance.

“See?” Mason said to Anna, “I think chastity is making him even more submissive. I think it’s cute. Kind of pathetic, but I like it.”

“I do too,” Anna said. Then to me she said, “Do you like having your little dickie locked up?”

I looked up at her, my beautiful wife, resplendent in her nakedness. “I don’t know, Anna. I do it for you; that’s what you want, right? If it makes you happy, then it makes me happy.” I thought how pathetic I must look in this position. My eyes welled with tears. “Except, I also want to have sex with you.” I added.

She looked down on me with a certain amount of sympathy. “I know you do, sweetie. But it’s not gonna happen. Not ever. That part of our life is over. But it turns me on to know that you want me so desperately and you’re never going to have me.”

“Never?” I asked, and immediately regretted saying it aloud.

“Never, as far as I can see, anyway. How could I settle for you after a week of Mason? I mean, he’s so much better than you!”

Her words were devastating. They sounded so decisively final.

“Don’t look like that, Jack. You’re the one who said it first. You told me he was the better man. You told me I deserved more than you could offer. You gave me to him. What did you expect would happen?”

I hung my head again. “I don’t know ... It just sounds so final. I thought...” I left it unsaid.

“Don’t worry, dear, you can still eat my pussy when I feel like letting you. And you’ll get some relief from time to time. Like how about now?” Addressing Mason, she said, “Can you unlock him?”

Mason told me to stand and, taking his key, he unlocked my cage and slipped it off. The sensation was amazing; my cock swelled immediately.

“As I said, you will be given relief from time to time,” Anna explained, “and this is one of those times. Now, masturbate for us,” she commanded.

Her tone was so imperious; it was thrilling. My cock sprang to full extension for the first time in over a week. It pulsed with insistent vigor. I grasped the hard shaft in my right hand and, looking into Anna’s eyes, I stroked it up and down. It felt incredible.

“That’s it. Stroke it for me,” Anna said approvingly. “You want sex with me? Well, this is it. You can even cum for me.” She watched intently as I stroked it up and down. “I want you to cum,” she commanded, “Now!”

I felt my legs quake. My balls contracted. My cock swelled to the point of bursting. And I felt the surge begin deep in my balls.

“Catch it!” Anna directed. “Catch all of it! Don’t spill a drop!”

My first spurt would have hit the ceiling, I’m sure, but I managed to cap the geyser with my left hand just in time. I shuddered all over ecstatically as my cock pulsed again and again and I angled it forward, pushing it down so that it pumped all my pent up seminal fluid, thick and white, into my cupped hand. As if powered by a source outside myself, the organ kept pumping until my hand was filled to almost overflowing. I felt lightheaded, almost dizzy.

“Eat it. Eat it all up, fag boy.” I heard Anna’s voice from afar through a haze of orgasmic bliss.

“Mmmmm,” I couldn’t help but moan as my tongue scooped up globs of my viscous spend into my mouth. It tasted like passion; it felt like a gift. I squeezed my cock, adding a final dab to the puddle of cum in my hand. I put my lips to it, slurped it all up, and licked my hand clean. “Mmmmmm.” I looked up at Anna. “Thank you,” I said quietly.

“You’re welcome, fag boy,” she said sweetly, repeating the appellation. I didn’t mind; I knew exactly what she meant. She had emasculated me. She wasn’t saying I was gay; she was just reminding me that I was no longer a man in her eyes. How fitting: it was true. I didn’t mind; sensing that she was pleased with my performance, I was happy and proud.

Mason gave her shoulder a squeeze and said, “Do you want him to do anything else before we fuck? I mean, he’s putty in your hands.”

“Yes,” she said with pleasure. Turning to me, she said, “I understand you’re an ass-licker now too.” She stood up and turned her backside toward me. “Lick it, fag boy!”

I leaned in to taste her, dazzled by the pale beauty of her pearly-white buttocks.

“Wait!” Anna ordered. “Not yet. Mason, would you lock him back up first?”

“Sure. Stand up, Jackie.”

My cock was still a bit swollen, so there was more than a little discomfort in the way Mason had to stuff it back into the tight metal cage. He didn’t say a word. When I winced, he gave my balls a swift slap that immediately put things in proportion, literally as well as figuratively.

“Back on your knees, ass-slave,” my verbally creative wife commanded. I eagerly obeyed.

She stepped between me and Mason, who was still seated on the bed, she spread her legs, leaned forward, and placed her hands on Mason’s shoulders. She kissed him on the mouth as I leaned in and kissed her at her other end, spreading her glorious orbs to reach her pretty puckered private opening.

I was overcome with lustful humility as my servile lips and tongue tasted her. I could smell her well fucked pussy, redolent with the sexual secretions of both of the lovers as I tasted her sweat and her rectal flesh. There was as much of Mason as of Anna in my mind as I kissed, as we both kissed the two ends of my beloved’s GI tract. How fitting that I should be at the back, the bottom end! I dug into her sweet anus with my tongue. This was different from Mason’s; it was softer, less hairy and there was with it the omnipresent gynecological scent of womanhood. Plus, this was my wife: so much less degrading to pleasure her. Except, she was kissing him as I serviced her. And she was going to fuck him, not me. And he was there, present in this act, at the other end of my kisses.