My husband’s reaction to what had happened simply shocked me.
‘So what are we going to do about this now?’ My question sounded ridiculous.
I glanced round at everyone present. Of the whole group, I was the only one who looked like a complete fool. I hadn’t looked in the mirror, of course, but I felt like an idiot. I’d naively assumed that if he saw me with another man – whether in a photo or in the flesh – Ivan would be upset and distressed. Instead, I saw something I’d never even imagined before. My husband is a pervert. Yes, he got quite turned on watching me. He might have been a bit upset, but not because I’d been shagging Sasha, but because he’d lost a bet. Only now did I realise how little I knew my husband. And then there’s his almost servile submission to Olga. How dependent is he on her? What’s Olga using to keep him in her grip? It’s like some sort of detective story…
My friend’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
‘Vanya! Come here, my little bunny.’
And ‘little bunny’ obediently shuffled over to Olga.
‘I’ve got another present for you! You’re bound to like it,’ Olga said in a sing-song voice, holding a beautiful glossy box in her hand.
‘What do we have in this little box!?’ my friend continued to show off. ‘Guess what the good fairy has brought for the well-behaved boy Vanya! You’ve been well-behaved, haven’t you? Here, take your present.’
‘Good fairy’ Olga pulled something made of shiny metal out of the pretty wrapping. Looking closer, I saw that it was a small cage.
‘Is he going to keep a finch in there?’ I couldn’t help but react to the absurdity of this trinket. ‘He wouldn’t even fit in there anyway. A hummingbird, perhaps! But we don’t have any of those round here.
‘We’re going to have a different sort of bird living in here!’ Olga laughed. ‘Come here, Lyudka, have a look at this marvel!’
She took a bunch of small keys from the same box and inserted one of them into a small padlock. After removing the padlock, Olga pulled apart the ring, which had looked like a single piece, and said, almost solemnly:
‘I’d like the curious ones to come a bit closer.’
Only I went over. Ivan and Olga’s lads didn’t move.
‘Vanya, don’t just stand there – come closer to me. We can’t do this without you! You’re the star of the show right now!’
Her naked husband looked rather comical. His arousal had already subsided and his cock was now hanging limply. Olga was sitting on a chair, with Ivan standing beside her. My friend snapped the sliding ring shut around Ivan’s scrotum. Earlier, she’d placed her husband’s penis in a cage, which was very small – 7–8 centimetres long – and his penis barely fit inside, filling it completely. She pressed a button or something, and the cage clicked shut. Olga put the padlock back in place.
‘All done!’ “Here are the keys!” announced Madame Fesenko cheerfully. “He won’t be able to take the cage off; his balls won’t fit through the ring. It’s already a tight squeeze for his cock in there. And just imagine what’ll happen if we ‘warm Vanya up’! Oh, I nearly forgot! We ought to put some stockings on the birthday boy – women’s stockings! What do you think, Lyuda?”
— Let him wear them, I don’t mind.
I took some new lace stockings out of my lingerie drawer and tossed them to my husband.
— Get dressed, Mr Cuckold!
…Nikita and I have been ‘warming Vanka up’ for about twenty minutes now. Firstly, my new partner insisted that I take a shower. Secondly, he asked me to get changed. That sounds a bit daft, of course: a naked woman having to get changed. I wasn’t actually completely naked, mind you: I’d got my stockings on, and I was wearing a bra, which I changed. I wear a bra so that my ‘virginal’ breasts don’t sag quite so much. I love the feel of stockings on my legs; it’s really pleasant for me, and men like it too. So I’m all for stockings! I went out of my way, trying my best to look like a porn star. I’d watched quite a few of them recently and was now copying the moments I’d liked and was able to replicate. I particularly liked all the little tricks the ladies of the night used during oral sex. In short, I gave it my all and, as far as I could tell, I was doing quite well. My tongue was already starting to get tired from caressing the head of Nikitos’s cock. I’d polished it to a shine no worse than a Hubble telescope lens. For some reason, Nikita found the activity of my tongue and lips insufficient, and he kept trying to push his cock deeper into my mouth. I didn’t particularly like it, but I put up with it. He was pressing the head of his cock against the back of my throat. This made me cough fitfully, and once I nearly threw up. No, it wasn’t because I was squeamish. Try sticking your fingers deep into your own mouth and you’ll understand everything. Well, all right, if you don’t want fingers, take a small cucumber…
From time to time, I watched my husband’s behaviour. I reckon he’d already ‘warmed up’ quite a bit by then. Ivan kept reaching for the cage in which his ‘fighter’ was imprisoned. Blood was undoubtedly rushing to him in no small measure, and his cock was trying to straighten out and reach the required size. But the walls of the ‘dungeon’ were sturdy and wouldn’t let him stretch out. I don’t know what Vanka was feeling; I’ll ask him later. But I wasn’t the only one interested in the birthday boy’s mood. Olya was watching him more closely than she was watching Nikita and me. And my husband was trying to manipulate his cock, but couldn’t reach his sinful flesh with his hand. That cage! You’re my darling, my beauty! You made my smug, insensitive oaf suffer…
… Nikita, just like Sasha, wanted to shag me in the bum. My bum has certainly become quite the hit today. Well then, Nikitos, go for it! And the lad did try his best. But I tried my best too, sometimes a bit too hard. Wanting to impress my husband even more, I was thrusting too vigorously and too high on my partner. And time and again, his cock would pop out of its ‘cosy little nest’. Each time, I had to search for Nikita’s ‘equipment’ with my hand and guide it back into its ‘burrow’. Olga got fed up with this faff and lost her temper.
‘Ivan! Can’t you see how your wife’s suffering!?’ From now on, you’re responsible for making sure your namesake stays where it’s supposed to be.
‘What namesake?’ asked my clown of a husband.
‘You dimwit! Don’t you know what they call that bit of equipment in your wife’s bum? Vanka-Vstanka! There’s your namesake for you.’ So take your ‘namesake’ in your hand and point it wherever Lyuda asks.
‘Me, take it in my hand?’ my husband stammered, and for some reason looked down at his palms.
Olga interpreted that look in her own way.
‘Lyuda, do you have any gloves? Let him put them on if he doesn’t want to touch it with his bare hands.’
‘Over there, in the linen cupboard, where I keep my stockings…’ I replied.
Olga rummaged about and quickly found a white lace glove. Just one.
‘Put it on. One will do for now. Whatever happens, you can grip the cock with one hand. Although your hand’s like a woman’s—mine’s actually bigger…’ Ivan obediently slipped the glove onto his hand, then, suddenly changing his mind, took it off and put it on his other hand…
‘Come on, page, the queen is waiting for your exploits!’ Olga commanded mockingly
After that, I felt no discomfort trying to feel for the cock that had slipped out of me. Now my ‘page’ was taking care of that. I didn’t count how many times he had to act as a guide for Nikita’s cock; I know it was a lot…
… Olya unlocked the little padlock on Ivan’s cage.
‘You can take that off,’ she said to her husband, pointing at the cage.
Vanya tried to take it off, but he couldn’t manage it.
‘You’re such a klutz—did your hands grow out of the wrong place or something? All you’re good for is playing chess,’ Olya scolded him gently and pushed apart the ring holding his scrotum in place.
‘You can manage the rest yourself. It doesn’t take much brainpower…’
With obvious relief, her husband pulled the tormenting object off his ‘equipment’ and clearly wanted to fling it as far away as possible.
‘Stop! You’ll need it again more than once!’ “You can be sure of that,” Olya commanded. “It’s the most essential thing for cuckolds. Is there any wine left? Let’s have a drink to celebrate the birth of yet another cuckold!”…
P.S. That day, Olya and I never managed to have a private chat. We met the next day in a café. We shared our impressions of the ‘birthday’.
‘Well then, you won your bet with Ivan. That’s a fact. But what are your plans now?’
‘I don’t know, Olya, I haven’t thought about it…’
‘She hasn’t thought about it,’ my friend grumbled. ‘What’s there to think about!? Your husband’s ready. Make the most of him before he comes to his senses!’
‘How do I make the most of him?’ I asked, not quite following.
— Don’t be daft, mate. Your husband’s at a crossroads right now, at a ‘bifurcation point’, as they say these days. You can push him over the edge and turn him into a proper cuckold!
— Cuckold… What a word. Wouldn’t it be simpler to say ‘cheated husband’?
— Oh no, mate! We’ve got cuckolds galore. If a wife cheats on her husband, just add him to the cuckold club! Half the men are like that! Actually, what am I saying,
far more than half! But only a handful become cuckolds. It takes a special kind of character. And yours is exactly that! I’ve noticed it for ages…
— Olya, I’ve been meaning to ask you for ages. How do you keep my Vanya in line? He’s scared of you. What, do you have some kind of dirt on him? He’s not that sort of bird. He’s just a small fry.
— A small fry is a small fry. But every small fry has its own spoon,— Olga tried to make a pun. — I might tell you one day. Not right now, anyway.
By the way, if you decide to make Vanya your third, he might put up a fight if you miss your chance. Just in case, scare him with me.
With that, Olya and I said goodbye, kissing each other on the lips. It’s good to have a friend like that…
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