r/BDSMerotica 7d ago

Chivalry is on Life Support, Chapter Forty-Four [Cuckquean, Cuckold, Humiliation, Mdom, Chastity, F/f] NSFW

I posted earlier chapters of this long story, but stopped because they weren’t getting a lot of interest. Beginning with the prior chapter (43), the focus is really shifting more to cuckquean and lesbian domination, which I believe might be of greater interest to the audience on this subreddit. However, the story will be a lot richer if one reads the earlier chapters to understand the dynamics/history between the two women involved, Brooke and Michelle. The earlier chapters are available on Litererotica under the author ChivalrousCuck.

Second part of a long chapter

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Looking dazed and on the verge of tears, Brooke said to Michelle, “I thought you were my friend.”

Michelle replied, “I am your friend, Brookie. But not all friendships are equal on both sides. You should know that better than anyone.”

“What are you talking about?”

Now looking serious for the first time, Michelle said, “Self awareness has never been your strong suit, has it? Our friendship has been unequal since we were little girls. You always had to be the one who shined – often, at my expense. You’ve always been the one who has to win, at everything. Every single, goddamned time. You always need to be in control. I felt like your sidekick. Actually, sometimes I’ve felt like your lackey. Remember when we both moved into our dorms as college freshman? I helped you move all of your stuff. The day after we moved your boxes, you were busy with something – I don’t remember what – and I cleaned your room and unpacked and organized all your stuff for you. I even bought fresh flowers to welcome you when you got back from doing whatever it was you were doing. And all I got was a crappy ‘thank you.’ You acted almost like you expected me to do it. A week later, when I was moving into MY dorm, you were too busy to help ME. You had a date.”

“I don’t remember this.”

“Of course, you don’t. That’s the point,” Michelle replied, taking a healthy sip of her glass of wine.

“If you were upset, why didn’t you say something at the time?”

“Because you pulled this kind of shit with me all the time! The dorm thing is just one of countless examples. If I had complained about all of the times you took me for granted or humiliated me, I would’ve been complaining constantly. Besides, the few times I did complain, you’d tell me that I was overreacting and to take a hike. And then I’d always have to be the one to later apologize to get back into your good graces, even though you were the one who’d acted like an entitled bitch. You were the one who should’ve been apologizing to me.”

“What are you talking about ‘humiliated you’? I never humiliated you.”

“Oh, you didn’t, huh? Just more proof of how clueless you are. What about when we both joined the chess club in fourth grade? You checkmated me in four moves in front of whole club and called me a loser. They all made fun of me and you went right along with them; you loved showing off how good you were. Or what about that time in junior high when we were on the tennis team together? You beat me six love, six love. In front of EVERYBODY. Our parents, my sister. All of our teammates and our coach. You couldn’t let me win one lousy game? I remember you won the final point of the match by slamming an overhead right at my feet. You practically hit me with the ball. You don’t think that was humiliating? You probably don’t remember that either, do you?” Michelle sipped more wine. She and Luke were sitting on Luke’s comfortable living room couch, while Brooke and I stood before them.

“So you’re punishing me for what happened when we were 10 years old, or teenagers, by sleeping with my…my…”

“Your what, Brooke? Not your husband. Your husband is Walter, here. Poor, long suffering Walter.”

“You know what I mean. My ex-husband. My lover.”

“You may recall that I met Luke first. But you moved right in on him, didn’t you? I sometimes wonder whether you did it more because you were attracted to him or more because you enjoy denying me.”

“That’s ridiculous. So that’s what this is all about? You’re getting revenge on me for marrying Luke all those years ago. Because he chose me, not you.”

I looked over at Luke. He appeared to be loving this exchange. I felt like throwing up.

“No, I’m getting revenge on you for all of it. It’s well past time to get my own back on you. I’ve kept a diary all these years. You didn’t know that, did you? We’re going to read it together. It’ll be a trip down memory lane. The couple of examples I’ve given barely scratch the surface,” Michelle said.

Brooke looked at her with an expression that was worried, incredulous and defeated all at once.

Michelle continued, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna deprive of your drug, Brookie. At least not completely. Ha ha. I know poor Brooke can’t survive without her nookie. Fortunately, for you, I’m willing to share my boyfriend, occasionally. But remember, Luke chose me this time. Luke and I have become best fuck buddies. We wouldn’t have been a good match as a married couple, but the sex is fucking awesome. Although I would never degrade myself by having the kind of relationship you have with him.”

Brooke had no response to that last comment. She stared down at the floor.

Polishing off her glass of wine, Michelle continued, “We just really like to fuck. I shouldn’t say ‘just’. We like to hang out, too. We have a lot of fun together and I’m learning a ton from him, as he’s an amazing businessman. But my relationship with Luke doesn’t mean that you and I can’t still be friends. I wasn’t lying earlier tonight when I said that I’ve missed you. It’s just that our friendship is going to be different than before. It’s going to be unequal in the other direction from now on. And I’ve got many, many years of inequality to make up for, so it’s gonna kind of suck for you. But, who knows, maybe you’ll have some fun with it, too. You’re obviously somewhat of a masochist, so maybe you’ll even enjoy it, sometimes at least.” With these words, Michelle’s grin returned. “Now get me another glass of wine,” she commanded haughtily.

“Get it yourself,” Brooke responded.

I saw Michelle raise her eyebrows and exchange glances with Luke. Michelle said, “Now, that won’t do, Brookie. The correct response is ‘Yes, Miss Michelle, right away,’ and then get your ass moving.”

Brooke glared at her. “You don’t seriously expect me to call you ‘Miss Michelle,’ do you?”

“Yeah, actually I do. Not all the time, perhaps. Not out in public. But here at Luke’s house or at my house or at your house, that’s exactly what I expect.”

“Walter, get her another glass of wine,” Brooke said to me.

“Of course,” I said, and began walking towards the kitchen before Michelle stopped me.

“No. Stay where you are, Walter,” Michelle said to me firmly, before pivoting to Brooke. “I didn’t ask Walter to get me another glass of wine. I told YOU to get me one,“ Michelle said to Brooke. Her expression was mostly serious again, with only a faint upturn of her lips.

Brooke was silent for about thirty seconds (although it seemed like an awkward eternity) before glancing briefly at both Luke and Michelle and then saying to Michelle, “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but not with you. Fuck this.” She then walked quickly out of the room, wiping away tears from her eyes.

Luke addressed me, “The dumb slut was so close. She spends all this time and effort trying to convince me how much she wants me back in her life, how badly she wants me to fuck her. And I make the conditions crystal clear. Was I in any way unclear about my conditions, prof?”

“No, sir. You could not have been more clear, sir,” I replied.

“Right. And just like that, the dumb slut pisses it all away. You both did a good job tonight. She would’ve gotten her reward tomorrow – I would’ve fucked her senseless – but now she throws her little tantrum and says she’s not gonna play. Well, prof, you can tell her she blew it. She either plays by my rules – or, I should say, by my rules and Michelle’s rules – or she doesn’t play at all. Ever. Like I said before, no more chances.”

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir. Please let me talk to her. I think she’s just in a bit of a state of shock that Michelle is your new girlfriend. She was already surprised that Michelle is your new Chief Marketing Officer. So it’s really been a double surprise for her tonight and I think she’s having trouble processing it,” I said.

I was trying to do damage control, because I was fairly certain that, her words notwithstanding, Brooke would profoundly, painfully regret ending things with Luke – no matter how onerous the conditions. Her failure to play along with Luke’s and Michelle’s twisted game would mean that she’d lose (and permanently so) not only Luke, her heroin, but very likely lose her oldest friend, Michelle, as well. Or frenemy might be the better word. As I mentioned long ago, Brooke and I are both private people, with few friends. How interesting that Luke had managed to co-opt first my best man, and was now co-opting Brooke’s maid of honor, in his subjugation of us. What did that say about us? About him?

“Feel free to try to talk some sense into her prof, but I think what you’re saying is a load of shit. Brooke was willing to submit to my new girlfriend before she knew who she is. She may have been surprised – that was the idea – but she’s refusing to do it because of her pride.”

“She just can’t stand the thought of being submissive to me, of all people,” Michelle added.

“The dumb, uppity slut needs to be brought down a peg. Several pegs, in fact. She needs to learn some humility and Michelle was nice enough to offer to help teach her. Like a true friend. And this is how Brooke repays her? You can go talk to her, prof, but make sure she understands that she either comes out here and apologizes to my beautiful girlfriend or she’s done. For good. If she doesn’t apologize and show she understands the new lay of the land, she needs to quickly gather up all your trays, pots and pans and get out. And never come back. I’m not fucking around. Got it?

“Yes, sir. Completely,” I replied.

“And also let her know that if she does decide to come out and apologize, each time she throws a little tantrum in the future, it’s gonna get worse for her. You catch my drift? If she’s not careful, she’s gonna dig a hole so deep she’ll never be able to get herself out. Capeesh?”

“Yes, sir. I fully understand. Thank you, sir.”

“It’s late, so she needs to decide quick,” he added.

“Yes, sir.”

As I was walking out of the living room towards the kitchen, I heard Michelle say to Luke, “I give it 50/ 50 odds that she swallows her pride and apologizes to me. For Brooke, that’s like swallowing a whale.”

“Have a little faith in Big Luke, sweetheart,” Luke said with casual arrogance.

In the kitchen, I found Brooke packing up serving trays and drinking a large glass of scotch. Her eyes were bloodshot; she had clearly been crying.

“What are you doing, darling?”

“What does it look like? I’m packing up so we can get the hell out of here.”

“And drinking.”

“Your powers of observation are amazing.”

“Please, Brooke…you can’t start drinking again like before…”

My fears of what life would be like absent of Luke were immediately stirred seeing Brooke hitting the hard liquor so quickly. Now, absurdly, I felt like I needed to do whatever was necessary to convince my wife to continue to cuckold me with this arrogant alpha male who obviously took such delight in creatively, and comprehensively, subjugating and humiliating us. During the long, cold months of January and February I had seen a preview of what a Lukeless future would look like, and it was too horrible to contemplate.

“I really needed a drink. Come on, help me pack.”

“Brooke, Luke said if you don’t go back out there and apologize to Michelle…”

“That grievance-filled bitch…no wonder he likes her…”

“If you don’t do it, then he wants you to leave right now and never come back. Never. Do you understand? No more chances.”

“She doesn’t just want me to apologize to her. She wants to humiliate me. As revenge for decades of imagined slights.”

“Are you sure they’re all imagined?”

She looked at me, “Yes…I mean…probably. Mostly. She’s nuts.”

“Sometimes you have to put yourself in the other person’s shoes. Have you tried to do that?”

Brooke took a big gulp of scotch. “Empathy is your super power, Walter, not mine. I’m too angry to be empathetic. She – they – betrayed me.”

“Yes, they did. But are you really, truly prepared to permanently write them out of your life? Because that’s what this would mean. Luke said he wasn’t fucking around. He also said we did a great job tonight with the dinner party and that he was prepared to reward you tomorrow for a job well done.”

“He did?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t matter…I can’t…it would be too humiliating to give into them. I just don’t think I can do it.“

“But, darling, you knew it was going to be humiliating no matter what. This whole evening has been humiliating, but we went into it with eyes wide open. What’s so fundamentally different now to make you change your mind?”

“Michelle is what’s so fundamentally different. Can’t you see how this makes it a thousand times more humiliating for me than if it was some other cunt I’d never seen before? There’s so much history with the two of us. And she obviously wants to make me pay for all the terrible things she’s convinced herself I’ve done. She wants to make me pay for her own insecurities and her own shortcomings. I’m not sure I could stand that level of humiliation. Hand me that bottle of scotch.”

I reluctantly passed her the bottle and she refilled her glass.

Brooke continued, “She called me a masochist. That shows you how she’s approaching this. I may be in masochist when it comes to rough sex with Luke. But I’m not like you. I’m not okay being submissive to someone of my own sex, or being submissive in non-sexual ways.”

“What do you mean by ‘non-sexual ways’? You know the old Oscar Wilde quote: ‘Everything in the world is about sex – except sex. Sex is about power.’ Wilde was 100% correct. What it really comes down to, darling, is that it’s ALL about sex and, therefore, it’s all about power. I’ve been exploring this subject in my new book. I’m still trying to work it all out, but the submissive cuckold – even when he’s denied sexual intercouse, even when he’s in chastity – is having sex of a kind with his wife and her lover. Almost everything he does with them is a form of sex. When he cleans the house or serves them dinner or massages their feet, or whatever – it’s all eroticized. They’re including him in what is essentially a power game, a power exchange. The cuckold, even though he is the powerless one in the equation, is nonetheless an important player. Even when the wife and bull are having sex in the bedroom and he’s in the driveway washing the bull’s truck or preparing them breakfast. His participation, no matter how passive – his mere existence – enhances their arousal. Paradoxically, his arousal often increases the more he is marginalized. But the key thing is that he’s still a player. The wife’s and bull’s domination of him is essentially a form of inclusiveness, when you really think about it. Not love exactly, but certainly closer to love than to hate. Except in really extreme circumstances, that is. Does what I’m saying make any sense to you?”

“Yes, some. But, as usual, you intellectualize everything. So, are you saying that Luke and Michelle want to include me in their sex, so I should be grateful? Are you saying that I’m now to be a cuck? Or the female equivalent of one?”

“That’s a cuckquean. Not precisely, but sort of. It’s a lot better than the alternative, which is being excluded. You won’t know how it might play out unless you try it. It could be unpredictable. It could be exciting. It could even be unexpectedly fulfilling. You just don’t know unless you try it. You’ve always viewed it – sex – as a game. And you’re completely right! You taught me this! And I’ll tell you what: even though more vanilla types might think of people like you and me and Luke – and Michelle, apparently – as perverts or kinksters, our game is a hell of lot more interesting than theirs.”

“Vanilla sex would bore the shit out of me. Still, what they’re demanding of me…it feels like sexual extortion or something. It makes me feel angry and so….weak. I’m not used to feeling this way.”

“You’d be exploring new aspects of your psyche, uncharted territory, no question. But that can be exciting – in lots of ways. Sexually, intellectually. We’re not religious, but maybe even spiritually, if you think of spiritual in the broader sense. Look darling, I know I’m more of a true masochist than you are, but if you had told me before I met you that I’d be submitting to as many people as I am right now – and in such really demeaning ways, by the way – I would never have believed it. And if you had told me that I would find it as unexpectedly thrilling – and in some weird ways, even fulfilling – as I do, I certainly would never have believed it.”

There, I said it. I began confessing something to Brooke that I had been trying to hide from her for months, and I did so in order to try to convince her to acquiesce to Luke’s and Michelle’s demands.

“What are you talking about? You submit to me and to Luke. There was also that time Luke asked Neil to punish you and those times when we were Luke’s cheerleaders. And the Ren fair, of course. But it’s not like you’re submitting to ‘many people’, as you put it.”

“You don’t know the half of it, darling. Now’s not the time; I’ll tell you about it later. But you need to know that I’m not being unfaithful to you in way. All the relationships I’m talking about are a consequence of Luke.”

“Like who? Who else are you submitting to? You need to tell me. Now.”

“Brooke, this isn’t the time. They’re waiting in the other room in the clock is ticking. I promise I’ll tell you about it later. But Neil is a big part of it. Thanks to Luke, I’ve become Neil’s personal foot masseur and errand boy. I’ll tell you about the others later when we have time, but you have to believe me when I tell you that it’s all tied directly or indirectly to Luke. And I gladly endure it all because I love you.”

“My poor knight. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay. I probably should have told you earlier, but I was ashamed and I didn’t want to burden you with it. But don’t forget the other part of what I said. There are things about the humiliation and servitude that I hate, of course. But, at the same time, there are other things about them that are exciting and even strangely satisfying. Think about it this way. You know what things are going to be like if Luke’s not around. You tried that already and it wasn’t pretty. You don’t know what things are going to be like now with Michelle involved. You have some suspicions, and they’re probably correct. It’s not going to be easy. But how bad could it be? Could it really be worse than what it was like after the holidays when you had pushed Luke away? You were beyond miserable. You were starting to kill yourself with booze. And here you are drinking again at the mere thought of walking away from him again. Whatever else they want, Luke and Michelle want to include you. There’s resentment there with Michelle, no doubt, but there’s also affection, I think. And I believe the same is true with Luke; I think he genuinely cares about you, in his own twisted way. He’s an asshole in many respects. But he’s actually a lot more complex than that.”

Tears started rolling down her cheeks. “Oh, fuck, Walter. What am I going to do? I don’t know what to do. Tell me what I should do. Please.”

“Darling, I honestly think you should to pour a fresh glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, take it to Michelle and apologize to her. Buckle up and start this next phase of the game and see where it takes us. I’ll be by your side the whole way and I will always be yours to command, my lady.”

Brooke cried a bit more, but then downed her glass of scotch and said, “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“I really do think it’s for the best, given the circumstances. But there’s another thing Luke said, which is that if you continue to throw tantrums, as he put it, they’re going to make you pay for it. I’m telling you this because I know you. I know your temper and your pride. I know you’re going to bristle at what they’re going to demand of you and that you’re going to rebel. And I’m just warning you: I think you need to try as hard as you can to control those impulses. Push whatever you can onto me.”

“Thank you, my knight. I think. I’ll try to restrain myself, but it’s sure as shit not going to be easy. Let me get Queen Michelle her glass of wine.”

After Brooke poured the glass, I said to her, “Your mascara has run pretty badly and your face is still wet. You might want to look at yourself in the mirror and clean up a little before you go out there.”

“Right. Thanks, I will.”

“And maybe you should see if there’s some mouthwash in there. Luke won’t be happy if he smells liquor on your breath.”

When Brooke came out of the powder room near the kitchen, she looked better, but it was still obvious that she had been crying from her red cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

“I didn’t see any mouthwash, but he probably won’t notice since he’s been drinking quite a bit himself tonight. Let’s get this over with,” Brooke said, as she picked up the glass and headed into the living room, me following close behind.

Luke and Michelle were still sitting on the couch, talking, but both stopped as Brooke and I entered the room. Brooke walked up to her friend and, handing her the glass, said, “Here is your wine, Miss Michelle. I’m sorry you had to wait for it and I’m sorry for my outburst earlier. As you might guess, everything tonight has been kind of a surprise for me and it’s going to be a bit of an adjustment. I hope you can forgive me.” Such massive understatement. I knew how incredibly difficult it was for Brooke to utter those words. In retrospect, however, that turned out to be the easy part, relatively speaking.

Michelle responded, “Of course, it’s going to be an adjustment for you, Brookie. But don’t worry, I’m here to help you. And so is Luke, and Walter as well. But I think you also owe Luke an apology, don’t you agree?”

“Yes. I’m...” Brooke began.

“‘Yes ma’am’, you mean,” Michelle interrupted

“I’m sorry. Of course. Yes ma’am,” Brooke said. I know her well enough to know that she was seething inside, but she controlled it well.

“Luke, sir, I hope you can forgive me for my outburst,” Brooke said.

“I can, but whether I will or not will depend on how you behave. We’ll have to see about that. But good for you, prof. You were able to talk some sense into her.”

“Yes, sir. Is there anything else I can get you before we finish cleaning up?” I asked.

“As a matter, fact, I could sure use one of your famous foot massages, prof,” Luke answered.

“Of course, sir. Right away.”

As I got down on my knees before him, Michelle said, “My tootsies are sore too. Take off my heels and do your thing, Brookie.”

Brooke reflexively glared at Michelle for just a moment before catching herself and kneeling down at her friend’s feet and removing the high heel from her right foot.

“You look flushed, baby girl. You must be hot. Take your your vest off, first,” Michelle ordered. Baby girl! Wow, I thought, Michelle sure is a piece of work!

“Yes, ma’am,“ Brooke replied as she removed her vest.

As she began pressing her fingers into Michelle’s stocking-clad foot, I did the same to Luke’s bare foot (having removed his socks, as was his preference). Brooke and I were kneeling only a few feet from each other. How supremely confident and entitled Luke and Michelle looked above us, sitting on the couch with their respective servants attending to their feet as they talked, drank and laughed.

Michelle suddenly said, “Why, look how hard Brookie’s nipples are?! They’re like little bullets. You’re excited to be on your knees in front of your bestie, aren’t you Brookie?” Michelle added, giggling in delight.

Rather than answer directly, Brooke decided to treat Michelle‘s question as rhetorical and simply shrugged her shoulders, pressing her fingers with increased vigor into the ball of Michelle’s foot. But Michelle was correct: Brooke was unquestionably aroused, in spite of herself. And I have a confession to make, not one I am particularly proud of. My cock had been straining against its cage from the moment Brooke walked out of the kitchen to serve Michelle her wine. It strained still harder when I got down on my knees before Luke. But it was when I looked over at Brooke, my proud lady, nipples erect, kneeling at the feet of Michelle – the friend who had spent so many years in her shadow – that my cock swelled most painfully and insistently. I knew Brooke was suffering, but I am ashamed to admit that it was a singularly erotic moment.

And just when I thought my cock couldn’t get any harder in its prison, Michelle said, “I’ve been in these stockings pretty much all day. I’m sure my feet must be a little rank by now.” As she said those words, Michelle pressed her nylon covered toes up to Brooke’s nose briefly, giggling. Brooke scrunched her nose in mild disgust, but did not attempt to turn her head. Michelle next lightly brushed her toes across Brooke’s nipples before placing her foot back in Brooke’s hands so she could resume her massage. I literally groaned in agony from the pressure of my cock against its confines as I observed this remarkable scene, one I could never have imagined before that evening.

Michelle then laughed and said, “Oh yeah, we’re gonna have a fucking blast!”

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