Marriage Plan

After leaving Mark alone in his little boxroom, Tom said goodbye to Sarah and Eleanor with a passionate Kiss and a promise to call. He walked out into the cool night air, the smile fading from his lips as he got into his truck, replaced by a look of deep, self-satisfied contemplation. He remembered the first time he met Sarah. Mark, beaming with a rare, unguarded happiness, had introduced her as his girlfriend. Tom, who had always been the more confident and successful of the two, was genuinely pleased for his friend. Mark had never really had much luck with girls in the past; he was too shy, too eager to please, too easily intimidated.

But after meeting her a few times, he noticed little changes. Sarah was becoming more assertive, her opinions sharper, her presence more commanding. And Mark, in turn, looked more cowed, his smiles more forced, his posture more stooped.

Then one day, they were sitting down at a local club, just him and Mark, with music playing and drinks flowing. Mark had too much to drink, so Tom, being a good friend, ordered an Uber and shared a ride home with him. Tom only lived a few streets away, so he didn't mind walking after he had dropped his friend off. Sarah was staying the night at Mark's flat, so she opened the door for them, her expression one of theatrical annoyance. She tutted loudly and told Tom to bring him in. Tom deposited Mark on the sofa, and Sarah asked if Tom wanted a coffee. He thought, great, it would be a good chance for him to find out more about his best friend's girlfriend.

Somehow, they started talking about sex, and she was turning him on. Her voice was a low, suggestive purr, her eyes holding his with an unnerving intensity. His mind was set on doing the right thing and leaving. He stood and thanked her for the coffee. She stood too and came close. Her hands went to his chest, and she leaned in. Her other hand went to his jeans and squeezed. At the same time, her lips brushed his. "You don't want to go just yet, do you?" she asked, her voice a silken thread of temptation.

Tom closed his eyes, his loyalty to his friend in a furious battle with his libido. His libido was winning. He leaned in and kissed her back. Her hand went around the back of his neck, and they kissed hard and passionately. Her hand found his zipper, and she slowly pulled it down. Her hand went into the gap, and she gasped into his mouth at what she found. They broke their kiss, and then he saw it for the first time. Her smile. It wasn't a happy, pleasant smile; it was sneering and calculating, a predator's grin. She pulled him by his massive cock and led him through the flat to the front room, where Mark lay snoring on the sofa. Tom tried to pull away, a flicker of guilt warring with his arousal, but Sarah's grip tightened around his cock, a painful, possessive hold.

That's when it started. She whispers in his ear about how pathetic his friend is. "Look at him," she hissed, her voice hot against his ear. "Do you really think he could be man enough for me? I need a cock like this. His pathetic little cock is never going inside me." That was the first time they fucked, right there, on the plush rug in front of the sofa where Mark lay snoring, oblivious. Tom had never felt so powerful as he did right then, Sarah's whispers egging him on, convincing him that this was his right, that Mark was unworthy.

Mark woke up the next morning, his face feeling like something had dried on it. He stumbled off to the shower, trying not to wake Sarah. He washed away the remnants of last night's drinking. He didn't know he was washing away his best friend's dried spunk. Sarah had insisted that Tom masturbate and spurt his seed onto his pathetic, drunken friend's face, a baptism, a welcome to a world he didn't know existed.

From there, Tom's mind leapt to the day he had met Sarah's mother. He thought it was strange; it was bad enough that he was regularly screwing his best friend's fiancée, but now her mother wanted to meet him. He didn't really want to, but Sarah had a way of persuading him that was both intoxicating and unnerving. Worse of all, she wanted to see him alone.

He knocked on Eleanor's front door, and she smiled, a warm, welcoming smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She was an older version of her daughter, but no less beautiful for it, her figure still trim and her hair a stylish silver. Eleanor hugged him like they were best friends, her body pressing against his a little too long to be purely platonic. She took him through to the kitchen, where a bottle of wine and two glasses were waiting for them. She offered him a beer, but he said no, wine was fine.

They sat and talked, the conversation flowing easily. Eleanor was charming and intelligent, and she listened to him with such intensity that he felt like the most important man in the world. She asked about his work, his ambitions, his life. And then, subtly, the conversation shifted. She asked about Mark.

"He's a good bloke," Tom said, feeling a pang of something he couldn't identify.

"Good is one word for it," Eleanor said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. She leaned forward, her hand resting on his knee. "But is he what my Sarah needs? Can he give her what she needs, Tom?"

He looked at her, confused. Her hand slid further up his thigh. "You're a man, Tom. A real man. You have... appetites. Sarah has appetites that Mark could never truly satisfy".

Her words were a venomous poison, but they felt like the truth. He felt his resistance crumbling, his loyalty to Mark dissolving under the weight of his own ego and desire.

"Stand up and strip, let me see what my daughter is getting,” she commanded, her voice suddenly sharp, authoritative.

He did, his body obeying before his mind could protest.

"Hands behind your back."

He complied, his heart pounding. She produced a pair of leather cuffs from a drawer and secured his wrists. Then she produced a collar, a simple, elegant leather band, and clipped it around his neck. He was no longer a guest; he was a possession. She ordered him to kneel, and he did. This was a new feeling for Tom; he was usually in command, the girls dropping to their knees, but Eleanore, and he suspected Sarah too, was different, and it excited him.

She then sent a text, and five minutes later, Sarah arrived. Eleanor pulled on the leash attached to the collar, and Tom stood. Eleanor kissed her daughter on the lips, a long, deep, passionate kiss. "Let's see what this cock can do, shall we?" Eleanor said, her eyes gleaming with predatory lust.

For the next two hours, they used him. They took him to the bedroom, and they used his mouth, his hands, his cock. They explored every inch of him, their hands and mouths and bodies a relentless assault on his senses. He was a toy, a stud, a tool for their pleasure. He was forced to pleasure them both, his tongue bringing them to orgasm, his cock filling them one after the other. He was humiliated and degraded, but he was also worshipped, his body the centre of their universe. It was the most intense, confusing, and exhilarating experience of his life.

When they were finished, he lay on the bed, exhausted, his body covered in their scent, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He was no longer just a man who was screwing his best friend's girl. He was an integral part of the plan to break Mark.

He did ask why Sarah didn't just break it off with him. Eleanor stroked his face, her touch surprisingly gentle. "Dear, sweet boy," she said, her voice soft. "My daughter deserves everything. A husband and all he can provide, and a lover with all he can provide. We have looked at Mark, and his work prospects are very good. He earns very good money, he is wealthy, and he has no family, and as a bonus, he has a best friend who is a manslut."

Tom looked up at her, then back down again. He knew his reputation.

She continued, "Not only is his best friend a manslut, but he is jealous of his achievements. This little man, who was always bullied at school, the boy Tom always protected, soared after school and in the workplace, while you, Tommy, were living by the seat of your pants and the size of your cock."

He tried to protest, but he knew it was all true, and it felt good to see Mark crumble under Sarah's heel. It felt good to be the one in power for once.

"Now," Eleanor said, her voice hard again. "You have a role to play. You are the reward, the temptation, the ultimate proof of his failure. And you will enjoy every minute of it." And he did. He enjoyed it more than he ever thought possible.