Rhoda's Pet

Over the next few weeks, Rhoda shifted tactics, turning her attention to befriending my family. She went out to lunch with my mother and sister, charming them with a warmth and sophistication that stood in stark contrast to the woman I lived with. She even "accidentally" bumped into my father at a property auction preview and engaged him in a deep conversation about the market. They seemed convinced she was the answer to my loneliness, a woman of substance who could elevate our social standing. I watched from the sidelines, the puppet master pulling the strings, while I was left to rot in the background.

At home, I was becoming more and more a slave to her whims. My sphere of influence shrank until I was doing all the cooking, cleaning, and washing our clothes. I was the staff, the servant, the invisible man in my own home.

Rhoda often went on dates, leaving me tied up or chained in some humiliating position for hours. When she returned, smelling of other men and expensive cologne, she would crawl into bed with me and whisper that she missed me, pretending I was the only one who mattered, while I stared at the ceiling, my wrists raw from the ropes and balls full of come. I had to ask before I could come, but I wasn’t allowed to speak.

Isabella paid a visit once. She was delighted to make me up and dress me in lingerie, treating me like a mannequin for her amusement. 

The wedding arrangements were moving forward with a terrifying efficiency. There would be a standard wedding at a registry office, followed by a reception in a hall. But Rhoda kept the details of the "real ceremony" private, claiming it was a surprise for our honeymoon. I knew better. When we left for our so-called honeymoon, we wouldn't be going to a beach; we would be going to the ‘real ceremony,' and my life would be sealed once and for all.

Two days before the wedding, Rhoda announced that a guest was arriving and ordered me to hide in my room until summoned. Naturally, I was naked and collared, kneeling in the corner of the bedroom, facing the wall, while Rhoda lounged on the sofa, watching mindless reality TV.

I crawled into the darkness of my closet-like room, pulling the rubber hood over my head. The world fell silent. Thirty minutes later, the flat door opened. Her voice changed instantly—the mask slipped on. It was sweet and bubbly, the voice of the woman who was about to marry me.

"Oh, hi! Come on in."

"Er, sure," he said, his voice trailing off. "But I'm not sure why I'm here. I mean, is it about the wedding? I thought it was all under control.”

I knew the voice, it was David, my best friend, and in two days would be my best man.

"James is just a bit... high maintenance," Rhoda interrupted smoothly. "He gets anxious about details. Can't handle the logistics sometimes. I just wanted to run a few things by you."

David seemed concerned. "Is everything okay with him? He seemed... weird last time we met. Like he was hiding something."

"He's just nervous," Rhoda said with a sweet, pitying smile. "He's never done this before. He needs a strong hand to keep him organized."

"Oh," David said. "Right. Well, that makes sense. I guess he's just... flaky."

"I'll handle him," Rhoda assured him.

"Right," David said, sounding relieved to be off the hook. “Well, then why am I here?” 

“Come through to the kitchen, and we’ll have a chat.”

I heard their footsteps in the kitchen, the clink of china as cups were set on the table. I assumed they were sitting down for a civil chat, but the conversation quickly pivoted.

"How's that wife of yours?" Rhoda asked out of the blue. It sounded like idle chatter, but the tone was sharp.

"Er, okay," David replied, sounding uncertain. "She's looking forward to James finally getting hitched."He chuckled nervously, trying to ease the tension. 

"Does she know about the girl at work you've been fucking?"

This was news to me, a complete shock. I froze in the darkness of my room, and the rubber hood muffled my gasp. But I could hear the sheer panic in David's voice.

"What? Er, what do you mean?" he stammered.

"Lisa," Rhoda said, her voice dropping to a silken threat. "Your co-worker. The little blonde with the big tits."

I heard a chair scrape violently against the floor as David stood up. "Look, I don't know what the fuck you think you're doing here," he snapped, his anger overriding his fear. "But I'm done. I'll make up an excuse to James why I'm not coming to his wedding."

"You can leave if you want to, David," Rhoda said, her voice dangerously calm. "But then I'd have to give Gary Jones a call. You know, your boss? And I'd let him know that you're using your company expense account for hotels so you and Lisa could have some fun."

I had no idea how she found out all of this. I had known David for years, and this was news to me. She was playing a game I didn't understand, holding cards I didn't know existed.

The chair scraped against the floorboards again, a sound of resignation. "What do you want?" David asked, his voice stripped of its earlier bravado.

Rhoda didn't hesitate. The mask slipped away. The sweetness evaporated, replaced by the cold, hard edge of the woman who owned me. "I want you to fuck me," she said. It was a simple command, delivered as casually as asking him to pick up milk.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This was the same woman who had charmed my parents into submission. She was ordering my best friend to bed.

"What?" David asked, genuine shock in his voice.

"I want you to fuck me," she repeated, her voice dropping to a silken threat. "And you will do it my way, or I will give Gary Jones a call in the morning. You'll be out of a job and on the street by the time James and I are married."

This was the bitch. This was the real Rhoda. She wasn't just my fiancé; she was a monster.

"But what about James?" David stammered, grasping for a lifeline. "I couldn't. He's my best friend."

Rhoda laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. "Best friend? Where do you think I got this information, David? He thinks you're a joke."

She lied so easily it hurt. "He was drinking one night and told me he only kept you around for your business contacts. He said he was hoping to fuck your pretty wife."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to kick the door open and tell David she was full of shit, that I would never say that. I was shaking beneath the rubber hood, my heart hammering against my ribs. But my body stayed put, paralyzed by her order. A single tear slipped from my eye, tracing a path through the muck of the hood. She wasn't just controlling me; she was systematically tearing my life apart, piece by piece.

"I don't believe you," David said, but the doubt was heavy in his voice.

"That's up to you, David. I really don't care. Now, get your fucking clothes off, or get the fuck out so I can make my calls."

There was a long moment of silence. The chair scraped again, the lighter flicked, and I heard her inhale deeply before blowing smoke into the quiet air. She was enjoying this.

"Everything," she commanded.

More rustling of clothes. "Hands behind your back."

"What's up with it? Doesn't it work?" she laughed, a sharp, dismissive sound. "Use your hand to get it hard."

I could imagine her sitting there, relaxed, smoking, barking orders at a grown man. A bitter, twisted part of me thought, ‘Welcome to my world, David.’ I was disappointed he didn't put up a fight.

"That's better," she told him, her voice dripping with insincere praise. "Show me. Hands behind your back."

"Mmm," she mused. "Not as big as James’s. Let's hope you know how to use it.” "Now get on your hands and knees."

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Then, David’s voice finally exploded.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me, bitch. You want a fuck? That's fine. I'll fuck you, but I'm not getting on my knees for anyone, let alone a fat cunt like you."

My ears pricked up. David found his spine. If I could move, I would be jumping up and down, cheering.

More silence followed, broken only by David's shallow breathing. Then came a heavy thud, as if a body had fallen. "I thought you might have a little fight in you," Rhoda said, her voice cool and clinical. "So I put a little something in your tea. Don't worry, it won't last long. Now, up on your knees."

I heard the rustle of struggling limbs as David tried to rise but was pushed back down. "That's a good boy. Now, follow me."

More movement, shuffling feet. "No, stay on your knees like a good boy." Her command was absolute. They went into her bedroom.

Then Rhoda stepped into my room. She ripped the rubber hood from my head, and air rushed around my head. “Come," she said.

I scrambled, crawling on my hands and knees without hesitation, unable to do anything but obey. I followed her into her bedroom, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Stand up."

I stood, trembling. She pulled my head down to hers and kissed me. The taste was revolting—sour tobacco and the sweet aftertaste of Earl Grey tea. It was disgusting, but my cock grew hard instantly, betraying me.

Rhoda took a small package from her bedside cabinet and tore it open with her teeth. She rolled a condom over my shaft with practiced efficiency. She grabbed my cock, guiding me toward the bed where David lay, his eyes glazed and heavy.

"Fuck him."

I looked at her in horror, my eyes wide.

"Who owns you?"

She stared directly into my eyes, demanding submission. "You do, Ms. Rhoda."

"And what must you do?"

"Love and obey Ms. Rhoda."

"That's right," she hissed. "Now fuck your best friend. I WILL NOT ASK AGAIN."

My mind shattered into a million pieces. Tears streamed down my face as I positioned myself behind David. I gripped his hips and entered him, invading his body. I can't lie—after the initial shock, the friction felt good. I felt a strange, twisted power, as if I were taking something for once. I built up, my breath ragged.

Then I saw Rhoda. She was filming everything on her phone, her other hand buried deep in the front of her loose pants, pleasuring herself. If I could only speak, I would beg her to let me come, to grant me the release she was so clearly enjoying. But she hadn't allowed it. I was trapped in the moment, fucking my best friend while being watched and denied.