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The New Order, Part 5: The Vow

By Juliet Monroe · BNWO hotwife erotica · 9 min read · part 5 of 10

The circle

The vows were on a Sunday night, in Vivienne's drawing room, with the curtains closed.

There were candles everywhere. The furniture had been pushed back against the walls, and in the middle of the room there was a long low table covered in black velvet, and around it, in a circle, stood the wives of Larkspur Lane in black dresses, every one barefoot, every silver spade catching the candlelight.

Their husbands knelt behind them. Each one directly behind his wife, hands folded, eyes on the floor.

The bulls stood by the fireplace, talking quietly among themselves, as if none of this concerned them much. Dante was there. Marcus. The man from Vivienne's kitchen, whose name I learned that night was Isaiah.

You and I came in together, holding hands. I was in black too. You were in nothing but your cage and your wedding ring. Vivienne had insisted.

"Kneel there," she told you, pointing to a cushion at the head of the velvet table. "You'll want to see."

My vow

Vivienne read the words first, and I repeated them. I'm going to write them here exactly, darling, because you were too far gone that night to remember them, and I want you to have them.

I give my body to the man who earned it.

I keep my husband, and my husband keeps my secret.

I wear the spade where my husband can see it and no one else can.

What my husband cannot give me, I take, and I come home, and I tell him everything.

The ring stays on.

When I said the last line, the circle said it with me. Twenty women at once. You made a sound behind me like somebody had pressed on a bruise.

Then Dante crossed the room, and lifted me onto the black velvet, and the circle stepped closer.

Dante was already kissing my neck when he lifted me onto the velvet. He worked his way down my back, his lips hot on my shoulder blades, his tongue flicking into my ear. "Beautiful," he breathed. "All mine."

My eyes went to you. You were still kneeling, your face buried in your hands, your cage still locked. I wanted to tell you I was sorry. I wanted to reach out and touch your hair, but Dante's grip on my waist kept me still.

Dante's hands moved down my sides, pushing my breasts out, cupping my nipples through my dress. He sucked on my collarbone, leaving a trail of red on my skin.

"Yours," he murmured. "All of me is yours."

I was already panting. The heat of Dante's body, the way he touched me, it was all I could think about. My own clit throbbed in my panties, and I knew I was getting close.

Dante's hands slid under my dress, his fingers digging into my thighs. He pulled my dress down, one shoulder, then the other. It pooled around my feet, and he tossed it aside.

I lay there in my bra and panties, my breasts bare and exposed. The other wives touched my hair, their fingers cool on my skin. "Beautiful," they whispered. "So beautiful."

Dante leaned over me, his face inches from mine. He kissed me then, his lips hard and demanding. He took my mouth, my tongue, and I moaned into his mouth.

His hands moved lower, slipping under my panties. He pressed two fingers against my clit, and I gasped. My hips bucked against him, my thighs tightening around his waist.

"Fuck," Dante groaned. "You're so tight."

He pushed his fingers inside me, two fingers, then three. He pumped them in and out, his thumb circling my clit. I came undone, my body arching off the table, my fingers clawing at his back.

"Yes," Dante moaned. "Come for me."

I came on his fingers, my body shaking and trembling. Dante kept thrusting, and I came again, and again. I came until I could come no more.

Dante pulled his fingers out of me, and I whimpered. He stood up, and I watched him go to the bed.

He came back with a bottle of lube. He squeezed some into his hand, and I watched him smear it on his cock. It was so big, so hard. I knew I would feel it for days.

Dante knelt between my legs, and I parted them. He lowered himself between my thighs, and I gasped as he touched me with his cock.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded, and he pushed in.

He filled me, and I moaned. I could feel him in my stomach, his cock stretching me so wide. He started to move, slow and deep.

"Yes," I whispered. "Yes, please."

Dante kept moving, and I came again, and again, and again. I came until I was shaking and gasping, until I thought I couldn't take any more.

Dante kept moving, and I felt him get hard again inside me. He kept coming, and I came with him, over and over.

"Yours," I said, so the whole circle could hear. "All of me is yours."

Your vow

Then it was your turn.

Vivienne made you crawl to the foot of the table. You did it beautifully. You knelt between my feet, where I lay on the velvet with Dante still beside me, his hand resting on my hip over the spade.

You had to read yours from a card. Your voice broke three times. Nobody laughed. I want you to know that, darling: in that whole room, nobody laughed at you once.

I give my wife to the man who can satisfy her.

I stay locked, and I am grateful.

I serve, I clean, I thank, and I never say no.

I keep her home warm for when she comes back to me.

The ring stays on.

When you'd finished, Vivienne turned to me.

"The key, Juliet."

It had been around my neck for three weeks. I'd showered in it, slept in it, felt it swing against me every time Dante took me. I lifted the chain over my head. It was warm.

I held it out to you first. Just for a second. So you could see it. You looked at it the way a man looks at a door that's just been bricked up.

Then I put it in Dante's hand, and his fingers closed around it.

Dante turned the key in your cage, and it swung open with a click. You stood up, and he put his hand on your back.

"Go on," he said softly. "Go to her."

You walked over to me, and I looked up at you. I saw your eyes shining with tears. You knelt down in front of me, and I put my hands on your shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, darling," you whispered. "I'm so sorry for everything."

I kissed you, and I felt you flinch at first, but then you kissed me back. I put my hands in your hair and pulled you close.

"I love you," you said. "I always will."

"I know," I said. "And I love you too. But I'm not the same woman I was when we were married. I don't want to be that woman anymore."

You nodded, and I felt your muscles tense.

"What do I do now?" you asked.

"Serve," I said. "Clean. Thank. And never say no."

You looked down at your cock, and I saw it start to stiffen.

"I'll do it," you said. "I'll do anything."

I smiled, and I could feel the warmth of Dante's hand on my back.

"Good boy," I said.

Dante knelt down, and I felt his hands on my thighs. I spread my legs, and he pushed his fingers inside me.

"Open wide," I said.

You knelt in front of me, and I could feel your eyes on my pussy. You looked up at me, and I saw the desperation in your eyes.

"Please," you whispered. "Please let me clean you."

I smiled, and I could feel Dante's fingers inside me.

"Yes," I said. "Clean me. Lick me. Make me feel good."

You put your head between my legs, and I felt your tongue on my clit. You licked me, and I moaned. I could feel Dante's fingers inside me, and I could feel your tongue on my clit. I could feel your tongue on my pussy, and I could feel your tongue on my thighs.

"Good boy," I said. "You're such a good boy."

The other wives watched, and they clapped and cheered. Dante kept pushing his fingers inside me, and I came on his fingers, and you kept licking me, and I came again, and again, and again.

I came on your tongue, and you swallowed it all down. I came on your tongue with my wedding ring tangled in your hair.

The ring stays on

The circle broke up slowly. Women hugged me. Women I barely knew kissed my cheeks and told me welcome, welcome home. Shannon pressed a little velvet box into my hand, and inside was my own silver anklet with my own spade, and Vivienne knelt and fastened it herself and gave the loaned one back to her own ankle.

The husbands were sent to the kitchen. You went with them. I watched you go through the doorway in your cage and your ring, in a line of men in cages and rings, and you looked back at me once and smiled, and I thought I might die of it.

The candle flames danced and flickered as Dante pushed inside me again. The key to your cage swung against my face with each thrust, a constant reminder of your presence and your impotence. I wanted you to hear every groan, every moan, every gasp as he filled me again and again.

"Yes, Dante," I moaned. "Yes, yes, yes. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Make me yours, make me yours, make me yours. I'm yours, all yours. Yours, yours, yours."

I could feel you watching, listening. I wanted you to hear every drop of cum he spilled inside me, to feel the heat of it as it dripped down my thighs. I wanted you to know, in your gut, in your very soul, that you were mine no longer. That I belonged to Dante now, utterly and completely.

"You hear that, darling?" I whispered as he came inside me, my pussy clenching around him. "You hear me screaming for him? You hear me begging for his cock? You hear me coming on his cum?"

I reached down and took the key from around his neck, holding it to my lips. "This is my key now," I purred. "Your key is gone. You'll never have this again. Never. Not unless you earn it back."

I brought the key down to my pussy, rubbing it against my clit. "I want you to watch me, darling. Watch me as I come on his cock. Watch me as I take his cum. Watch me as I surrender to him completely."

I came down on the key, hard, my orgasm building as I watched Dante's face fall and his breath catch. I could feel him watching me, see it in his body, in the way his cock stilled and then surged again, filling me one more time. I came on him again, my pussy fluttering around him as he emptied himself inside me.

I lay on his chest afterwards, holding your key in my fist, and listened to you washing glasses in the kitchen.

We walked home together at two in the morning, you and I, three doors down Larkspur Lane, my new anklet chiming softly with every step. You held my hand. The street was dark and every house was quiet, and in every one of them, I knew now, there was a wife and a ring and a little silver spade.

At our front door you stopped.

"Juliet," you said. "What happens now?"

I didn't know, darling. Not then.

But Dante did. There was an envelope on our doormat, cream and thick, with a silver spade on the back. Inside was a single key. Not yours. A house key. And a card in his handwriting:

Friday to Sunday, she lives with me. Monday morning, I send her home to you full. Tell your husband he can drive her.