'My Husband's Rich Boyfriend' draft: The final chapter! (Patreon)

Okay guys, this is the end. Here's the final chapter of my latest story, tentatively titled 'My Husband's Rich Boyfriend' (although I think I might change the name when it's published).

Hope you like the draft. From here I'll be doing an edit of the entire book, working on some cover art, and then publishing! The final version is probably going to be a little different - and hopefully a little better - than the first draft, so if you're interested I encourage you to have a read of it once it's done. And if you're on the 'bud' tier (that's the $10 tier) you'll receive a free copy of the ebook once it's ready.

Anyway, enjoy! And as usual hit me up with your comments.

Letting myself in the security gate and then the front door was kind of surreal. For the first time I had access to enter Callum and Winston’s private space of my own accord. I debated whether to ring the doorbell anyway, but thought better of it; I knew they had no staff on site today which meant either no one would answer, or Callum and Winston would need to stop whatever they were doing and coming to the door. The last thing I wanted to do was disturb them.

Wandering up the stairs in silence, I felt like a ghost: an unseen presence stalking through the house, lingering from a past life to watch the new inhabitants of my marriage. I wondered — yet again — whether I’d made a terrible mistake doing this. But even if I had it was too late now, I’d already quit my job, put my stuff in storage, and signed the contract for tenants to move into my house this weekend.

When I reached the top of the stairs I could faintly hear the sound of them fucking. I put down my bags and crept carefully, silently down the hallway towards their room. For a few minutes I stood, listening to the slow, rhythmic rocking of the bed and Winston’s whispered moans. My dick got hard instantly, and I longed to touch it. But I brushed that aside in my mind; I knew I’d need to show some restraint, because if I let myself get my dick out every time their antics turned me on I’d never get anything done around the house.

After I’d let myself listen for what felt like long enough, I pulled myself away. I took my bags to my room and started getting myself set up. The room was small and pretty sparse, and as I took my clothes from my bag and neatly put them in my new chest of drawers I felt like a monk, unpacking his meagre possessions into his cell in a monastery, readying for a life of austerity. I guess there were a lot of parallels between my life and a monk’s, because from today I was going to be living a life of chastity, obedience and service to my new masters.

As I unpacked I could start to hear them fucking; this room was far enough away that I knew they must be really going at it hard and loud for me to hear it from here. I tried to pay enough attention to enjoy the sound, while simultaneously focusing on the task at hand. I was going to have to get good at that.

I took out the few nicknacks I’d brought with me: my favourite planter, for which I’d need to find myself a plant to brighten up the room; a calcite geode and a few of my favourite books which I set on my dresser; and a photo of Winston and I together, which I slid into the frame of my mirror to hold it in place. As I secured the photo I studied it. The two of were smiling; we were happy, and close. It seemed like forever ago. Now on a daily basis I’d see the same kind of photos on my social media feed, but with my face replaced by the face of the man that had ousted me from my role.

After a while the fucking reached a crescendo, and then stopped. By now I was finished unpacking the few belongings I’d brought with me. I wondered whether I should go get them a couple of glasses of water, or whether to leave them alone, but I couldn’t make up my mind.

A minute or so later I was startled by a noise behind me. I jumped, and turned round, to find Callum standing in my doorway. He was naked, his ripped body glistening with the sheen of an energetic fuck-session. I couldn’t help but be drawn to his cock. It was flaccid but still huge, slick with a layer of lube and semen from fucking my husband.

“Up here,” he ordered, seeing me ogle his penis. I flushed red, embarrassed to be caught staring, and looked at his face. At least for a second; I always felt the need to avert his gaze.

“So you’re unpacked then.” It didn’t sound like a question.

I nodded.

Callum looked around the room, and his brow furrowed into a scowl when he saw the photo on my mirror. He walked over to it, pulled it out from the mirror-frame, and dropped it on the floor. “What the hell, man?” he asked angrily. “Don’t go putting up photos of my boyfriend in your bedroom. That’s just fucking weird.”

I couldn’t look him in the eyes, so instead I just looked at the photo on the floor. “Sorry,” I told him. “I didn’t think.”

“Okay. You’re still learning the rules so I’ll cut you some slack.” He changed the subject. “Now you’re here we decided on a new rule: we want clean sheets every time we get into bed. That means as soon as we’re done and we come out, you change the sheets and take the others down to be washed. Got it?”

My dick pulsed in my pants. “Yes sir.”

“You can thank Winston for that one, it was his idea. Nicer for us, plus he knew you’d appreciate it.”

I nodded meekly, although inside I was mentally doing a fist pump; it made me happy to know that Winston still thought about my enjoyment, even if it was only occasionally.

“If you’re not busy on other jobs,” Callum continued, “The ideal would be that when it sounds like we’re close to being done, you should go get us water — iced, with lemon slices in it — and be ready outside the room so we can have a drink when we’re done. And then when we get out of bed you can change the sheets.”

I nodded vigorously, amazed that I was going to get to stand outside the door when previously I’d just have to sneak the odd few minutes. “Yes sir,” I said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smirked a little; he obviously knew what this was doing to me. “Anyway, there’s a bunch of food prep you’ll need to do for dinner tonight. Johannes will be here about five thirty and he’s left you a list of what he needs done before he gets here. But first you’ll need to clean up in here.”

I looked around the room. For a moment I didn’t understand what he meant; I’d been meticulously careful unpacking, and there wasn’t a thing out of place. But I understood as soon as Callum took his meaty cock in his hand, aimed it at my bed and started to release a stream of piss all over my blankets. As I stood there watching he waved his dick around, making sure the piss got everywhere. Then he shook it off, and walked out of the room without another word.

I guess I’d better get used to that, I told myself as I started pulling the wet sheets off the bed.

Once I was done changing the sheets and putting the urine-soaked ones in the wash, I headed to the kitchen to get the grocery list. That took me through the lounge, where I found Winston and Callum hanging out. Callum was lying on a sofa checking his phone, while Winston was facing away from me, mixing a drink at the cocktail bar. He was naked except for a white jockstrap, his long blonde hair tied up behind his head. He was so muscular these days, I was constantly surprised. I was even more surprised to see his tattoo — a tramp stamp, just above the strap of his jock, in the shape of an X. Like on a pirate map. I wondered what it meant, till I remembered that Callum’s last name was Cross. Winston had branded himself as Callum’s property.

I cleared my throat nervously. “I’m going to go get the dinner prepped,” I announced. “Unless there’s anything you need me to do for you before I get started?”

Without looking up from his phone, Callum replied: “You only talk to us if we talk to you first. And you only come into the room if we call you.”

“Sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t realise. Of course. I’ll leave you alone.” I backed quickly out of the room. Neither of them acknowledged me, but Winston looked over at Callum and I’m pretty sure I saw him laugh.

I didn’t see them much for the rest of the night. They had guests for dinner: a couple who were just as hot, handsome, stylish and perfect as Callum and Winston. I could hear them from the kitchen as I cleaned dishes; they seemed to be having a great time; the group seemed relaxed with each other, and heaps of fun. Winston slotted in so naturally, so comfortably into Callum’s circle of friends that it was as like he’d always been there. I felt a pang of jealousy stab at me when I thought about how completely he’d moved on from me and found a home in Callum’s life. But it also made me happy, knowing he was happy.

I came out a few times into the dining room to bring out food and clear the table, but not once did anyone acknowledge my presence or seem to notice I was there. I was literally nothing more than a servant to them.

After dinner they sat around drinking late into the evening. There was nothing left for me to do so I went upstairs and got ready for bed. As I brushed my teeth and washed my face, I planned out the following day: I’d get up, clean up the remnants of their party, bring them coffee, clean their sheets after they got out of bed. Their sweaty, musky, cum-stained sheets. I’d tidy, vacuum, mop, go to the florist to get fresh flowers for around the house. Prep lunch, prep dinner. Have my first session with the personal trainer to look good for my new masters. And somewhere in there, if I was lucky, I’d get to stand outside their bedroom, listening to the sounds of their lovemaking while I waited with glasses of water for when they’d finished. Oh, and, change the sheets again. Thinking about it made my dick start to swell; even though it was a lot to do, and most of it was boring as hell, the idea of being their servant excited me. And the thought of getting to stand outside their door listening to them fuck made it all worthwhile.

As soon as I got into bed I fell asleep easily, exhausted by the adrenaline of my first day as a slave. But I woke up to the sound of car doors, and an engine as a car pulled away from the house. I smiled to myself; the guests were gone, and my husband and his lover would soon be coming up the stairs and heading to bed together. Which meant it wasn’t long before they’d be wrapped in each other’s arms, eyes locked on each other, and Callum would be entering Winston again, giving him yet another fuck that was beyond anything I could ever give him.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before I heard the sound of Winston moaning from the bedroom at the other end of the hall. I felt my dick harden, and I felt that familiar stab of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. But I smiled to myself, there in the darkness of my servant’s quarters. The sound of Winston being fucked — really, thoroughly fucked — was the most beautiful sound in the world. The fact that he was being given that by someone else was my greatest fantasy come true. And the fact that I was here to hear it for myself, knowing that I was going to get to do this every day for the rest of my life, was better than I could ever have imagined.