Black Marks 4 - Chapter Three

WES

Early Saturday evening when Amelia and I are back from the trip and we’ve unpacked and then had something to eat, I’m sat alone in front of the TV while she has a bath. I’m brooding some more about her bringing up the subject of  Sterling’s contract.

I’m excited of course. But at the same time, really scared. What husband wouldn’t be? If I’m honest, I guess in the excitement and intensity of watching what happened on our last visit to theirs - when he touched her and made her cum - I’d put most of my thoughts about his proposed ‘agreement’ to the back of my mind. The formality of a ‘written’ commitment. Something that in theory, ‘binds’ my wife to another man.

My cock thickens again in my pants.

She’s the one who brought up the subject of his contract again. And the idea has always seemed to excite her. But again, if I’m honest, it has me too.

Surely now though, after what he did to her the last time, she must know that he’s planning to use her for sex too?

My dick is rock hard, even as my stomach churns.

Maybe there’s no need to be so apprehensive. As the draft arrangement said, any activities we agree to will always remain subject to ongoing review and revisions. We’d have regular discussions to make sure Amelia and I were both happy with the way the relationship was going.

I know that part of what scares me is that I deliberately didn’t mention him or Vanessa at all while we were away. And when she didn’t either, I wondered whether the guilt after that last time had gotten to her and that she just never wanted to talk about it again. Or do anything with him again. Or that maybe that last occasion was enough of an ‘exploration of her dark side’ for her. 

I flick at the TV channels some more.

This whole situation would be so difficult to explain to anyone who’d never been in a similar position. Impossible to explain probably. What ‘normal’ person would believe that any husband could even have mixed feelings about a situation like this? Never mind actively want to take things further.

On Prime, I eventually find some new Cop show that looks half decent. I click into the first episode which turns out to be the original pilot and I settle down to watch it.

Amelia appears in a pale pink bathrobe just as I’m about to start the second episode. Her hair is still damp and because of that, looks darker than normal.

“I brought this from your nightstand so we can look through it again,” she has a document in her hands. And I know what those papers are.

“Shall I make us a drink before we look at it?” She asks. Her cheeks are flushed and I don’t know whether it’s embarrassment at what she’s suggested, or the heat of the bathwater.

“OK,” I sit up and my heart thumps against my ribs.

Amelia hands me the papers and I watch the wiggle of her butt in the bathrobe as she goes back toward the kitchen.

‘Lovely and tight’, Sterling called it after he’d slapped it in front of me.

And as much as I’ve fantasized about all this, and as excited as I am on one level, now after she’s given me his proposal again, and this time she seems ready to give the content serious consideration, I feel sick. It’s like I’m getting strapped into the seat of a huge, sheer drop ride at a hellish fairground or Halloween theme park. Staring down into the dark abyss with a fucking hard-on.

She’s deadly serious about it.

My hands tremble as I re-read the first page.

‘Submission Contract’.

The very phrase ripples through my gut and chest. And then under the title: ‘Submissive Partner’ is Amelia’s name. Both individual words of her role send firecrackers of quivering arousal and heart-stopping dread through me.

Even if the sessions with this older couple are no more than games, my wife is prepared to surrender her free will during them to another man. To enter into a ‘partnership’ with an older black man. A man with a clear intention to sexually dominate my wife too.

And there in print is his name too. ‘Sterling Marks’, under the heading of ‘Dominant Partner’.

No one who ever knew me or Amelia would believe we could ever put ourselves in a position like this.

I draw in a deep breath to try to steady myself. 

“Are you OK?” Amelia returns to me with a concerned look on her face. She’s got a glass of wine in one hand and a beer for me in her other. 

I nod my head to dismiss her concerns and she hands me my drink.

Amelia squeezes in alongside me on the sofa with her wine. She’s warm and smells of lavender and vanilla bath oil. She holds her glass in both hands and peers down at the papers on my lap. My gaze though is on her, the lovely long eyelashes and baby blue eyes as she reads. 

 My dick throbs for her but my heart pains too, strangely, for how ‘unspoiled’ she used to be. For how she was before Sterling Marks and his wife moved here as our neighbors.

“We definitely want to keep the safe words, don’t we?” She half-laughs without looking at me.

I swallow hard. “Yeah,” I say with a tight throat.

“I’m still not sure about this ‘Public Display’ part,” Amelia says and now she does look up at me, “Even if it was in front of people who didn’t know us.”

Is she really even considering that?

“You kind of did something like that the last time we were at theirs though, didn’t you?” I say, encouraging her despite my misgivings. I reposition the papers on my lap a little, to keep my erection hidden.

“Hmm,” Amelia murmurs and takes another sip of her wine.

“I guess you’ll never know how much you might enjoy some of the things in here,” I say and tap the papers, conscious even so that I could be self-harming myself and her, “Until you’ve tried things.” For a second, despite the cold beer, my mouth dries up, “I mean who’d have thought you’d enjoy climbing over obstacles for him?” I add and my dick throbs.

“Enjoyable for you watching maybe,” Amelia reddens.

You certainly seemed to enjoy the smacking, and especially the ‘Aftercare’, when he groped your tits and between your legs. And when he touched your clit until you came, Amelia.

She hesitates but then reads further sections out to me - ‘Sensation Play with Punishments’, ‘Roleplay with Consequences’ (which boggles my mind and makes me wonder about the state of Sterling’s), but the whole time my cock oozes pre-cum and my taut stomach curdles.

Until soon, I can’t take any more.

“The trouble is Ames,” I prise her wine glass from her hands, “Hearing all that, and imagining you in the situations...,” I put my drink down too and pull her to me, “It’s given me a hard-on.”

“I can tell,” she says and squeezes me there.

I ease her robe apart enough to expose her pert boobs and pink nipples. I suck on one of them.

“Mmm, that feels nice,” she moans and fondles my hair.

“He must be thinking about you every night now,” I say and suck hard.

“Uhhmm,” she moans and pushes her boob against my face, “You sure you want me to go ahead with this Wes?” My cock is out of my pants now and it’s in her little hand.

“Yes, oh God yes Ames,” I croak but open her robe right up. I roll her onto her back and push her thighs wide apart.

“We won’t regret it, will we Wes?”

“Oh Ames,” I shove my cock into her and she groans.

On Tuesday in the trailer, when Sterling texts me to say what time he’ll be picking me up for the gym, I don’t even bother to argue about who should drive. I just assume that he wants to do it again.

And on the journey to his spa, he barely speaks about his own Valentine’s weekend away with his wife before he steers the subject to Amelia.

“How has your young lady been since our last encounter?”

“Better than she was after the first time,” I answer after a moment or two. But I’m unsure exactly how much to admit to him.

“How so?”

“She seems less confused about everything,” I say and glance at his confident face as he drives. I try to gauge his reaction. “More committed maybe,” I say, and that middle word makes my dick thicken again.

“Perfect,” he says, “I should think that seeing all the details laid out will have helped her.”

I nod my head.

“That young, slender body of hers though,” Sterling shakes his head and looks lost in thought.

“Yeah,” I finally manage to reply. “I’ve always loved her shape.”

When we arrive and hit the gym with its familiar clang of weights filling the air, I settle onto a bench right away and try to focus on my intended workout. Sterling in his tight vest and tapered joggers is again keen to have his say about what I do here though.

“You should add on at least another 10 KGs,” he nods, his tone brooking no argument. He leans in ready to adjust the load for me, his musk thick.

“It’s OK,” I shake my head, “I can do it,” I adjust the weight upwards before he can, even though I’m wary of pushing myself too hard.

He watches me with his hands on his hips for a moment or two before heading away to one of the bike machines across the gym.

I push through as many heavy reps as I can, but each strained movement feels like a further step downward into surrender—not just here in the gym, but in this whole unbalanced relationship.

Later, on another machine, he joins me again, offering small corrections, subtle yet precise and irritating. And I don’t know if my thoughts are an overreaction when he’s only trying to be helpful, or if his words and actions really are all about reinforcing his control.

“Keep your back straighter,” he frowns, and despite my resentment, I comply.

There’s a tension between us that he may not even feel. For me though, it’s a confused, swirling discomfort - harassment almost - mixed with bleak but heated arousal. His authoritative manner grates on my nerves, yet because he’s touched Amelia (and she seems to want more of him), his behavior excites me too.

How do you reconcile these feelings?

“You’re getting stronger,” he says at one point though with a hint of pride in his voice.

Back in the changing rooms after an hour and a half or so and we’re alone there. Sterling begins to strip unashamedly. There’s no time for the sauna or pool tonight but we plan to take showers.

“So you think Amelia will sign our agreement soon?” he asks quietly.

“I think so,” My head buzzes at the question but I turn my back on him and tug my sweat-soaked t-shirt over my head, “We talked about it again last night.”

“Remind her that it’s not just about the rules or restrictions placed on her. It’s more to do with trust and understanding. The shared fantasy. And the visibility she said she wanted. No surprises.”

I think she got a big enough surprise from your fingers the last time.

“Right,” I glance back at him, wondering if there are any hidden motives behind his words. But all I see is a bare-chested, powerfully built man who knows exactly what he wants—and maybe even knows what my Amelia wants before she does.

Another guy wanders in dripping from the poolside and Sterling changes the subject completely. He talks scathingly to me about the government but the potentially ‘welcome’ effects of recent AI developments out of China.

I tune his sermon out as the other guy leaves us alone again. Sterling pulls his trainers off and joggers down his strong thighs, and even with my back to him, this close and when he’s down to just his underpants, I can’t help but imagine again what intense effect his hard black body would have on my Amelia. If she lay impaled underneath it.

And despite his boorishness and arrogance as he continues to talk and digs his shampoo from his holdall then stuffs the bag back into his locker, I feel an awful compulsion to wallow in his blatant physical superiority.

I’m shaking.

I turn back in his direction and let him be in no doubt of my narrow shoulders and pudgy belly.

Sterling stops talking and pulls down his tight, bulging boxers.

I try not to stare at what I know is a thick, circumcised black cock. But it’s so impossibly long too. My heart hammers me. Big shaved balls roll sleepily behind his soft cock. He smiles at me and makes no attempt to hide his giant genitalia.

I want him to know for sure.

I take a deep breath and in one go, shove my own shorts and pants right down. Let him see up close and personal how little there is to compete with what he possesses. Red-faced, I hesitate for a second in the nude before collecting my towel and shampoo for the showers.

“So,” he says with his own towel and shampoo in the same fist, “Do you think Amelia could take this?” He points at his dick with a thick index finger, “When we get her that far?”

“I don’t know,” the phrase sticks in my throat and I have to force my eyes upward again to his face.

“You might also want to prepare yourself for another question that’ll likely occur to you at some point,” he says with a smirk.

“What’s that?”

“Assuming we introduce her to mine, how will that little doll feel about taking yours again?” he grins and eyes my groin.

On the way home afterward through the night, the rhythmic hum of his luxury Lexus SUV engine fills the space between us. He navigates the motor through the winding streets. Those questions he asked about our bodies and Amelia before we showered though, still echo in my head. And the point is, I don’t even know if he meant to humiliate me with them. They were both perfectly valid. And I’ve wondered about them many times myself before.

Alongside me, Sterling’s gaze remains fixed on the road.

Is he contemplating the same thing as me?

“So how are you finding her gradual transformation, Wes?” He eventually asks, “What differences are you seeing in her when the two of you are alone?”

I shrug, my throat suddenly dry. “It’s been an eye-opener,” I say trying to work out how I should describe what I’ve witnessed of my wife under this man’s control, the cloudy cocktail of anxiety, awe, and incredible, sickening excitement I’ve felt.

“You might feel more stirring inside you than the mere desire to see her used,” he says, his voice smooth, and despite the chilling topic, his tone somehow reassuring, “When you’re witnessing such an intimate transformation in the woman you love. It’s not just about her journey—it’s about yours as well.”

His words resonate with a terrible truth that I’ve barely dared acknowledge to myself. There’s an extra undeniable aspect to this whole forbidden dynamic, a pull that’s more than the need to simply observe Amelia.

“I mean, have you considered, that joining Amelia to some extent on the journey into submission might bring you two even closer?”

‘Joining’ her?

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” he shrugs as he drives, “In some ways, the attraction is probably inevitable once you start to see your partner exploring parts of themselves with a dominant presence.”

He isn’t seriously suggesting that I’m subjected to the same things as Amelia?

“I’ve said it to you before,” he smiles, “When you told us all of your initial fantasy, when you talked of buying Amelia’s outfit to present her in to her bull.”

I flush at the memory.

“That would be a submissive act for a husband, Wes. But then again, so is the whole act of handing her over to a Master.”

The suggestion and its implications hang in the air. My mind races with the unsettling unspoken possibilities and a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—embarrassment at the outlandish idea, yet twisted curiosity which only proves how corrupted this whole three - or four way - relationship already is.

“Think about it,” Sterling glances across at me again with a knowing smile, “Accompanying Amelia could allow you to experience what she’s going through in an even deeper way. It could strengthen what you share.”

He can’t mean it.

And I most certainly can’t do it.

But his calm words almost normalize what I know is an extraordinary proposition. And maybe that’s how Amelia was persuaded by him. Each of those evenings after book club when she went back to the Marks’ house with the pair of them.

“I don’t think so Sterling,” I reply finally, and try to smile with what I hope might be mistaken for amusement. And I hope too that my voice doesn’t betray the conflict in me. “What we’re doing already is plenty enough ‘exploration’, I think.”

And more than enough upheaval for any couple. My wife needs a steady hand alongside her if she’s to carry on with this.

“Understood,” Sterling nods, his attitude seemingly supportive rather than pressuring. “It’s about whatever feels right for both of you. And over time that may change. There’s no rush.”

Is he expecting me to change my mind?

We reach our neighborhood with us both silent again but his words linger in my mind, weaving through what feels tangled web of muted desire and shame. I don’t even know where the feelings come from. Or why.

The car rolls to a stop outside our house and I peer over at him.

“I’ll get back to mine now,” he says and glances up the road, “See if I can’t grab a few minutes with my ‘Little Doll’. Have a word or two about our agreement before Vanessa and I send her back home to you.”

Author's Notes

Is Wes right to deny his curiosity about joining Amelia in her journey to submission, and to instead concentrate on supporting his wife?

Should Sterling's suggestion sound alarm bells for the younger couple?

Share your thoughts in the comments section below.

Next week, we're back with 'Lanie Comes Of Age'  where Phil tries to seal the Rachel & Sophie double act deal once and for all.

© 2025 Tinto Selvaggio. All rights reserved.

 All characters portrayed in this ebook are consenting adults eighteen years of age or older. As a work of fiction, any similarities to any situations or persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.