My Wife Hired Me to Interpret for Her Lover: Cuckold Humiliation, Chastity, and Cleanup Service, A Femdom Cuckold Erotica

She booked the suite, she booked the lover, and she booked you. Your name is on the assignment sheet, under INTERPRETER.

You are the best simultaneous interpreter your firm has. Twenty-one years in the booth, technical arbitrations where one softened verb moves a contract, and you have never once handed a room the wrong language. Clients pay for your ability to disappear behind a speaker's meaning and set it down in another language without leaving a fingerprint on it.

Your wife knows that. It is why she hired you.

You explained the convention to her yourself, five years ago, over breakfast. An interpreter speaks as the original speaker. Not she says she wants him. I want him. You don't get to keep announcing whose sentence it is. That would be clutter.

So when Étienne Laurent arrives at eight and tells your wife in French exactly what he intends to do to her, it is your mouth that says it in English, and it starts with I.

You will stand at a mirror in your work shirt and tie with nothing on below them but the steel she locked on you before breakfast, and say out loud which of the two cocks in the room she is able to use. She will ask the other man's permission — through you, in the first person, in her voice — to put your hand on him, and hold your wrist there until you say he is thicker than your hand closes. Then she will send you to wash them.

You will kneel at the edge of the mattress and hold his foreskin back with two fingers so your wife's mouth has something to work on, and her upper lip will drag across your knuckle on every stroke down. You will be fed his taste off her thumb. Your own fingers will get a towel.

You will open your wife for him with your own hand, describe her condition in the words she chooses rather than yours, and watch her wipe what came off your fingers the length of another man's cock. You will kneel by her face with your own tie wound round her fist and interpret her orgasm in the first person while it is happening to her. You will take her weight on your shoulder while he finishes inside her, with your own recorded voice looped into your working earpiece saying she chose him, and you will interpret over the top of yourself, at conversational volume, without dropping a word.

Then you will be thanked. By name. For the accuracy.

Two things go wrong, and only one of them is yours. With his taste still in your mouth you will hand a whole sentence to the wrong listener in the wrong language, and she will not tell you it's all right. She will say that's one, and she will put it in the transcript label. And later, mid-stroke, she will stop routing anything through you at all and simply answer him in French, wrong tense and perfectly clear, and he will answer her in English, and the pair of them settle it across eighteen inches of mattress while you kneel at the edge with your tie in her fist.

You can do this yourself.

Yes.

Thirteen days locked, and your release is not on tonight's agenda. At the end she saves the transcript, books him for next month, writes your role into the calendar entry in a form you object to and are then made to translate aloud into French for him, and sets the date you're allowed to come three days after the next time he's inside her.

This is a 17,046-word femdom cuckold erotica novella.