I Tied Up My Cheating Boyfriend and Taught Him to Obey

Bruno was one of those men who think they’re the center of the world because they have a pretty girlfriend and a dick bigger than average. He’d been going out with Daniela for two years: blond hair that seemed to shine under any light, a smile that disarmed you, and a patience he had never known how to appreciate. From the outside, they looked like the perfect couple. On the inside, he had already decided it was too small for him.

The problem, according to his logic, was sex. Daniela came home exhausted from work, chained to long shifts and endless meetings, and many nights the only thing she wanted was sleep. At first he put up with it. But a whole month without touching her seemed to him like a personal injustice, as if her body owed him something.

—Fuck —he muttered to himself one more night after finishing himself off when she didn’t want to start anything—. I need something real.

That same early morning he tried to put his hands on her while she slept. Daniela brushed his hand away without even opening her eyes and turned over. He moved to the other side of the bed, offended, convinced the problem was hers.

He didn’t take long to go looking outside for what he’d decided he was missing at home. That’s how he found Lola: brunette, petite, shameless, with a mouth that promised and a way of looking at you that didn’t ask permission. It only took a couple of messages for them to understand each other. Lola didn’t care that he had a girlfriend, and Bruno cared even less. When he learned that Daniela was leaving for two days on a work trip, he didn’t hesitate: the house was the perfect setting.

***

They turned the music up loud as soon as they came in. Lola undressed with the natural ease of someone who knows exactly the effect she has, and climbed onto the bed in the back bedroom, the one farthest from the door.

—Come on —she said, propping herself up on her elbows and arching her back—. Don’t start acting shy now.

Bruno got behind her. He liked that part, the control, deciding the rhythm. He grabbed her hips with both hands and began to grind against her, feeling how the heat of Lola’s cunt already met him wet, ready, with that impatience women who don’t beat around the bush have. He pulled her panties down just enough, took out his hard cock, and brought it to the entrance of her pussy, pushing in slowly, inch by inch, while she let out a long, obscene moan, the kind that sent blood rushing straight to his head.

Lola arched more, opening her ass toward him, letting herself be filled with the easy surrender of someone who knows exactly what she wants. Bruno started fucking her from behind with thrusts that grew deeper and deeper, sliding his cock in and out with a wet, filthy rhythm, the sound of flesh on flesh mixed with her gasps and the bed thumping against the wall. He loved hearing her tell him he was splitting her open, to fuck her harder, not to stop, and he obeyed with a smug bastard’s smile, gripping her tits when she offered them over her shoulder, pinching her nipples as he made her bounce on him.

The music drowned out everything else. It drowned out, for example, the sound of a key turning in the lock.

Daniela’s flight had been canceled. Tired, annoyed, and without calling ahead so she wouldn’t have to explain herself, she had come home with only one idea in mind: get into bed and forget the day.

She crossed the hallway following the music. At first she thought he’d be alone, watching something, jerking off; it wouldn’t have surprised her, and it wouldn’t have bothered her much after so many complaints. Then she reached the half-open bedroom door and saw them. From behind. Him, her, the unmistakable movement.

First came disbelief. Then a knot in her throat. And finally, when the knot came undone, what remained was a cold anger, clear and clean, almost serene.

Son of a bitch, she thought, without moving a single muscle in her face.

She could have screamed. She could have broken something, left slamming the door behind her. But she kept watching for one more second, and in that second something inside her decided she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a drama. She was going to give him something else.

***

She walked in silently. Lola saw her first and froze, eyes wide. Bruno, too absorbed, took a moment to notice the girl had stopped moving.

—What’s wrong? —he started to say, turning around.

He didn’t finish the sentence. Daniela was already in the room, standing beside the bed, arms crossed and with a calm that was more terrifying than any shout.

—Keep going —she said, looking at Lola—. Not for me.

Lola jumped away and covered herself with the sheet, stammering out frantic apologies. She didn’t know Daniela, but she immediately understood who ran that house, and in an instant decided whose side it was convenient to be on.

—He told me he was single —she blurted out, half truth, half lie, whatever she needed to save her skin—. I swear.

—I believe you —Daniela replied, never taking her eyes off Bruno—. Men like him lie even in their sleep.

Bruno tried to speak, tried to come up with one of his explanations, the ones that had always worked for him. But this time Daniela had no intention of listening to a single word.

—Shut up —she said, and the firmness of her voice really shut him up—. Tonight, for once, you’re the one who’s going to listen.

***

Daniela opened the closet and took out something both of them recognized: the ropes they had used months earlier, one night of games, when there was still trust between them. Now she held them with a different intention.

—Lie down —she ordered.

He hesitated. One part of his body, the most primitive one, was still hard despite everything, and that was the part that chose to obey before his head did. Maybe he thought this would end in an unexpected threesome, one of his fantasies. He was wrong, but curiosity and guilt made him lie down.

Daniela tied his wrists to the bars with firm, tight knots, checking each one. Lola, recovered from the shock and too intrigued to leave, played along and held his ankles. In a matter of minutes Bruno was spread open on the bed, exposed, immobilized, staring at the two women with a mixture of arousal and alarm that grew in equal parts.

—Daniela, come on, we can talk… —he tried.

—I told you I’m the one talking tonight. —She sat on the edge of the mattress, ran a nail over his chest, slowly, down to his navel—. You know what pisses me off most? Not that you fucked someone else. It’s that you did it in my bed, thinking I’m stupid.

She bent over his ear and lowered her voice until it became a whisper.

—Well then. Today you’re going to learn what losing control feels like.

***

What followed was a slow, meticulous lesson. Daniela took charge as if she’d been waiting her whole life for that moment. She started by lowering her face between Bruno’s legs, never taking her eyes off him for a second, and wrapped her lips around his cock, licking the tip slowly, driving him crazy with that cruel slowness. He writhed against the ropes, swallowing hard when she sucked the head, when she took him into her mouth until he was dripping wet, when she pulled away just before he could come.

—Look at you —she said, running him over with her gaze—. So proud of what you’ve got between your legs. And now you’re tied to a bed, begging with your eyes.

She pulled back the skin of his foreskin with an expert motion and went back to sucking him, even slower, making wet noises with her mouth, sucking, wetting him, stroking every vein, every nerve with her tongue until Bruno gave a broken moan and arched his hips, begging for more.

Lola, seated to one side, watched fascinated as the woman who had walked in wrecked transformed before her eyes into something completely different. Daniela looked at her and held out a hand.

—Come here —she said—. I think you and I are going to understand each other much better than he and I ever did.

She kissed her in front of Bruno, slowly, with an intent that left no room for doubt. It was a long kiss, made for him to see, for him to understand once and for all that this no longer had anything to do with him. Lola answered with a sigh and buried her hands in Daniela’s blond hair. Daniela made her lie back and yanked her panties off with a quick tug, with no delicacy at all, then sank two fingers into her wet pussy while kissing her again, making her moan into her mouth.

—Do you like watching? —Daniela asked her boyfriend, without quite separating from Lola’s lips—. Because watching is the only thing you’re going to be able to do.

Bruno pulled at the ropes. They didn’t give. He was hard, humiliated and, to his own shame, more aroused than he had ever been in his life.

***

The two women forgot about him. Or pretended to forget him, which in this case was worse. Daniela laid Lola out on the same mattress where, minutes earlier, she had found her with her boyfriend, and spread her legs with both hands, burying her face between her thighs, licking her cunt with a slow, precise, brutal hunger. Lola writhed with pleasure, fingers sunk into Daniela’s hair, pushing her head against her vulva, moaning every time that tongue hit exactly where her legs trembled most.

Bruno watched, tied up and helpless, a spectacle that no longer belonged to him. He saw the sheen of wetness on Lola’s skin, the sway of hips, Daniela’s mouth moving without pause, and felt his own cock throbbing against the air, useless, desperate for a place in a scene that was no longer his.

Daniela lifted her head for a moment, her mouth shining with saliva and another woman’s cunt, and looked at him with a crooked smile.

—This —she panted— is what doing it right looks like. Take notes, because you won’t get to see it many more times.

Lola came while clutching the sheets, shaking all over, with a long moan that broke in her throat. Daniela didn’t stop; she kept licking her until the brunette’s body relaxed completely, and then climbed on top of her, rubbing cunt to cunt, grinding slowly, seeking her own pleasure with sharp, exact movements, while Bruno watched the two of them soaking each other.

When Daniela finally came, she did it with her jaw clenched and her eyes locked on her defeated boyfriend, feeling how each wave of pleasure erased a little more of the rage with which she had walked through that door. Lola matched her breathing, still sensitive, still open, while the two women rubbed their bodies together, wet thighs, hungry mouths, the room full of a thick smell of sex, sweat, and damp hair.

When they finished, they stayed lying there, catching their breath, ignoring him completely. Bruno, still tied up, stared at the ceiling and understood, too late, everything he had just lost.

***

Daniela dressed unhurriedly. She freed only one wrist and left the other rope within reach so he could untie himself later.

—When you can untie yourself, gather your things and leave —she said, buttoning her blouse in front of the mirror—. I don’t want shouting, I don’t want explanations. Tomorrow you’re gone.

—Daniela… —he began, voice breaking.

—Not another word. —She didn’t even turn around—. You had two years to talk and you chose to do it in silence, behind my back. It’s too late now.

Lola, dressed now too, came over to the bed before leaving. She bent over Bruno’s ear and smiled.

—Thanks for introducing me to your girlfriend —she whispered—. It was the best thing you’ve ever done for me.

And the two of them left the room together, laughing under their breath, leaving him half tied up on the tangled sheets.

***

The weeks passed. Bruno moved into a shared apartment, lied to his friends about the reason for the breakup, and took a long time to feel confident in himself again. Every time he tried to seduce someone, the image of that night came back to his head: him tied up, them laughing, his pride undone between his legs. Something had broken in him that had nothing to do with his body.

Daniela, on the other hand, came out of it more whole than ever. She discovered that control suited her, that she’d carried it inside her all along without knowing it. And she discovered Lola, who turned out to be much more than an improvised revenge. The brunette started staying over, then staying for weekends, and one night, while Daniela had her exhausted and obedient under her hands, she whispered in her ear what the two of them already knew.

—Who’s in charge here? —Daniela asked, in that voice she had first used the night of the ropes.

—You —Lola replied, without a second’s doubt—. Always you.

Daniela smiled against her neck. Sometimes, very occasionally, she thought about Bruno and his famous pride. Not with rage anymore. With a kind of distracted gratitude, like someone remembering the idiot who, without meaning to, opened the exact door she needed to walk through.

Infidelity, after all, always gets paid back. It’s just almost never paid by the person you expect.