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Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 01

By: dweaver999



Chapter One

Inhibitions

George Hopkins knew something was up as soon as he opened the door to step into the house. He could smell the faint aroma of incense, cinnamon if he was not mistaken. Charlene had something planned, something he was sure he would enjoy. He set his briefcase down next to the door and hung his jacket up before crossing the threshold of the entrance to the house into the living room. Charlene was there, utterly beautiful in her dress. It was maroon, highlighting her olive skin, the gentle cleavage showing just enough breast to hint at things to come. Her black hair cascaded down her back, reaching below her shoulders. The two inch black heels lifted her up, thrusting her chest forward just enough to draw attention to her charms.

He gave a wolf whistle. "Honey, you look fabulous. Did I forget a special occasion, or are you just being the woman I fell in love with?"

"I'm hoping it will be both, but mainly, I love you and wanted a romantic night with wild passionate sex afterwards, if you don't have anything better to do."

"If I had anything else, it just got cancelled," he replied, walking forward and embracing her warmly. "It's your evening, where do we start?"

"I made chicken a la king, with brussel sprouts and potatoes. Then maybe a hot movie followed by a thing or two that might come to our minds. Does that work for you?"

"With you, a can of generic chili would be romantic. I love what you've done. Let's eat."

During dinner, they talked about their days, catching up on the twelve hours they had been separated since he had left the house. The presence of candles and the romantic mood did not stop that ritual from occurring. Both George and Charlene believed that this time of sharing was one of the most important things they did each day. After seven years of listening to the other share their day, each weekday, they had truly become interested in what was being shared.

George spent his days working as a contractor. He owned his own firm and had, at any one time, half a dozen projects going on, requiring him to travel all over the city, checking on progress and putting out the minor fires that threatened construction projects on a routine basis. When he wasn't on a job site, he was in his office, doing the leg work to get the next job that would pay the bills for the months in the future. If his father had not taught him to leave work at work, he could easily have become a stereotypical workaholic.

To say that Charlene did not work would be highly inaccurate. It's true that she did not work for a paycheck, but she was not a 'sit at home and watch the soaps' kind of woman (though Young and the Restless got recorded when she had to be out). She volunteered at the crisis pregnancy center run by her church three days a week and was available at the local elementary school to help teachers with student reading. George loved the days when she was at the school. Listening to her enthusiasm as she described the children's reading skills improving was almost breathtaking.

The movie Charlene had picked out was hot. Like most adult movies it was short on plot and long on sex. In this case, the actors were all at least capable of acting, making those strings of plot that connected the sex bearable. They also had everything they needed to make the sex scenes great. George felt particularly lucky that Charlene enjoyed pornos. This one started with an incredible oral scene, with the stacked blond actress lavishing near adoration on the cock that her mouth was loving. The director had done the entire blowjob in a single take with no camera switches. What made this incredible was that the scene lasted a good 15 minutes, with the man's orgasm delayed at least three times by her well practiced technique. When he did cum, she took an incredible amount in her mouth, while still more spattered her face and tits. In a scene he found just fucking hot, she turned to the camera and opened her mouth, letting the camera zoom in as she actually swallowed open mouthed for the audience to see.

While watching, becoming hard, George could feel Charlene looking on, breathing shallow and fast. He realized what the special occasion was, or at least what she hoped to make it. He hugged her tight, running his hand down her far side, tickling the spot just above her hip that she liked so much, whispering, "I love you, no matter what."

She answered, trembling, "I really want to. I think I'm ready."

"No rush, no pressure. If you can, you can. If not, then that's okay too."

She reached over and felt him through his pants. He was hard, throbbing slightly. Her breath caught in her throat, her stomach churning, a feeling that had nothing to do with dinner. She slid off the couch and knelt before him. She rubbed her hands along his legs, moving closer to his erection with each stroke. Her eyes were brimming with tears as the reaction she was used to, and hated began. She closed her eyes, breathing deep, trying to calm herself.

George could see her struggling and was tempted to stop her and let her know how much this wasn't necessary. He knew, however, that it was for her. They had talked about it for years, off and on, and Charlene wanted desperately to give him this. A part of her felt incomplete each time she failed. For her, he would let her try as often as she wanted. It tore him up inside, however, to see her fail and what the failure did to her.

With her eyes still closed, she undid the belt and button of his pants, pulling them down around his feet. She felt her way back up, revisiting the caresses on his legs, this time without pants. This part she had down. His cock was more than erect, hard as a rock and dripping precum from the tip. His own breath was coming faster as the excitement between his legs grew. The tightening of his penis seemed to draw all the nerves of his body down to it, making every touch on his body like little bursts of pleasure that resulted in a twitch in his cock.

Charlene's hands reached him, thrilling her with the feel of him. One hand cupped his balls while the other one made feather light strokes along the shaft. A drop of precum dripped onto her thumb and she brought it up to her mouth, licking it off. The taste, while not anything to write home about, was not unpleasant. Taste had never been her problem. She could hear her husband groaning with pleasure. She bent forward, the big moment approaching. Guiding her unseeing head (eyes still squeezed shut) with her hands, she opened her mouth and, sticking her tongue out, licked the head of George's cock.

Her stomach clenched and her mind reeled. She groaned, her breath became frantic and panic rose up in her, threatening to tear her apart. Forcing herself, she licked at it again, feeling him jerk in happiness. But it was too much. Crying, "Oh God!" she let go, running into the bathroom. Her sobs could be heard through the closed door.

"Oh, Charlene, I'm so sorry," George whispered to himself. He stood, putting his pants back on and walked to join the love of his life in her heartbreak. He pushed the door open and walked over to her. He lifted her up and embraced her, resting Charlene's head on his shoulder. "It's okay honey. You just weren't ready tonight. I love you so much. It's so wonderful you keep trying."

Through her tears she expressed her frustration with herself, her fears. "I don't understand why it's so hard. It's such a simple thing and I can't do it. I feel like I'm smothering as soon as any part of my mouth touches it. What is wrong with me? Sometimes I wish you'd just make me do it, force yourself into my mouth. Then it would be done and maybe I could..."

"Charlene, I could never force you to do anything against your will. It would be like raping you. I love you too much to even consider such a thing. There's no rush, we have the rest of our lives to work this out. And if it never happens, I still love you and want to be with you of the rest of my life."

"I know. It's not you. You've been so good about this. Ever since the first time you asked and I couldn't, you never asked again. That means so much to me. I just want to give you all of me, just like you give me all of you. I'll find a way, I promise."

"That's good enough for me. I'll do anything I need to make it easier. You know, we could see about visiting a sex therapist."

"I am not going to tell a complete stranger that I can't give head because I panic every time I try." She noticed that he was still erect, very erect. Her own desires had vanished in the panic. "Come on, I don't feel anything anymore, but I want to help you with that little, or not so little problem there." She felt his cock through his pants again, playfully squeezing it.

"Careful. You might make a mess in there."

"Oh, I intend to make a mess, just not there."

She dragged him back to the couch, pushing him gently back to the seat. Then she started dancing, swaying her hips and pouting her lips at him. Her shoes were the first to go, casually flipped to the side. Her eyes closed, she swayed and turned, signing, "I love you," with her entire body in a language only they understood. An arm slipped out of its strap, letting the side of the dress fall, partially exposing one breast. The faint scar from her lumpectomy was just visible through the sheer red fabric. The second arm extracted itself, letting the dress begin its slow decent. It fit snuggly enough that the dance was actually needed to coax it off of her body without the use of hands. As it fell free to land at her feet, her panties were exposed at last, a matching red with a darker circle of fabric from the long gone arousal she had felt.

Charlene stepped free of the dress on the floor and knelt between his legs again. George's pants were removed again, this time all the way, along with his briefs. The movie, still playing in the background, showed one woman licking the cock of a man as it slid into another woman's pussy. Neither one noticed it on a conscious level, though the moans of pleasure coming from the TV were adding to their own excitement. Charlene grasped the cock before her, fondling it like it was the most valuable thing on the planet. She played with the precum, using it to slick him up as her hands caressed it.

George was able to relax, letting the intense feelings wash over him, knowing that Charlene was not going to try again tonight, not going to prod herself into a panic. Once again, his whole body seemed to collapse into his cock, adding their sensations to what was happening in his penis. He groaned as the waves of feeling washed over him. He could feel her sides rubbing against his legs, creating little sparks of pleasure that tingled all over, making the slick hands rubbing against his cock all the more intense. 

As George cried out, "Oh God! Don't stop!" Charlene aimed the primed weapon directly at her face. Her hands sped up, sending her lover over the top, his cock throbbing and pulsing, streams of cum erupting to land on her face and neck. Some dripped onto her breasts, soaking into her bra. His head had flown back and he had grunted several times as the feeling of pouring all of him out swept over him. As she milked the last of the cum from him, he took several deep breaths, his head still back.

"Dear, this is for you," she whispered.

As he looked up, she licked at her hand, lapping up the cum that had collected there, a sultry smile on her face. While it tasted somewhat unpleasant, sort of like pudding with no flavor or sugar, she made like she was savoring the taste and aroma, doing it for him, the man she loved. This was one reason she could not understand her reaction to trying to perform fellatio. She had no problem taking semen into her mouth. It didn't taste good, but it didn't bother her much.

She consumed every drop he had left on her, scooping it in her fingers and sucking them like a spoon of ice cream. Part way through, he reached out and used his own finger to gather some and offered it to her. She sucked his finger clean, making, "mmmm," noises with each gob he fed to her. When she had eaten every drop, she stood, pulling him up with her and kissed him. His mouth opened willingly as her tongue requested entrance, sharing the taste that she had been willing to experience.

"Charlene, you are so sensuous and sexy. I'm one lucky man."

"I want to lie in bed, have you hold me."

They left the tape running, to rewind automatically when it finished, and went to bed, he holding her body in his arms, a protective circle against all who would seek to harm her.

They woke up to the alarm the next morning, Wednesday. Their morning routine consisted of numerous kisses stolen against the rush of getting to work, for George, and to whatever duties called Charlene. This morning, the crisis clinic was on her schedule. He warned her that he would be an hour or more later than usual to inspect a lighting issue at one of the jobs.

Charlene's duties at the crisis pregnancy clinic were primarily receptionist. There was usually a young girl that would come in asking about resources for a 'friend' that might be in trouble. She would pretend that everyone believed the story that everyone knew was a cover and explain what resources were offered for those who found themselves pregnant and unable or unwilling to be mothers. Today was no exception. A girl, looking no older than 15, came in, looking nervous.

"Hi."

"Hello. Welcome to the clinic. How can I help you?"

"I have a friend, she's late."

"I see. Is she afraid she might be pregnant?"

"Yes. She... she's afraid to... she wants to know, but... she's afraid to get a kit."

"That's understandable. It's not like those ones in the stores are very discreet. We offer testing services here, both home tests and complete medical ones for free. Did you want to pick one up for her?"

"They're free?"

"Oh yes. Your friend has a lot to worry about without the extra worry of how to pay for something." Charlene reached into the drawer and pulled out one of the kits. "This one is just like the ones you can get in the store, it's just not brightly labeled. You can have this, and your friend can find out for sure. If she wants to be absolutely sure, she can come here and we'll test her on site. No names needed."

The girl had tears in her eyes. "What ... what if it's... what if she is?"

"If she is pregnant, that's a wonderful thing. She's bringing a new life into the world, a tremendous responsibility. We can provide complete support for her during her pregnancy and beyond. Full prenatal care, birth and parenting training, and support with raising her child once it's born."

"What if... what if she doesn't want it?"

"We can also provide help in placing the child for adoption. The adoptive parents can be involved from the beginning if she wishes, or it can be a totally blind adoption."

"You don't... you won't do abortions?"

"No. We don't want to burden your friend with the guilt that inevitably comes from the knowledge that they've taken the most innocent of lives."

The girl's tears were running freely and she bolted from the clinic, test in hand. Charlene said a silent prayer that God would provide comfort for the terrified teen, and guidance in making the right decision.

"You handled that very well, as usual." The clinic supervisor, Betty Stimpson, was behind her. "God willing, we'll see that one again. You up for lunch?"

"Famished. Carl's?"

"Sounds like a plan." She called out to the back, "Shirley, Charlene and I are going to lunch. You've got the desk."

The two women walked the four blocks to the Cajun eatery famous for it's jambalaya. Betty and Charlene had been friends for longer than either had been married. They shared just about everything on their regular lunches. Today, Betty could see that something was bothering Charlene.

"What's the problem, Char."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Only to someone who knows you as well as I do. It's not the girl, that I can tell. What gives?"

They had talked about this subject before, with Betty trying to reassure Charlene that she didn't have to. "I tried to perform fellatio on George again last night."

"Another panic attack?"

"Yes. Damn, Betty, it's so frustrating. I've been trying for seven years, ever since he asked on our honeymoon. He never pressures me and I just can't do it. Sometimes I wish he would force me, make me do it even though I don't want to. George is such a doll, though. He would never consider forcing me against my will."

A thought had occurred to Betty. "You know, Char, if you ask him to make you, it would not really be against your will, would it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you ask George to force you to go down on him, he would be doing what you want him to do, and he would force you to do what you want to be able to do. That would not really be against your will, it would be what you want."

"I kind of see what you're saying. I'm not sure he would buy it though."

"What's the worst that can happen? He'll not buy it and you'll be the same place you are now. If he does, and he makes you blow him, well you'll have done it. It may not be fun, but has what you've been doing been fun?"

"No, it hasn't." She paused. "I'll have to think about it."

They finished lunch and went back to the clinic. The rest of her day went pretty routine with no return of the young lady. Other than a few calls about the services they offered, the front desk was slow. Over the course of the day, she thought about Betty's suggestion. Charlene could not seem to come down on one side or the other of it. She tried to imagine how she would feel and react if George tried to force her to perform oral sex on him. 

Her biggest problem was imagining him doing it at all. Her husband was one of the most considerate people she knew. That he could be that forceful seemed so out of character. Yet, she knew that he could not run his own company without having the force of will to expect and compel obedience from his employees. She also remembered the IRS incident from four years ago. They had attempted to impose a penalties and interest because of a bookkeeping error on their part. He had been down right nasty in dealing with them. Most people she knew were so cowed by the IRS that they would have rolled over and paid the fines. George stood his ground and even threatened a countersuit. In the end, he had prevailed and the fees were totally reversed.

So it wasn't a case of not being able to imagine George forceful, it was imagining him forceful with her. This idea would only work if he would not take no for an answer, literally make her do the deed. She had not resolved the dilemma by the end of the night, leaving the idea unspoken between them.

The next day, she had no place to be and spent the entire day at home. The household chores were done in short order, the result of the two of them refusing to let them pile up for any length of time. She decided to watch one of her favorite movies, "The Return of the Jedi." An idea percolated in her mind during the movie. Even if it didn't accomplish the goal of getting George to force her into oral sex, it might still be fun. She stopped the movie short and went about preparing for a most unusual evening.

George arrived at the house shortly before 6 that night. He thought it unusual that the house was almost all dark. There seemed to be a line of candles leading from the door into the house. He smiled, thinking that Charlene had prepared something romantic for him again. He just hoped that she was not going to try the oral sex thing so soon after the last failure. He hung up his coat, setting his case on the floor and followed the candles.

The trail led to the bedroom door, which was closed with an envelope taped to it. On the envelope was just his name. Opening it, he took out a letter and read it by the light of a candle.


Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 01



"Dearest George, In this room is your new slave girl, Cherry. She is yours for the rest of the night, until we wake for the morning. She will do ANYTHING you demand of her, and she expects to be punished with spanking if she fails to follow your orders instantly or imperfectly. Please use her for your pleasure in any way you wish, including anything I, your wife, am unable or unwilling to do for you. Let me know how well she serves you in the morning."

George stared at the letter for five minutes, coming to grips with what she had written. "What is Charlene up to? Is this about the oral sex? Does she really want me to spank her? What brought all this on? This is really frightening."

He opened the door. Charlene knelt in the middle of the floor, wearing only a sheer bra and panties. She was in a circle of candles, the only light in the room. her eyes were closed and she was breathing deeply. The side of the circle facing the door was free of candles, giving him access to her. He could see light reflecting off of moisture between her legs, which were spread wide at the knees. He walked up to her, hearing her breath catch, seeing a tear run down her cheek. He crouched down before her.

"Charlene, we need to talk."

She gulped, but said nothing.

"Charlene, talk to my. Why?"

Another tear rolled down the other cheek. "Sir, Charlene is not here. I hope that I, Cherry, can please you in some way."

He thought to himself, "She has really gotten into this. She is determined to be my little slave girl tonight." Out loud, he said, "Cherry. I must speak to Charlene. If you cannot get her, I shall be disappointed."

He voice caught as she spoke. "Please George, don't reject this."

"Charlene, you don't have to do this."

"No, I do. Not for you, I know you would never ask this. But I need to for me. I can't make myself. But you can."

"I can't force you against your will, it would be rape."

"Not against my will, but with my will. George, I want to do this for you, the oral. But I can't make myself. Please, honey, make me do what I want to do." Her tears were flowing freely, Charlene on the verge of losing control.

"Even the spanking?"

"Even that."

"What if you change your mind in an hour?"

"I won't. I can't. Cherry is yours until morning, no matter what she wants."

George sighed. He was beginning to see just how important this was to her. She had sacrificed a lot because she loved him. Now she was giving up her freedom of choice, in a round about way. He could do no less for her. She said she needed to be his slave tonight, to be forced into doing what she desired to do, but dreaded for some reason. He would give her this.

"Okay. But you make sure Cherry understands that, as a slave, I expect her to be better in bed than a free woman, or she will feel my hand against her ass, and not in a pleasant way."

Charlene took a deep breath, her eyes clearing and responded, "Sir, I understand. I am but a slave and am expected to be perfectly pleasing in all things. What do you wish of me?"

"Cherry, you are horribly overdressed. I expect my slaves to wear nothing that I have not given them. Strip!"

"Yes Sir." Charlene removed her bra and panties, kneeling again totally naked before her husband/master. Her pussy was glistening, damp with her natural lubricant.

"Cherry, I wish to eat. Fix dinner. I'll be in the living room. If the meal is not perfect, you will be spanked. Oh, and Cherry, I am Master, not sir."

Charlene gulped and said, "Yes Master." She got up and trotted off to the kitchen

George followed, watching the lightness of her step, recognizing that she was curiously happy at being naked and ordered around. "I think she has over estimated how easy it will be for her to accept fellatio pretending to be a slave. Unless she really gets into the roleplay she's doing, she will still panic and be unable to do it. I need to give her the motivation, help her to feel like a slave a little. Damn! I need to make her feel small, less than what she is, so she can rise up to be more? This is really confusing. I had better skip the beer tonight. I'm going to need a clear head to pull this off and not hurt her." His thoughts ran on, worried. He loved her deeply and had the suspicion that he was treading on thin ice. Just the wrong thing to night and they could be picking up the pieces for years.

Charlene was in the kitchen, preparing the dinner she had planned. She set the broiler heating as she got fresh vegetables out and started cutting up broccoli, cauliflower and carrots for a home made California blend. The potatoes had already been boiling and would be ready to mash in 15 minutes. She heard the TV come on, CSI drifting over the distance between the living room and the kitchen. She hated the program, with its focus on death and the evil that men do to one another. But, she was a slave tonight and would not complain.

"Cherry, bring me a Sunny D!"

She turned from her chopping and poured him a glass of the tropical fruit drink. She walked it out to him and extended the glass to him. He didn't reach out for it, ignoring her.

"Master, your Sunny D."

"Serve me on your knees, Cherry."

Charlene's breath caught in her throat. His voice sounded so...harsh. She knelt before him and extended the glass towards him, having to reach up.

"Much better. Return to dinner."

She did not notice the perspiration on his brow, a sign of the effort it took to treat her coldly for that brief a time. He was not certain he could keep it up. Yet, he was sure she had the harder task, to to play the part of a person allowed no free will.

The oven had heated and she put the steaks in to broil. The marinade they had been in for the last three hours had permeated them with flavor. The veggies were put in a steamer and she poured the potatoes into the colander. They were mashed, interrupted once to turn the steaks. Everything was ready in short order and she returned to the living room, figuring that a slave would not call her Master to the table.

Kneeling again, she told him, "Master, dinner is on the table. Would you like to eat now?"

"Yes, precede me to the dining room." George stood and followed her to the table, where he saw that two places had been set. "Cherry, why are there two places set?"

"Master? One for you and one for me?"

"So you think that a slave eats at the table with her Master?" His voice cracked as he spoke the question with the voice he usually reserved for employees he suspected of stealing from him.

Charlene felt tears fill her eyes. She knew he could be commanding, but had not really understood what it meant to on the receiving end of that command presence. The only thing that kept her from breaking down was the crack in his voice. Knowing that he was struggling in this as well buoyed her heart.

"I'm sorry Master. I was not thinking. I'll clear it right away."

"Make it fast."

She took her place setting into the kitchen, putting it away. She returned to his side, kneeling next to him. She waited for him to command her again.

"Serve my plate and get a pillow from the couch to kneel on."

She served his dinner, giving him generous portions of all three courses, pouring him a glass of milk. Then she went to the living room, took one of the pillows off the couch, returned to his side and knelt next to him. He ate in silence, not even looking down at her. He struggled to keep up his act. Ordering her to kneel while he ate, not sharing their meal, was incredibly hard. It was the first time in years that they had not talked at the table about their day.

Charlene felt tears slide down her cheeks. She was a bundle of confusing emotions. She could not believe that he was making her feel so small and insignificant. Her heart was hurting, searching for some sign that the husband she loved was still there. Her mind knew that it was an act, but her soul was fearful. Yet, she was aroused. She could feel and smell wetness between her legs. Her nipples were erect and she was feeling flushed all over. She felt that familiar emptiness in her center, the one that could only be filled by him. How could she feel small and hot at the same time?

Halfway through his meal, he stopped. He cut a piece of steak, speared it with his fork and held it to Charlene's face. "Eat," he ordered.

Charlene looked up, seeing the meat before her. Without thinking, she whispered, "Thank you, Master," bit the meat off and ate it. This continued for the rest of the meal. George would give her a bite after each of his. He saw her tears and his heart almost broke in pain. He so did not want to do this, yet, he could see that she was aroused as well. even more, he could feel an intense wave of love each time she spoke the words, "Thank you, Master," before she took each bite. Somehow, in spite of the tears, she truly wanted this. He resolved to not stop, giving her what she needed, no matter how much it hurt.

When he had finished, he pushed his plate away. "Cherry, clean off the table, do the dishes and join me in the living room. Kneel beside my chair."

"Yes, Master."

Charlene went through the motions of cleaning up, her mind on other things. She was amazed at what she had felt while being fed on her knees. It was one of the most sensual experiences she had ever had. How was the simple act of being fed by another so strong? For a few minutes, she had felt like something other that Charlene. She had felt...owned somehow. She realized then, that she would have gone without dinner if he had not fed her or ordered her to eat. 

Finished, she went to his side and knelt beside his chair. Pretending to move his hand absentmindedly, he brushed his had against her back and shoulders, gently caressing her. Her feel against his hand was reassuring, pleasing. This was the woman he loved, wanting to please him in yet another way. She felt his hand run across her body and felt, yes, arousal building, but also...protected. She knew that he wanted the best for her. He seemed to understand the need that she had been feeling for years, now, and was willing to do what needed to be done to fulfill that need.

Four two hours, they remained like that, he in his chair, she knelt beside him, his hand caressing her. As the time passed, he became more comfortable with this act of domination, of subjugating the woman he loved. She slid deeper into her role as is subservient woman, desperate to please him in any way she could. At the end of the two hours, his hand left her.

"Cherry, go to the bedroom and wait for me."

"Yes, Master." She practically leapt to her feet and ran to the bedroom. 

He let her wait for ten minutes before he followed her. She was kneeling in the center of the now extinguished candles in the same position she had been at first. George steeled himself for the next step. He knew he needed to convince her that he really would spank her, to give her the incentive to be obedient. The only way to do that was to actually spank her. He had the reasons he needed, he just needed to find the will.

"Cherry, you have disappointed me thrice tonight. You were wearing clothes when you came before me. You attempted to serve me from a standing position. You set yourself a place at the table as if you were my wife. I must punish you."

Charlene's breath drew in quickly. She had not thought he would be willing to spank her. She was afraid, of the pain from his hand, of hurting his heart by making him do this. He was waiting for something, she realized, as he took no action. Then it hit her. He wanted to be reassured that she was okay with this. He needed her okay, one last time.

"I'm sorry Master. It will not happen again. Please punish me for disappointing you. Spank me, Master."

He breathed a breath he had not realized he was holding. She really wanted him to go all the way. Taking a deep breath, he sat down.

"Lay down across my lap, Cherry."

"Yes, Master."

"Cherry, for being clothed, five swats, for standing to serve me, five swats, and for treating yourself as equal to my wife, ten swats. Does that seem fair to you?"

Charlene gulped. "Yes, Master, that is a fair and light punishment." She wanted to let him know that she was ready for more if he wished it.

George steeled himself, raised his hand, felt her steel herself, and brought it down with a firm SLAP!

"Owe!"

SLAP!

"Oh God, it hurts."

SLAP!

"Oh please, it hurts, it hurts."

He kept up a steady pace, one slap each five seconds. Her cries of pain became more and more vocal. Her tears were running freely by the seventh swat. By the twelfth, she was sobbing uncontrollably. Yet not once did she ever beg him to stop. By the fifteenth slap, George was crying himself, his tears dropping onto her back. After the twentieth slap impacted her now red ass, he picked her up, holding her close, letting her cry on his shoulder.

She was trying to say something as she continued to cry. It was the same thing, repeated over and over again. When he finally understood it, he was shocked.

"Thank you, Master for punishing me. Thank you."

It was then he understood just how much she needed this, this forcing. She truly was afraid that she could never climb this mountain on her own. She needed his help, and his understanding and gentleness with her failure had actually prevented her from succeeding. Whatever this deep seated panic was from, it was too strong for her, and she needed his strength, his determination to overcome it. He realized that tonight was as much about his love for her as it was about her love for him. Did he love her enough to force her to do that which she desired to do? He knew now what his answer was.

He set her back down on her knees, seeing the beauty in the tear stained face and red ass. He stood up and, in his sternest command voice, ordered, "Undress me, Cherry, then kneel before me and suck my cock until I cum."

Charlene's breath caught. "Oh God. Please." She started to tremble, fear and panic rising up, threatening to send her screaming from the room.

George lifted her chin so she looked him in then eye. "Are you planning on disappointing me yet again, Cherry?"

Tears began to flow freely. "No Master. I won't disappoint you."

She stood and slowly removed his clothes, each item taken off in a worshipful manner, careful to not rush. Each item was lovingly set aside on a chair. As a new part of his body was uncovered, she kissed a part of it. Last to be removed was his briefs. As they revealed his crotch, she gently kissed the end of his cock, the rock hard cock that sprang forth. A shudder passed through her, the panic trying to force her from the room. But, in her mind, she had no choice. She was a slave and had to obey.

His briefs having joined the rest of his clothes, she knelt before him, staring at the thing that terrified her so much. She was still terrified of taking it into her mouth, yet this time she did not bolt. Softly sobbing, she leaned forward and took the cock into her mouth. The tension between the need to bolt and the need to obey was so tight that she was unaware just how much physical need she was experiencing. George, able to look down on her could see her thighs glistening in the light from the moisture that was covering them. He saw that she was not just wet, her juices were running down her legs in small rivulets. Her breasts pressed against his legs, the nipples harder than at any time in the past.

This awareness faded as his own feelings made themselves known. His cock, which had hardened to painful awareness during the spanking, was sending warning signals out, a flood of sensation that had so long been desired, finally arriving. The warm moist mouth that had engulfed him was driving him to climax like a freight train. Instinctively, he grabbed her head to keep it in place. He could feel her tremble in his hands, while moaning and crying at the same time. She made no move to escape his grasp and, shortly thereafter, shot his load into her mouth with a loud cry. As he did, his hips thrust forward and pushed his cock even farther into her, touching the back of her throat, causing her to gag helplessly at the massive intruder into her breathing passage.

Four pulses of cum emptied out of him, pouring down her throat as she struggled to swallow without breathing and stifle the gagging reflex. He let go as his orgasm faded and she pulled back a little to breath, holding him in her mouth still, while sucking in great gulps of air. Her hands milked the last of his cum into her mouth. As she did, she realized that the panic was fading, having finally been beaten back. She didn't know if it would stay away, but she did know now that Cherry and her Master could beat it back again and again if needed.

He pulled out of her mouth and grasped her under her arms. Lifting, he dropped her on her back onto the bed. Pulling her legs apart, he bent down and put his own face into her crotch, licking at the folds of her pussy. It was then that she realized just how aroused she was. She was trembling in need and it took very little to send her into her own orgasm, he body shaking and screaming as the tidal wave of pent up emotion and arousal was finally unleashed.

As she came down, he lifted her onto her side of the bed, pulled the covers over her and joined her. He wrapped his arms around his slave/wife and kissed her neck and shoulders.

"Master, was I pleasing tonight?"

"Yes, very much so. Charlene will get a good report on you tomorrow."

"Thank you Master."

Exhausted from the physical and emotional effort they had put forth, they fell into a peaceful slumber that was unbroken until the alarm went off at its usual time. Charlene continued to lie in bed as George took his shower. When he came out and started dressing, she smiled up at him, blushing slightly.

"George, thank you so much for last night."

"Did you really enjoy yourself the whole time?"

"Yes, I think I did. The spanking wasn't very fun, but it made everything that followed so, possible. I'm not being very clear, am I?"

"It is five in the morning. I'm going to quit early. We should talk about what happened, how we felt and how we feel now. The blow job was really intense, more than any other I'd had before we met. I would love to experience that again."

"I'll be home. I'd like to give you head more in the future. It certainly made me more aroused than I can remember in recent memory."

George's day at work was routine, for a Friday. He let his project managers take more responsibility for things today and concentrated on finalizing some estimates for new jobs that were coming available in the next few weeks. One he opted against, not wanting to take the heat for the previous contractor's screw ups. From the specs, he could tell that this homeowner was one of those that changed requirements in the middle of the job, a guarantee of dissatisfaction. 

Charlene spent another morning and part of an afternoon at the clinic. Today, no one new came in, just a few of the mothers and mothers to be that they were providing services for. Two of the pregnant girls were worried about what were normal developments in their pregnancies, but had no where else they felt comfortable asking questions of. The third was in for her regularly scheduled prenatal visit and was beaming with the news that her baby was developing normally. Charlene was able to leave at 3 and was waiting for George when he got in a little before four.

They sat on the couch, cuddling and relaxing in each others' arms. Charlene started.

"Honey, I want to thank you again for last night. I did it, I was able to give you oral sex."

"You did catch me by surprise. At first, I wasn't sure about the whole slave game thing. It felt like you were asking me to rape your mouth."

"I know. But, I wanted to do it, I just could not get over that panic that wells up every time I try. It was there last night too. I just felt like I didn't have the option to run away, which is what I wanted to feel."




Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 01



"So you wanted me to make you feel unable to resist, that you had no choices?"

"Yes. I know that you have always respected me and have never made me do anything I did not want to do, and I love that about you, among other things. But with the oral, I both wanted and didn't want to do it. I needed you to make the want to part of me stronger than the didn't want to part."

"So treating you like a lesser person actually helped? It did not feel right at first, but, I don't know, it felt, needed. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, I think I do. I think it really helped too. By the time we went to the bedroom, I was really into being your slave girl. I wanted to please you, very much, more than I have felt before. But, I still was feeling that panic rising, even before you ordered me to suck you. I don't know if I could have, even then, if you hadn't spanked me."

"I have to be honest, the spanking, it was ripping me up inside. I have never hit a woman before, and I felt like I was doing something horribly evil. If you hadn't asked me to, I don't think I would have been able to. Did it really help that much?"

"I think so. It was only after the spanking that I felt totally unable to refuse you. Partly, since you had showed me you could spank me, I didn't want to have it happen again. But, partly, I knew how hard it was for you to do it, and I didn't want to make you have to do it again. Ironically, that spanking was one of the most intense declarations of your love for me that you've ever given me."

"Were you turned on by the entire evening?"

"Oh God, yes! From the moment I saw you pull in and lit the candles to wait for you, I was wet and horny and breathless. It was even stronger at the times when you rebuked me for screwing up. And while 20 spanks was terribly painful, I was dripping by the time you had finished. I don't know just what it was about being spanked that did it, but my need for you just skyrocketed. If I never have to feel that level of pain again, I'll be ecstatic, but I most definitely want to feel that level of arousal again, and would consider it a fair trade, provided you can fuck me next time."

"I've never seen anyone crying their heart out and dripping their juices in actual streams down their legs before. What was that about. I almost stopped you until I realized just how aroused you had been."

"Oh God. I'm so glad you didn't stop me. The tears were partly from the panic. I wanted so badly to run away again, to get it out of my mouth. But they were also joyful. I was doing it, giving you head. I was so happy to finally be able to do it after all these years. I didn't enjoy the physical process. I was constantly feeling like I was going to choke, especially when you pulled me in tight." She held up a hand to forestall his interruption. "But I want to learn to enjoy the physical act itself. I want everything that you want, even the ones I don't enjoy. That's why I sometimes watch CSI with you, even though it sometimes makes me sick with disgust. I love you and I want what you want. I know you feel the same about me. Why else do you listen when I go on about 'The Young and the Restless'?"

"Where do we go from here? What do you want?"

"I'd like Cherry to be a regular, if infrequent, part of our lovemaking. It wasn't just the oral success that made last night so special. I really enjoyed being at your beck and call, being subservient to you. I'd like to feel that some more, explore other ways of being subservient to your wishes. It would give you a chance to explore some of the fantasies you've had that you never talk about. I know you've had some, I think every guy does."

"As long as we explore some of your undisclosed fantasies too. It should be about both of us, not just me."

"Deal. I wonder what's in store for Cherry the next time I give her to you?" 



Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 02



Chapter Two

Fantasies

George and Charlene didn't talk much about when or what the next time would be. Both were struggling in their minds with the idea of sharing fantasies that each believed the other would find repulsive. While the husband and wife had learned to communicate well in their marriage, they had a blind spot when it came to sex. Ever since Charlene had become obsessed with giving George a blowjob as a result of his asking for one of their honeymoon, they had talked very little about their sex lives. This is not to say that their sex life was not good, it was. Both enjoyed sex tremendously. But, George never asked for anything in particular after the first oral sex disaster. Charlene had been focused on success at oral that she had not even thought of other variations.

Truth be told, George and Charlene were very conservative in outlook, both in their public beliefs and their private lives. Their only two adult videos were present only because Charlene had thought that seeing it done would help her overcome her panic attacks. It was shear desperation that had pushed Charlene into becoming George's slave. Now the two were trying to think about subjects that many would seem to find tame, but that they considered to be outlandish acts, bordering on extreme perversion.

A week passed with neither bringing the subject up. They had sex twice during the week, enjoying it as they always had. There seemed to be a missing element, though, that both were aware of, but was not mentioned right away. It was the next Friday evening, returning from a dinner with some friends, that the subject of Cherry and when she would next make an appearance, came up.

"George?" The couple was sitting in the living room, watching "Whose Line is it Anyway?"

"Yes, dear."

"Have you given any though as to what you would like from Cherry the next time I let her out?"

"Kind of. I'm finding it a little difficult. How about you?"

Charlene looked sheepish. "I've actually been avoiding it. All of my fantasies seem so far out. You know, weird and perverted. I'm embarrassed about them."

"That's exactly what I have been feeling. I guess we need to ask ourselves if we really want to do something that radical again."

"I think I do. George, I know this sounds so strange, maybe even crazy, but being your slave girl was one of the most satisfying experiences I have even had. I want to know if that is possible again. It's just so hard to think about my fantasies. They seem so depraved."

"Are they any more depraved than being my slave and spanked for being less than pleasing?"

"When you put it that way, I guess not. It doesn't make it any easier though."

"Would it be easier if you wrote them out on your own before telling me about them?"

"Maybe. You should too. Remember, Cherry is your slave girl. She should fulfill your fantasies."

"You're right. Why don't we spend tomorrow apart and write at least one of our fantasies down and Sunday, we'll read them and talk about which, if any, we want to try out."

"I think that will work. Till Sunday night. Oh, they're going to do a hoe down." The couple turned back to the TV to watch Drew, Collin and the others sing the mailman hoe down.

Once the program was over, the television was turned off and George place his arm around Charlene, holding her close. Her hand dropped onto his leg, resting there, squeezing gently. His hand caressed her shoulder and arm in response. Charlene purred a, "Mmmmm" at his touch and snuggled in closer. George snuck his hand down her side, slipping under the edge of her blouse to reach the skin on her hips, a sensitive spot for Charlene. She jumped a little as tingles of pleasure sparked out from her side. Her hand on that side covered his, not to stop or interfere, but merely to increase the contact between them.

Her other hand slipped around him, reaching under his shirt so she could reach his chest. They traded caresses, slowly working themselves up. George's cock started to harden and he could feel moisture leaking from it. His breathing was becoming more audible as his desire increased. Charlene's breathing was also becoming faster and deeper, matching the depth of the sensations that were flowing through her body. Her nipples had hardened and that ache in her pussy was making itself felt, the one that could only be satisfied by her husband screwing her.

George stood, and, taking Charlene by the hand, led her into the bedroom. Embracing her, he kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring the familiar depths of her mouth. While he did, one hand slipped beneath the waste band of her skirt and slid it over her hips to fall to the floor. Charlene's hands busied themselves with the buttons of his shirt, unlocking the first gate to his chest. They broke off their kiss to increase their access to their clothes, allowing for quicker removal. Once they were naked, the embraced and kissed again.

One of Charlene's hands reached down to fondle George's cock, sliding in the precum that was leaking from the tip and bringing it to full erectness. George slid one of his hands down her back to reach past her ass (which clenched during the hand's brief passage), to tickle the very bottom of her cunt and coat itself in her juices.

He broke off the kiss and lay her down on the bed. Lying beside her, he played with her breasts while kissing her neck. His lips trailed slowly down until they reached her cleavage. There, he lavished attention on her breasts, kissing and licking little circles around the outside that gradually shrunk until he was licking her nipples. Her back arched and she grabbed his head, holding it to her chest, pleading without words for him to not stop. He obliged, taking her entire areola into his mouth and playing his tongue across it.

While his mouth was occupied with one breasts, his hand dipped down to her pussy and coated itself thoroughly with her lubricant, bringing it up to her other breast and sliding across the nipple. His rigid member throbbed against her leg, leaving dollops of precum on her and getting even harder. When his hand found that her clit had peeked out, he extracted himself from her hands and pulled her back up against his chest, one arm under her, fondling her breasts.

His other hand rubber her tummy while he slid his cock between her legs and into her pussy. They both gasped as the pleasure was ratcheted up several notches. Once in, he held her immobile against him and started to slowly push himself in and out of her. Her breath became ragged as she lay their unable to affect her own sensations. The slow steady motion was agonizingly slow, leaving her body at a low boil. Her ache was filled, yet it wasn't enough now. Her body was demanding more, more sensation, more speed, more filling. It could not have it, however. Slowly, incrementally, her arousal grew. Her pussy was getting wetter and wetter while the walls of her vagina tried to tighten on the intruder to capture it, for it to do more. Her nipples, still being caressed by the fingers of one of the hands holding her still, were rock hard and hyper-sensitive. Her clit was fully erect and had poked out from underneath its hood, looking for its own pleasure.

Charlene moaned, a deep, low moan of tension and pleasure. Her upper hand grasped his and inched it towards her pussy where, together, they gave her desperate clit the attention it craved. At the first touch, she cried out, waves of sensation bursting forth from her sex and washing up against the far flung parts of her. Try as she might, she could not make the hand caress her pussy and clit any faster than George's cock was fucking her. Slowly, at a frustratingly glacial pace, she inched closer to her orgasm. Several times, she thought she could climb no higher, only reach levels of arousal that were almost painful. He did this every so often, and each time, she seemed to go beyond the limits she though she had reached before (or had she simply not remembered where they were?).

George's own arousal was climbing as well. He felt like his cock had doubled in size and was about to burst. In this position, lying as he was, he simply could not move much faster and was incapable to racing to his climax. He throbbed with every thrust, feeling minute amounts of fluid seeping into his wife's cunt. Yet, no release was to be had until... Charlene's climax finally hit her. She screamed as her body began to shake and her pussy quivered against his cock. This added sensation was all he needed and with a loud groan, he pulsed into her body several times. He gripped her tighter as both their bodies spasmed in their respective orgasms.

As they came down from their high, he caressed the side of her face and her legs, while kissing the back of her neck and her cheek as her head turned. Her hands returned the caresses to his legs and rested on one of his arms, soaking up the presence. They fell sleep like this, her embraced in his arms.

In the morning, they dealt with the usual household things that needed to be taken care of. By noon, they were ready to start on the fantasy project. They only had one computer to type at, so George went to his office to use the one there. They agreed to write more than a brief description, almost a short story about the fantasy.

After he left, Charlene tried to think of which fantasy or fantasies she wanted to put down on paper, so to speak. It was not as easy a task as she had thought it would be. The biggest obstacle was the reason for writing them down. They were intending to possibly act them out, make them come true. What did she want to experience from the, in her mind, perverted things her imagination thought up?

Unable to decide, she wrote a brief description of each on a slip of paper and put them all in an empty coffee tin. She imagined that she was Cherry and that she had been ordered to write these fantasies out. She drew the first one out and groaned. Why that one? Forcing herself to not put it back, she began to type.

I want to be tied up and rendered unable to react to anything you do to me. I imagine that I am tied to the bed, my arms and legs stretched tightly away from my body. Ropes are tied around my wrists and the ends are tied to the headboard of the bed. My ankles also have a rope tied to them. This rope passes under the bed, around each leg of the bed, so that my feet are stretched and connected. If I move one leg, the other is forced to move with it, making it impossible for me to close myself.

From here, my fantasy goes in several directions at different times. In many of them, you blindfold me so I cannot see what you are going to do. I feel your hands caress me all over my body, but not my pussy or tits. You spend a lot of time doing this, sending me to levels of arousal that make your spoon love making seem unaroused in comparison. In my fantasy, I beg you over and over for release, for touch to my pussy. Sometimes I am so desperate and frustrated that I am sobbing while I am begging.

You always take your own pleasure first, not letting me climax until you have once already. Frequently you take my mouth, forcing yourself into it. It's not so much me giving you a blowjob as you masturbating in my mouth. Usually you cum both in my mouth and on my face. I swallow what I can and the rest is left on my face to dry. The most frightening part of this fantasy is how often it ends with me not being allowed to have an orgasm. You tease me over and over, stopping when I'm about to cum, letting me cool off before the torture starts up again.

I'm a pitiful site, aroused, writhing in misery, unable to cum. It's these versions, when I'm left helpless and in misery, that I cum the hardest when I masturbate. I'm terrified of being left unsatisfied like that, a weeping bundle of unrealized pleasure. I feel like I would do anything to avoid such a fate.

Charlene finished the typing and realized that she was aroused. She could feel the wet stain between her legs and her nipples are incredibly tender in her bra. She feels warm and her pussy is aching. She slides a hand down her pants and diddles with her pussy and clit. The fantasy she has typed has left her so aroused that it is a matter of minutes before she is crying out in an orgasm. Even after her climax, she is still aroused and her pussy is in even more need of being filled. She knows that if this keeps up, she will attack George the moment he comes through the door.

While Charlene was trying to decide which fantasies to put down one paper, George was having similar difficulties, but for different reasons. He had no problem with the idea that they would act out some of the fantasies. His problem was just admitting to Charlene that he had them. For reasons he had never explored before, all of his fantasies were ones that a woman might very well find degrading. He was afraid that he would drive Charlene away with the thought that these were how he saw her for real.

After wrestling with himself for a while, he decided that being honest was more important than protecting his own feelings. He was sure that Charlene had fantasies that she was reluctant to share as well. That seemed to be the nature of fantasy, dreams that you had no intention of sharing. He started to type.

I fantasize about sodomizing you. In the fantasy, we engage in our usual foreplay, caressing each other until both of us are feeling desperate to start intercourse. It's then when I flip you onto your stomach, with your hips at the edge of the bed and your legs dangling towards the floor. I take your hands and hold them behind your back in one of my hands, preventing you from moving away from me. With my other hand, I sop of some of your lubrication and begin to rub it into your anus.

You are whimpering and begging me not to take you there. My fingers return to your pussy again and again, bringing even more juice to your hole. I force one finger, coated with your sexual fluids into your anal opening. It is tight and you are forcing against me. After several probings, you can accommodate one finger, so I start using two fingers together. You are beginning to breath heavily now, and the quantity of lube your are producing is actually getting larger. You still plead for me not to do this, but the cries are weaker, more subdued.

Once you can take two fingers somewhat easily, I take my cock and enter your pussy. Stroking in you for several minutes, I thoroughly coat myself with yet more of your slick fluids. Satisfied I am wet enough, I pull out and press against your anal opening, causing you to start crying. My free hand pries your cheeks apart until I feel my tip against your hole. I begin to press myself into you. You are crying out in pain as my cock forces you open even more than my fingers did.

I enter slowly, as much from need as from a desire to not hurt you. You are struggling against me, but with my hand holding you immobile, there is nothing you can do to get away or stop it. The feelings in my cock are tremendous. Every push you make to expel me actually clenches you around me, squeezing my member. The pressure is much greater than it ever was in your pussy.

After several minutes, I have finally penetrated you fully, my balls resting against you cheeks. I rest there, letting you get used to the presence of such a large object in you. Your clenches are slowly easing up and diminishing in force. When you are no longer trying to push me out, I begin to thrust in and out. The out strokes are easy, since that is what your body wants me to do. Each thrust takes effort to return to where I was, but it is an effort that brings pleasurable feelings to me. You have begun to clench against me again, and the combination of feelings sends me into an orgasm, pumping cum deep inside your bowels.

I stay inside you until going flaccid forces me out. Once out, I let go of your hands and step back. You don't get up, but put your hands underneath you and thrust into your pussy, bringing yourself to an orgasm of your own in a matter of minutes. As your body trembles in climax, cum seeping out of your butt, you seem even more beautiful than normal.

George looked at what he had written. He was hard, the fantasy having aroused him like it always does. He could feel a damp spot on his briefs from where precum had leaked while he was writing. In spite of his excitement, it bothered him still, that he dreamed of treating the woman he loved with such callousness, as if she were a sex toy to get his pleasure from. Yet, he could not deny that these thoughts were incredibly erotic. He only hoped that the woman who thought of becoming his sex slave would also find these erotic. He went on to he second fantasy.

This fantasy starts with my mouth worshiping your breasts. I kiss and lick them until they are covered in saliva and very slick to the touch. Then I get up on top of you, straddling your body. I pin your arms to your side with my knees and place my dick between your breasts, right in the cleavage. My hands press your breasts in, wrapping them around my cock.

I begin to thrust between your breasts, using the tight passage I have created like it was a pussy. While I do that, you tilt your head forward and blow gently on my tip each time it pokes out from between your squashed globes. My thumbs and index fingers pinch your nipples while I hold your cleavage tightly closed, causing you to gasp a little with each pinch.

When I cum, semen covers your face and neck. Some land in your mouth for you to swallow. The last few dribbles empty onto your chest. I release your breasts, but keep your hands pinned to your side. I scoop up the cum that did not land in or near your mouth and feed it too you. You are smiling at me as I do.

Back at the house, Charlene was choosing her second fantasy to write about. Reaching into her coffee tin, she selected the next piece of paper. A frown came on her face as she read it. "Is someone out there trying to tell me something? The two I least want to talk about are the first two I choose." She was on the verge of putting it back when she stopped. "But, this is the one that makes me the hottest when I masturbate to it. Maybe I really want this? I need to be honest with him and myself." She started typing.

It's night time and I'm in the back yard. I have no clothes on and the doors to the house are locked. I don't know how I got there. I can hear people in the nearby yards enjoying themselves. Somehow I know that you're not coming home soon and I'm going to have to wait for several hours. I try to hide, but there is very little to hide in. I end up settling for under the picnic table, crouched on the grass.

Some time passes and I see a light moving in the house. It's not a room light, but something that moves, like a flashlight. Are you home? Is the power out? No, I see power is there for the houses around ours. There's someone moving around our house, in the dark, not turning on the lights. I'm becoming scared. I realize it can't be you. It's a burglar!

I stay hidden, hoping that he will leave the way he came in. He doesn't, though. He comes into the back yard and begins to search through things out here. I know if I move, he'll see me, but he's being very thorough. The light sweeps past me, illuminating me for an instant. Then it sweeps back and stops on me. My hand to my mouth, I stifle a scream. Whoever he is, he is wearing a ski mask. He walks towards me. When I try to back out of under the table, he rushes up and grabs me, pulling me out and putting a hand over my mouth.

"If you make a noise, I'll kill you!" His light is gone and he has a knife in his hand, held close to my throat. I nod fearfully, submitting to his will, resigned to whatever he was intending. He took a cloth from his pocket and stuffed it in my mouth, tying it in place with another cloth. Now it was too late to cry for help. He bent me over the table, my butt pointing towards him, prominently displayed.




Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 02



One hand held me down against the table while the other felt between my legs. In horror, I realized that I was dripping. I moaned at his touch, unable to control myself as jolts of pleasure sparked like static shocks. Hiss hand reached around and rubbed my juice all over my face. I began to cry at the knowledge of how much I seemed to want what was about to happen, ashamed to the core of my being.

I heard a zipper opening. Something hard pressed against my butt cheeks, rubbing against them. There was a trickle of moisture on the end. Then, with no warning, he plunged into my pussy, causing me to gasp. I don't know if he was immense or if I was just so sensitive, but I felt totally full. He began to thrust into me over and over again. Betraying me, my body began to thrust back against him. The hand that wasn't holding me down reach under me and rubbed against my clit. I screamed into the cloth as lightning shot through me over and over again.

I came, my body writhing under him in our back yard as he rammed into me repeatedly. I could hear him grunting and groaning as my pussy quivered about his cock. He didn't stop anything when I orgasmed. My incredibly sensitive clit was being tortured by his hand and I could barely come down from one climax before the next hit me even harder than the one before. I was bucking on the table, as the sheer pain of his touch on my clit and the pleasure of him in my pussy clashed, seeming to hold me in an orgasmic limbo, cumming without end. 

Then he thrust in one last time, holding himself in me, pulling me towards him by my pussy, and spilled his seed into me. I could feel it enter me, hot molten sex in pulse after pulse. With his motion stopping, I was released from my climax, finally able to stop shaking and screaming. As I lie there, he pulled out and zipped up. He brought his hand from my pussy, covered with his cum and mine, wiping it all over my face. I heard him walk away, unable to move, even to turn to see where he had gone. When I could at last think, I saw that the back door had been closed again, probably still locked. I lay down in the grass, cum leaking from my pussy and globs of him and me smeared across my face.

Charlene once again found herself desperate for George to be here, to make love to her and quench the fire she had ignited in herself. She saved what she had written so far and went into the bedroom. Undressing, she lay on the bed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She had never felt this aroused before without touch. Her pussy was sopping and as soon as it was free from her panties, she dripped down her legs. Her aroma was stronger than normal as well. It was almost painful to remove her bra, her nipples were so sensitive.

Her hand reached down to her pussy, barely touching it. It was like fire shot through her. Her back arched and she screamed at the overload of sensation and pleasure. Pressing through the feelings, she stuck two fingers into herself, whimpering at the feelings she was causing. She could not think clearly, didn't want to even think of stopping. Her other hand rubbed her nipples, reinforcing the rush cascading through her. She came, her body writhing on the bed. Unbelievably, a second climax started before the first could start to fade.

"Oh, Fuck! God Damn! Fuck me!" 

The unaccustomed profanity was pulled out of her by the intensity of the orgasm. When her thumb connected with her clit, a third orgasm hit her in less than a minute. Her body convulsed so hard that the hand at her breasts pinched a nipple in a spasm and that sent a fourth climax starting. The incredible succession of orgasmic pleasure that she just had experienced was too great and she actually passed out.

When she came to, she swore again. "Fuck! What the hell was that?"

She looked over and saw that ten minutes had passed. The arousal that had left her unable to type anymore had passed, but not entirely. She noticed a large area of dampness under her butt at the same time she noticed the smell of sex in the room. She could feel drying juice on her fingers. Her nipples had relaxed somewhat and the flushed feeling she had not really noticed earlier had faded. Getting up, she saw that she had left a wet spot on the bed of monumental proportions. Now that she was moving, she could feel the drying sweat on her as well.

"I can't believe how powerful that was. I think I had several orgasms at once. Is that even possible? If writing these fantasies down is this erotic, what will acting on them be like?"

Shaking her head, she took a shower to get the soon to be stink off of her. Then she put clean clothes on and changed the bedding (she had soaked through the cover and blanket to the top sheet). She thought there might be the slight aroma of urine as well, something she had not had happen during sex since she was sixteen and had her first orgasm. Once the wash was going, she returned to her computer.

Waking it up, she looked at what she had written so far, reluctant to read it in detail. She did not want to get that turned on again until George had returned. She wrote a couple more of her list, making about half of those she had outlined having been fully described. These turned her on as well, but not as strongly as the first two, especially the second one. That done, she saved her work and went about her normal household stuff. She had dinner ready shortly after George returned home.

George had also written two more fantasies out before returning home. By the time he left his office, he had a hard on that would not quit and was looking forward to an incredible night of sex with Charlene. He was convinced that this fantasy sharing would make for an incredibly intense sex life, if it didn't drive Charlene away from him. He was concerned that each and every fantasy he wrote, hell, every one he could think of, involved treating Charlene like a sex toy instead of a person, let alone the person he loved more than anything in the world.

"Hi honey. Dinner smells good. How long?"

"About ten minutes. How was your writing?"

"I got four down on disk. I'm also incredibly horny. How about some post dinner nooky?"

"I'd love to, being just as in need, but we're hosting the bible study tonight, remember?"

"Oh, crap. No, I had forgotten. We're in Leviticus aren't we?"

"Yes. Chapters eighteen through twenty."

"Uh-oh."

"Yeah. Bill is going to start a rant against sexual sin again. He's going to demand that we start the process of expelling Janet and Betsy from the congregation again. I hope Jim has an answer for him, one that will shut him up for good."

"Can you hold dinner for a few minutes? I want to check on something."

"Sure."

They finished dinner about half an hour before the first of the bible study group showed up. The group of ten had been studying the bible together for two years now and had worked their way through seven books, five old testament and two new testament. Their discussions had gotten pretty heated at times, though no one reached the point of yelling, yet. Bill's attitude towards homosexuals was getting on George and Charlene's nerves, among others. Chapters 18 and 20 were hot button issues for him. As could have been predicted, Bill went for his soapbox.

"This is what I've been trying to get through to Pastor Ben for years now, ever since those two lesbians joined the congregation..." Bill started.

Charlene interrupted him, "Bill, those 'two lesbians' are people and have names. I'd appreciate it if you used them."

The glare that Bill gave Charlene raised George's hackles, but he held his peace for more important issues.

Bill continued, "Right, okay. Janet and Betsy are living in open and blatant sin, sin of the worst sort. It was a sin so bad that it was given the death penalty under levitical law. Paul makes it clear in First Corinthians that such people are to be expelled from the congregation. So why has Ben not taken action?"

Marty attempted to respond. "Bill, that is old testament law. We're not under the law anymore. I certainly don't want to trade Christ's grace for the law. Isn't it more important to show them Christ's love and forgiveness than to condemn them out of hand?"

"Not if they're going to corrupt the church. They've been coming here for over three years and have not changed one bit. They're still the perverts they have always been and they will influence our children if we don't take action to stop it. God knows they aren't saved. Their sins can't possibly be forgiven, they haven't repented."

George stood. "That is enough!" Bill had done exactly what George had hoped he would, judged someone else's salvation. When Bill attempted to continue, George stopped him. "No, Bill, you've crossed a line. And not for the first time. You are not the one to be judge. Romans 2:1 'You therefore have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge the other, you are condemning yourself.' We do NOT have the right or authority to declare that someone is not saved or incapable of being saved. That is God's place. Jesus made it clear in the sermon on the mount that all sin is equal when he equated unexpressed hatred as equal to murder. Are Janet and Betsy living in sin? Yes. So am I. I speed on the way home from work almost every day."

"Speeding isn't a sin," Bill quipped.

"Oh yes it is. Romans 13:1 'Everyone must submit to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established.' It's clear that the laws of the government are as much our responsibility in God's eyes as those in the bible. So, yes, I sin regularly as much, no, probably more than they do, since I speed daily. Bill, everyone, our JOB as Christians is not to condemn, it is to share the saving grace of Jesus Christ. If no church will allow homosexuals into their congregations, who will offer them salvation?"

Bill muttered under his breath, "They don't deserve it."

"No they don't, no one does. That's why it's called grace. Because no one, not them, you or I deserve to have our sins forgiven, but they are. Bill, you need to deal with your hatred, because I can't think of anything else that explains your venom towards Janet and Betsy. It's going to eat you up inside. Myself, I don't want to stand before Him on judgment day and have to explain why this person was lost when my sharing the gospel in love would have made the difference."

Bill had no response to that and the rest of the study continued under more peaceful circumstances. The study broke up around 10. They could tell that the issue was not settled with Bill and a couple of the others. This subject would come up again in the future. George and Charlene just hoped that the two sweet ladies were not driven away.

They went to bed shortly afterwards. The church service was good in the morning. After taking care of some yard work that needed to be done, they were able to sit down to share their fantasies by 3 in the afternoon. Both were nervous, not sure how the other would react to what each had written.

"Do you want to start, or should I?" he asked.

"Here. Read mine. I don't know if I can wait."

He nodded and took her four pages. He read through them silently, giving no visible reaction. His lack of expression while he read them hung on her like a weight. She could not see his cock becoming erect inside his pants. He read through the being tied up fantasy and moved on to the backyard rape fantasy. In his mind, he noted that her first, of being tied up, was very similar to one of his. By the third one, he noticed a trend in her fantasies. They all involved her being subjugated or humiliated in some way. Her third, for example.

In this fantasy, I am kneeling in the bathtub, my hands locked behind me in handcuffs. I am naked and you are standing above me, also naked. You demand that I ask for it, beg for what I want. I'm trembling in fear and humiliation. I don't want to ask for it, I just want it over with. You grab my hair and tilt my head up towards you and spit out your demand. I cry out in pain as you pull on my hair and begin to sob.

"Please do it," I ask.

You respond with a cold voice, "Do what? Say it. I can stand here all day."

"Please... Please pee on me." I sob uncontrollably as my sick desire comes out, admitted to you.

Then, warm liquid hits my chest in a stream and I can smell the acrid odor of urine. It runs down my body. You move the stream around, painting me with yellow water. No part of me is left untouched as you finish by spraying over my face, my mouth and eyes closed tight. My body betrays me and I am repulsed at the fact that my nipples become erect and my pussy begins to drip as you piss on me.

When you are done, you bend down and stick your finger into me pussy, masturbating me. My already aroused pussy needs very little attention before you send me into an orgasm. While I am shuddering with pleasure, I lose control of myself and urinate, my piss flowing past my knees and legs, adding to yours.

When George finished reading all four, he sat silently, taking in what his lovely wife fantasized about. As he sat there, he heard her begin to cry softly. He put his arm around her and asked her, "Honey. Is this what you want to try?"

"I don't... I don't know. They make me hot when I think about them, but I don't know if I want to really have them happen. I know I don't want someone else to take me in the yard, but maybe you pretending to be some stranger. I just don't know. George, am I sick? I seem to only fantasize about being used I the most degrading of ways."

"Charlene, You're not sick. If you are, then I'm right there with you. Feel this." He took her hand and placed it on his crotch, where she could feel his erection. "These turn me on, as much as I don't want to admit it. Here, read mine."

Charlene took his papers and read through them. Her expressions were not so controlled as his. She cringed as she read the sodomizing fantasy and smiled at the tit fuck fantasy. The third one was much like her being tied up fantasy, bringing a sigh of relief that she and her husband were one the same page in at least one case. Her mouth dropped when she got to his fourth fantasy.

You are standing in a doorway, holding a bar above your head. You are naked with your legs spread. I am standing behind you, holding a whip, a cat of nine tails. I ask, "Are you are ready to submit?" and you shake your head. "Too bad," I say. I raise the whip and bring it down on your back. You scream at the pain. I ask again, "Will you submit?"

You respond with defiance, "No. I will never submit."

I whip you again, over and over. Each lash leaves red marks on your back or legs. You are screaming constantly at the pain that is being inflicted on you. My cock is getting hard as I watch you twist to avoid the blows even though you know you have no hope of doing so. Fluid is dripping down your legs as you become aroused by what is happening as well.

I stop again. You're hanging by your arms, your legs having given out on you. I ask again. "Will you submit?" Unable to speak, you nod your head. I drop the whip and hug you from behind. You gasp at the touch against the sensitive welts on your back. You let go of the bar and I half carry you to the bed, lying you on your belly. I undress and lie beside you and we drift off to sleep, knowing that you are mine forever.

Two thoughts were competing in Charlene's mind as she read the whipping fantasy. "How could he want to do this to me?" and "Why aren't I more terrified of this?" She turned to George and saw the look of utter embarrassment and shame on his face.

"Charlene, I'm so sorry. But I wanted to be honest with you. I knew you would be honest with me. I never want to hurt you. That's why it was so hard to spank Cherry. If you want, we'll throw that away and never mention it again."

"Dear, I don't know what I want. This should frighten me, but it doesn't, not that much. I'm even a little drawn to it, maybe. I don't want to be hurt. But the spanking thing, it showed that pain can be a turn on. I might be willing to do this one, if there was some way to give the pain of a whipping without the damage. I think, maybe. I don't know, I just don't know."

"Honey, I'm surprised. I had no idea that you would even consider this. I put it down as much from guilt as anything else. This does get me off. I don't like that it does, but it does. It was supposed to be kind of a confession. Are you sure?"

"No. No I'm not. I don't want to try it out right away. I need to think about it some more. And if I do decide to try it, we still need to be sure that I won't get hurt, not really. Now, the tying up fantasy, we both had that. We could start there, since we both seem turned on by it. Test out whether acting out fantasies has any real attraction. If we can't enjoy one that we both had, then there's not much chance for the others."

"I can see your point. When do you want to plan on it?"

"We need to get some rope to tie with. I can get that tomorrow. Are you going to be late tomorrow night?"

"Not that I know of. I'll see if I can get a book on knots. Maybe an old boy scout handbook."

"Sounds good."

They spent the rest of the day watching TV, trying to put the fantasies out of their minds. Neither was very successful at that. They had opened a Pandora's box that would not be closed. What had started with an attempt to overcome a phobia, was now a full fledged exploration into a world neither knew even existed. Pit falls abounded, some dangerous. With nothing but their love for one another, they were both walking blind into a new world of sexual excitement and potential danger.



Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 03



Chapter Three

Bondage

Monday morning was almost back to the normal routine, except for the under current from knowing what was planned for that night. If all went as planned, Charlene would spend part of the evening tied to the bed, unable to resist what George wanted to do with her. Charlene noticed that George spent the morning routine with a partial hard on. Her own pussy was a little damp from the moment she woke. This had the potential to be a very frustrating day.

George went to work, planning on spending a good portion of the day on various sites, or between them. Charlene headed out for another half day at the clinic. Once she had finished, shortly after 1, she considered where to go to get rope. The only place she knew for certain that sold rope was someplace like Home Depot. She laughed to herself at the thought that she was buying something for sex at possibly the least sensuous or romantic place she could imagine.

When she got to the area that had rope, she was quickly overwhelmed. She had no idea that so many different types of rope existed. There was anything: from bales of twine; to hemp ropes in thicknesses from 1/8 inch to two inches; to plastic ropes; nylons and some from materials she did not recognize. Some she was able to eliminate quickly. She had experienced plastic rope and knew that it was almost impossible to get it to hold a knot decently. Hemp felt so rough that she wanted no part of it next to her skin. Beyond that, she had no clue.

"May I help you find something." A young man in one of those ubiquitous orange and white Home Depot smocks had come up behind her.

"I'm not sure I need some rope, but I'm not sure what kind to get." Her mind was furiously trying to think of something that she could ask about that would not be, "I want my husband to tie me up and we need a rope that is good for that."

As she feared, his next question was, "What were you planning to use the rope for?"

Unable to think of a believable response that wasn't the truth, she gave an uncertain answer. "I'm... It needs to be usable for a variety of purposes. We just need it to be around if something comes up."

The man gave her a look that said, "Her husband sent her here and she has no clue." Out loud, however, he was more discreet. "Well, the best general purpose rope would be hemp. It's strong, holds a knot or tie well, and is spliceable."

"I don't know., it's pretty rough. I can imagine it would be hard on any surface it is used on."

"Well, if you want rope that you can suspend something with and minimize the cutting damage on whatever you're hanging from, I'd suggest the cotton. But, if you expect much swinging to be going on, you should try the nylon instead. It's not as soft, but it won't be cut though as easily. Don't want to be waking up in the middle of the night as a planter comes crashing down on your porch."

She picked up an end of the nylon. It did not feel too harsh against her hand. "Sounds like the nylon is what I'm looking for."

"How much do you want?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe fifty feet?"

"All one length?"

"Yes. We can cut it down if we need to."

"You do want to be careful to seal the ends. Nylon rope has a tendency to fray and unravel if a cut end is left unsealed. The easiest way is to melt the end with a match, though that doesn't always take. You have to be sure to melt the entire end together, or the individual melted strands will unravel from each other. End result is still a frayed or unraveled rope. More effective is epoxy. Dip the end in an epoxy and let it harden. The epoxy will literally glue the ends together and stop any thoughts of fraying. The downside is that you have to wait until the epoxy sets before you can use the cut piece of rope. In a pinch, you can wrap the end tight with a length of electrical tape. As long as there's no tension on the end itself, the tape will keep the nylon intact. In fact, you can wrap the place you want to cut with the electrical tape first and cut through the tape, leaving the ends already protected from fraying."

"How about the cotton? Does it need any special treatment when you cut it?"

"No, cotton rope is woven, not twisted together like others. That causes it to hold together well when cut. Thanks to the stiffening chemicals that cotton rope is soaked in these days, any temporary knot you're planning on is more likely to tighten into a Gordian knot that has to be cut instead of untied. Don't use it anywhere you might need to untie quickly. Untreated cotton rope is hard to find. We don't carry it."

"Why don't you give me fifty feet of nylon rope?"

"What thickness?"

"I have no idea." Actually, she had kind of an idea. She wanted it to be a good size for tying people up, but didn't feel like she could come out and say that. She might be thought of as a pervert, or a criminal!

"Well, thickness determines strength. For example, if you are going to be hanging things that weight less than 100 pounds, quarter inch should be just fine. That's the most common type for boy scouts to get for projects like lashing and such. If you're doing anything around the house that needs more than that, you'd be better off using something other than rope."

"Okay, make it the quarter inch stuff. Where can I find electrical tape?"

"That would be in aisle 23. You want inch wide tape to make sure that you have plenty of coverage on each end of the cut."

Charlene wandered over to the electrical department on aisle 23 to find the tape. On the way, she passed by bins full of various fixtures. Like most people, she had difficulty walking through a hardware store such as Home Depot without browsing through the things she happened to see. Her eyes were drawn to the small trays of eye bolts. They seemed to come in various sizes, from as small as an eighth inch across made out of brass to large ones with three inch loops made out of galvanized steel. All were threaded so that they screwed into a wall and had a gap at the loop's top (near the screw end) that rope or other things could be slipped over.

She knew that her fantasy involved being tied to the bed, spread eagle, but she was also aware, from watching various movies (spy melodramas, pirate movies, adventures) that there were other ways to tie people up. Her mind's eye could see her tied to an eye bolt in the ceiling, barely able to stand on tip toe. Her body reacted to the thought with a flushing and stiffening of her nipples. She suspected that her pussy was getting wet as well. She looked at the labels on the bins, but could not see any indication of how much the various sizes could support.

Looking around, she found a service person and asked, "Excuse me. How much can these things support?"

He walked over with her and started to pick up examples of the sizes and talk about them. "This one can support maybe ten to twenty pounds, quite sufficient for hanging things like small plants or small mobiles. These can hold almost 100 pounds, quite suitable for hanging a wide assortment of tools from. These midsize ones can hold upwards of 250 pounds and would be perfect for hanging, say a porch swing from. These larger ones, they hold weights close to 1000 pounds, but that assumes that the wood they are embedded in can support the weight as well. Just be sure that you place them in studs if they go in a wall or cross beams if you put them in the ceiling. Plaster board can't support weight well and you'll be unable to suspend more than a tenth of their load if they don't go into something designed to take a load."

"Thanks. That helps a lot."

She selected several of the ones between the 100 pound and 250 pound bolts and continued towards the electrical area. The electrical tape was easy to find and from there she headed to the checkout where she paid and returned to her car. Once she was at home, she took the rope and tape into the bedroom and tried to gauge what length pieces to cut the rope into. She was having difficulty because she had no idea how much rope was used in tying knots. Spreading out on the bed, she could tell that there only needed to be about two feet from each hand to the head posts and four feet from the foot posts to her feet. Playing around a bit, she tied an end of rope to one of the posts and then tried to tie around one of her ankles. 

The feel of the rope around her leg and the lack of give when her foot moved against the rope had her excited, drawing in a quick breath. Forcing herself to stay on task, she marked a spot on the rope that was several inches from the end of her ankle tie and then untied the rope and measured it. It came out to almost six feet. Two knots with significant ends (she was worried about not being able to reach an end to untie) took two feet. She decided to make each length six feet long and measured off where her tape was going to go. Once the four cuts were taped, she used a pair of kitchen shears to cut the rope into four six foot sections with a 26 foot section left over. She wasn't sure what they would need to rest for, but didn't want to cut it before they knew.

Once that was done, she went about household chores and fixing dinner to be ready when George came home. While she was doing this, George finally managed to get free from work and drove to a used book store to see if they had something about knots. Used bookstores can be a little tricky to browse in. Some do not have a good system for displaying books, leaving you with the task of looking on each and every shelf for things. Ironically, there are people for whom this is heaven, the people who view hours of idle book browsing as a pleasant way to spend their time. For those in a hurry, that lack of organization was hell.

Books Again was not such a place. It was run by a retired librarian who would have been appalled at the idea of disorganized shelves. The store was divided into sections based on topics or genre with titles organized by author primarily. Although popular series were filed by series title if there were multiple authors (such as Star Wars books). It took only ten minutes to find that all the scouting books had been shelved under non-fiction, 'S' for scouts. There were three copies of the Boy Scout Handbook present. A quick scan of the insides revealed that there was an extensive section on knots in two of the three (the most recent edition had a smaller knot section but had a computer section the others did not).

Having been successful faster than he had anticipated, he stopped by Starbucks on the way home to peruse the section on knots. After getting himself a hazelnut mocha latte, he sat down and looked over the book. There were only a couple of questioning looks at the sight of a grown man reading a Boy Scout Handbook, but he simply ignored them. There were more than a dozen knots illustrated in the book. Many seemed to be specialized knots, intended for some specific purpose, usually camping related. Two caught his attention. A knot called the Bowline supposedly had the property that, if tied properly, it would never jam or slip. The book indicated that this made it a good knot for rescue purposes, since it could safely be tied around someone's body to lift them up from a fall or out of the water. There was another one that was called a Tautline Hitch. It was the scout standard for tent raising since it could be tightened or loosened by hand after being tied, but would not slip under tension. There were several other knots that might have been useful, but he could see these two knots serving all his needs. A small Bowline around her wrists and ankles with the Tautline on the posts of the bed, tightened as needed. The drawings made them look easy to tie, but, as any contractor knew, easy on paper is one thing; easy in practice is another.

Satisfied that he had what he needed, he went back home, arriving a little before dinner. He could smell the pork as soon as he entered the house.

"Hi honey. Dinner smells fantastic. Pork chops?"

"Evening, dear. Pork steak, not chops. With baked potato, corn and apple sauce."

"How long before it's ready?"

"Should be another twenty minutes."

"Is the rope in the bedroom? I want to practice these knots."

He could see Charlene standing still, her breath shallow. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"Ah... Nothing. I just... I'm kind of excited. Thinking about it seems to take my breath away and make me a little frightened at the same time."

"Frightened of what? How can I help?"

"I'm not sure. It's sort of like when I first gave you Cherry. I'm scared and aroused at the same time. But then, I knew what was scaring me, the whole fellatio thing."

"Do you want to put it off or cancel it?"

"No. I'm too worked up about it to cancel. You go and practice. The ropes are in the bedroom. I've cut four shorter ones that should do okay and there's a long piece left over. I'll be fine."

"If you're sure, let me know when dinner is ready."

George went back into the room and saw the ropes lying on the bed. He started with the Tautline, since he could practice on that one with the thing he intended to tie it around. The pattern of make-a-loop, loop-inside-the-loop-twice-and-loop-outside-once was a little tricky at first, but he soon was able to do it without looking at the diagrams in the book (he thought that using a book while he tied them would be less than erotic). The knot did perform as promised. When he pulled on it, it stayed in place, but give it slack and he could move the knot along the main rope with some ease.

The bowline was the easier of the two knots to tie. His difficulty lay in judging the size of the loop that it created (the knot was designed to create a loop that did not slip at the end of a rope). Once tied, it would not change size, no matter how much he tried, without actually untying it. It was certainly a safe knot, though a couple of mis-ties showed that it could jam hard if the knot was incorrectly done. He was still working on how to get the loop the size he wanted when Charlene showed up at the door.

"George. Dinner's ready."

"Okay. I am hungry."

"Have you mastered the entire book of knots?"

"Not even close. But, I've just about perfected the two I'm going to use. You're sure you want to do this tonight?"

"Yes. God, George, I'm horny as all get out! Can you smell it?"

Sniff. "Not over the wonderful smell of dinner. Will I be tying up Charlene or Cherry tonight?"

Charlene thought about it while she served up their plates. "I'm not sure. I'm tempted to give you Cherry tonight. Would you like that?"

"The two of you are the most lovely and sensuous woman I've ever known. I will enjoy which ever of you shows up tonight."

The two finished dinner and cleaned up afterwards. George asked for another half hour to work with his knots, so Charlene watched Jeopardy while he did. In the bedroom he continued to practice making bowline ties. It took another twenty minutes, but he discovered the secret to controlling the size of the loop reliably, leaving the knot loose until he had the loop where he wanted. He still had some doubts, but felt ready to start. He spent the last few minutes of the half hour he had asked for tying his Tautlines to the posts of the bed and setting them at maximum length, with the knot against the post itself.

He returned to the living room just in time to see final jeopardy. The category was 'science fiction' and the answer was "This naval officer of the future was both a baroness in the Star kingdom of Manticore and a steadholder of the planet Grayson." George could tell that both of the players had no idea who they were talking about, and that Charlene had it nailed. Of course, he knew as well. You couldn't live with a David Weber fan and not know 'Who is Honor Harrington?' By the time that all three contestants had given their wrong questions, the winner was the only one to not bet everything, leaving herself with $1.

George turned the TV off and announced, "I'm ready. Who will be my victim?"

He could see excitement smoldering in her eyes as Charlene answered. "I'll go and let Cherry know that she is to serve you with perfect obedience. Shall I let her know that she's to be ready for giving you oral loving?"

"It's not her place to know what is in store for her." George said, getting into the spirit of the game they were starting. "Tell her she has five minutes to be naked and kneeling at the foot of the bed. If she's not, I will have to punish her."

Charlene walked to the bedroom silently, her thoughts racing far faster than her body. The closer she got to the bedroom, the more flushed she felt. Her pussy had been lubricating off and on all day in response to the way she kept returning to what was to happen. In the bedroom, she started to undress, trembling as she did. "I'm really going to do this, let George tie me down and have his way with me. He could take me in the mouth again. He could make me suffer with no climax. God, I'm so hot and so frightened. How can I be both at the same time?"

With all her clothes off, she was just about to kneel when she had a thought. She got a scarf out from the dresser and folded it a couple of times. Then she tied it around her eyes, effectively blindfolding herself. She felt the strangest change come upon her when she took her sight away. She felt helpless and the helplessness was turning her on even more. Her juices were running down her thighs and her nipples were as hard as rocks. Her breathing was deep, as if she was having trouble getting enough oxygen. She could feel tears forming underneath the scarf but wasn't sure just what they were for.

She tried to look inside and figure out what was going on in her head, but it seemed that whatever it was wasn't in her head, it was centered somewhere else. Then it hit her. Her heart was swelling, filling with emotions, an overload of emotions. There was too much there to recognize any single one of them. But what she did know was that this felt so... right, even in all its fear inducing uncertainty. She wasn't sure how ready she was for what was going to happen, but she knew she would not stop it. 

When George came in and saw her there, kneeling on the floor with a blindfold on, his own breath came up short. Charlene had never looked so beautiful before. He wasn't sure just what is was about her, but some sort of inner radiance had transformed her naked, blind, trembling form into a vision of loveliness. This was their fantasy, their desires being acted out, and he was determined to make it the best he could.

George walked to her and ran his hand along the side of her face, eliciting a gasp from her. He could feel the tears that had seeped out from the blindfold. He crouched down and took her chin in his hand. "Cherry. Why are you crying?"

"I don't know Master. I'm a little scared. But there are lots of feelings I don't understand."

"Are you prepared to please me?"

"Yes, Master. I want it so bad. Take me, please."

"Take my hand." He put his hand out, lightly touching her breast. She reached up and he grasped her, pulling her to her feet. He led her to the side of the bed and gently pushed her so she would sit down and lie on the mattress. He prodded her to take the position he wanted her in. Then he tied her left wrist in a bowline loop, taking his time to get it right, covering his uneasiness with the knot by making the tying process a caress of her hand and arm. He was successful. The loop was small enough that it could not fit over her wrist, but large enough to not pinch or constrict her. He repeated the process at each limb, until all four were bound. Then he tightened each rope with the tautlines, stretching her body tight, spread eagle on the bed.

Charlene had the unusual experience (she thought) of the tension and fear reducing as each limb was encircled in rope. She could only describe the sensations inside her as a feeling of safety and security. As the ropes were pulled tight, she actually breathed a sigh of relief at the loss of freedom. Once she was tightly spread, she was breathing normally, considering how aroused she was, and no longer crying. She knew she was ready and was even looking forward to feeling frustration under his hands.




Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 03



George stood back and looked at his wife/slave. Her open and inviting body called to him. He could almost hear it whispering, "Use me. Make me yours. Drive me to the heights." His cock was hard and ready, but he wasn't going to use it right away. He wanted her, like in her fantasy, writhing in need, begging to be taken.

He had to stifle a sudden urge to start tickling her. He wasn't sure where it came from, but it was probably a bad idea. Instead, he started to caress one of her legs, leaning over her without actually touching the bed. The leg twitched at his touch, it having come unexpected, thanks to her blindness. A slight moan escaped her lips, followed by its brothers and sisters as his caresses continued up the leg slowly. He made the caresses just firm enough to not be tickles, but staying very light.

When he reached to top of her thigh, George switched to her other leg and caressed it back down to her foot. He could see her pussy glistening with the juices she was producing, as well as her nipples getting harder, more erect. She was squirming under his ministrations, as if trying to simultaneously increase how much touch she was getting and diminish it. Once back at her feet, he worked his way back up her body, this time caressing both legs at the same time. At the top of her thighs, he 'accidentally' brushed the edge of her pussy, causing her to gasp at the touch and whimper at the immediate removal.

From there, he rubbed her tummy, practically giving her a massage on her belly and lower chest. Every so often, Charlene would tug on the ropes. She wouldn't use enough force to convince anyone that she was trying to get loose; it was almost as if she was reassuring herself that they were still holding. In fact, this was what she was doing. In her mind, the ropes had become almost like a second lover, caressing her themselves with there touch on her wrists and ankles. Even more, the very inability to move herself, caress herself, and respond to the touches George was bestowing on her was its own type of constant caress.

Her body was crying out for more and firmer caresses in more sensitive places. Her mind was reveling in the fact that she could not make that happen. She embraced the desperate feelings and needs that were assaulting her, letting them have their way, along with George. She knew, in the back of her mind, that she would be pleading for release and more touch soon, but wanted to experience that suffering for now. She could feel her tits and nipples tingling in anticipation as George's hands came closer and closer to them. She bit off a groan as he bypassed those globes, flattened by the effects of gravity, continuing beyond to her shoulders and neck.

George's cock was rock hard now, oozing precum in prodigious amounts. As he was preparing to move to her face, he had an idea and rubbed the drops hanging on the end of his penis onto her nipples, causing her to cry out. He just left them sitting there, slowly sliding off to one side of each breast, creating their own little caress counterpoint to his own. Need was rising up like an unquenchable monster in his loins and he knew he would have to satiate it soon. He took a few more minutes to caress her face and brush his hand through her hair.

Then he straddled her chest, leaning forward. When he pulled her head up and placed his cock at her lips, she shuddered and tears began to flow again. Charlene started to shake her head, not wanting, yet wanting, to suck his cock. The panic was rising again, yet she was physically incapable of giving in to the desire to run away. She whimpered, pleading without words to be spared this. George grabbed a handful of her hair, gently, reminding her that she had no choice. He pressed himself harder against her lips, tightening his grip on her hair until her mouth opened and he eased himself inside.

George gasped himself as the warm wetness enveloped him. She was crying around his cock, tears leaking from under the blindfold again. He began to slowly pump her head back and forth.

"Suck me Cherry, or I'll have to punish you," he ordered softly.

Charlene shuddered again at the force of his voice, soft as it was. She worked her tongue around his cock, making little swallowing motions and being rewarded with moans from her husband/Master. In spite of her near panic and tears, she was grateful that he had forced this upon her. The utter subservience to him that this caused was incredibly arousing. She could feel liquid dripping off her pussy lips and the tension in her nipples was almost painful. In a way, the uneasiness in her stomach and the sobs from her throat were welcome.

George, though not consciously, was sensing these very things from Charlene. He knew from a couple of weeks ago, that Charlene would be aroused and in tears at having her mouth fucked and he used that knowledge to keep himself able to continue. As he crept closer to his orgasm, his thrusts into her became more frenzied. He could hear her struggle to keep breathing while his cock started to touch the back of her throat, momentarily blocking her ability to breath. With her tongue and throat actively participating in his stimulation, he could not hold back his climax very long. He made a conscious decision to give Charlene a new level of experience and when he came, he thrust all the way back to her throat and held it.

Charlene had just gotten used to the need to time her breaths when George thrust against the back of her mouth, blocking the throat, and stayed there. Her panic, which had receded a bit, rose up to full strength and she yanked at her bonds, really trying to get loose and somehow breathe. She could feel his cock tense and barely stifled her attempts to take in a breath when he pulsed and sent streams of cum to splatter against the back of her mouth. The feel of the slimy cum oozing down her throat caused her to try to gag, but his cock was lodged in too deep. Five jets of cum poured down her, one after another, as she struggled to contain the revolt in her belly while not able to breathe.

As his climax subsided, he pulled back a little and Charlene swallowed twice and dragged a deep breath into her lungs. As the desperate need to breathe subsided, her panic receded a little and she was able to concentrate on milking his cock with her mouth to extract all the cum she could. As he pulled out of her mouth, her lips pressed tight to get that last little drop of cum from his cock as it left. George got off of her and bent down to kiss her. She responded enthusiastically, her tongue, still with cum residue on it, engaged his in a mutual embrace.

"Are you okay, Cherry?"

Charlene hesitated a minute before answering. "Yes, Master. It was very frightening and I would have run away if I hadn't been bound. It was very intense."

"You did very well. I'm pleased with your performance."

"Thank you Master," she responded, blushing. "We're not done yet, are we?"

"Oh, no. I intend to torture you with desire and need."

Charlene gasped and moaned. "Thank you Master. Master, may I cum?"

"I haven't decided yet. Maybe, maybe not."

Charlene whimpered at the thought of not being allowed an orgasm. She knew that her fantasies were strongest when her mental image of herself was denied an orgasm, but she was not sure she was ready to experience true denial. She hoped and prayed that George would not exercise that option tonight, but the thought that he might was sending her arousal into overdrive. Her body was flushed, covered in sweat created by the heat she was generating internally. Her nipples had not gotten any less tense than they had been when he started his face fuck and her pussy had created a significant damp spot underneath her butt.

George, momentarily satiated, began to kiss her again. This time, he placed kisses on every exposed surface of her face, leaving little trails of wetness from his saliva everywhere he went. Once finished with her face, her licked, kissed and nibbled at her arms, one at a time. At the end of each arm, Charlene's fingers were treated to an individual blowjob as he sucked them in and lavished them with his tongue's attention. By the time he had returned to her torso, Charlene was once again moaning with desire, thrusting her breasts and cunt upwards, as if to entice someone, anyone, to lavish attention on them.

This time, her breasts were not ignored, but were subjected to focused attention by George's mouth. Every square inch of her globes was given a small tongue bath and a gentle love bite that left a small impression, quickly fading, of his teeth. Each nipple was bit into with slowly increasing force until she cried out at the intensity of the painful pleasure. When he finally moved off her breasts, she gave a sob at the loss of sensation. She knew that she would climax at once if he so much as touched her pussy in any way, but he did not. The tongue bath continued with her abdomen. The dual sensations of her belly being warmed by his mouth and her tits cooling as the saliva on them evaporated led her to shiver.

George could smell her scent, strong and musky. He had always enjoyed the way she smelled when highly aroused and breathed it in deeply as he washed her hips with his tongue. He purposely skipped over her pussy, smiling at her cries of, "please, please," and the lewd thrusting of her hips. He could see fluid dripping in copious quantities from her cunt and running down the crack of her ass. Past her pussy, he gave each leg the same level of attention that he had given her arms, the toes receiving their own little fellatios.

With only her pussy untouched now, he got off the bed and admired the writhing form of his bound wife/slave. He thought that he had never seen her as lovely as she was now; aroused and helpless. He knew that this was one fantasy that both of them would love to revisit sometime.

When Charlene felt him get off the bed, leaving her alone, she cried out for more. "Please don't stop. I need more. Please, don't leave me. I need your mouth, you hands, your cock." She pulled against the ropes, trying to generate touch against her body in some small way, but was unsuccessful. When he didn't respond, she began to moan and cry, her frustration reaching undreamed of heights. She had not been able to imagine being this turned on, and thus unable to picture how much the torment would be from being left hanging.

George left her there, writhing in need for five minutes, letting her arousal sink somewhat. Only when she had stopped moving and was softly sobbing did he return to the bed. As his weight returned to the mattress between her legs, Charlene gasped and moaned. When she felt his tongue licking at her inside thighs, she cried out, "Yes, oh God, Yes!" The first contact between his tongue and her pussy lips evoked a scream of pure bliss as a wave of pleasure, much like a ripple through her body, emanated from the point of contact.

When he didn't follow through right away, she wept out, "No, please, more. I need more. Please, don't stop. Lick my cunt, lick my clit. Make me cum please."

George used a finger to brush up and down on her pussy lips. They quivered as she lifted herself to meet them, force more sensation from them. As she thrust up, he pulled away. As she settled down, he returned to caress her folds. Five times he stopped as she lifted against his hand. On the sixth return, he could feel the trembling that keeping herself from moving was causing. He could see her clit, it having poked through its hood, sparkling in the light, wet and erect, begging for touch. He gave it the lightest of brushes and she screamed loudly, bucking.

He stopped.

She cried out. "Oh God, no! Don't stop. Make me cum, please, I need to cum.!"

"I don't know if I want you to cum. Maybe I'll leave you like this; frustrated and in need. It is so beautiful."

"Oh God, please. I'll do anything! Name it, I'll do it. I need to cum. I can't take it anymore. Please, Master, let me cum." She was sobbing uncontrollably. She was no longer acting the part of Cherry. In her mind, she was Cherry, the helpless slave who was totally dependant on her Master for any pleasure she was to receive. George let her cry and plead for several minutes, waiting for her clit to recede just under its hood again. 

He blew gently against her pussy, causing her to gasp at the unusual feeling of her cunt cooling off while producing even more lubrication. One finger touched her again and she started to rise, but caught herself and forced her hips down. The finger rested at the folds of her pussy and then slowly entered her. She moaned at the first penetration of the night, praying it was not the last. The finger slowly, ever so slowly, moved in and out of her cunt. Her muscles there clenched, trying to capture the much to be desired intruder.

He pulled out of her, only to return with three fingers. She inhaled sharply as the feeling of being filled hit her. She rocked her hips, fucking the fingers, relieved when they did not retreat. The intruders resumed their own fucking motion in time with hers and Charlene started to growl, deep in her throat as she marched towards her orgasm. She was frustrated by the slow plodding pace that he set, forcing her to endure even more time under the strain of unmet arousal. But on she went, closer and closer.

As she was finally reaching the edge of orgasm, the fingers pulled out all the way. She wailed at the loss, crushed at the feeling of orgasmic retreat. She began to plead again as she felt his weight shift to get off the bed again. Her pleas were incoherent, her need overriding the ability to think or talk. In the middle of them, his mouth covered hers, silencing her.

"Shhh. You are my slave. You pleasure is mine to give or withhold."

"Master, please. I'm begging you. I need it so bad." She could not hold still as she humped and writhed and pulled at her bonds.

"My decision, not yours."

"Please master,' she sobbed.

"My call. If I wish, you will not cum."

In between sobs, resigned to frustration, she answered as he had been seeking from her, "Yes Master. My orgasms are yours."

He kissed her again. Reaching around, he untied the scarf, releasing her eyes form their bonds, letting her see again. She sobbed openly and unabashedly, convinced that she was not to cum tonight, that her Master was releasing her, bringing her time of service to an end.

"Are you willing to spend the rest of the night with no climax, if that is what I wish?"

"Yes, Master. I'm yours to do with as you will."

"Would you take 50 spanks in exchange for an orgasm?"

She gasped. 50! She could hardly stand the 20 from last time. Yet, to have that oh, so desired climax. "Please, Master, yes I would. Spank me for my orgasms, please."

"Would you sleep with my cock in your mouth for an orgasm?"

"Oh God, Master. Please. I don't know if I could. I would want to, but I don't know if I could make myself do that."

George reached down to her pussy, which was still sopping, and rubbed his hand in her juices. She gasped and moaned at the touch she had resigned herself to not feeling again tonight. He brought it to her mouth, pushing his fingers into her to be licked clean one by one. Charlene moaned as she tasted herself, thinking that she had never liked this before, but somehow, it was different this time. She did not like the taste, but, for some reason, did like the act itself.

George climbed on top of her and with a brief hesitation, slowly entered Charlene's pussy, gasping as he felt the warmth and moisture take his cock in. Charlene gasped, sobbing different tears now, relief at being filled and once again on the road to orgasm. Her cunt spasmed uncontrollably, trying to capture the intruder and never let it go. Each spasm he felt brought a groan from George that challenged his ability to keep a steady and slow pace, as he tried to draw out both of their releases in an effort to maximize what was to come.

With each thrust, George rubbed his pubic hair against Charlene's engorged clit, sending bursts of electrical like energy through her body. The sensations had a painful feel to them, yet she wanted them to continue, as they were propelling her towards her goal. She could not stop crying in pleasure and overloaded sensation and her breath was short and shallow, panting, for lack of a better word. Her climax caught her by surprise, her arousal already having passed the point where she would normally have cum, leaving her unable to tell how close it really was. When it did hit, her body jerked and she screamed louder than at any time earlier in the evening. The bed creaked at the strain, though neither was in a position to hear it.

While she shuddered under the onslaught from her own body, George continued to fuck her; now with abandon and force. Each quiver in her pussy drove him on, eliciting cries of his own. The continued motion against Charlene kept her in orgasm longer than either of them had ever seen before. It was a toss up as to whether she was experiencing multiple orgasms or one really long one. 

Finally, George could hold off no longer and, with one last thrust, came inside her, the spasms in his cock continuing through numerous spurts of cum. When finally spent, he collapsed on top of Charlene.

Lying there, exhausted and satiated, they lightly kissed each other's faces. Each was whispering how much they loved one another. After a few minutes, George rolled off of her and, lying on his side, lightly caressed her belly and sides, helping her finish easing down from the intense high he had sent her on.

Her thoughts once again coherent, Charlene returned to her role as Cherry. "Master, thank you so much for my orgasm."

"You're welcome Cherry. You were very pleasing tonight. Charlene will get a good report of your service tomorrow."

Charlene blushed at the thought of hearing how well she was as a slave. "Thank you Master." She realized that she did not want to stop being George's slave right now. "Master, may I sleep bound tonight?"

"Are you sure? It will be a long time to stay bound and you will be unable to get up for anything before I wake up."

"Yes, master, I'm sure."

"Very well, you are not to wake me for anything before the alarm goes off. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master. Thank you Master."

George got up to turn the lights that were still on off and crawled back in bed, lying next to Charlene, one hand draped over her torso, his head resting on one of her arms. The two fell asleep soon and slept through the night... or at least one of them did.



Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 04



Chapter Four

Fetish

At 2 AM, Charlene woke up in pain. Her legs were cramped, trying to pull themselves closed against the ropes. Moaning in pain, she was unable to do anything but ride it out, letting the cramp torture her until it eased. Through it all, George slept beside her, unknowing. It was only when it had passed that she thought, "Why didn't I wake up George?" After thinking about it for several minutes, she could only conclude, "I was still acting like a slave, unwilling to disobey my Master's orders. That is so weird."

It took her some time to fall back to sleep. The inability to move seemed to increase the restless movements that she normally underwent trying to sleep. She concluded that she would have to be careful about asking to remain tied up for long periods of time, especially when George was asleep. But, by 3 she was asleep again, not waking until the alarm went off.

Their morning was the usual rush to get ready for their respective responsibilities. They had a little time at breakfast to talk about the previous night.

"Honey, last night was so fantastic. I can't believe how powerful everything that happened was," Charlene gushed.

"I felt the same way. I find that I'm becoming quite fond of our little Cherry and the way she makes me feel."

Charlene blushed at hearing herself referred to in the third person. "Being helpless turned out to be such a turn on. And the way you teased me over and over, never letting me know if I was going to be allowed to orgasm. Being so aroused and in tears is still taking some getting used to."

"On my side too. But I think I'm beginning to, not so much understand, I think I was understanding already, but to internalize the truth of how much you enjoy the helplessness and, I guess, callousness that comes to you as a slave."

"I hadn't thought of it that way, but you're right. Callousness. Knowing that I'm there for your pleasure and that mine is a mere afterthought. You know, I woke up at 2 with a horrible cramp and never thought to wake you up. You had told me not to, so I didn't."

"I'm not sure that's a good thing. If you're being hurt, you need to let me know."

"But how? I mean, yes, I could have woken you last night. But, the first time, with the spankings. How could I have let you know that I was hurting instead of just in pain? Does that make sense?"

"I think so. Clearly a spanking hurts, but is not hurtful. But, suppose that I had broken a bone" God forbid! How could you have told me? We'll have to think about that; especially if we plan on trying out some of those other fantasies."

"We should try to think of some way of saying, 'I'm hurt,' rather than, 'it hurts.' Do you have any idea which fantasy you would like to try next? Obviously, acting them out can be really good."

"Not really. Let's take a few days and think about it. I don't want to overload on them too fast."

"Okay, sounds good."

For the next three days, neither one talked about the fantasies that were remaining on their lists. That is not to say that they did not think about them; they did. Each worked through their own thoughts and desires. George's thoughts centered around how much Charlene seemed to take to the degrading aspects of the fantasies. Being a slave. Being helplessly bound. Both those things had actually made her even more erotic and passionate than she normally was. He was brought back to how surprisingly calm she had been when she read the whipping fantasy. He had been sure that it would have turned her off, horrified her. Yet, it didn't. It frightened her a little, but he was sure that was fear of being truly injured, not of the whipping itself. He wanted to give her the best opportunity to explore these recently recognized desires, even if he was uncomfortable with acting out his part of them.

Charlene struggled with the same thing she had been struggling with since they first committed their dreams to paper. How could she want so much that was degrading? She found her thoughts returning over and over again to the urination fantasy and George's sodomy fantasy. Both struck her as simply dirty and sick, yet they turned her on so much. By the end of the three days, she had not made any decision, other than that she wanted to try them all, as much in the hope that they didn't turn her on when they were real.

It was Thursday now, dinner time. George and Charlene had had their usual time of talking about their days, catching up with each other. A nervous silence passed and George broke it, bringing up the subject they had put off this long.

"Have you thought any about the next fantasy you want to explore?"

"Yes, and it's been bothering me a lot. I've been fixating on being degraded. Being peed on and taken anally. It really bothers me that I find those things attractive, arousing."

"It seems like all your fantasies involve some sort of humiliation on your part, whether from being unable to control your own pleasure to being used in some way that is totally dehumanizing. It could be that some of the things that you find arousing in fantasy won't be when you experience them for real. Never forget, no matter how much I play at treating you as a lesser being, you are, in fact, the most important person in my life. We act these out because they are, on some level, important to you."

"I know. It's still wonderful to hear you say that. I may need..., no, probably will need, to hear it again after some of these.... I guess ...'games' is the best thing to call them."

"Exactly! games. Just because Justin and his friends pretend to be wizards and thieves in a different world doesn't mean they are those people. Likewise, just because I pretend one night to treat you like crap, doesn't mean I really feel that way about you."

"That is so comforting. Can we do the urination one next? It's the worst of the ones that it bothers me to have. Get it out of the way?"

"Certainly. Tonight?"

"Not tonight. I need to be safe tonight."

"Safe I can do."

He came around the table and took her hand, leading her into the living room, to the couch. Sitting her next to him, he held her close, one arm tightly around her, forming a protective circle. He could feel tension easing out of her body, a sign that she was truly frightened of where the next fantasy would take them. She curled up next to him, her legs folded up beneath her, with her head nestled in his chest. Her body shook a little as she softly cried. George could tell that she was not sad or upset, but simply overwhelmed with emotion, needing to release what she could not express.

Charlene's tears flowed for almost an hour. When they stopped, she once again knew how deeply she loved the man holding her. More than that, she trusted him with her life. That's why she was able to explore these dark places, because she trusted him to not let her get lost in the darkness, to be her light. He could treat her like crap one night and effortlessly return to the loving, protective man she needed him to be afterwards. 

Her hand strayed down to his pants, feeling his cock resting inside. It stirred at her light touch, shifting position as it hardened, just a little. Her hand continued to caress it through the jeans he was wearing. In her head, she knew what she wanted to do, but wasn't sure she was ready. Silently, she told herself, "This is the man I love, with all my heart. I would do anything for him, even this." Her hands reach together and undid the button on his pants, opening him to her. She caressed him through his briefs, feeling his penis become fully erect. When she felt the dampness of precum on his briefs, she pulled them off of him, letting his rod escape and stand up fully, glistening.

Now that she had total access, she ran her hands up and down his shaft, milking more and more precum out of him, slicking his cock in her grasp. George felt his senses centering on his dick, the rest of his body fading into the haze of arousal. He felt full, in a way. His cock felt like it was getting thicker as each moment passed. There was pressure in his balls as they prepared to empty themselves. He gasped when her hands left him, leaving his cock to cool in the air for a moment.

Charlene tried to bend down her head to him, but couldn't make herself do it. She reached down and brought one of his hands to the back of her head and pressed it against her. Taking the hint, he pressed her down, encountering no resistance. Her head reached his cock and the lips made contact. He felt her tense and shake, but she did not fight or struggle. Instead, she opened her mouth and let his hand push him into her. Inside, she was elated. She had taken him into her mouth without bolting and without being in slave mode. That she had to have him press her down wasn't important. That would come with time. 

Her mouth began its work as she began to bob her head up and down on him. Her tongue made little swirls around his cock while her lips pressed on the sides. She could feel his hand on the back of her head, firm, yet gentle, reassuring her in some way she didn't fully understand. She put her hands behind her back, clasping them so that they would not get loose. She felt him become hot inside her mouth. While he didn't swell any more, he felt like he was. Her ministrations had made him hyper-sensitive, to the point where it was almost painful. With a gasping grunt, his cock clenched and then unloaded. His cum exploded into her mouth. Charlene quickly pulled back until the tip was all that was in her and let her tongue swipe at the jets of cum as they came out, savoring the taste her husband.

"Don't swallow yet," he said, as his orgasm passed. He rolled her onto her back, her head resting on his softening penis. "Open up."

She opened her mouth, revealing the cum pooled in her throat. Her breath, gurgling past the blocked reservoir in her throat, was quite audible. He dipped his finger in the milky white fluid and used it to paint her face. Feeling his cum being applied to her face, she shuddered. She could feel her nipples hardening and her cunt juicing as he acted out one of her fantasies in a way that was different and more erotic. Again and again, his fingers dipped into his fluids, mixed now wioth her saliva, and applied them to her face.

She opened her shirt while he was at it, exposing her chest and belly. Her bra was unclasped and pulled open as well. Recognizing the invitation, George continued the painting project down her body, coating her neck, breasts and belly with the white paint he had filled her with. While a little of the slick fluid went a long way, he had used half of it by the time he had reached the waist of her pants.

"Pull your pants down, let me see your pussy."

Obediently, she scooted her pants and panties down off her hips, revealing a pussy soaked with fluids of their own making. Once exposed, George, using two fingers now, scooped up globs of cum and spit, and massaged them into her pussy and pubic hair. His last stop was her cunt lips themselves. One last glob was extracted and he shoved it into her cunt, plunging his fingers after it. Charlene gasped and swallowed, no longer able to maintain the dam she had been holding in her throat.

The feel of his fingers in her pussy was intense, joined as it was with the taste of him still fresh in her mouth and the feel of him all over her body, cooling and drying. Each thrust into her was like a little explosion that caused her to jump and twist on his lap and the couch.

"Put your hands under you. Keep them there."

She did and soon found herself in near delirium as her ability to physically respond to her ratcheting arousal was inhibited. She moaned and writhed in pleasure as his fingers fucked her slowly and gently. Each inward thrust was held there for a few seconds, while the fingers explored the inside walls of her pussy. She was thrusting against him every time he pulled out, her pussy desperate for more than he was giving her.

"God! George, more... faster... please. I need more. Please."

It was as if her pleas fell on deaf ears. George kept up a slow, steady pace, never letting her arousal climb very fast. Realizing that he would not relent, Charlene gave into the sensations, whimpering and moaning as her body was played like a Stradivarius in the hands of a master violinist. Soon, he had her trembling, her body experiencing waves of sensation careening out from her pussy. As if each thrust into her was a small pebble thrown into a pond. For 15 minutes, he kept her at the edge of orgasm, this after over thirty minutes of getting her there. The sweat covering her kept the cumcoating her damp, its smell adding to the physical sensations that George was inflicting on her.

When his thumb finally made contact with her clit, she screamed inarticulately. She jumped past her orgasm, careening even higher without climaxing, as her clit was caressed mercilessly. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she tried to force her body to cum. It was only when George's fingers inside her pressed up on her clit from underneath, effectively pinching it, that she went over the top, her body locking up for several seconds, then shaking uncontrollably as her cunt felt like it exploded. She tried to scream at she came but found her lungs unable to work properly, limiting her to mere gasps.

To Charlene, it seemed like forever before she came down, even though it was only a minute or so. With her lungs working again, she drew in huge gulps of air into her aching body. George's hand was soaked in fluid from her orgasm. He brought it up and added to what was already smeared on her face. He gazed lovingly upon her, enjoying the look of contented lust that radiated from her face.

"That was so wonderful, George. I was totally not expecting that fantasy. But, I'm so glad you did it."

"I thought you needed something mind blowing after what we've been talking about. Sometime, we should combine this with being tied up. Though I worry a little about you passing out. I think you almost did this time."

"If I do, it will be a glorious passing out. Like the saying goes, what a way to go."

She smiled at the reference and started running her hands through the organic paint that was covering her. He joined her and brought his fingers to her mouth as they became covered in used sex. They relaxed for half an hour like this, enjoying the memories, both mental and physical, of the intense sex they had just had. Once the remains had begun to dry out and harden, they retired to the shower, cleaned themselves and went to sleep.

The next day, Charlene had no obligations and spent the day at home. The household chores occupied all of the morning and part of the afternoon, since they had left all the clean up after dinner undone. This gave her very little chance to dwell on what was coming up that night. The latter part of the afternoon took its toll on her. Once again, she was experiencing the conflicting feelings of abject humiliation and intense arousal. With nothing left to occupy her time, she found her thoughts locked onto the incredibly sick (in her mind) activity that she was intending to subject herself to. She had spaced out fixing dinner completely. By the time George had returned home, she was in tears.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"George, I'm so sick. To want this... thing we're going to do. What's wrong with me?"

"Charlene, we don't have to do this."

"No. I have to know. Does this really turn me on? Am I some sick slut?"

George was beginning to get worried. Charlene was really beating herself up over this. Yet, he could see her nipples were erect under her shirt.

"Dear, you need to stop this. Being aroused at the thought of being pissed on does not make you sick. Our minds are incredibly complex things and we respond to things very unpredictably. I'd be worried if you could only be aroused by being peed on. Obviously that's not the case. And if you're sick, then so am I, because I intend to pee on you tonight."

"It's just that it seems so outlandish. How can I be turned on by urine?"

"How can people eat sushi? How can people get turned on by someone of their own sex? I mean, I don't understand how Janet and Betsy can get aroused by themselves instead of two guys, but they do. We're all different. It doesn't make you sick, just different."

"I suppose you're right. I'm sorry about dinner."

"Not a problem. In fact, let's order pizza, have it here in a couple of hours and deal with our fantasy early. That way we can unwind afterwards and talk about how we felt about it."

Charlene gulped. "I... I guess that's okay. If I freak, it will give me time to recover."

George went into fantasy mode. "Charlene, go to the bathroom, strip and kneel in the tub."

Panic hit her. "Please, not so fast, George."

"Charlene, do as I say, or I will give you a spanking."

Charlene looked at George fearfully. His face was serious. He really would spank her if she did not do as he said. "George, I'm scared. It's going too fast. Please?"

George's face softened. "Charlene. This is your fantasy. You want to be forced to ask for this degradation. Let yourself go, be the humiliated slut that craves being pissed on. If it doesn't work out, we'll never do it again. But it is your fantasy."

Charlene began to cry. "I know. It's just so humiliating."

"I know. Tell me. Are you aroused right now?"

As he asked the question, she realized that she was, in fact, aroused. Her nipples were stiff, protruding through her shirt. Her pussy lips were feeling damp and there was an ache inside that was yearning to be filled. She broke down, crying. "Yes, I am. God, this is so wrong."

"Don't think about right or wrong. Live the fantasy, just this once. Now, go to the bathroom, strip and kneel in the tub."

Shaking in fear and humiliation, Charlene got up and walked to their bedroom where she undressed and climbed into the tub in the master bath. While she did, George called the pizza place and called in an order for delivery to be delivered in two hours. He figured that would be enough time to complete the fantasy and help Charlene recover from it. He had the impression that she would need that time. His bladder was noticeably full, as he had taken steps to insure that he could piss when the time came.

George went to the bedroom himself and undressed. When he entered the bathroom, Charlene was, as he had instructed, naked and kneeling in the tub. When he saw that she was openly sobbing, he began to have second thoughts. "She is really bothered by this. I'm not sure that these are 'in the fantasy' tears." He stood there for a couple of minutes, until she opened her eyes and saw him there. She looked up, pleading with her eyes? What exactly she was pleading for, he did not know.

Steeling himself, George let his voice go firm and said, "Ask for it."

Charlene sobbed again, shaking her head. George repeated his command. "Beg for it. Ask me now."

"Please... Please pee on me," she gasped between the sobs.

George pointed his cock at her and released his piss. The yellow stream of warm water hit her chest, ran down her breasts, across her belly and into her bush. Charlene felt her gorge rise. She gulped in reverse once, then again, and lost it. George saw the start of her vomitous reaction and cut himself off before she bent over and emptied what little there was in her stomach. As her stomach heaved in disgust for what had happened, George knelt beside her and placed his hand on her back, making soothing motions.

"It's all right. We're done with this one. It will never happen again."

Recovering quickly, only because there was so little to bring up, Charlene grabbed the edge of the tub for support. "I can't. I can't do it. It's so different for real. So sick and disgusting. I feel so dirty."

"You don't have to. This is supposed to be about things that turn us on. This doesn't do it for either of us, so it goes in the garbage can. Come on, let's get you clean."




Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 04



George rinsed the tub out and then drew Charlene a bath, adding her favorite bath oils. He washed every inch of her body with loving care. As each part of her was cleaned, he gave it a small kiss, demonstrating his acceptance of its cleanliness. The feel of her husband's hands treating her with such gentleness soothed the tension and fear that had accumulated over the day.

After drying her off, he put her in bed, relieved himself (at last) and dressed so that he could meet the pizza guy without startling him. The pizza paid for, George took it to the bedroom with one of the bed trays and fed Charlene dinner in bed. He waited until they had finished eating before bringing up the subject of what happened.

"Do you feel up to talking about it?"

"Maybe. I'll let you know if I need to stop."

"I know you were aroused when you came upstairs. Did it stop?"

"Yes. Once I was in the tub, waiting, all the feelings of arousal just faded away. All that was left was fear and loathing for what was going to happen."

"You should have said something, let me know."

"How? Part of the fantasy was that I dreaded it happening. Could you have known I wasn't in the part?"

"Hmm. Maybe not. I hate that I went farther than you wanted. There must be some way for you to let me know that you need to really stop instead of acting like you want me to stop. This time it was mental discomfort. What if it's a physical thing next time? What if you're really hurt?"

"You're right. I need to be able to tell you to stop the fantasy, I need to get off. But, just saying stop won't do it. Several of the fantasies involved me begging for you to stop and being ignored."

"How about some off the wall word or phrase, something that would never come up in the normal course of a fantasy. If you say that, it means stop, for real, something's wrong."

"That should work. How about 'abortion'?"

"Well, it has the virtue of not being something we'll ever say during anything erotic. Abortion it is. That will be our stop word from now on. Hell, hearing it will cause me to stop, just because it's so out of place," he said with a smile. "I think we should take several days off from fantasies. This was pretty intense."

"I'd like that. Let's talk about our next choice in a week or so."

"Works for me," George answered.

The week passed with little to say for itself. Neither George's work nor Charlene's volunteering had much excitement taking place. Without actually talking about it, they both had avoided sex for the week. It was not that either wanted to remain celibate for the week, just that neither one took any steps towards initiating sexual contact. When they looked back on the week later, they were not able to explain why it had happened that way, but agreed that it made the next fantasy incredibly intense.

It was now a week later and they were relaxing after dinner and the dishes were done. An episode of Charmed was on TNT, a show they both enjoyed, though Charlene more than George. Charlene brought up the subject during a commercial.

"Do you think you're ready for another fantasy?"

"Hmm. The more important question is, 'are you?'"

"I think so. I want to experience the sodomy one of yours."

"Are you sure? It seemed to give you the willies as much as the urination one."

"I think so. If it's not a turn on, I guess I want to know. I'm a little worried about injury. There's no lubrication down there like there is in my vagina."

"We'll have to get something to use. I know you've never needed it before, but KY gel should do the trick. We have Vaseline, but it actually feels sticky, not slick."

"I can pick some up tomorrow."

"Tomorrow it is then. One order of sodomy for here."

They both chuckled at the diner reference and returned to watching the charmed ones deal with Phoebe's unborn child using demonic powers. Afterwards, Charlene took George by the hand and led him to the bedroom.

"You want something in particular?" George asked, a lustful grin on his face.

"I just thought of something we can do tonight. This fantasy is one I know we both will have no problem with."

"Just which one are you referring to?"

"You'll see."

Charlene put on a slow, though clumsy, strip tease for George. In spite of her lack of expertise, it accomplished the goal of getting her husband hot and bothered. His cock was visibly hard under his pants and he was openly lusting for his wife. She lay back on the bed, her head upright against the headboard, lifted her breasts in her hands and, used her most sultry voice.

"Do you want to fuck these?" She used the uncharacteristic profanity on purpose.

"Oh ho. You bet your sweet ass I do."

George wasted no time in getting undressed. He climbed on the bed, straddling her hips and leaned down to begin his assault on her breasts. He licked and sucked on her breasts continually. While he did, Charlene's hands fondled his cock, getting it hard and keeping it there. She would not let him get close to cumming, wanting to save that for the actual tit fuck. His mouth on her breasts was exquisite, going on for longer than he had ever done before. Thirty minutes of licking, kissing and loving on her globes passed. By that time, she was moaning and writhing under him. Her hands were trying to reach her pussy, but could not reach around his body.

He went between her breasts one last time, letting copious amounts of saliva coat the inner sides of them. Then he scooted up so that his knees were near her armpits and placed his cock between her tits. His hands squeezed the two mounds of flesh together, trapping his cock between them. Holding them firmly together, he began to thrust back and forth. The sight of his tip poking out from between her again and again was an incredible turn on. The feel of her squishing against him was unlike any other feeling. Tingles of energy careened along his cock, causing him to gasp with each thrust.

Charlene found that she loved the feel of his hands holding her together, like a push bra, creating marvelous cleavage. The sight of him poking out from between her breasts over and over was so erotic. Her pussy was gushing, in spite of the fact that it had not been touched all night. She placed her hands over his, pressing on herself and whispered, "Pussy, please."

Getting her meaning, George extracted his hands, letting her maintain the love channel he was fucking and reached back with one hand to feel her pussy. He could barely reach and still keep up his thrusts. In fact, he was just able to touch her clit with each back stroke. His attempts to reach her sex had his cock trying to pop out the top of the path between her breasts, so Charlene applied more pressure to the top, sealing him in firmly. In the process, she was pinching her nipples, bringing little gasps of pain, but not really pain. It was a little painful, but was more arousing than unpleasant. With her clit being rubbed every couple of seconds, she had very little awareness to spare for analysis.

With the constant clit stimulation, Charlene came first. Over and over again, the intense pleasures from her clit seemed to arc with the little pains in her nipples, eliciting little barks and quivers from her. Each arc was more intense than the last, until the last one sent her body rigid for a second before she screamed and started to shake. Her hands flew out from her breasts and George had to reset himself and close the gap while she climaxed. The added gyrations increased his own pleasure and he knew he would soon cum himself. He slowed a bit, wanting her aware when he came. As she settled down, he increased his tempo, driving himself towards his own release. Charlene sent him over when she blew air across his tip as it exposed itself.

Ribbons of cum laid themselves down on her neck and face as George cried out in orgasm. A week worth of waiting left him with plenty to paint her with. Some landed in her mouth, but most covered her face with globules of white semen. As his climax eased off, some of the last oozes were left between her breasts. Finally spent, George rolled off of her and rested on his side, looking at her as she fingered his cum and brought it to her mouth. He helped her, feeding himself to her as she made little, "Mmm" sounds. 

"George, we have to do this again. This is so erotic."

"No argument here. This one's a keeper."

They lay together in bed, cuddling once Charlene had consumed the rest of what he had left on her, eventually falling asleep.

The next afternoon, Charlene made a trip to Walmart to pick up the lubricant. The last thing she expected was the sheer number of types. In addition to multiple brands, there were so many different types. There were normal (the ones with no additional 'features'), scented, flavored(?), warming (which seemed to generate heat), extra smooth, with aloe, in tubes and in jars. She was staring, not so much from indecision, but from pure information overload.

"Is there something I can help you find?" She was startled at the sudden presence of a voice behind her. A young man was standing behind her, with a helpful look on his face.

"Uh, no. There's just so many," she said, pointing to the personal lubricants.

"Well, ma'am, unless you have a reason for the specialty ones, just go with the basics. They're just like what the doctor uses when he gives a rectal exam."

Charlene blushed at the reference to things anal, imagining that he knew just why she wanted the lubricant. Muttering a hurried, "Thanks," she grabbed one of the tubes, large, and practically ran to checkout. The complete indifference of the checkout lady was a relief, given that it was all she had bought. She still eyed the people around her to see if any were watching her; making judgments. She knew it was paranoid, but she couldn't help it.

At home, she found herself very curious about how the stuff felt. She was also a little concerned about how much anal penetration would hurt. Opening the tube, she squeezed a little dollop out onto her finger and rubbed it between the finger and thumb. It seemed that a little went a long way. It was very slick, almost as much as her natural lubricant. It also did not seem to 'go away' with friction. Although it did wash off easily, verifying the 'water soluble' claim.

She took it to the bedroom and, undressing, she tried it out on her ass. She was able to reach her hand to her anal opening, with a bit of stretching. She thought to herself, "This would be a lot easier if I were twenty pounds and a couple of inches smaller." She found that she could get the gel into her opening by prying a cheek apart and forcing a finger with the stuff on the tip inside. Her only previous experience with penetrating her anus was giving herself an enema in preparation for a flexible sig (a less invasive version of a colonscopy). Her finger was twice as wide as an enema bottle's spout. Once the gel was in, however, her finger had an easier time getting in.

One finger was actually not painful. Even when she wiggled it a bit, it did not hurt, though she was glad she did not have long nails (she could never keep them from breaking). What nails she did have were very noticeable inside. The lining felt... fragile was the best word she could think of. Knowing that George's cock was much larger than her finger, she tried to get two in side by side. Here, her ability to reach behind her was too limited. She could get two fingertips just into the opening, but no significant penetration. Even then, it was hard and a little painful. Going back to one finger, she discovered that the gel inside her rectum had lessened. There was apparently enough water present inside to degrade the lubricant over time.

After wiping the exterior area clean, she redressed and waited for her husband to return. Once they had finished dinner, they retired to the living room and began to discuss the planned activities.

"Well, Charlene, are you ready for your ass to be taken tonight?"

"I think so. I experimented a little with the KY. It seems to work really well, but it dissolves in water. I'd really like it if you used lots of it. There is probably some water inside me and I don't want to go dry in the middle of the whole thing."

"I don't want that either. It's not like we have a shortage."

"Also, my rectal opening is a lot smaller than my vaginal one. Please take it slow. I know it might hurt some, but I don't want to be injured down there. Just explaining how it happened to the doctor would kill me with embarrassment."

"I don't want to have to explain that, ether. I'll take lots of time using my fingers to try to loosen things up, if it's possible"

"It's possible. I remember reading in some anti-gay literature that gays can suffer from loose bowel syndrome because they have been stretched too much. I'm not sure about it being possible to stretch that much, but clearly, we can be stretched."

Charlene could see that just talking about the subject had George's cock starting to become erect. She liked that they were doing something that was focused on his pleasure, not hers. Even the one that had been a disaster had started as something that was supposed to be for her. She had no doubt that she would not get much enjoyment out of being sodomized.

Taking his hand, she said, "If we're going to take a lot time, we should get started right away. I can see you're ready to start."

They went once more to the bedroom. Charlene insisted on undressing George, wanting to demonstrate how willing she was for this. When she exposed his penis she took it in her hands and whispered to it, "Be gentle." Then, she removed her own clothes, draped herself on the bed and made sure that her hips were on the edge, leaving her ass exposed and prominent. "Go ahead, dear, I'm ready."

George went into the bathroom, saying, "I'm going to wash my hands real good. No point in taking any chances." In the bathroom, he spotted his hemorrhoid cream with its applicator tip. Washing that thoroughly as well, her returned and was thrilled to find that the two tubes used the same size cap. The applicator was a small tube with holes along the side that a cream or gel could squirt through. Once it was on, he got a little out and coated the outside of the tube. Then he pushed the applicator into her anus and squeezed.

Charlene yelped at the penetration by something other than a finger. She had been keeping her eyes closed while she waited, trying to calm her breathing. She was nervous about the pain she was sure was coming. The feeling of a solid, cold penetration shocked her, though not as much as the feeling of gel squeezing into her rectum. She gasped and tensed.

"My God. What is that?"

"I just put the applicator from the Preparation H on the end. Seemed like a good idea at the time. You okay?"

"Yes. Just surprised. It doesn't feel bad, just weird."

"Okay, my finger is next."

He slowly pushed his finger in, finding that one finger was not difficult. He let it sit there for a minute and then began moving it in and out, basically fucking her with one finger. As he started, she gasped, her muscles tightening.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just feels weird. I kind of want it to stay in and get out at the same time. It's actually a little arousing. Keep it up, maybe I'll relax."

George did, slowly working himself in and out for several minutes. Charlene did relax, her muscles no longer clenching repeatedly. George thought she was getting a little dry, so he took himself out and grabbed the KY again. Charlene moaned when he was out.

"Oh, I feel, empty. I kind of want you back in there. I don't believe I said that."

"A little more lubricant. You ready for two fingers?"

Her breath caught. "Okay. Nice and slow?"

"Of course. I'm really hard. I'm going to struggle to be gentle when the time comes."

He used the applicator to put more in and then placed two fingers together and pressed them against her anal opening. Charlene started breathing hard and her muscles tensed in trepidation. The KY made it impossible for her to keep the intruders out. He could hear her stifle a cry, and pulled back out.

"No. Don't stop."

"You sound like it hurts."

"It does a little, but it also feels so filling. Keep going. I want this, I need to feel it once, at least. I'm soaked, George. It's hard to fathom, but I'm so hot. Give me more please."

"Okay, if you're sure?"

When she nodded, he placed the two fingers against her again and pushed. She drew a breath in and moaned as she felt the wonderfully horrible stretching in her bottom. Every clench of her rectal muscles was a little burst of pain. She recognized that if she could just stop fighting it, it would hurt less. Her breath was coming in rapid pants as she struggled to gain control over those rebellious muscles. It took a few minutes of George just holding the fingers in place for her to regain control.

When he felt her contractions stop, he once again fucked her anus with his fingers, never quite removing them. When her breathing had returned to some semblance of aroused normal, he removed them almost all the way and added a third finger, forming a small triangle of flesh. Charlene gasped at the new intruder, seemingly ten times as large as the previous.

"Oh God. Oh God. Big. Hurt. Big. No, don't stop. God, it hurts. Keep going. Oh God!." Her cries were a mixed bag of complaint at how much it hurt and pleas that it not stop. She could feel a damp spot under her body from the arousal that had seeped into the covers on the bed. He got all three fingers deep inside her and let them sit there, unmoving. Charlene's hands gripped the bed sheet again and again as her entire body fought against the penetration and her mind's desire to keep it there. It was like she was shitting again and again, but nothing was moving. It took five full minutes for her to relax again, her body having gotten used to the massive feeling intrusion.

George took the tube of KY and, sticking it in between and past his fingers, squirted even more into her. Charlene gasped at the feeling of the cool gel oozing even farther inside her rectal passage. That done, he moved his fingers in and out once more, fucking her ass with yet a larger intruder. Each slow thrust brought a gasp from Charlene, her hands clasping the sheet in time with his finger's passage. Each thrust brought a combination of pain at the stretching and pleasurable fullness.

"Are you ready for the main event?"

"Yes, please," she gasped.

He probed once more with the KY between his three fingers, filling her passage with yet more lubricant. Then he took his fingers out and rubbed KY over his rock hard cock. His cock pressed against her ass, the purple, engorged tip, sitting at the entrance. He held it there for a moment and then, slowly pressed in. Her stretched anal muscles had not closed completely, and he was able to make head way. An inch in, then rest, letting her get used to it. With each inch, there was a gasp of pain from Charlene. Then another inch in, another mew of pain, and another rest. Each inch or so in caused her to clench the bed in time with her whimper of pain. He could feel the lube inside as he passed through it and pushed it farther in.

When Charlene felt his balls against her butt, she moaned, "Oh God. So full, so full. God, it hurts less now. It's so full. Don't go, stay. God, take me George, take me." She was shedding tears as she whimpered to him, as much from the effort to not clench against him, as from the incredible presence of him there.

"Let me know when you're ready for me to start fucking you."

"Oh God. It's so good. It only hurts a little now. Do it, I want it."

George started to thrust in and out of her, with slow even strokes. The pressure on his cock was beyond anything he had experienced before. There was constant friction and intense pressure on him with each stroke in. With each stroke out, he could feel her muscles pressing him away. He had to fight past them on the return. Each little, "Ahhh," from Charlene as he forced his way back in sounded like an erotic symphony. He strangely felt like his cock was getting bigger as he went on, forcing her ass to expand even more (though it was really the constant pressure of her rectal muscles trying to force him out). Every stroke was like a rasping against his glans, sending bursts of near painful pleasure through him. 




Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 04



It was not long before he felt his climax approaching and he instinctively sped up, thrusting into her harder and faster. As he did, Charlene's was surprised that the major feeling was fullness, not pain. She bit into the bedding and pulled at it with her fists, holding her cries in as much as possible, wanting this sodomy to reach completion. Her clit was being forced against the bed with each thrust propelling her towards her own climax.

In fact, she reached hers first, her whole body clenching against the onslaught of pleasure. Her sphincter tried to crush George's cock and forced him to his orgasm as well. One last thrust against the pressure inside of her and he poured his cum into her bowels. She lost control at the feeling of hot cum flooding her and began to shake and scream on the bed. Her contractions drew his orgasm out, adding another couple of spurts of cum into her. Each pulse from his cock was intimately felt inside against her tense anal muscles, adding to the sensations that were careening and mixing in her, fullness and pleasure combined and joined in a strange harmony.

Once his climax had faded, George pulled his softening cock out and lay down beside Charlene. He put an arm over her, holding her as she was coming down. Her body was still shaking, though now from a release of pent up emotions. He could hear her crying and was concerned that she let herself be hurt.

"Honey. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she got out through the sobs. "I'm just feeling overwhelmed. That was so intense. It hurt at first and then it was so good. I wanted it and wanted it to stop. I'm glad we did it and I wish we hadn't. I'm just confused about it all. Just hold me, I need to be held."

That George could do. He held her, turning her so she could put her head on his shoulder. Her confused emotions settled a little, though they did not sort themselves out. As she became able to think rationally again, she realized that she would have a love hate relationship with anal sex. It hurt like hell at first. Yet, it gave her a powerful orgasm, almost as powerful as being tied up. The thought entered her head, "How powerful would it be if I were tied and sodomized?" She shuddered at the thought. It might be too much of a good thing. "But what a way to go."

After she had seemed to recover, George suggested, "We should shower. On a purely physical level, the ass is a pretty dirty place."

He rolled over and then noticed the slight red coloration on his cock. He looked over at Her ass and saw a small trail of blood on her buttocks.

"Honey, there's a little bit of blood." There was worry in his voice.

"How much? Is it bad?" Charlene was also concerned.

"It's just a smear. Hold on, I want to look a little closer."

He rolled her on her stomach and pried her cheeks apart. He could not see an active flow of blood, just the smear on the cheeks.

"It doesn't look too bad. It might be nothing more than the equivalent of a bleeding hemorrhoid. You should check for blood when you go in the morning. If there is some, we'll go see the doctor. I don't think it's an emergency."

"Okay. I'd rather not have to tell the doctor we were having anal sex if I don't have to."

That settled, they took a shower and, after a little TV together, went to bed.

*

I want to thank D., my editor for all her hard work. She helped me fix some flow and believability problems, as well as her normally wonderful work with proofreading.

I do covet your feedback, both the good and the constructive criticism..

Yes, I know the BDSM is minimal, but I like all parts of a story to be in the same category.



Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 05



Chapter Five: Taken

In the morning, there was no blood visible. The couple was reassured that no damage had resulted from their activities of the previous night. Less clear to them was where they would go from here. Only two fantasies remained from their original lists of four each. Both of these had issues that gave them pause. That night, they shared their feelings with each other.

"Charlene, have you thought about which fantasy you'd like to try next," George asked, starting the conversation.

"Yes. I haven't been able to decide. Your whipping fantasy scares me. The possibility of being really hurt is frightening. And I'm sure it will hurt a lot more than the spanking did."

"I'm sure it will too. Of course, I'm not even sure where we could go to buy a whip. I'm not even sure what kind we should use."

"What kind?"

"Well, there's more than one type of whip. You've got the long bull whip that Harrison Ford used in the Indiana Jones movies. There's a cat-o-nine-tails like they used to punish sailors back in the 17th and 18th centuries." Charlene shuddered at the idea of being subjected to a whip that was nine whips in one. "And there's crops, you know, like jockey's use on horses."

"I don't know. The riding crop sounds like it would do the least amount of damage. I mean, jockeys don't actually want to hurt the horse, just spur it on to more speed. Definitely not a cat-o-nine-tails. All those lashes at the same time? It would tear my back into ribbons."

"You're right. There's no reason to do to you what was done to Christ."

Like many novices, George and Charlene were making assumptions without knowledge. Little did they realize that a bull whip was far more dangerous than a cat. Anything striking the human body at more than the speed of sound will tear it apart. Breaking the sound barrier was what caused the crack that the bull whip was famous for. The idea that there were cats that were capable of not breaking the skin, never occurred to them.

George changed subjects. "What about the backyard rape fantasy? I certainly won't do anything during that one to truly hurt you."

"I know you won't." She hugged him tight, shuddering at the thought of being taken like that, apparently against her will. "But it's outside. There is the possibility someone might see. I know we have tall fencing around the yard, but if one of the neighbors hears something, they could check it out and see us "in flagrante delecto". I'm just getting used to the idea that I enjoy some types of sexual perversion. Letting the neighbors know that is way beyond my comfort zone."

"It's not the first thing on my to-do list either. While I suspect the Millers would not be appalled, sharing you is not one of my fantasies; not even sharing the vision of your beautiful naked body. The Stewarts, on the other hand, would probably call the police if they caught us doing it in the back yard."

Charlene noticed that George's pants were showing a bulge. "Well, I don't have to ask if the fantasy still interests you." Her voice had a lusty quality that George had not heard so plainly in quite some time. "My nipples are in total agreement with your dick. I still want to do this one. I just want to choose the right time."

"You know? Mike Stewart was telling me the other day that they were going on a trip next week. He said the family was going to see Joey perform at the State Marching Band competition. It s supposed to last the weekend and then they were going to drive on over to Yellowstone for a week and make a vacation out of it. If the Millers keep up their normal pattern, they'll go to a movie on Friday. That would give us two different days when no one would be around to see or hear us, at least no one right next to the yard." Behind their yard was the street that ran next to the subdivision, so they weren't worried about that direction.

"That should be okay. Since the fantasy has you gagging me, I won't make all the noise I've been making lately."

"Yes," George responded with a smile, "you do seem to be enjoying sex even more than normal. It's very erotic when you are so vocal." Returning to the subject, "The best part of doing it on a Friday is that we don't have to worry about getting up early. It won't be total darkness until after 9."

"Oh, that would be brilliant. Wait until no one can hear us and then do it in the daylight? No, we're waiting until it's dark. Dark and cloudy would be best. I don't suppose you've perfected that weather machine yet?" she asked with a chuckle.

"No. I've still got a few glitches to get out still." His chuckle was added to hers.

Feeling his cock again, she asked, "And what do you want to do about this?"

"Does madam have any suggestions?"

"I think I can come up with a potential solution to this plumbing problem. Would you care to accompany me to my workshop?"

She took his hand and led him to the bedroom. Pulling him close, she slowly removed his shirt, one button at a time. His hands rested on her hips while he gazed down at the delicate fingers that were turning each stage of the opening into a sensuous dance on his chest. As he pressed gently above her hips, she moaned in pleasure. Once his shirt was off, Charlene ran her hands through the hair on his chest, enjoying the feel of his maleness under her fingers. 

His hands grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it off her. Even before it hit the floor, his hands were at the clasp of her bra, releasing it with a practiced ease. Her breasts spilled out of their confinement, sagging just a little. Their nipples made up for the slight lack of firmness, sticking out, hard and firm. George's hands caressed her tits, teasing the nipples with near misses. Her breath became more ragged. The already erect nipples gained even more rigidity. Her body squirmed in an unsuccessful attempt to graze her nipples against his hands.

He whispered, "Pants."

Her hands descended and released the belt and button. They dropped to the floor, followed shortly by his briefs. Charlene stared at his exposed cock, hard and glistening. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips. She watched it jerk when she ran her fingers lightly over its length. George's gasp was like music in her ears.

"I want to try," she said, dropping to her knees.

She felt a tenseness in her chest as she licked her lips again. The panic tried to rise up, but she closed her eyes and, with a deep breath, quelled it, forcing it back down into her gut. Her eyes reopened and she leaned in, brushing the tip of him with her tongue. Her head jerked back, but she didn't bolt. She let the breath she had not realized she was holding out. Again, her head bent forward. She took the tip into her mouth and pulled it back out, like taking a bite of ice cream from a cone. She could feel her heart beating a mile a minute, but she stayed on her knees, giving her husband head, unforced, for the first time. Her heart swelled with happiness.

From above her, George said, "That feels so good. I love you, Charlene."

She took him in again, deeper. This time she kept him there, swirling her tongue about his cock. She moaned in pleasure at the taste of precum that leaked into her mouth. The mental discomfort was still there, but she had become stronger than it. Her hands cupped his balls, one gently squeezing, the other tickling the hair on it. The resulting tickle caused him to breathe even faster than he was.

George reached down and pulled her up and off of his cock. "I want to cum in another part of you tonight," he whispered to her surprise.

His hands slipped inside the waistband of her skirt and panties, pulling them off to fall to the floor. His mouth reached down to her breasts, taking one of the long forgotten (it seemed) nipples in to be loved on. She groaned as he literally sucked on her. His tongue brushed on the tip repeatedly, drawing gasps from her. His hands went to that place above her hips that she loved so well. A squeal escaped from her and she clasped him to her, holding him tight. His cock brushed her pussy when she did. She felt a small trail of pussy juice and precum form on her leg when she wiggled in his grasp.

George lifted her up and swung Charlene around to the bed. He eased her onto the soft surface and let his hands roam over her body. He stayed clear of her pussy, letting it stew in anticipation. He could see the wetness between her legs. It extended halfway to her knees, having dripped that far in the short time since her panties had been removed. He bent down and licked at the fluids on her legs, tasting her arousal. Her pussy lips were full and protruding, as if reaching out to capture a stray cock that might happen to be passing by. Her hands tried to pull him into her, but he resisted and she was left to whimper in need.

Charlene's hands grasped at the bed sheets as she waited for George to stop teasing her and attack her pussy. He licked at the edges of her, savoring the juices that had soaked her skin. As he did, he blew gently on her lips. She shuddered and screeched at the sudden cooling of her cunt. The screech was repeated, only louder, when his tongue made its first swipe across her pussy lips. She tasted exquisite. George's first licks were tentative, touching her with the lightest of caresses. He gradually increased the contact until he was taking full swipes from her ass crack to just below her clit.

By now, Charlene was a writhing mass of arousal, primed for the last step in this dance. George pulled himself up and straddled Charlene, his cock poised at the entrance to her pussy. She raised herself to meet him, taking his tip into herself. He responded by thrusting the rest of the way. George dropped on her, kissing her passionately as he thrust his cock in and out of her cunt. Her arms wrapped around him, trapping him so that he could no longer tease, but only please. By now, he had no desire to tease. His actions had become frenzied, as he endeavored to propel them both to the climaxes they needed.

Charlene reached her orgasm first. She clasped him even tighter to her and started to shake, her scream trapped by his mouth. Her cunt pulsated around his cock as it continued to slide in and out. The sensations were like an electric tingling that shot through his body. As her orgasm waned, his started. He thrust one last time into her and his cock pulsed, almost painfully, emptying him into her. He held himself there, motionless, as his cock pulsed several more times. When he finished, he rolled off to the side, still holding her in his arms and being held in hers.

They lay in each others arms for quite some time, gently stroking each others' backs and kissing softly. Their faces displayed their love for one another for anyone to see. Sometimes, Charlene thought this was the best part of sex. Basking in the warmth of his embrace as they savored the feelings that they had just had. She could not remember a time when he just rolled over and went on to something else.

The rest of the night went just as well. Their normal routine was punctuated by the knowledge that another fantasy was looming. Unlike the others, this one loomed with a level of uncertainty. Forces outside their control were in charge of the timing. Would the Millers go to a movie? Would it rain? During the wait, George looked into whips. 

This wasn't an easy thing to do. There were two places he could think of where he could find whips. One place was a tack and harness store. It would be simple enough to buy a riding crop there. No one would even know what he was getting it for. The only other place would be to go to a sex store. The store he had bought the pornos at had a selection of things that had shocked and titillated him. In fact, he suspected that his trip there had encouraged the whipping fantasy. There had been a selection of paddles and whips there.

Clearly, if there was a market for whips in a sex store, there were people who did this sort of thing regularly. Probably quite a few. If he went to one of those places (again), he could perhaps get some information that would let them be safer when they tried it. But, he would obviously have to let someone else know what they were going to do. The thought of doing that was incredibly embarrassing. If he didn't, however, he ran the risk of potentially hurting her, very badly. That, in the end was the deciding factor. Charlene's health and safety came first. He was not, however, going back to that seedy little place he went to last time.

There were a couple of places that he wanted to check out that held promise. One place, located across from the major mall in their town was called The Erotic Boutique. He had never been inside, but its outer décor was radically different from the usual porn store. He word sex did not appear anywhere on their store front. Erotic, adult, lovers and toys did, but nothing blatantly sexual. He blocked some time in his day on Wednesday to visit there.

Located between a medical testing center and a computer shop, The Erotic Boutique was in a building that may well have been a home in the past. The windows were not covered and a variety of lingerie was visible inside. George hoped that they had more than that, though he knew Charlene would not object to a new teddy. Inside, he was not disappointed. The store arrangement was cleverly designed to have the lingerie shield the other displays from the windows. The shop was clearly designed to appeal to women with gentle pastel coloring and subdued displays. He thought that Charlene might even feel comfortable here; after the third or fourth visit.

There were two ladies behind the checkout counter as well as three other customers. Two were women and the other was a man. The two women were obviously together and when they turned around, he recognized them. It was Janet and Betsy from the church! His first thought was to exit before he was noticed, but they had already seen him and were coming over. He felt his face flushing in embarrassment as they greeted him.

"George. It's nice to see you," Betsy started. "I have to admit, I didn't expect to see you here, of all places."

"Hi Betsy, Janet." He was at a loss for words. The fact that Janet had a vibrator in her hands was not helping.

Janet saw his stare and smiled. "It's okay big guy. Everyone needs a toy now and then. Is this your first time in the store?"

"Yeah. Uh, we got some movies at another place once, but, yeah, first time here."

"Are you getting... Sorry, I guess I'm prying a bit. I can see you're embarrassed enough as it is. We'll just leave you alone to do your shopping." Janet took Betsy's hand and they turned to go to the counter.

George would never be able to explain where the impulse came from, but he reached out and touched Janet's shoulder. "Wait. Uh, do you mind if I ask you a... for some advice? Confidentially?"

Betsy and Janet exchanged looks of surprise, pleasant surprise. Betsy nodded. "We'd be honored to help. We heard how you stood up for us at the bible study. Nothing you ask goes beyond this building. Promise."

"Ah... This is hard. I... we've never done anything like this before. Do you know anything about whipping fantasies?"

"Are you two thinking about playing at BDSM?"

"What's BDSM?"

"Oh my! That's bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism. Whipping is one part of it. It includes all sorts of sex play like tying up one another, pretending to be slaves and masters, forced public sexual play. If you two are thinking about a whipping scene, I'm surprised that you've never heard of it before."

"Actually, I had gotten the idea that people did things like that, but I had never heard of that name before. Our interest is sort of new."

"I can imagine. It's a good thing you asked someone about this. The potential for hurting one another is pretty high for novices. Janet and I aren't into that sort of thing, but we have known people who are and have absorbed some second hand knowledge. If we can, we'll try to answer your questions."

"I guess I only have one. What's safe? The place I bought videos at before had cat-o-nine-tails, but I've heard they can flay a man alive. That's not what we want."

"From what we've heard, that's one of the safest things to use. The ones that can rip you up are not sold much, certainly not here. The ones you can get are soft and, if you don't hit very hard, won't even leave a mark. I know there's a couple of things even safer, but I don't know what they're called."

Betsy looked at Janet. "Do you remember whether it was wide or thin straps that were the best?"

"No, I don't. I just remember that there was a difference. Length made a difference too, but I don't remember how."

"You know, there's probably web sites about this sort of stuff. You could look up whipping online and there should be something that talks about safety issues."

Janet looked at George with a slight gleam in her eye. "There is something you can use that will be perfectly safe."

"Oh, what's that?"

"Your hand." The couple could not help giggling at his discomfort.

George did get the last laugh though. He smiled and said, "Been there, done that."

Chuckling, he walked farther into the store, leaving them to pay. He looked at the selection of whips and found that there were more than just cats. The selection included paddles, thick leather straps called floggers, crops and something called a horse hair flogger. He spent some time looking at them, unable to decide just what to get, if anything.

One of the ladies from behind the counter walked over and asked, "Can I help you find something in particular?"

George flushed again, though the lady acted as if she had not noticed. "I... Do you know anything about these?" he asked, pointing towards the whip rack.

"I'm afraid not. Most people who come in for them seem to know just what they are looking for." She had that manner that put you at ease. George's embarrassment started to fade as he was reassured by her nonchalant manner to his request, enabling him to pursue the matter more.

"I've never done this before and I want to make sure we don't get hurt. There seem to be so many choices."

"There are, and we don't carry even half of what's out there. If I may make a suggestion, get some information before you buy anything. We have a book section over here." She led him to the bookshelves. "This seems to be very popular and gets excellent reviews from readers on Amazon.com." She held up a copy of "SM 101" by Jay Wiseman.

He took the book and looked at it. The table of contents seemed to cover a wide variety of subjects, including whipping and bondage. The blurbs on the back spoke highly of the book as a beginner's resource for BDSM. It seemed just the book he was looking for. He decided to get the book and make a decision about whips later, after he had learned something about what they were planning to do.

However, George hadn't read any of the book by the Friday. He was still a little uncomfortable with the idea. On one level, reading the book was an admission that this sort of sexual play was going to be a long term part of their sex life. His logical self knew that didn't have to be true, but his emotional self was doing the talking on this one. So the book sat in his desk drawer, unread, for now.

Friday was perfect. It was clear, with no chance of rain. The Stewarts were out of town, and the Millers left for their weekly movie just before dark. Charlene had managed to chat with them and found that they were taking in dinner first and then the late showing at 10:15. According to Fandango, "Live Free or Die Hard" had a running time of over 2 hours. They would have over three hours of freedom from nearby neighbors. The sun had set and dusk had faded to dark.

"How do you want to start?" George asked. "It is your fantasy."




Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 05



"I want to really get into this one, even more than the others. I need to actually be locked outside in the back, naked. I want to be trapped out there for at least half an hour, but I don't want to know how long it's going to be." She shuddered as she finished her request. There was a vulnerability in what she had just asked for that scared her to the core.

"Are you sure, honey? I know no one can see you back there, but won't you be frightened?"

"I think that's the point. In every one of my fantasies but one, I am scared, terrified even. I think the fear is part of what turns me on. I want to be a little frightened. I won't be terrified because I know it will really be you, but I want to make myself scared. If it gets to be too much, I'll come to the door and say 'abortion' like we agreed."

"Okay. I will be watching you the whole time. I won't have this be the day that a real burglar just happened to wander by and rape you for real. Also, I'm not going to gag you at all. You can't tell me something's wrong if you can't talk."

"Okay. That's a good idea."

"Now, you get undressed and I'll get in my burglar outfit."

Charlene took all her clothes off while George put on a dark blue set of sweats. He also got his ski mask out and ready along with a plastic knife that had been used in a church play a couple of years back. His winter driving gloves would complete the you-can't-see-me look. He added a few lengths of rope from their bondage night, and he was all set. Charlene looked as if the fear was already starting and he hugged her once to reassure her that it was all right.

Charlene went out the back door. The sound of the door closing and the lock being thrown was horribly loud in her ears. She checked the door and her heart leapt at finding it locked. "It's going to happen," she thought to herself. The light from the back porch kept her from being able to see inside the house, making it impossible to tell if George was really watching her (though she had no doubt he was). She looked around the yard. Much of it was lit by the light, something she had not visualized in the fantasy itself.

She wandered about the yard, letting the trapped feeling in her grow. She had not known just how easy it was to become frightened when she knew she was safe. It occurred to her that this is what a really good actress should be able to do, create a real emotion inside herself. It helped that there was the real, though highly improbable, chance a stranger could enter their yard right now for some unsavory purpose. Charlene was extremely conscious of her nakedness and exposure. Every sound had her full attention, startling her and adding to the fear she was experiencing.

She lost track of time. She found herself hiding even though there was no one else present. On a certain level, she forgot about George being in the house. She truly felt trapped outside, vulnerable to who ever would happen by. When a light appeared inside the house, she jumped. "Who is that?" she asked herself before she remembered. The light moved back and forth across the back rooms of the house a couple of times before the porch light suddenly went out and the back door opened. Charlene's breath caught in her throat as she took in the masked form she knew was George. When he turned his back to shut the door, she bolted to the picnic table and hid underneath.

George went through the motions of looking through the shed for other items to 'steal.' He was holding a black trash bag with some things in it to give more realism to his role. After five minutes of 'not noticing' Charlene, he set the bag down and swept the light across the yard. He made a show of scanning slowly across the yard, as if looking for something in particular. He let the light pass by the picnic table once, then swung it back, focused on her.

The light hit her, revealing Charlene in all her nakedness. She had allowed the feelings of being trapped to build so well that she felt true fear and tried to back out to get away. George ran up to her and grabbed her by the hair. Charlene gave a startled cry (it wasn't really painful) and started to shed tears. The light dropped and she felt a knife blade against her throat as the hand in her hair shifted to grab her around her chest.

"Don't make another sound, or I'll slit your throat!"

"Please," she whispered. "Don't hurt me."

Amazingly, Charlene could feel moisture running down her legs even as she felt the fear in her chest. As her husband pushed her down against the table, she gasped. The pressure on her breasts, which she had expected to be painful, was instead, sensuous. Her erect nipples rubbed against the polished wood, tingling with sensation as if they had been caressed by rough hands. She felt rope being tied around her hands, trapping them at the small of her back.

"Please, please," she whispered. Charlene wasn't sure if she was pleading for George to stop or to continue. Her cunt ached for touch. Her need for being fucked was on an even par with her feelings of helplessness and fear. Somehow, the two warring feelings came to a truce and added to one another instead of fighting. When she felt the ropes tying her ankles to the legs of the table, pinning her in place, open to whatever her attacker wanted to do, the emptiness in her pussy grew even stronger.

Her legs struggled to get loose, yet she was glad when they didn't. She felt a gloved hand roughly probe her cunt. Moaning at the touch, she thrust her hips back against the hand that was violating her. The hand left her, only to reappear at her face, rubbing her own juices all over her. A finger forced itself into her mouth and she tasted a surprisingly wonderful taste of leather, old sweat and herself. Unable to resist, she sucked on the finger to get maximum flavor. When the hand returned to her cunt, it brushed her clit and she came, violently. Her initial scream of pleasure was cut off when the hand covered her mouth, gagging her temporarily.

George backed off from her to move to the side. He tied the longer (26 feet) length of rope to the bench on one side, draped it across the back of her neck and tied the other end to the opposite bench. Now Charlene could not raise her head more than a foot above the surface of the table. While he had been waiting, he had realized that this fantasy was as much about not knowing exactly what was happening as it was about being taken forcibly. That was why Charlene had not wanted to know exactly how long he was going to wait. His changes with the ropes were a part of his attempt to make the attack even more unpredictable.

With his victim secured, he probed her pussy with his hand again. It was even wetter than it had been a few minutes ago. Charlene was breathing heavily and moaning. She cried out at the contact with her pussy and thrust back against his hand. Her face was anointed with her fluids again. She could feel her juices dripping off of both sets of lips. Her tongue licked what it could reach as she began to feel intoxicated by her scent.

Still she pleaded, "Please, please." She didn't say it, but she wanted to be taken, to be fucked mercilessly. Escape was now the farthest thing from her mind. When his cock plunged into her cunt like a sword into its sheath, she cried out, "Yes! Oh God, Yes!"

The hand returned to cover her mouth, stifling her cries of pleasure. Her cunt was filled and little explosions of pleasure radiated form her pussy. Without conscious thought, she thrust back against him, seeking as much penetration as she could. She had not come down fully from her last orgasm and was now rocketing to a new one. Her nerves soaked up every iota of sensation from the cock that was rubbing her slick pussy lips. Her clit was being forced against the edge of the table. Each hit on it sent a charge through her body and forced a gasp into the hand that held her cries in.

George had never felt like this before. There was a sense of power, of control, that was heady. His cock was harder and felt larger than ever before. HE was in control of what happened and he found he liked the feeling. It frightened him a little, but not enough to stop what he was doing. He knew though, that he loved this fantasy and that he would want to do something like this again. Knowing that Charlene had given this control to him was intoxicating as well. Somehow he felt her love for him more now than almost any time in the past. Later, he would only be able to think of a dozen or so times when her love had felt more real, stronger, than it did now. It was the trust, he would see, the trust she extended to him by letting him have her like this, helpless and with no choice.

It took him very little time to reach his own climax. With a growl that shocked Charlene, George thrust one last time and shot cum into her pussy. He would swear that he could feel his balls clenching to deliver his seed into her again and again. When he had finished, much to her dismay, he pulled out.

"No! Please don't stop. Let me cum, please," she pleaded.

His hand had left her face again and fingers scooped into her cunt. The combination of her fluids and his cum was wiped on her face. He delved into her several more times, each probing rescuing her insipient cum from fading. When those fingers entered her a sixth time, she came again. Her cries were again stifled by fingers being thrust into her mouth, forcing her to take in that mixture of cum and pussy. The taste drew her orgasm out. As she came off of her climax, her head was covered in his sweat shirt, blinding her and trapping the scents that covered her face inside.

She heard him walk away and began to struggle in her bonds. He was leaving her still tied! When she heard the back door open and then close, she began to sob and cry out softly. "No, please don't leave me. Come back, I need you. Don't leave me here. Don't leave me alone." She could not see that George was still outside, watching her struggle, listening for her to say, "abortion," to signal that she needed to be let loose. For half an hour, he watched and listened. She struggled continually, yet never used her stop word. During that time, his cock had revived. When he silently walked back to her, he was erect again.

Charlene's heart was beating fast and her breathing was ragged. She felt fear. She had been left bound, naked, in her back yard, helpless to resist the attention of anyone who happened by. Yet, the fear did not decrease her arousal. She had come down from her orgasm, but was now on the increase again. She couldn't help but struggle against her bonds. The neck rope was insidious. She could move her head, but not enough to accomplish anything. The mass of cum on her face was slowly congealing. After 15 minutes, she realized that she could still rub her clit against the picnic table. Doing that, she was able to cum again, holding herself silent by pressing her mouth against the table. She was just starting to go for a fourth orgasm when she jerked against her ropes hard. 

She had heard no one approach, nor had she heard the door opening. So the hand that cupped her cunt was a total shock. This time she wasn't totally sure who it was. She knew George wouldn't let a stranger have her like this, but he was inside, wasn't he? A second assault wasn't part of the fantasy! "What was happening?" she thought.

"No, please don't. Don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me."

He said nothing. Her body was betraying her and responding with gusto. In the back of her mind, she knew this had to be George, but her emotions weren't sure. When she felt his hand, slippery with her juices, probe her ass, she panicked.

"No! Not there. Please don't take me there." She was weeping at the thought of an anal invasion. Her breath was coming short and shallow as her fear was given free reign. She tried to clench her ass shut, but found that something in the way she was bound made it impossible to close herself. She begged, "Who are you. Please, tell me who you are."

Sensing the panic in her voice, George whispered, "Shut up, bitch. Another word and I'll hurt you for real."

The combination of hearing his voice and the brutality of his words threw her into even higher arousal. The combination of helplessness and safety was such a turn on that all she could do was moan. A finger penetrated her ass, coating the inside with her natural lube. Then two fingers reached in and stretched her. She gasped and moaned as they twisted and moved inside her. Charlene found herself trying to let them in, not force them out. Another hand swiped at her pussy several times as George used her own fluids to coat his cock. 

A long low, "Ahhhhhh," uttered from her mouth as his cock pressed up against her ass. There was pressure and then some pain as his tip penetrated her ass. The well lubricated organ, slicker tonight than when they had done this the first time, slowly penetrated her ass. With less preparation, Charlene felt more pain, but it was countered by already being extremely aroused. The fact that most of the lubricant was on the cock and the outer ass made the actual entry easier and faster, trading off more pain for less duration.

As he began to thrust in and out, his hands reached around her hips and fondled her pussy and clit. Charlene was moaning constantly as she careened towards yet another orgasm. When it hit her, she buried her face in the table so that he could leave his hands on her cunt. Her spasms against him caused him to start thrusting faster, yet he did not cum right away. His endurance was higher, heading into his second climax in such a short time.

His hands never left her pussy and as she came down, she found herself very sensitive. His fondling was almost painful, yet she merely whimpered, not begging for a stop. She could feel another climax on the horizon and she wanted it. The fullness in her ass had kept her from loosing much in the way of arousal. Her body was beginning to tell her about the little aches and pains from being in one position for so long, but she ignored it, focusing on the pleasure that was building.

George could not believe that he was going to cum again so soon after the last one. That feeling of power was back, if it had left at all. The tightness of her ass didn't hurt either. When Charlene came one more time, her clenching against him sent him over the edge and he emptied into her ass. He collapsed on top of his shuddering wife as he was spent, his cock slowly pulling out as it shrank to normal size.

They remained like that for several minutes before Charlene asked, "Can I be untied now? I'm getting sore."

George took the shirt off her head and undid the ropes holding her legs and neck in place. When he went to untie her hands, she stopped him. "No. Please, I want to leave them on for a while. It feels right, somehow."

Once they were inside, George was able to see Charlene clearly. Her face was covered in drying cum and pussy juice, some of it clumped in sizable globs. There was cum running down her legs from out of both her pussy and ass. Her breasts had indentations from the picnic table on them and were being forced out and up by her hands being behind her back.

"Honey, don't take this wrong, but you look so sexy."

"I feel so used, and that is such a sexy feeling. I can't believe how good I feel right now. George, I had four orgasms! That's never happened before. And you came twice."

"How long do you want to stay tied up?"

"I don't know. This is so weird, but I feel safe with my arms tied behind me. I suppose they'll have to come off so we can shower."

"No, not really. I can always cut them if they jam once they're wet. I don't want to leave them on all night. Come on. I'll give you a shower."

In the shower, George had to do all the cleaning for both of them. Charlene felt wholly loved as her husband washed her entire body with his own hands. The level of pampering he indulged her in was usually done only on special occasions like birthdays and anniversaries. Neither felt up to another round of sex, but they basked in the romantic eroticism of the shared shower. He did have to cut the knots after they dried off. Worn out by the evening's fun and games, they went to bed and slept deeply in each other's arms.

I want to thank D. again for the wonderful editing job. Remember, I value your comments, so feel free to share what you think of my story.



Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 06



Chapter Six

Submission

It was a week before either George or Charlene was able to give the last of the eight fantasies more than a passing thought. George had just won a new contracting job and was knee deep in the process of getting the necessary permits and hiring the right sub-contractors. The crisis pregnancy center had received its seemingly annual request for detailed donation documentation for some of their supporters, a consequence of audit season. Putting everything together kept Charlene (among others) busy five days that week. On top of that, third grade reading assessment had started and the need for volunteers was high there too.

The couple, weary from their responsibilities each day, made time for each other instead of trying to work through anything else, let alone something as emotional as one of them whipping the other. Their dinners seemed to take longer than normal as George needed to release the frustrations he had every time he was forced to deal with the city bureaucracy. It didn't help his nerves any that he also had to deal with state level flunkies (a state grant was paying for part of the work). It was Saturday before he was able to open Wiseman's book. With Charlene putting in another afternoon at the clinic, he opened the book and perused its contents.

Considering what the subject matter was, it was a very practical book. He found that the section on bondage, for example, had suggestions for knots he had not used. While the bow line and taut line were good knots, they had potential problems with anything involving suspended positions. There were also some ties that spread the pressure from struggles or weight.

The section on whipping and spanking confirmed the saleslady's comment at Erotic Boutique. Their selection was not even half of what was available. He found the array of potential ways of inflicting 'erotic pain' a little overwhelming at first. Hell, he had trouble getting his mind wrapped around the idea of erotic pain. The fact that he and Charlene were planning just that did not make it easier to do so. However, the easy style of the book made it approachable.. He found that Janet and Betsy had been right. The bull whip, which belonged to a large class of whips called single tails, was one of the most dangerous, thanks to the ability of the end to break the sound barrier.

Multi-tailed whips, including the famous cat-o-nine-tails, were probably the most varied in their potential effects. Variations in the length, thickness, and material used to make the tails, drastically affected the pain and potential for injury (scourges, technically part of this group, were never used in 'play' since they has sharp metal embedded in them). Some cats could actually be less painful than an open hand spanking! Technique had its place as well. Overhand strikes produced more pain than a twirling motion that George had trouble visualizing.

Looking through other parts of the book was an eye opening experience. He had to smile at the concept of safe words. "Been there, done that," he thought to himself. He grimaced at tattoos and piercings, neither he nor Charlene having a liking for those increasingly popular forms of body art. Branding caused him to blanch. The only thing less conceivable to him than someone wanting to brand someone they cared for was the thought of someone allowing it to happen. He had read most of the book by the time Charlene had returned.

"Hi honey. What's that?" she asked, seeing the book.

"Uh, I picked this up last week. This Wiseman guy wrote a book on how to do things like tying people up and whipping them safely."

Charlene's mouth hung open. "There's an instruction manual for whipping people?"

"Yeah, I guess that's what this is. He seems to know what he's talking about."

"But, you don't write a manual for something only a few people do."

"I imagine not. I guess we're not as weird as we thought we were."

Charlene sat down on the sofa next to George and took the book, looking at it herself. "Hmm. Safe, sane, consensual. I was beginning to wonder about the sane part of what we are doing. So this sort of thing is not crazy? What does he say about whipping?"

"Apparently, our best option is some sort of cat-o-nine-tails." At her look of surprise, he hasted to explain. "They aren't all made the same way. Some are incredibly soft and won't cause serious injuries, even when swung hard. There are places we won't want to whip, like the face, but they can be safe, even gentle."

"Gentle? How can a whipping be gentle?"

"I'm not sure. It sounds like a combination of material and technique. Maybe it's like the difference between a spanking with clothes on or off. At this point, I'm willing to give it a try. If you are too?"

Charlene gulped and started to perspire. "George, I'm frightened."

He put his arm around her. "I know. If you don't want to, we won't. But you have been frightened before and have gotten through it, even enjoyed what scared you."

"I know. But this feels different somehow. It's like we're going to open a door that can't be closed. I think I'm afraid that I will like it."

"...and if you like it, you'll want to try it again."

"Yes. I don't think I will be the same person after this one."

"Dear, everything we do changes us in some way. Remember how frightened you were of accepting Christ? You knew it would change you in a fundamental way and weren't sure you would like the change."

"Yes, I remember. I was right too. It changed me, more than anything else ever did or could."

"Not accepting him changes people too. Remember Steve Miller? He changed too, after he rejected Christ. It was more subtle than your change when you said yes, but it was a change."

"Yes," she responded, the word coming out slowly as she pondered what he was getting at.

"Every decision changes us. The choice for us is not, do we change by acting this one out, but which change will we experience, the one that comes from yes, or the one that comes from no?"

"But I don't know what I'll be like after."

"No you don't. Not after either decision. What I do know is that I will still love you with all my heart, no matter what you choose. And the choice is yours to make. It's your body going under the whip, not mine."

"I need time. I can't choose right now."

"No problem. I understand that it's a hard decision to make. You take all the time you need. If you need to talk more, we can talk. When you're ready, you tell me what the decision is."

"Okay."

The weekend passed with no decision on her part. Charlene struggled with the whole idea. As she looked at the fantasy, it dawned on her that it wasn't exactly the pain she was frightened. It was the reasons that she was accumulating for saying yes. Part of her wanted to say yes simply because it was one of George's fantasies. It being HIS desire seemed to make it hers. She was beginning to see accepting the whipping as an expression of love towards George. Was that even possible?

Tuesday night, she had an idea. If there were so many people out there that did this that someone felt the need to write an instruction manual, maybe there were other sources of information out there as well. Charlene followed several conservative political blogs. She found herself wondering if there were blogs by people who let themselves be whipped or those who did the whipping. Wednesday, she called into the clinic, saying she would not be available that day.

Getting on the net, she started a search on google. The first thing she realized was that she would have to disable her blocking software. It seemed that Cyberpatrol considered sexual games as inappropriate. It took about 15 minutes to narrow the search down enough to get an assortment of blogs by 'submissives' and 'dominant' that she could look at. The first thing that struck her was the incredible variety. Hetero, gay, bi, multiple subs, multiple doms, part time, full time, varying levels of monogamy. The levels of activity involved seemed to be as numerous as the number of blogs.

Some were hard to take. There seemed to be no... relationship between some of the people involved. Some of it was very much like casual sex, only, it was casual dehumanization and objectification. Some, however, seemed to confirm that the feelings she as having were not unheard of. One, written by a young lady calling herself Cherry (Charlene smiled at that one), was very clear on the emotions that were involved when she 'submitted' to her dominant. Her 'Daddy" (that term bothered Charlene, making her think of pedophilia, even though that was clearly not happening here) clearly loved her and wanted what was best for her. Cherry trusted him enough that she accepted his actions and directives even when she did not understand them. Another, written by a wife that submitted to her husband, echoed her feelings exactly. That lady, who called herself pure-blue, submitted because she loved him deeply and felt that doing so was right for them.

What struck her was the sheer enormity of the blogs written by people in a 24/7 submission. They didn't play so much, as they lived this life. There were only a couple of blogs written by part timers, as she thought of them. Those blogs talked almost exclusively about the physical sensations involved in 'scenes.' When they did talk about their reasons, it ended up being about personal satisfaction. There was nothing wrong about that, it just did not speak to Charlene.

Charlene knew now what her decision would be. If she said no, she would always wonder what it would have been like. Yes, she was afraid of how she would react, what she would become once it had happened. She was more frightened, however, of not saying yes. While reading the blogs, she had become aware of an emptiness inside of herself; deep inside. She no longer wanted to do this, she needed to.

That night, she told George. "I want to do it, the whipping fantasy," she announced once dinner was done.

"Okay. I'll go buy the whip tomorrow. When?"

"Friday. I want time for any marks to fade before I have to go out into public again." Charlene had read about marks on the web.

"Do you want to come along with me when I buy the whip?"

"No," she said with a blush. "It would be too embarrassing."

"Okay."

The next day, George returned to the Erotic Boutique. Armed with knowledge, he selected a cat made with wide, soft leather strips about 18 inches long. It would not produce the lightest sensations, but would be almost impossible to injure Charlene with. He also picked up two pairs of fur lined, leather cuffs. He wanted to minimize the damage Charlene could do to herself when she struggled. He could not imagine someone being whipped not struggling against her bindings. The lady at the counter made no special mention of what he was buying. She only inquired as to whether the book had been helpful, to which he said it had been.

Charlene made her own preparations. Since the whipping was supposed to be done with her standing and bound, she figured they would need something to secure her to. She knew from their remodeling project two years ago that the master bath's door was between two studs. She screwed four of the eyebolts she had bought weeks ago into those studs. The upper ones were high enough that George could use his knots to determine how tightly she would be spread.

When she stretched out experimentally she shuddered. She imagined herself naked, unable to move, the whip striking her back. In her head, she could hear the crack of the whip and flinched. Her eyes teared up and her breath became quick.

"God, what am I doing? How can I want this? But I do. I want him to do this. I want to give George myself this much. Why doesn't this feel wrong?" she thought to herself.

That night both Charlene and George were introspective. It was one of those rare evenings when something unspoken stood between them like the proverbial elephant in the room. Both knew that tomorrow, George would take a whip to Charlene, yet they didn't seem to know how or what to say about it. It was as if there was nothing to say. The TV was never turned on that night. They simply sat together in one another's arms, alone with their thoughts. The package from Erotic Boutique lay on their dresser like a ticking timer, reminding them of what was to come. Both slept fitfully that night.

Friday, they both kept busy during the day. Charlene spent the entire school day helping with the reading assessments while George finalized the permits and other paperwork for the new project. She kept dinner light, making cream of tomato soup with grilled cheese sandwiches. Their dinner conversation covered all that they had done during the day, but felt curiously empty of significance. After dinner, while the dishes were being loaded, George broached the subject.

"Do you still want to do this one?"

Charlene nodded silently, not certain she could talk without crying.

"How about we start as soon as the dishes are running?"

Choking back a sob, she nodded. "Okay. If you'll finish this, I'll go get Cherry ready."

"Cherry? I thought I'd be whipping Charlene."

She shook her head. "I... I don't think I could do that. I know it's not the exact fantasy, but I need it to be Cherry."

George took a deep breath and tried to keep the disappointment from showing. "That's fine. Go on. Make sure she's wearing the cuffs in the bag." George knew that this would not be the same. Part of the fantasy was 'breaking' the will of a strong woman. Cherry was a slave and there would be no will to break. He refused to force her into something she did not want to do, though.

Charlene walked back to the bedroom and started the change from herself - Charlene to her Cherry persona. She stripped her clothes off while changing her thoughts to that of a slave with no choice but to obey. The fur lining of the cuffs was soft, a sensuous caressing of her flesh. Once they were on, there was an almost belittling effect on her. She felt more like a slave now than she had in past fantasies. Yet, it felt incomplete in some way. She could not place it, however. Ready, she knelt down at the end of the bed to await her Master.

George entered the bedroom to see her kneeling there, subservient. He had thought about how to set up having to whip Cherry into submission. It would take demanding something of her that she would refuse to do, then whipping her until she agreed to do it. He stood before her.

"Cherry, remember that if you defy me tonight, I will be forced to whip you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master. I understand."

"Suck my cock!"

"No, Master, please don't make me do that. Please Master."

"I warned you Cherry. Stand up."

Charlene stood and George led her to the bathroom doorway. He used lengths of rope to tie her spread eagle in the doorway. Her hands were stretched towards the ceiling and her legs to about three feet apart. When she pulled against them, there was no give. She was immobile and helpless. Her breath was coming in short gasps as fear started to work on her nerves. George walked to the bag and took the whip out. The handle somehow felt right. The soft leather strands slid through his fingers with a seductive ease.

"Last chance. Will you submit and suck my cock?"

"No Master, I can't."

"The punishment will continue until you agree to submit. How long it goes is up to you."

George bent his arm back and flicked the whip against her ass. It made a soft slapping sound and Charlene gasped. She was surprised at how little it hurt. There was a mild sting, that was it. The next strike landed against her legs. She moaned and wriggled on the ropes. Again and again, the lashes landed on her, drawing little sounds that were difficult to tell whether they were sounds of pain or pleasure. George slowly increased the force he was using. About five minutes into the whipping, he was starting to see red lines appear on her skin.

The strokes were starting to truly hurt now. Charlene had tears running in her eyes, yet, she felt no impulse to scream. Somehow the pain was not overwhelming her. The spanking had been far worse in spite of the fact that she was sure, in the back of her mind, that the whip was now hurting more than any of the spanks. Even more surprising was how wet she had become and how erect her nipples were. She couldn't think straight, but she knew that there was something important going on inside of her.

Charlene had never heard of sub space and would have been shocked if anyone had told her she had reached it (she had not yet read any blog entries that mentioned it). George's desire to not injure her had inadvertently led to making it possible for her to do so. The soft lashes and light strokes had 'warmed' her up and the slow increase in force had accidentally matched her body and mind's ability to absorb the pain. Charlene floated in that wondrous place as the levels of pain increased.

It had gone on for 15 minutes and George was putting significant weight behind his blows. Charlene was crying out in pain, yet, he could make out a smile on her face. He had no idea that such a thing was possible and was a little frightened of it. He didn't want to stop something that Charlene was obviously enjoying to a significant extent, but her back and legs were so covered in red stripes that he was becoming concerned about injury. He was exceptionally aware of his inexperience and did not trust his own judgment completely. He was pretty sure that Charlene had forgotten that she was supposed to be being whipped into submission.

George stopped the whipping and moved up to Charlene's back. He took her hair in his hand, pulled back, and demanded, "Are you ready to submit?"

His sudden change jerked her back to reality and the truth of the pain hit her like a sledge hammer. While not as bad as it would have been if he had still been whipping her, the residual pain forced a loud wail out of her throat. Sobs began to wrack her body as she nodded and gasped, "Yes, Master, I submit. I will do as you ask."

With a gentler voice, he asked, "Can you handle it. Does it hurt too much to suck me?"

Charlene shook her head, saying, "I can Master. I can."

George released all four cuffs, holding her when she began to fall. Lowering Charlene to her knees, he doffed his pants and briefs to release his erect cock. Groaning at the fire in her back, Charlene leaned forward and took him into her mouth. Her tears were still running down her cheeks, but the pain was diminishing a bit with time. It took very little time for his orgasm to arrive. The sight of her reddened back and tear streaked face turned out to be an incredible turn on. With George already highly aroused, only a little of her tongue swirling around his cock was needed for him to blast an immense amount of cum down her throat.

When he had finished, he knelt down with her. Taking her into his arms, she gasped at the contact with her back, he brought one hand to her pussy and caressed it. His fingers slid easily into her sopping cunt and Charlene arched against him with moans of pleasure. She had been riding high and came quick and hard with another scream. As her body shook, she grasped her husband tight and held on, unable to stay on her knees by herself.

George insisted on giving Charlene a bath afterwards. He knew from his work in construction how easy it was for the smallest of cuts in the skin to become horribly infected, especially if the skin was as wet with sweat and body oils as Charlene's was now. After the initial burst of new pain from the immersion into the soapy water, her pain eased under the soothing effects of the warmth from the water. Not long after being dried off, while George was rubbing her back with an aloe body rub, Charlene fell asleep. George looked over her backside carefully for any breaks in the skin and was pleased to find none.




Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 06



The red lines faded over the course of the weekend until they resembled a strangely patterned sunburn on Monday. Unlike the previous fantasies, they did not talk about this one the next day. The unexpected results had them both at a loss for words, but it was something else that did more to keep them uncharacteristically silent. For George, it was disappointment. This had been his fantasy, yet he did not feel that they had actually done it. Charlene's insisting on him whipping Cherry had stolen something from it. He was reluctant to say anything, given how guilty he had felt for simply writing the thing down.

Charlene wasn't even sure why she didn't want to talk about it. She struggled with how much she had enjoyed the whipping. Yes, it had hurt, but it had been enjoyable too. Now, afterwards, there was something else. Disappointment. The why eluded her. She had actually enjoyed the whipping. She had given George head with no feelings of panic. The orgasm afterwards had been fantastic! Yet, she was disappointed.

The feeling haunted her. Every day, she trolled the submissive blogs to try to make sense of her feelings, both during and after. By the end of the week, she had figured out what sub space was and that she had somehow obtained it. Try as she might, she could not figure out why there was that disappointment. No one on the blogs was sharing such a thing. They shared their struggles with giving up control, their joys when they succeeded and their frustrations when their Masters were absent for any length of time. None of these seemed to apply to her.

Eight days had passed since the whipping. Not only had they not talked about it, they had not touched on the subject of sex and fantasies at all. Charlene's concern about the disappointment had grown so large that she could not avoid sharing it. Saturday morning, after breakfast, she asked George if they could talk.

"I need to talk about the whipping fantasy."

"We have been putting it off. It seems hard to find what to say."

"I've been trying to figure my reactions and I can't pin it down. I actually enjoyed the whipping. It hurt, but was enjoyable as well. I was able to give you a blow job without panic and I had a killer orgasm. But, I'm feeling disappointed in it somehow. I don't know why and I can't imagine a reason that would make sense."

"I had no idea. I can't imagine why you would be disappointed. I should tell you that I was disappointed to, but I know why."

"Why?"

"Because it was Cherry instead of you."

"Was it that important?"

"Yes. Remember, the fantasy was to break the will of a strong woman to mine, to get her to submit. Cherry is a slave and has no will of her own to break. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed what we did, but it wasn't what I originally wanted from the fantasy."

"I wonder if that's why I was disappointed. Because you were."

"Not likely. You didn't know until just now."

"George, I feel like a kid who has gotten her favorite ice cream and still isn't satisfied for some reason. I'm feeling kind of ungrateful."

"Don't be. You didn't do anything wrong."

Charlene wasn't so sure. Still, it was out in the open and she hoped that that would be enough to resolve the problem. It wasn't. The feeling not only did not go away, it got worse. It didn't have a serious effect on the rest of her life, but it did affect sex. She started having difficulty orgasming. She hadn't gone without yet, but it was taking more to achieve climax. George assumed it was a response to the intensity of the fantasies and figured it would pass eventually if they held off form reenacting any more.

Charlene realized that she need some way to ask about her problem, not just read about other people's. She started checking out other types of sites. There was an extensive support system for people into this BDSM thing. Toys and equipment could be ordered online. Advice and instructional sites. Chat rooms. The chat rooms seemed to be what she was looking for. Real time interaction with experienced players.

At first, she lurked. Unlike other chatters, these people seemed to expect that someone might just watch and not respond. After the first couple of times that she did not respond to greetings, she was left alone. Strangely, much of the online conversation had nothing to do with play. They talked about the same sort of things that people talked about in person. She watched them interact, seeing who were friends, who seemed to know what they were talking about, who the jerks were. It was refreshing to see how the chatters that frequented the room would rise to the defense of someone that was being preyed upon. When play was discussed, it was usually a question about something or someone wanting to share some particularly good piece of news. Two weeks after the whipping, she stuck her toe in.

{Hi}

There were several responses that essentially said {Hi lady511} back (lady511 was Charlene's handle). One person, identified as mentor27 said {Hi. Glad you are feeling comfy}

Lady511: thanks. Can I ask questions?

Mentor27: of course. We'd be honored

Lady511: has anyone ever- I don't know how to ask

Hissub63: just type. We know you're a newbie. Worst case-NOYB

Lady511: have you had a good scene and been disappointed later?

Hissub63: no, sorry

Slavebound: subdrop

Mentor27: what kind of disappointment?

Lady511: what's subdrop? Like something went wrong, but was really good, I enjoyed it

Slavebound: missing the good that was after its gone

Mentor27: doesn't sound like subdrop

Hissub63: slavebound's wrong

Mentor27: not now, help the lady-do you know what went wrong?

Lady511: no really frustrated- affecting sex

Hissub63: not good

Mentor27: can you describe scene—briefly

Lady511: embarrassed

Slavebound: we've done all between us, don't be. We're friends and understand

Hissub63; what he said

Goingslave: want to help, don't know who you are

Mentor27: all right—take time if you need

Lady511: it was a whipping fantasy

Hissub63: yeah, we've done those?

Lady511: pretending to make me submit

Mentor27: go on—doing great

Lady511: was painful and enjoyable at same time

Slavebound: floating?

Lady511:yes!

Hissub63: sub space—cool beans—most newbies can't do

Mentor27: anything else

Lady511: had big O

Goingslave: I'll bet!

Mentor27: when disappointment?

Lady511: next day and since

Slavebound: who's fantasy?

Lady511: his

Mentor27: was He disappointed?

Hissub63: did he enjoy?

Lady511: he enjoyed—was disappointed too

Mentor27: why?

Lady511: he wanted me, got Cherry

Mentor27: Cherry?

Lady511: me pretending to be slave

Slavebound: uh oh

Hissub63: not good

Slavebound: you took control?

Lady511: sorry?

Mentor27: hold on guys—it's okay—go private?

Lady511: okay

Charlene and Mentor27 went into private chat mode.

Mentor27: going to get personal—might want privacy

Lady511: thanks

Mentor27: did you expect to enjoy the whipping?

Lady511: no

Mentor27: why do it?

Lady511: needed to

Mentor27: describe need

Lady511: emptiness inside—only way to fill

Mentor27: keep going

Lady511: I needed to give him the fantasy—but more to it

Mentor27: I know—explore—what more?

Lady511: can't—wanted to give him something, can't describe

Mentor27: are you 24/7

Lady511: no—why?

Mentor27: do you want to be?

Charlene leaned back from her key board with a gasp. She had typed "yes" before she realized what she was doing. Looking at the question and her answer, she could not think straight. Is that what she wanted? To be George's slave all the time? She looked at the screen and saw that Mentor27 has typed, "Still there?"

Lady511: still here

Mentor27: can you answer?

Lady511: I think I do—terrified

Mentor27: normal—talk it through

Lady511: I love him—want to be his everything

Mentor27: and now...

Lady511: there's more to give him

Mentor27: yes

Lady511: it's so much

Mentor27: yes it is

Lady511: what do I do?

Mentor27: only you can answer—why disappointed?

Lady511: don't know

Mentor27: yes you do

Lady511: is that what I wanted

Mentor27: I think so—disappointment from taking control you didn't want—you wanted to be broken

Lady511: I'm afraid

Mentor27: I know—normal

Lady511: what do I do

Mentor27: can you go back to before?

Lady511: no

Mentor27: can you stay where you are?

Lady511: no

Mentor27: where's left?

Lady511: go ahead?

Mentor27: yes

Lady511: I need to be broken—be His always

Mentor27: I think so

Lady511: frightened

Mentor27: okay to be—will be better once you are

Lady511: broken is better?

Mentor27: not for all—for natural subs/slaves

Lady511: like me

Mentor27: was this first scene?

Lady511: no

Mentor27: look at others—common factors

Lady511: need to go

Mentor27: okay—glad to help

Charlene logged off. She thought back to the fantasies they had enacted. Being bound. Being taken against her will. Being taken anally. Even the breast fucking and the cum painting were about her being George's plaything, taking pleasure from her. She realized that Mentor27 was right. George himself had said it. He wanted to break her. She had prevented that. It didn't matter what she was being whipped into submitting to. It was that She was doing the submitting. This was the need she had felt. The disappointment was from the need not being filled. Charlene had allowed her fear to deprive both of them of the satisfaction that the fantasy had promised them.

She knew what she had to do. There were two hours before George would get home. She drove to the Erotic Boutique. Inside, she looked at the whips. She chose one with longer lashes made form a harder leather. Looking around, she saw that no one could see her (she didn't notice the shoplifting mirror) and slapped it hard across her leg. It hurt a lot. Just what she wanted. Charlene wanted to not float tonight. She wanted George to put her in so much pain that she would submit to anything. This should do the job. She paid for it and drove home.

When George arrived, he found an unexpected sight. Charlene was waiting for him with the cuffs on. She was still dressed, but was holding a whip, a different whip from the one they had used earlier.

"Charlene, what's going on?"

"George. I think I've figured out why I was so disappointed after the whipping fantasy."

"That's good. Why?"

"I wanted, no, I needed you to break my will, force me to submit to whatever you wanted. I made you whip Cherry. That wasn't what either of us wanted, but I was frightened."

"So, you want to do it again?"

"Not exactly. I want it for real this time. I bought a new whip. This one will hurt, a lot. I won't enjoy it. I want you to demand something from me, anything you want. Then whip me until I give it to you. Don't stop until I give in."

George felt desire and fear rising simultaneously. "Charlene. Do you realize what you're saying?"

"Yes. I want to give you anything and everything. I want you to take from me something I don't want to give you."

"Are there any limits on what I can demand?"

"No." With a shudder she continued, "You can demand that I submit to a daily shower of pee and I know that eventually I will submit to it. You can demand anything at all." She left unspoken what she really wanted him to demand.

"Let me think about it during dinner."

Dinner was quiet. They stayed in their own thoughts. Charlene was strangely at peace with herself. This was right and proper. She could see how the first giving of herself to him as Cherry to overcome her fear of fellatio led to this as an inevitable destination. She loved her husband and would do anything for him, everything for him. George's thought were not so calm. From the moment she had told him what she wanted, one thought had run through his mind. He knew what he wanted, but would she hate him for it? It was such a big thing, the biggest of their lives together. It was seeing her sitting there, serene and at peace with herself and them that decided it.

After dinner, they retired to the bedroom. Without a word between them, Charlene stripped and George tied her in place. Flicking the new whip on his arm, he saw that she was right. This one would hurt. Enjoyment for Charlene was not in the cards, at least not the enjoyment of a physical kind. It was likely she would enjoy it emotionally.

Walking up behind her, he asked, "Are you ready?"

She took a deep breath and answered, "Yes. What do you demand of me?"

There was a pause as he braced himself to say what he wanted. Turning away from both their last chances to back away from this commitment, he lowered his voice and demanded, "Charlene. I demand that you submit as my slave permanently. I want Charlene as my slave at all times, not Cherry."

Charlene let her breath out. A smile crossed her face as she said, "No. I will not be your slave."

"Very well then. When you're ready to submit, the whipping will stop."

George stepped back, raised his hand, and made the first stroke with all his strength. Charlene screamed in pain and ecstasy at the first stroke and all the strokes that followed, until she whispered through her sobs, "I am yours Master."

The End

*

Thanks to D. for her usual bang up job of editing. I hope you enjoyed this story. I will be starting on a sequel story to Valerie entitled "Stranger than Truth". The first chapter should be writeen and up in a couple of weeks, I hope.