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I Had the Best Intentions

By: abob1



My wife was standing naked in front of our bedroom mirror. Again.

This has become a regular occurrence over the last couple months, as her self-image has slowly but steadily plummeted. When we wed ten years ago, she was a certified ten: five foot eight inches, chestnut hair, a slender, toned body and a girl-next-door face that would soften the heart of the cruelest dictator. 

But in her mind, breast-feeding our twin boys (now three years old and spending the week at my parents'), and motherhood in general, had severely impacted her body. I could not disagree more.

As I sat on the bed behind her, I admired her supple cheeks, not as firm as they were in college, but still shapely and fun to squeeze. Her legs had lost some of the definition they acquired when we would jog, but they would still draw the attention of a crowd when adorned in a miniskirt. Despite her negative opinion of herself, most people would still consider her a catch.

She ran her fingers over the lingering scar from the cesarean, and her palms slid over the stretch marks, faded but prevalent. I had tried to convince her in the past that she should be proud of these. 

"Sweetheart, scars are pretty bad-ass," I had argued. "Especially ones from which life is extracted." But she wasn't having it. 

Cupping her breasts in her hands, lifting them to where they used to rest at peak perkiness, her eyes closed in disappointment. I watched her reaction in the mirror.

"Honey," I said. "You know you are still as beautiful as ever."

"You have to say that," she retorted, turning back from the mirror and climbing into bed. She slid under the sheets and turned her back to me, a familiar sequence since our sons joined the family.

"Just because I have to say it doesn't mean it isn't true, Nicole," I offered as I slid behind her and put my hand on her waist. 

"I'm sorry honey, but I don't believe you. And I'm not in the mood," she said, removing my hand and turning back into her cocoon. 

I rolled onto my back and huffed loudly, my only way of expressing how frustrating our lack of intimacy was becoming. 

"Just try to cheer up a bit before Heather and Mark come over tomorrow for dinner. You won't make much of a host in your current state."

She remained quiet, either because she was ignoring me or because she had already drifted asleep. 

.....

Heather and Mark lived across the street, and though they were twelve years our senior, at 46, we were closer to them than any of our other neighbors. Since our kids were born, we did not have as much time for hosting them, or even visiting them, for that matter. But with our boys at my parents' house for the week, we decided to ask them to dinner.

After I had set the table and Nicole had prepared dinner, she ran upstairs to get dressed. I followed her, hoping to have a say in what she would wear.

"Honey, why don't you put this one on," I said, pulling out a simple but sexy black dress. "You have always been a knockout in this."

Nicole had already pulled on a pair of jeans and was picking out a low cut, tight fitting t-shirt. "I don't think so, love," she said. "It is not that formal a party."

"This isn't over the top, and it might make you feel a little sexier, don't you think?"

Nicole shook her head, visibly frustrated that I was trying to help her get dressed, and not wanting to think about her body image. "I'm happy with this," she said, pulling on the shirt. 

She did look good. The jeans hugged her in all the right places, and her shirt and bra provided about four inches of cleavage. While her breasts had sagged a bit, they still looked ample when stuffed in a bra.

I returned downstairs as Nicole worked on her hair. Pacing, expecting Heather and Mark in a few minutes, I pondered ways to convince Nicole that I truly think she is sexy, and that others do, too. I picked up the phone and kept my eyes on the top of the stairs to make sure she wasn't on her way down.

Heather answered, "Hello?"

"Heather, its John. Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Nicole has been incredibly down on herself lately. Could you make a big deal about how great she looks tonight?"

"Sure, of course I will. Do you want me to ask Mark to say something, too? It might seem obvious coming from me."

"OK, whatever you think," I said. "So long as you think he can do it without it seeming awkward."

Heather laughed, forcing me to hold the phone away from my ear. "I think he can manage," she said.

.....

Nicole had prepared roasted chicken with balsamic reduction, alongside mushroom risotto and ginger carrots. She had learned from her mother, the best cook I ever knew, and managed the kitchen so meticulously that her dinner presentations were flawless. Even if she was down on her body image, I knew she felt confident in the kitchen. Her meals commanded applause, were that kind of thing socially acceptable.

I, always in search of a new wine to pair with her cuisine, had decanted two bottles of negroamaro from Puglia. Dark, rustic and earthy, with oaky notes and leathery accents, it accentuated every nuance in Nicole's fare, which only inspired us to drink it faster. The manner in which the four of us consumed Nicole's cooking was a cross between scarfing and savoring. Her food flew off the plate to a chorus close-lipped accolades. 

As we finished our meal and I poured the last of the decanter into our guests' glasses the customary compliments started flowing. 

"Everything was delicious!" Mark exclaimed. "Thanks so much, Nicole."

"I second that," said Heather. "We never eat so well as when we eat here."

"I feel like I am the luckiest man in the world," I said. "A wife who looks like this AND can cook!"

"Honey, please!" Nicole blushed as I put my arm around her shoulders. PDA was not her thing.

"You really did luck out, pal," said Mark. He opened his mouth as if to continue, but stopped himself. I had a feeling he was going to say something borderline crude and thought better of it.

Heather, however, had clearly been impacted by the two bottles of wine we had consumed.

"I'm sorry to be so blunt, Nicole, but your tits look fucking amazing in that top!" 

Nicole's eyes shot wide and her face reddened deeper, and I coughed the water I had just sipped back into its glass. The room fell silent for about three seconds, and then erupted in laughter. Even Nicole mustered a chuckle.

It was a contagious laughter, we all fed each other, around the table, it lasted minutes. 

It ended abruptly, unfortunately, when, after taking one last swig of wine, Mark took things too far. 

"Hell," he said. "I'd fuck 'em!" The room again fell silent, but this time no laughter followed.

Heather backhanded him across the chest. "What the fuck, babe?" she chastised. 

"That is just a little too familiar, don't you think?" I said.

"Hey man, I was just trying to help you out," he defended. 

I shut my eyes and my heart fell to my stomach. My well-intended ploy was revealed.

"What?" Nicole asked. "What does that mean?"

"N...Nothing," he said. "I've said too much." 

"You think!?" I said in an elevated tone just short of yelling. 

"Did you ask them to say things like that?" Nicole asked me. 

"No, babe. Why would I do that?"

Nicole looked across the table, where Mark and Heather were confessing simply by avoiding eye contact with her.

"Unbelievable," she said as she slid her chair back and stormed out of the room.

I sat there breathing heavily, trying to calm my nerves.

"Sorry, man," said Mark. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"Me neither," I said. "I should have just left well enough alone. I'm not mad at you."

Heather and Mark excused themselves, officially ending the night. When I went upstairs, the bedroom door was locked.

"Go away," she said firmly.

"Honey, please. I did not ask Mark to say anything like that! Yes, I asked Heather if she would complement you, but I never intended for Mark to be so vulgar. I'm sorry!"

I sensed that this could be a pivotal point in our marriage, and was already stressing about how large a wedge might have been driven between us.

Nicole opened the door for a brief second, only to throw my pajamas and a suit in my face, and then slammed the door shut. I took the hint. Sleep on the couch and go to work the next morning without speaking to her. 

Returning to the couch, I realized it wasn't all bad. Without her lying right next to me, at least I could masturbate now. I took advantage, closing my eyes and envisioning that one glorious orgasm I had elicited from her nearly four years ago now. It was all I needed. Finding release for the first time in nearly two weeks, I finished in to my sock and drifted asleep.

.....

The following afternoon is when this story really became interesting. I had spent all day at work fretting about the night before, and decided to bail early and try to smooth things over with Nicole. When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed the house seemed deserted, which was confirmed when I stepped inside and called for Nicole. 

For a few minutes, I was worried she had taken off, maybe to her mother's, perhaps to the spa. I walked to our bedroom and, not finding her, leaned against the window sill and let my forehead fall against the glass. 

What was I doing? If Nicole was so disappointed in her image, and she wouldn't believe anyone but herself, why was I so insistent on making her feel better? I was fighting a losing battle.

Still, I knew I would persist. I would persist because I loved her, and above all else, I wanted her to be happy. From the first time we made love to the last, I always made sure she came first. All I ever wanted from sex was to bring her extreme satisfaction.

My all-time greatest image was of her moaning beneath me, her arms wrapped around my back as her hips gently bucked off the mattress towards my thrusting, throbbing member. Our lips were interlocked, tongues dancing, my hand on her right breast. Together, we screamed in orgasm as her clasping pussy sucked the cum right out of me. It was incredible.

It was also the night we conceived, and we have yet to repeat it. My dream has been to bring that moment back to life, for me but especially for her. The passion and pleasure in her face that night was undeniable and ineffable. Bringing her to that level of elation once only made me yearn to do it again and again.

As the memory of that beautiful night passed, I opened my eyes and as startled to see Nicole scurrying across the street from Heather and Mark' house. Relieved, I ran downstairs to greet her.

She was walking in the house as I reached the living room.

"John!" she shouted, more in shock than in joy. "What are you doing home?"

"Babe, I came home to apologize for last night. I want to clear the air."

"Oh," she said. "It's OK. I realize now that you were just trying to prop me up."

"Exactly! There were probably better ways to go about it, but you never believe me when I say it. I thought I would have to bring in support. I just didn't expect Mark to go all perverted on you."

"Yeah, that was a little shocking."

"Did you just come from talking with Heather?"

"No," she admitted. "Mark, actually."

She could tell from the cockeyed look on my face that I needed more of an explanation.

"I needed to clear things up with him. I don't want one drunken comment to affect the strong relationship the four of us have built."

"I see," I said. "What did he say?"

"Well, it was a little awkward, I guess. He said that Heather told him you had called and asked her to be complimentary last night. And that she, in turn, asked him to back her up. He said that even though he was asked to say it, he meant it. I think he was just trying to keep up the charade, but it was nice of him to try."

The fact that he was so blunt last night, and that he would continue to press the issue today made me questions Mark' true motive, but I brushed it aside for now.

"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. Please just know it was well-intentioned."

"I know that now, Love. It's OK." 

It was the first time she called me 'Love' in quite some time, and when she stepped in close to hug me and nuzzle her face in my shoulder, I was convinced that she meant it. .....

That night Nicole slept comfortably while I lay awake. The image of Mark fucking my wife's tits had crept into my imagination and was not going away. And there was something about the way Nicole had forgiven me so quickly this afternoon, as if she was compensating for something. The notion that she might be having an affair kept me up all night. It would also explain why she never wanted or needed to have sex with me anymore.

I resigned myself to investigate. 

The following morning, I kissed Nicole good bye and jumped in my car. But instead of driving to work, I circled the block and parked down the street. As I sat there over the next three hours, keenly eyeing the front door of my house, my mind raced through multiple scenarios.

What if I caught her, with Mark or with someone else? What would I do? What if nothing happened? How long would I wait? I went through every angle of attack if I caught them together. 

Would I start by throwing a punch, ask questions later? No, that would be stupid. I played out every possible strategy in my head, and no matter how I might fight Mark, it would not end well for me. Winding up beaten, on the floor in front of my cheating, half-naked wife would be the ultimate humiliation, and would certainly ruin any possibility of maintaining our marriage.

Would I hold both of them accountable, or just one or the other? I thought about who would be more at fault. Mark, for proposing it or Nicole for giving in?

I realized that I was getting way too far ahead of myself, and that I would let whatever happened dictate my response. 

Soon, my fears were justified. I watched Nicole stick her head out of our front door and look both ways, before prancing across the street towards Mark and Heather's house. I knew that Heather was at work, and that Mark, a freelance writer, was almost always home. The chances of an affair mounted.

I quietly ran towards the house and peaked through the window, being careful to remain hidden. In the inner hallway, Mark was pinning my wife against the wall and kissing her hard. She had her hands planted flat against the wall behind her, almost in an unwilling fashion, but her mouth visibly returned his kisses.

He broke off their kiss and grabbed her hand, pulling her down the hall. I only now noticed that she was wearing the black dress that I asked her to wear two nights before. I was fuming, but wanted to see where this was going. Nicole still displayed a subtle air of unwillingness.

I moved around the side of the house so I could peak in the bedroom window. As I arrived, Mark pushed Nicole backwards into the room and right onto the bed. She lifted he legs onto the mattress and pulled her knees up, spreading them apart. Mark knelt down in front of her and drove his tongue right into her pussy. 'She's not wearing panties,' I thought to myself in astonishment. So much for the air of unwillingness.

Nicole never let me eat her out. She always claimed she was self-conscious or embarrassed. I thought it was because she hated giving head and was nervous that if I gave her oral, I would expect her to return the favor. Either way, as I watched her fingers interlace with his hair, my anxiety, my fury, escalated. 

Part of me wanted to rap on the window and let them know they'd been had. Another part considered ringing the doorbell. But I froze. I froze not because I was scared, but because I noticed the look on Nicole's face. It was pure ecstasy. It was the look I had been trying to give her for the last three years.

As Mark brought her to orgasm with his tongue, she bucked her hips up and ground against his face. Whether this had started yesterday or years ago, Nicole clearly had found a source for sexual bliss. Isn't that what I wanted for her? Was I so altruistic that my anger subsided when I realized how happy Nicole was?

Then, something truly strange occurred. I noticed that my cock was stirring, growing quickly as it rubbed against my boxers. Was I turned on by this?

As Nicole came down from her high, Mark pulled her off the bed and onto her knees next. He dropped his trousers to reveal a raging erection, flopping in front of her face. Nicole obediently opened her mouth and he guided it inside her.

'What the fuck?' I said out loud as she wrapped her tongue around his pork and swallowed. She only did this to me before we were married, as if she was trying to win me over. Since our kids were born, it was vanilla sex and hand jobs. Now, here she was letting our neighbor, 12 years older, fuck her face.

Shamefully, I started rubbing my dick through my slacks, giving in to the fact that this turned me on. While part of me was glad she was enjoying herself, another part of me wanted her to suffer. I wanted him to jam his cock down her throat and make her gag on it. I wanted him to...

"Excuse me? What the fuck do you think you are doing?" a sharp voice distracted my thought process. I turned to see Heather marching towards me.

"Oh, John. What is going on?" she asked after recognizing me, though still clearly confused as to why I was pinned against the side of her house near her bedroom window.

As means of explanation, I stepped back from the window and gestured towards it. She craned her head inside and gasped.

"Mark!" she shouted in a whisper, her hands covering her mouth in an almost reflexive manner. "How could he?"

She turned as if to make her way to the front door.

"Heather, wait!" I said. "Don't do anything rash?"

"Rash?" she said. "Rash? Our spouses are in there fucking and you are stroking yourself in the backyard. What do you want me to do?"

"Look," I tried to reason. "If we remain quiet for now, if they think we don't know, then we have the power. We can use this against them."

Heather calmed down a little. "I want revenge, Heather, but if we burst in there right now we show all our cards. I want Nicole to suffer for this, not live with the satisfaction that she had an affair and I could do nothing about it."

Heather looked back into the room. "Any idea how long this has been going on?"

"I think it may have started yesterday, but it could be months. I am not sure."

"There is no way this has been going on that long. He is going too easy on her."

"That is taking it easy?" I asked as I watched him jackhammer into her mouth. Nicole's hands were at his hips, trying to slow his speed, but he was having none of it. Heather and I watched as Mark took Nicole's arms and guided them behind her back. He said something to her, and in response she grabbed her elbows. Mark grabbed her head and started fucking her mouth harder.

"See that closet back there? It is loaded with BDSM gear. He likes to play rough. He is one sick freak, let me tell you. There are days where I have to wear certain clothing to hide the marks."

"Geez, Heather. I had no idea."

"Well, don't feel bad. I'm the same way. We both like to be dominant, so we trade roles routinely. The reason no one outside our marriage has ever seen our basement is because it is a bona fide dungeon."

I looked at Heather, slumped beneath her bedroom window, sitting motionless like an extra bag of mulch, unneeded yet undisposed. A disorienting slurry of emotions was spinning through my mind. Anger, for sure, at my wife and Mark. Sorrow and pity for Heather. This infuriating arousal that I wished would relinquish its hold on me. It took a few seconds for Heather's words to penetrate this swirling emotional barricade, but once it did, it triggered a risky but potentially all-encompassing solution to this scanrio.


I Had the Best Intentions Ch. 02



~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The Road back from hell - my ending to abob1's series I Had the Best Intentions. He has generously invited me to see what I could do for an ending. I'm certain it will be different from his.

http://www.literotica.com/s/i-had-the-best-intentions

abob1's story is about a wife with self-esteem issues. She turns to the neighbor for support, only to find out he and his wife are into BDSM, and she is abused in their basement, with the husband willingly watching. She's not aware of his presence, and the situation is not what he had intended. She has the most extreme sexual response of her life, and the husband is left wondering where things will go next. At the end of the story, he's discussing the future, after getting a blowjob, then being released from his own restraints, which he wanted no part of. The wife has been instructed to either get dressed and leave, or go upstairs and like naked on the bed for more punishment.

In my version John, the aggrieved hubby wants to take back control of his life. He does so, very aggressively. Very. This is not a nice story, but as with most of mine, I try to make the punishment fit the crime. 

Thanks to abob1, for generously providing permission to work with I Had the Best Intentions.

I like finishing stories. I guess I'm a little weird. Sometimes they are stories that have been abandoned. Others are open invitations. In a case like this, the author is still active, but he has invited me to offer up my own ending to his story.

When offered the opportunity, I'll give you my idea of an ending. Fair warning though, I don't write about total wimps. May not be BTB, all nuclear and shit, but no voluntary cucks, or whiny simpering wimps.

Some of you won't like my endings. That's fair enough. I'm happy to hear your reasons. This is only one author's idea of a fitting resolution. You're welcome to try your hand at writing your own. I hope you enjoy this one.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"Well," he said, "I left her upstairs and gave her two options. I told her she could either get dressed and go home, or she could go up to our bedroom and lie naked on the bed and wait for us."

"What did she do?" I asked. 

"We will find out. I gave her five minutes to make up her mind. Until then...we wait."

The five minutes were the longest of my life. I stood quietly, trying to decide what I wanted to do. I was torn. I had seen a new side of my wife that I had never expected. I watched her experience the pleasure I desired for her, at the hands of another.

I had been excited to see her orgasms torn from her, but in the afterglow of the incredible blowjob I'd recieved, all I could think about were her screams, her begging to be released, and her shame afterward. It hurt.

At the same time, I was furious. That Mark had come on to my wife, used her without my knowledge, and then abused her sexually the way he had made my blood boil. I had agreed to let them dominate her, but I had never expected the torture she'd been put through. Raping her virgin ass was beyond the pale.

Heather was supposed to be on my side. She'd been enraged when it all started, but once she had me handcuffed and gagged, she was the more vicious one. I started to suspect I was setup. She had gone along so easily, acting furious at my wife, with no repercussions for her cheating husband. Instead, it seemed like he'd been rewarded, with complete access to my wife's mouth and ass. I recalled her first words to my wife, that she'd only been upset that she wasn't invited.

I feared where this would lead, if I didn't take over control of my wife and my life. I wanted to know how to pleasure her, to give her what she needed, but at this rate, she'd soon be someone else's woman not mine. I couldn't allow that to happen. Certainly not to that backstabbing asshole.

While I stood there pondering my potential actions, Heather looked up at the clock. "It's been seven minutes. I think I should see where the night will lead us." She smirked as she said it, and sauntered up the stairs. My heart leapt into my throat, at the idea of the two of them continuing to use and abuse her, torturing her, slowly stealing her from me.

Mark was avoiding looking at me, putting away their toys. His nakedness was a constant reminder of what he'd done. I don't know what came over me, it was unplanned, but I saw the steel leg spreader he'd used on my wife laying on the table. I picked it up, and when he leaned over the cabinet to put something on the bottom, I hit him across the back of the head with all my might, the impact making a loud crack. He dropped like a rock.

In moments I had him handcuffed, and gagged with the same ball-gag used on me. The gag made him inhale through his nose, but at least he was still breathing. I scanned the cabinet, and came up with a long whip, like a bullwhip, but only six feet or so long, and a second pair of handcuffs. I pulled Mark out of view, and waited for the return of Heather.

It was only a few moments later she came down the stairs. I heard her long before I saw her. "She's not in the bedroom. I have to admit I'm surprised . . . AHHH!"

She screamed out as I whipped her the moment she appeared in the room. I wrapped the whip around her neck, and pulled her to the ground. Putting her on her belly, she was screaming as I pulled her arms behind her and handcuffed her.

"John!" she screamed. "What the hell?"

I lifted the whip and made her shriek as it came down across her back. Even through the black leather, it seemed to cause her significant pain. "I'm not John down here. You will call me Master, you conniving cunt, or you will suffer."

She shook her head. "No! This isn't what... AAAAAH!" she cried as I whipped her again. 

"Shut up, or I will flay the skin off your body, slut. This is not a game."

She was shaking. "Please, John. This...AAARGH!" I struck her three times in a row, on her legs, her ass, her back. She finally shut up, shaking, crying. I figure an experienced woman like her should be able to handle a little pain. The tears were as likely from fear as from the actual whipping. Good, she should be afraid.

I returned to the cabinet, looking at my options. First, I needed to make sure I had absolute control over both of them. They had plenty of ropes, in different colors and thicknesses. I found a gag for Heather, and forced it in her mouth. I tied her feet together, and added some rope around her hands, doubling up with the handcuffs. I dragged her to the corner by her hair, and dumped her there.

Mark was still unconscious. I was a bit concerned I'd overdone it, hitting him as I had. I checked and he was breathing. I had some ideas for how to wake him. I tied his feet together, and wrapped his hands in rope. It was sloppy, but I didn't do this for a hobby. My only purpose was to immobilize him. When I was happy, I found what I was looking for, near the center of the room. A metal hook hung from the ceiling. I threw the rope up through it, attached one end to the handcuffs around Mark's wrists, and started pulling. It took a good bit of effort and I was sweating heavily by the time I had him standing, his hands stretched out above him, dangling from the hook. I tied off the rope to the hook where my wife had previously been hung. It seemed fitting.

With the instigator taken care of, I returned to Heather. She shrunk away from me, and squirmed while I dragged her to the table where they'd punished my wife. I bent her over the padded table, and it didn't take me long to have her legs positioned exactly as Nicole's had been. I returned to the cabinet, where I'd seen Mark hang the keys to the handcuffs, and retrieved them. I climbed on top of the table, sitting on her back, to avoid too much fighting. Once I unlocked the handcuffs, she tried to wriggle free, but was helpless against my full weight pinning her down. A couple of minutes later, her hands were cuffed, a perfect copy of my wife's predicament less than an hour earlier.

I had been acting solely on instinct, but I finally felt fully in control. They weren't going anywhere. I spent a few minutes familiarizing myself with the cabinets contents. In a drawer I found a pair of surgical scissors. They were inspiring, and for the next few minutes, I cut the dominatrix clothing off of Heather, until she was lying naked, her outfit in shreds. She struggled, screaming against her gag. I laughed at her helplessness.

"I think we're almost ready to have a long needed talk, slut," I told her, once I had her fully naked.

I reached around and pulled the gag from her mouth. She immediately started cursing me. "You bastard! That was a custom made outfit! It cost me over six hundred dollars."

"Consider it the price of adultery, lying, cheating, and forcing your way on another." I hefted the whip she'd used on my wife. "What was the number? Twenty?" I whipped her across her back, very hard.

Her scream was delicious. "I thought you'd be tougher than that, Heather." Another stroke of the whip had her gasping. I liked the feel of the leather in my hand, the weight of the strands, the bright red welts that raised almost immediately. 

"Too hard," she whined.

"Too hard, Master," I reminded her, with another hard blow. "I don't recall you asking my wife if you were hitting her too hard," I said, then whipped the back of her thighs with nearly my full strength. She shrieked, and I laughed.

"Let's see. You gave Nicole, a complete novice, twenty with the whip and twenty more with the paddle. I figure you should be able to take at least twice that."

The whip came down across her back, as hard as I could swing it, diagonally from her shoulder to her lower back. "RED," she screamed.

"Yes, you conniving bitch. You're turning quite red," I said, hitting her again.

"Her . . . safe . . . word," I heard from behind me. 

Mark was hanging from the rope, watching us, his face in anguish. "Did you say something to me, asswipe?" I swung the whip across his chest, enjoying the swish as it cut through the air.

He groaned. "Red. It's her safe word. She can't take anymore."

I laughed. "Safe word? [CRACK] What was my safe word, [CRACK] when I was gagged and handcuffed in the corner, [CRACK] against my wishes? [CRACK] What was Nicole's safeword? [CRACK]" I accentuated each statement with a stroke of the whip.

I'll give him this much. He was tough. He squirmed and twisted, grunting a few times, but he didn't scream. I was determined to change that.

"We were careful," Heather said. "We took it easy on her. No more than she could handle."

I whipped her husband across the crotch, using my full strength. He didn't like that one, crying out, lifting his knees in an attempt to cover himself.

I returned to Heather, and started beating her methodically, back, ass, legs. I'd given her at least a dozen lashes, listening to her cries and moans.

"Stop it!" Mark cried out. "You're going to hurt her!"

I turned and whipped Mark across the face. He screamed. 

"First, you will speak only when spoken to, you filthy cheating rapist. Second, you will call me Master. Third, I fully intend to hurt her. You two conspired against me and my marriage, and you'll pay for that. Trust me, you asshole, you will pay dearly. Far more than she will."

My backhand whipped across his face, leaving delightful red welts on his cheeks and nose.

"P . . . Please, Master. Not the face. You will injure him," Heather begged. "You could blind him."

I walked around him, beating him continuously, chest, back, legs, ass, crotch, arms, anywhere I wanted to. I was sweating and my arm was aching. I switched hands, and kept going. "How many?" Heather whined.

I laughed. "How would I know? You haven't even started counting yet. You made Nicole count, right?" I was standing behind her husband, and whipped him on the hip, the strands of the whip wrapping around him, the tips snapping down across his manhood, making him scream.

"One," he whimpered, hanging loosely from his arms.

"Perfect. Only ninety-nine to go. Then we'll start with the paddle, and anything else I can find."

I returned to Heather, examining the red marks all over her body. I liked the whip I was using but it was heavy, and tiring me. I returned to the cabinet finding something else I could use. I had the option of trying the single strand whip I'd used to subdue Heather. Truth is, I had a lot of options. 

I pulled out a few different choices, a large leather paddle, another whip with what appeared to be dozens of strands, instead of only 10 to 12. There was a thin wooden cane, that looked like something an old time school teacher would use; it wasn't sturdy enough to be a real cane.

Heather was breathing hard, watching me. "What do you call this?" I asked, holding up the first whip I'd used. If this kind of stuff is what my wife needed, I was going to need some education.

"L-Leather Cat. Cat o' nine tails. Bullhide tresses, Master," she said.

I walked past her naked body, and rubbed my hand down between her legs. Damn, the girl was soaking wet. She couldn't possible enjoy what I was doing to her, could she? She trembled, when I forced a couple of fingers up inside her. I wiped my hand on her reddened ass.

"See?" I commented. "It's just like you told my wife. I must not be treating you too roughly. You're soaking wet and enjoying it, right?"

I waved the one with lots of strands in front of her face, when she didn't reply. "What's this thing?"

"Flogger. Deerhide, Master. Not as severe."

It was heavy, harder to wield. I brought it down on her back, and she jerked a little, but didn't squeal or squirm. I swung it harder, and other than a brief pinking, you could hardly tell where I'd hit her. She grunted when it hit.

"It's m-m-more sensual, Master. Not for punishing."

I walked over to her husband, where I could get a nice windup. I beat him with it a few times, and he took it easily. I tossed it to the side. "Alright, I get it."

I hefted the whip I'd first captured her with. I saw her shudder. "That's a whip. A six foot bullwhip, Master. It's more for show." I turned toward her husband and she cried out. "No, please!"

That thing was a beauty. Everywhere it landed, large red welts appeared. He screamed on the second one. That was a keeper. Heather was shouting at me to stop, as I experimented, learning how to make it work best.

When I finished, I saw he was bleeding from a couple of places. It was mostly just seeping out, not pouring. I walked over and used it on Heather a couple of times. Even swinging easily she shrieked and cried. "That's for talking out of turn, you stupid slut. You plead for him, and it's only going to get worse. You need to learn that."

She was crying pretty hard. "Yes, Master."

I walked over and rubbed my hands over her body. She was a sexy thing. Not as hot as my wife, but not bad, not bad at all. I stood in front of her face, and held my dick out to her. "Suck, you slut."

Her answer was to open her mouth. I stuck my cock in it, pushing forward until her nose was pressed against my belly. She sucked my soft cock, and I rocked my hips, while she kept it in her mouth. "That's right, you conniving slut bitch. Suck me in front of your asshole husband."

She whimpered, sucking me hard. As I stiffened, I got more out of it. I figured tit for tat, so I held her hair, and fucked her face hard, thrusting into her throat, holding her head with both hands, keeping her there. I held her while she struggled, gagging, unable to breath.

"How's it feel, you fucking whore?" I growled. 

I refused to let up. She was shaking, and when she finally stopped struggling, I pulled out. She lay their limply. That was fine by me. I was hard enough for what I wanted.

I moved behind her limp body, and slammed my cock into her wet pussy. I got no response on the first several strokes. I moved up to her puckered asshole, gripping my cock tightly, and forced my cock inside her. On the third stroke I hammered it home, and she gasped, sobbing.

"Pretty tight back here, slut? You don't let your husband use it much do you?"

"He's too big," she moaned.

"Really? Too big for you, but you'll let my wife lose her anal virginity that way?"

"S-s-sorry, Master. I was angry," she whimpered.

"Bullshit. You weren't angry. You had all this planned, you sneaky whore!" I hammered her ass, watching her body shake. 

"She didn't know," Mark said.

I pulled out of her ass, took three steps and backhanded his face with all my might, making his head fly backward. "Master!" I snapped. "She didn't know, MASTER!"

"She didn't know, Master," he repeated, blood dripping from his split lip.

"You're a goddamn liar, on top of being a lousy friend, and a cheating asshole." I released a little of my anger by punching him in the stomach as hard as I could.

"You asked us to Dom her, Master," he groaned, once he'd caught his breath.

"Dom, not torture and anally rape. And only after you'd used her twice, behind my back, you fucking traitor." I picked up the bullwhip and gave him a half dozen to the back of his legs. I could tell from his reaction he really didn't like those. When I finished, he was bleeding from several new places. 

It wasn't like he didn't deserve it. Chasing after my wife. He was supposed to be a friend. Trustworthy. Fucking scumbag.

I was still hard, and stroked my cock before shoving it back up Heather's ass. "You knew, you bitch," I said, digging my hands into her ass cheeks. "Admit it, you knew."

She moaned, shaking her head. "No John, I swear. I had no idea he was trying to seduce her."

I pulled out of her ass, and grabbed the nearest instrument. That stupid little cane. I smacked her ass hard with it. Hard enough for it to crack on the third blow. She screamed, louder than anything I'd heard so far. I guess that one hurt.

"Lie to me again, and I'll break a 2x4 over your slut ass, bitch!" My cock felt at home back inside her quivering ass. I saw the damage the cane had caused. It left a distinct white line, with parallel red lines, about 6 inches long on each cheek.

"Didn't . . . know, M-m-master," she whimpered.

"You're telling me it was a coincidence, you walking up on me, watching your fucking husband mouth rape my wife?"

"I called her, Master," Mark said loudly, before I could retaliate against his wife.

I slammed my cock home, forcing it deep in her ass, and holding it there. "You fucking called her?"

"When Nicole showed up, and I knew I had her, I called Heather. Told her to hurry home. I had a surprise for her. She didn't know until then."

I grabbed the flogger that was lying on the table next to us. The braided leather handle looked perfect. I pushed it into Heather's ass, making her cry out. "Place holder, Slut," I told her, laughing, forcing it deeper.

I returned to the cabinet. I liked the way that cane worked, but I'd ruined the first one. I found something similar, no curve on the end. I lifted Heather's head by her hair, holding the stick in front of her. "What is this?"

She blinked the tears away. "Rattan cane, Master. Very painful."

I liked the swish of the cane, and Mark gasped as it left its welt across his belly. "Lie to me again, you fuckwad." Another 'swish', and the line showed up on his lower belly, half of it hidden in his pubic hairs. "I watched you, in the hall, and in your bedroom. You never called. Lie to me again. You know where I'm hitting you next."

He was sweating heavily. He stunk. "I swear. I texted her on the way to the bedroom. You can check my phone, or her phone. I swear it's true."

Mark screamed like a little girl, when the cane struck his crotch. I believed him. It all seemed to fit. Didn't mean I didn't want to make him pay.





I Had the Best Intentions Ch. 02



"He did!" Heather exclaimed.

Her husband groaned, glaring at me. "You're in control now. It won't always be like this."

It took about a dozen hard whacks of the cane across his back to break my second cane. I walked around him, and whipped the broken cane across his face, leaving a nice little bleeding scrape. "If I blind you, you motherfucker, what kind of control will you ever have?" I stroked the shredded end across his cheek.

He turned his face away. "She wanted it. You know she did."

I pressed the broken end of the cane into his stomach, pushing hard. "You play with pain. For me, it's not a game. When I'm done with you, you'll understand that. If you survive this, and ever touch my wife again, ever speak to her, even look at her, I will kill you. I mean that literally. I will walk up to you, put a gun to your head, and blow your brains out. You'll never see it coming. You betrayed my trust, abused my wife, and you will pay."

I returned to Heather, standing with my wilted dick in front of her face. She opened her mouth, and I pushed it home. "You knew. You acted like you were so surprised, so angry, and you knew all along, bitch."

She whimpered as I used her mouth, keeping going long after I was hard, abusing her throat. I had no doubt she could handle it, this was a game for her. Not for me.

She cried out again, when I pulled the whip handle out of her ass. It only took me a couple of seconds to replace it with my own hard cock. I wasn't as big as her asshole husband, but I'd wear that ass out. She'd remember this one for a while.

"I didn't know. I was angry Master. He cheated on me too."

"So you took it out on my wife. Locked me up so I couldn't interfere, couldn't even speak." I was stroking her steadily, getting some pleasure out of her.

"Thought . . . it . . . best," she moaned, taking my deep plunges without complaint.

"Lying cunt. You wanted me out of the way. You abused my trust. We were supposed to be in this together, revenge on our spouses, but you betrayed me." I grabbed her hair and pulled back harshly, her head pulled back as far as it would go, restrained as she was.

"S-s-sorry, Master. My husband. He's my husband."

"He's a dead man," I grunted.

"No!" she whined. "Punish him, don't kill him."

I spread her ass cheeks, watching my cock pierce her repeatedly. Pounding her ass had been difficult to start, but now she seemed to take me easily, my entire length swallowed up on each stroke. I wanted to keep up the abuse, fuck her for a while, and then punish her asshole husband, but this time I had waited too long. It felt too damn good.

"Fucking sweet ass," I grunted.

"Yours, Master. Whatever you want. Don't hurt my husband, and I'll be whatever you want. I'll give you everything."

"You betrayed me, slut," I gasped, fucking her harder.

"I'll make it up to you. Let me. Please, Master. Let me make it up to you."

"Bitch!"

"Fuck my ass, Master. Take me. Own me."

I was close. So damn close. "Own this ass."

"All of me, Master. I'll be yours. Just don't hurt my husband."

"Fuck . . . fuck . . . FUUUCK!" I screamed, as I flooded her ass.

I leaned over, catching my breath, feeling her tight ass squeezing my cock, milking me. 

"Damn, woman," I gasped. It was incredible. Everything I hoped it would be with my wife.

"Let me clean you, Master. Bring me your cock."

I slipped out of her, giving her ass cheek a loud slap. Man, I had enjoyed that. All of it. I wouldn't mind doing it again. Hell, I would do it again. I was in control.

I stood in front of her, and let her suck my cock clean, while deciding what to do next. I had so many delicious options. She had me half hard and was sucking noisily when I decided.

I grabbed the bullwhip. It was almost time for a break, and I wanted to give the bastard something to remind me of. His back was a criss-cross of bleeding welts, before I was finished. He was hanging limply during the last dozen or so, not even responding. 

Taking my time, I picked up the tools I'd used, and put them carefully away. I had nearly finished, when the slut spoke.

"Master? Are we done now? Can you release me, please?"

"No, I don't think so, not yet. I'm still not sure if I'm ever going to release the bastard you married." I stopped in front of her, and wiggled my cock under her chin. She understood, and started sucking.

Once I was standing tall again, I rubbed her head. "You're a pretty damn good cocksucker, Heather. You get bonus points for that."

"Please, Master, may I speak freely?"

"Sure, why not?" I reached into the cabinet and pulled out the bullwhip. "This is just in case I don't like what you say."

She looked scared, but continued. "He did a terrible thing. He betrayed your trust, and he cheated on both of us. I don't know why he thought I would accept it readily, calling me home like that. I punished him last night, but obviously nothing like you have."

"You both betrayed me, slut. You led me to believe you knew nothing was going on. At the very least you knew the bastard hanging over there had a surprise for you."

She nodded weakly. "I did. I was still stunned to see what it was. I hope you'll believe me."

"You cuffed me and gagged me, against my wishes, surprising me."

"I was afraid, Master. Afraid you'd speak out and ruin everything. It's so easy to do. I did it for your protection."

"Bullshit. You wanted to keep me out of the way. You knew I wouldn't go along with everything you two did!"

"It was a mistake, I should have told you first. I knew you might get upset, and didn't want you interfering. You told us we could dominate her. You wanted her to experience the pleasure. We had to test how much of a pain slut she was, and how much she wanted it."

"You're right you should have told me first. You didn't. So I don't believe you. Your only desire was to keep me out of the way, while you let your husband rape her ass viciously. At your demand. I will never accept that."

"I'm sorry. I apologized afterward, and tried to make it up to you. You said you liked it."

"I'm torn. I needed to find out what she got out of it. The first time he was with her, he was a little rough, and she seemed to love that. You took it way too far. She understood that and left."

"We had to know--"

"He seduced her, behind my back. Fucked her. Friends don't do that. Not under any circumstances."

"You did it to me," she said softly.

"That's because we're no longer friends, and I did NOT do it behind his back. I did it right here in front of him."

"You've hurt him badly. He's paid his price. Please, John, let's end it. He won't try to get any revenge, I'll make sure of that."

I swatted her ass hard. "You will call me Master, slut."

She nodded. "Yes, Master."

"Good. Now I need to check on my slut wife. I'm not very happy with her at the moment. When I've dealt with her, then we'll see about ending this."

"H-h-how long?" 

"I don't know. I'll probably be back my morning. It's Friday, no place special you have to be tomorrow, I imagine."

"We had plans, Master," she said.

"They've been changed. Your plans mean nothing to me, just like my marriage apparently meant nothing to that scumbag you called a husband. No more talking. I don't want to hear it."

She remained quiet as I dressed.

". . . sorry . . ." I heard, and looked back to see Mark was back with us.

I walked over to him, ready to start the beating again if necessary.

"Sorry," he said louder. "You're right. I saw it in her, and took advantage of it. It was a terrible thing to do to a friend."

"You SAW something?"

He nodded. "Her submissiveness. Her desire to be dominated. It's obvious to anyone who knows to look for it. It's irresistible. Heather's not a true submissive. To find one, right across the street . . ." he looked up. "It's no excuse. I'm sorry."

"And I suppose that's supposed to make everything better?"

He shook his head. "No. I don't imagine it does. I just needed to say it."

I stared at him, still unsure of my future plans. "That's a start. You're chances of surviving this just went up. No more talk."

I checked Heather's shackles, and content that she wouldn't be going anywhere, went up the stairs and headed home.

~ * ~ * ~

I didn't know what to expect, and I braced myself for anything. It still didn't prepare me.

Opening the door, I saw her jump to her feet. She'd been waiting, seated just inside. She was dressed in a robe, and her hair hung as it did when she washed it and didn't do anything with it. She had a look of fear and determination on her face.

"John, I did a horrible thing," she said.

I closed the door, and stood waiting.

She watched me looking for a response. When she got none, she continued. "I let myself get involved with Mark. Twice. Well, almost three times, but the first was only teasing, but it was more than I should have. I didn't mean to." She was obviously nervous, and any speech she'd prepared was failing her.

I waited her out.

She was crying when she started again. "I had sex with him yesterday. Oral sex. I . . . I don't know why, it was like I couldn't stop myself. I felt so terrible, so guilty, I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. I went back today, to tell him it could never happen again. I swear that's what I intended, but again, once he started on me, I couldn't help myself. I'm a horrible wife, and I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did it."

"Did you enjoy it?"

She looked up at me, frightened. "Please don't ask me that."

I laughed. "Don't ask you that? Are you kidding me? I guess I got my answer."

"I . . . I responded. I hated every moment of it, but my body betrayed me. I couldn't help it."

"What did you do, Nicole?"

"I didn't do anything. They did. The tied me up and abused me horribly. I begged them to stop. I begged them over and over again. I pleaded with them, but they kept using me. They beat me, and hurt me, and used me sexually. I didn't want that. I didn't. I couldn't stop them."

"I don't believe you. I think you enjoyed it. I think it was the greatest sex of your life," I told her, moving closer, staring at her angrily. "You were a slut for them, and you loved it."

She started shaking. "No, John. They forced me. I responded, my body did, in ways that I never thought it would. But I hated it, and they hurt me. Hurt me badly."

"You came for them. You screamed out your pleasure. You squirted, while he plowed your ass with his big cock. Don't lie to me."

She stumbled backward, sitting on the chair, and grimacing as she did. "You know?"

"I saw you yesterday, you slut. I saw you come harder with him than you ever have with me. I saw you do things you won't do for me. I saw him do things to you, things you won't allow me to do."

"Yesterday? You saw me yesterday?"

"I did. I wanted to see if you would go back to him. I wasn't surprised once you did. Obviously you enjoy sex with him more than me. How could you cheat on me, Nicole? How?"

She brought her feet up onto the edge of the chair, curling up. "I don't know. He was so demanding, and he wouldn't accept no. I couldn't stop him. I tried at first, but I couldn't."

"You went back. You lied to me about what you did yesterday, and you went back for more."

"I swear I wanted to end it. I swear John. Once I was there, I couldn't. I don't now why. God, I wish I did."

"You went to him willingly. You weren't in that house five minutes before you were naked on his lap, asking him to spank you."

She looked up at me, shocked. "How do you know that?"

"I was there."

"You were there! You let them do that to me!" she shrieked.

"I was handcuffed to the radiator, and gagged. I saw everything."

She stared at me, stunned. "Then you know they forced me! I didn't want that. You know! I begged them not to do it."

"I know I heard you beg him to fuck you," I snapped.

"That vibrator, the teasing. They got me so worked up, I gave in. You know I tried to stop them."

"Nicole, you cheated on me. You did things for him you've denied me for many years. You begged him to fuck you. You had the biggest orgasm of your life when he fucked your virgin ass."

She clutched her legs tightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't want it. I didn't. They hurt me."

I started pacing in front of her. "Do you want to remain married? Because that's not the behavior of a loving wife."

"Of course I do!" she whimpered. "I love you. I made a horrible mistake."

"The way I see it, one of two things is going to happen. You can go upstairs and pack your stuff, or we can try to work things out."

"Please don't say that. I'm sorry. I'll do anything to make it up to you."

"I guess we'll see about that, slut. Because if you do stay, things are going to change around here."

"Change how?" she asked nervously.

I opened my pants, letting them fall to my ankles. I was rock hard. "On your knees, slut. Get on your knees, and suck your Master's cock."

Her face went under a series of transformation from shock to fear, and then sadness. "Please, John. Don't-"

"Shut up, slut!" I yelled. "You will refer to me as Master, and you will start your penance, or you will leave!"

She slowly crawled off the chair, and got on her knees. "Remove the robe, slut!"

She took off the robe, and knelt naked before me. I grabbed her head, and thrust my cock down her throat. I knew she could take it. 

She sucked me. For the first time in our marriage, she sucked my cock. Not half as well as Nicole did, but she sucked me willingly, and before long, it seemed eagerly.

After all the day's activities, I was unlikely to come anytime soon. I enjoyed it, until I was ready to move things along. I reached down and pulled her to her feet by her hair.

She gasped. "I'm sorry, Master! What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing, slut. Come with me." I pulled her along to the bedroom, then sat on the bed. "Over my knees, you cheating slut. I'm going to blister your slutty ass."

She whimpered as she obeyed. Her ass was still red from her earlier treatment, and the lines on her back showed where she'd been flogged. She cried out from the first firm slap. The second one had her squirming.

"If you don't count them off, it'll go on all night."

"One, Master," she gasped, as my hand came down on her trembling ass.

"Is that all you say, slut?"

"Thank you, sir. Please can I have another?"

I only gave her a dozen to prove my point. I reached between her legs, and found the ample evidence I expected. She was dripping.

"This excites you?"

"Sorry, sir," she wept.

"I'm going to fuck your ass now, slut."

"Oh God, no! Please! It hurts so badly," she pleaded.

"You'll let your neighbor fuck your ass, but not your husband?"

"I didn't want to. They forced me. It was terrible."

"I saw how you came for him, slut!" She was still on my lap, and I walloped her butt hard enough for my hand to hurt, sending ripples down her legs. It made her scream. I was a little concerned that our neighbors would hear her, and considered gagging her.

Instead I threw her off of me, onto the bed. "On your hands and knees, slut."

"Yes, Master," she whimpered, getting in place.

I had no desire to injure her, and thought it was possible he had hurt her. I got the lube from the bedside table, and applied it to my cock. It was more than they had given her.

"Please, Master," she said softly. "Not my bottom."

I pressed the head against her, and it slid in. I guess she was still somewhat loose, even hours later. She moaned, while I started pumping into her ass. She had done it with him, she was damn sure going to do it with me. I was reclaiming her.

"This is my ass, slut! Only mine. Nobody touches it without my permission. Do you understand!" I slapped her bright red ass cheek.

"Yes, Master. My ass is yours."

I fucked her steadily, pushing deeper until she was taking all of it. "Your mouth. Who does it belong to?"

"You Master. Only you."

"And if anybody tries to take you from me again?"

"I won't let them Master. Never again. I swear!" she gasped at the end, as I slammed my cock into her.

"If you do, that is it for us. Do you understand?"

"Yes...Master," she groaned. She pushed back against my strokes. I stopped moving and watched her rock back and forth, fucking herself on my cock.

"You're a slut, aren't you?"

"Your...slut...Master."

I pushed her forward, onto her belly, and continued to fuck her ass. I reached underneath her, and started rubbing her clit. Moments after I started, I heard what I'd wanted. What I needed.

She screamed for me. For the first time ever. Her body stiffened, legs kicking out. Her hands grasped the sheets, clutching them tightly and she screamed. I kept rubbing her, pounding into her ass, and she went mute, shaking, before gasping deeply, and groaning.

"Did I say you could come, slut?" I growled, pounding into her ass as hard as I could.

"N-n-no...M-m-master."

"Fucking dirty slut. Coming from getting your ass fucked. I should throw you away and find me a decent woman."

Her ass was thrusting back against me. "No, Master," she moaned.

"NO?" I growled, squeezing her clit.

"AAAH!" she shrieked. I stopped, my cock buried inside of her, my weight holding her down. I squeezed harder, hearing the sharp intake of breath, then rubbed her.

She started pushing against me, her ass rising, but I forced her back down. She was sobbing, squirming, and I laid there.

"Fuck me," she finally begged. Like she had for him.

"No."

"Fuck me!" she cried, pushing back against me. "Please, Master. Fuck your slut. Make me yours."

I grabbed her hair, pulling it back, and pounded my cock into her ass, once. "Make you mine? You ARE mine."

"Yours," she gasped, neck pulled taut. "Only yours, Master."

"That's right. You would do well not to forget it."

"Sorry Master."

I pulled out of her. I wanted to finish inside of her, but there were things I had to do. I knew now. I knew.

"Get up, slut. Get up and put on your robe."

She gingerly climbed off the bed, and I saw the wet spot where we'd lain. It made me feel good. I stopped in the bathroom, and washed down my rampant hard-on. I wasn't done with my traitorous neighbors. Not yet. I pulled on shorts and a t-shirt, and took my wife by the hand. She gripped it firmly.

"I'm sorry, Master," she whispered.

I pulled her into my arms. "I know, baby. I love you."

She melted into my arms, clinging to me. "Love you so much," she mumbled.

I freed myself from her embrace and took her hand. I walked her to the front door. 

"I'm not dressed," she whispered nervously, clutching her robe tightly closed.

"It's a short trip, right across the street."

"No! Please, John, not now, not like this. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't."

"I'm tired of hearing what you couldn't do. You will do what I tell you, and for now, that is follow me."

She clutched my hand tightly in hers, and followed along, a half-step behind. I opened the door, and her hand squeezed mine tightly. "Do not speak unless I tell you to. Do you understand, slut!"

"Yes Master."

She was reluctant, I could feel it, but she followed me down the stairs. She gasped when she saw her two rapists bound as they were. She stopped and I had to pull her to keep her moving. I didn't stop until we were standing in front of Mark, who was glaring at me.

"Eyes down, or I will beat you until you're unconscious."

He lowered his eyes.

"Who is your Master, slut? Me or that."

"You Master. Only you."

I let go of her hand, and retrieved the wooden paddle from the cabinet. I was tempted to use the bullwhip, but I didn't want to scare her too badly. "How many times did he beat you with this?"

"Twenty, Master."

"You will return that beating now. Nobody but me is allowed to beat that sweet ass of yours, understood?"




I Had the Best Intentions Ch. 02



"Yes, Master." She turned to me and smiled for the first time. "You think I have a sweet ass?"

"I always have, slut. And I'll be proving that much more often."

"Yes, Master," she said almost eagerly. She moved behind him, while I positioned myself in front of Nicole. I lowered my shorts and waved my cock in front of her mouth. She accepted me, and started sucking.

I heard the first impact and was disappointed. "Harder, slut. He hit you harder than that."

She hit him again, and I could hear the difference. "Better. You will continue until the rapist has counted off twenty." I stroked Nicole's hair, pulling it back so I could see what she was doing. She really was quite amazing.

"One," Mark said.

"Two."

He took it stoically. I considered making him call her Mistress, but I didn't want that. She was nobody's mistress, only my slut.

I was hard, and fucking Nicole's mouth firmly at the count of 20. "Very good, come here slut."

Coming around the table she stumbled, for the first time seeing what was happening. "John?"

"Master. Watch and learn, slut. You will have to do much better in the future if you expect to be the one to deliver my blowjobs."

She was quiet for a few seconds, and I saw her eyes glittering with unshed tears. "Yes, Master," she finally whispered.

I only let it go on for another minute or so, my point proven. "Very good, slut Heather. I may have you work with slut Nicole on that."

"Yes, Master," she said.

I retrieved the Cat from the cabinet, and handed it to my wife. "How many?"

"Twenty, Master," she answered quickly. She looked angry, and I think she was going to enjoy a little bit of retribution.

I moved behind Heather, and spread her ass cheeks. It took a little effort, and my wife watched silently, while I forced my way into our evil neighbor. Heather cried out when I pushed deeply as soon as I'd breached her opening.

"You may begin now, slut wife."

The blow was harder than I expected, making Heather's body jerk. I plunged my cock into her ass, making her squirm. She hadn't cried out.

The second one brought a hiss to her lips. "You're not counting, slut Heather."

"One, Master," she said only moments before the next blow landed. "TWO," she cried out.

"Much better. Continue."

By the time she hit 20, Heather was sobbing. I was feeling good, real good. Her ass was delightful.

I was surprised when Nicole bent over the table next to the slut I was fucking. She had dropped her robe, and was hip-to-hip with her ex-friend. "Please, Master. Fuck your slut, not that whore. Fuck me, Master."

It was hard to say no. Too hard. I pulled out and moved sideways. "Who owns you, slut?" I asked, rubbing my cock against her rosebud.

"You Master. Only you."

I pushed past the resistance, and entered her, hearing her sob. "Thank you, Master."

As worked up as I was, I didn't last another minute. I didn't make her come for me, and didn't care to. I grabbed her hips, forcing myself deep, and erupted inside her.

I pulled out, wiping my cock on her ass, and walked around the table. She stayed as I'd left her. I faced Heather once more, holding my semi-hard cock in front of her. "Suck, slut."

She sucked. There wasn't much chance of it doing anything for me, but again, I was out to prove a point to my cheating slut wife. After a few moments, she responded.

"Allow me, Master?" she pleaded. "Let me suck your cock."

That's what I'd been hoping to hear. I moved over and she took me in her mouth. I brushed her hair back, caressing her. "Who's my number one slut?" I teased.

She pulled off for only a moment. "Me, Master?"

"Of course, sweet slut. And don't you forget it." I offered up my cock again and she sucked.

"Slut Heather," I said, while my wife sucked me.

"Yes Master?"

"I'm going to offer you a choice."

"Yes Master."

"We can end the punishment now. You'll come by tonight, and bring the flogger, some handcuffs, and that Magic Wand of yours. Some other, gentler toys you might think appropriate for a novice. You will come alone. If I see the bastard I will end him."

"Yes Master. And the other choice?"

"We don't end the punishment until I'm satisfied that he will never touch another man's wife again. I suspect it will be very difficult for me to be satisfied, but I think he may survive it."

"I choose the first, Master," she said quickly.

I started to unbuckle her wrists, surprised that my wife had made as much progress as she had on my cock. It wasn't hard, but it wasn't limp either. By the time I had Heather's second hand free, she was rubbing her ass.

"You were very harsh, Master. Overly so."

"I don't think so. I think I was extremely lenient. You have no idea how badly I wanted to flay the skin from his body. Cut off his cock, so he could never rape another woman. No, I was quite gentle."

I pulled out of my wife's mouth, stepping backward. "Release her ankles, slut wife."

Nicole did as I requested, while I pulled my shorts back on. "Seven p.m. sharp. Don't be late, bring what I told you, and come alone. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Master," Heather said, stretching. She looked over at her husband.

"You may release him after we've left. It's very important that you make sure he understands. I'm extremely unhappy with his behavior. Any idea for revenge will end very badly for him. For both of you."

"I understand, Master. It ends now?" she asked.

"The punishment does. Yes." I turned to my wife who was standing still awaiting further directions. "Put on your robe."

"Yes, Master." She picked it up and put it on. "May I speak to him?"

I was tempted to say no, with no idea what she intended. "Go ahead."

She walked over, and I was once more surprised when she spit in his face. "You betrayed me, you bastard. You seduced me, used me, lied to me, and hurt me. Yes, you got me off, but I hated every moment of it. If you ever touch me again, I'll tell my Master, and I hope to God next time he lets me watch as he peels the skin from your body."

Damn, I was proud of her. "Come Nicole. Let's go home."

She kicked him. A stupid little weak kick to the shins, but I loved her for that. She skipped over to me, and took my hand in hers. "Take me home, Master."

~ * ~ * ~

At 6:50, I was watching from the window, my wife dutifully sitting at my feet. The bedside clock read 6:54 when Heather stepped out the door, wearing a trench coat, with a suitcase in her hands. She and Mark were arguing in the doorway.

She turned to walk toward our house, and Mark followed on her heels, still talking. I grinned as I turned on the laser pointer, and directed it at my bastard neighbor's chest. Mark grabbed his wife by the arm, and she spun around to talk to him. I laughed out loud as she looked down at the red dot on her husband's chest and leaped out of the way. Moments later Mark looked down as well, then looked up fearfully at our house, turned around and ran back into his own home.

"What's so funny, Master?"

"Nothing, dear. I was just making sure that Mark didn't come over. Heather will be here any moment. You better run down and greet her."

Nicole stood fluidly, running her hand down my bare chest for a moment, before turning and jogging out of the room. She squealed sweetly when I slapped her ass, sending her on her way.

"OFFER HER A DRINK AND WAIT IN THE LIVING ROOM!" I shouted after her.

I continued watching for a little longer, making sure John didn't change his mind and make an appearance. I was also interested to see what the women would get up to left on their own.

Once I was convinced we were going to be alone for a while, I took a quick shower, dressed in a robe and nothing else, and headed down the stairs.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Nicole and I received a three hour education from Heather. There was little sex or pain involved, it was more in line with an open discussion about dominant and submissive roles in a relationship. There was a lot more to it than I would have expected. She kept insisting that we'd both be better off learning with more experienced practitioners even if it wasn't her and her husband.

I on the other hand made it quite clear that her husband was absolutely persona-non-grata, and we would have nothing to do with him in the future. His betrayal and abuse of my wife had ensured that. I reminded her that I had guns and wasn't afraid to use them. I also explained that nobody but I would ever dominate my wife again. She was mine, and I was going to make sure she stayed that way.

"Then why am I here?" Heather asked, sounding irritated.

"Because I told you to be. That was the final cost of your betrayal. When you leave, it's over. Nicole will never step foot in your home again, and your asshole husband will never cross our threshold."

My wife remained kneeling at my feet, wisely staying out of the discussion.

"What about me?" Heather asked.

"I hope that you and Nicole can stay in contact. She may need someone she can talk to. You, however will never take a dominant role with her, unless I am present. Is that understood?"

She agreed.

When she left that night, I had a shopping list and a better understanding of what my wife needed, and how I could provide that for her.

I was slow and patient, working with Nicole, establishing our roles in the bedroom. She was a natural submissive, but not a pain slut. She liked it a little rough, and understood the need for punishment when it was warranted. Ritual beatings and floggings were not part of it, thankfully. 

Life is not simple. We have children. Three year old twins. That's limits what we can do openly. Fortunately, we both have parents nearby who are more than happy to take the little monsters off of our hands for 'date' nights. They think it's adorable that my wife and I need a lot of private time. I imagine they would feel a little different, if they knew she spent much of that time bound and used.

Honestly, I believe it was harder on me, becoming what she needed for her satisfaction. It hurt me to give her pain. For the sake of her happiness and sexual satisfaction, I was willing to make the effort.

Ours was not a full-time master/slave relationship or anything like that. Most of the time, she let me know when she was feeling the need for mastery, and I stepped up, usually after the kids were put down for the night. On occasion, I'd take the lead. I was surprised at how willing and eager she was when I did. A few times we made it longer, extending over an entire weekend, and even maintaining our roles out in public. Subtly, but still there. It was not easy for either of us, and we agreed that would be a very rare thing. Neither of us had an interest in advertising our activities to the outside world.

The best news was that our sex was everything I'd ever hoped for her. Even a 'loving' interlude could get her off. And that made almost all of it worthwhile. We weren't your everyday master/slave, dom/sub, or whatever you wanted to call it. We didn't take it out of the house, and we did it for each other. Still, we had signal we could use, even in the presence of our children, parents and friends. She knew when I was displeased with her, and it was clear when she needed to be taken in hand. We had our own rules and ideas, and it seemed to be working for us.

It was almost two months later, when I came home to my wife and our neighbor Heather sharing a bottle of wine in my living room. Nicole was wearing her collar and cuffs, so I knew what she was looking for. Otherwise, she was dressed normally as was Heather. We didn't have a date night planned, but seeing her in her collar, I knew the kids were away. 

I knew they spoke frequently, but Heather had never been over since that fateful night. They had ceased talking, and I could feel the nervous tension in the room.

Nicole was wearing my collar.

I walked over in front of her and unzipped. My wife dropped to her knees, reached into my pants, and started sucking. She had gotten much better at that.

I turned and addressed our guest. "How are you doing, Heather?"

"Better. Things were . . . difficult at home for a while. My husband's been having a rough time. You hurt him pretty badly. Broke his spirit. He's been rougher than I prefer. I finally found him a plaything that helped."

I stopped Nicole. "I'd like a beer," I told her.

"Yes, Sir," she replied quickly. 

While she was gone, I got naked from the waist down, and sat beside Heather. I was soon enjoying a cold beer in a frosty mug, as well as my wife's loving oral attention.

"Your presence?" I asked Heather.

She blushed, which was surprising. She took another sip of her wine, then turned toward me. "Mark is out of town for three days. I was wondering if you needed any more . . . help with your pet." She glanced at where my wife was servicing me, then dropped her eyes and lowered her voice. "Master," she said softly.

Her response was a surprise to me. Honestly, I still had a lot of questions. Reading only went so far. For a moment I hesitated about involving anyone else, but came to the conclusion that this was not accidental, finding my wife ready for me, collared, tipsy, with Heather present. She wanted this, and as always, I was willing to do what I could to help her, as long as it stayed within my limits. Heather was a known entity, who I had been severely pissed at, and used roughly, but she had stayed in contact with Nicole, and helped her. Or at least that's what I understood.

I looked Heather up and down. Yeah, I could do this. "Undress."

Heather didn't hesitate, and was soon standing nearby, completely naked. "Put your heels back on," I said.

She was quick to comply. 

"Slut Nicole's gotten better at this," I said, nodding toward where her mouth was enveloping my cock. "But I'd like her to be better. Teach her."

Heather was an excellent teacher, and between the two of them I was filling my wife's eager mouth before long.

When she sat back in her position, I tugged Heather over by the hair, and had her continue servicing me. "Slut Nicole, for the duration of Heather's visit, you will address her as Mistress, Mistress Heather, or ma'am. You will follow her instruction and be obedient, so long as her orders do not conflict with mine. You will wear my collar until she leaves. You understand?"

She nodded. "Yes, Master."

I could swear I heard he pussy dripping in excitement.

I pulled Heather off my cock, and my slut took her place.

"Heather, you will be available to me so long as you are here. You will deny me nothing. You will answer any questions I have quickly and honestly. You will assist me in training slut Nicole. You will not injure her, or abuse her severely, nor will you share her with anyone else. If I am not present, you will do nothing that we haven't done before. Is that acceptable?"

"I thought--" she started.

"It's a yes or no question. Are my terms acceptable?" I insisted.

She looked down at Nicole. I could see her desire. "Yes, Sir."

It was another learning experience, a good one. I learned that on occasion, my wife needed me to still be a little more . . . enthusiastic in her punishment. Not often, but frequent enough to serve as a reminder. She also needed me to take on a more proactive role in dominating her. Why she could confess these needs with Heather there, and not with me alone, I didn't understand. But I could adapt. 

I was not happy that she had kept this from me. I punished her as thoroughly as I ever had, and spent an entire day using Heather, and having my slut wife serve and service us. As a reward, she received her first DP, with Heather wearing a strap-on and providing the anal service. Squirting was still an infrequent event with my wife, but not that night. 

Heather left before her husband came home, and assured me that if I was willing, that would not be her last overnight visit. True to her word, whenever her husband went out of town, she would show up on her doorstep.

I had no complaints. She had a way of drawing out my wife's needs and desires, and helping me fulfill them. My own needs were never left wanting. 

Do I feel guilty for encouraging adultery with another man's wife?

Hardly. If it was anyone else but that asshole, maybe. But he started it. 

Am I happy? Ecstatic, for the most part. It's not what I'd have expected my life to be like, but I had a loving, attentive, and happy wife. My love life was more than I had ever hoped for. I had every fantasy fulfilled, with the assistance of my nasty neighbor, who was obviously infatuated with my submissive wife. I even had an ongoing payback against the bastard who'd betrayed me, and assaulted my wife.

Is everything peaches and cream? No, and I'm not sure it will ever be, unless some things change. Heather has warned me on more than one occasion, that her husband has phases where he's convinced he needs revenge against me. I stay prepared and observant. There are times when I want my wife to be more of a partner than a plaything, and miss that part of our relationship. Fortunately when it comes to the boys, she's assertive, and when I need her to step up, all I have to do is talk about them.

What will tomorrow bring? I have no idea. I'm taking it one day at a time, and enjoying the side effects of having a happy, loving and content wife, a willing sex partner, and two handsome, smart boys. 

It had started with the best of intentions, and had gone sideways, but I think we're back on track now, and I'm not going to rock the boat. Not unless I have to. And I believe I've made it clear that I'm not afraid to do that.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~



I Had the Best Intentions



A plan started to percolate in my mind. "Would you be willing to dominate my wife with Mark? That way you could both be in control?"

Heather seemed intrigued by the offer. "She is beautiful. It had popped into my mind before, but we have never invited others into our marriage." She looked back into the bedroom, then corrected herself. "At least I haven't invited anyone. Besides, what if she doesn't go for it?"

"I say we don't give her the option," I said. "After they are done in there, I will go home to Nicole as if I know nothing. You tell Mark that you and I both witnessed it, but we are OK with it."

The look on her face implied that she was considering it. 

"Tomorrow, I will make like I am going to work, but will drive around the block and wait for her to come back here. When she does, Mark will take her to the dungeon, at your encouragement, and somehow bind her down there. Blindfold her and allow me in. I will watch quietly as you and Mark dominate her together."

"Why are you so on board with this?" she asked.

"Because obviously Mark is doing something that I cannot to make her happy. Perhaps it is just the excitement. But if it gets her off, than I want it for her, and I want to witness her elation."

We watched as Mark pulled out of my wife's mouth and shot his load on her face, Nicole flinching as lace after lace decorated her visage. It was all Heather needed to see.

"OK," she said. "I'm in." We worked out the rest of our plan.

.....

The following day worked just as I had hoped. At the same time of day, Nicole pranced across the street and knocked on Mark' door. Five minutes after she went inside, I strode to the door and gently tapped three times.

Heather answered, and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. She was wearing a tight leather outfit, clearly establishing herself as a dominatrix. She pulled me inside, making sure not to be seen in the afternoon light. 

"Your wife is downstairs, and has no idea that we are here. Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked.

"I am," I said, referencing my raging hard-on. She chuckled.

"OK, you sick Fuck. Let's do this."

We tiptoed down stairs, and as we approached the bottom, an audible slap echoed through the stone room. My heart started racing. I was excited, but nervous that I may have put Nicole in a horrible situation. But as I made my way to the door, I recalled her cumming as Mark ate her out, and it steeled my nerves. She deserved this.

I turned inside the room to see Mark, sitting on a chair, with Nicole lying over his lap. She was blindfolded, and her hands were cuffed together above her head. Mark was pulling her hair with his left hand as he smacked her firm ass with his right.

"What do you say, slut?" he commanded.

"Thank you, sir. Please, can I have another?"

SMACK. His hand collided with her pink bottom again, sending a rippling through her thighs and down to her calves. 

"AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" she screamed, his spanking clearly causing an ample amount of pain.

As Nicole thanked him again, Heather quietly led me to one corner by the hand. As we approached the radiator, a pair of cuffs emerged from her hands and clasped around my right wrist. Before I could figure out what was going on, she had locked the other end to the radiator, holding me in place. She whispered to me:

"You will not interfere with our fun. You let Nicole know you are here, she will experience intense pain." She stuffed a ball gag in my mouth and secured it around the back of my head, muting me.

I was immensely uncomfortable with this, but I could do nothing about it now. Heather left me in the corner to join the party. Nicole correctly sensed her presence.

"Mark, is there someone else here?" her voice quivered. 

"As a matter of fact, there is," he said calmly.

With that, he pulled her to her feet by her hair and pushed her against the wall furthest from me. 

"Mark, stop! Who else is here?" she commanded, with little authority.

Mark forced her hands above her head and attached the chain between her cuffs to a sinister looking hook. It was at such a height that my wife needed to stand on her toes to maintain contact with the ground. 

Heather approached her and placed a dog collar around her neck. It was attached to a chain leash, which she let fall to the floor. 

"When Mark told me what was going on between you and him," Heather began, startling Nicole, "I was only upset that I hadn't been included. Apparently, we have some catching up to do."

"Heather!" Nicole startled. "Mark! This is not what I want. I'm not a lesbian!"

"Ha! I'm not a lesbian either. You understand that, you worthless cunt?" Heather squeezed Nicole's right nipple as she demeaned her. "I am just here to punish you for trying to work your tight little ass between me and my man!"

"Aaaaiiiieeeeee, Heather....please!" Nicole screeched. "I'm sorry, Heather. The whole thing was a big mistake!" 

"You're damn right it was," said Heather. "And now it is time to pay." With that, she hefted up Nicole's right breast in her left hand and began wrapping the metal leash around the base of it. Nicole's breath quickened and she started to whimper, identifying a ferocity in Heather that she had never known. Her feet and knees squirmed with every tug on the leash.

Heather wound the leash tightly, propping up the massive tit so that it returned to height of her college years, and then some. She wrapped the leash around her breast twice, and then raised the handle to the hook holding her arms to the wall, lifting Nicole's right boob to just below her chin. Nicole hissed through her teeth as she struggled to accommodate the pain.

"Please, Heather! I'm sorry about what happened with Mark. It was a mistake," my wife pleaded. I could hear genuine remorse in her voice, and her use of the singular forms, "it was a mistake," confirmed what Heather had predicted yesterday: that this affair was a recent development.

Heather drifted to a cabinet full of equipment and returned with a mouth spreader. She moved in close to Nicole, her leather outfit brushing against Nicole's bare, hypersensitive skin. She grabbed Nicole's cheeks and pinched her mouth open, and started jamming the spreader into her mouth as she whispered into her ear.

"Listen to me, home wrecker. You think I give a shit if you are sorry? Do you know what is like get out of work early, think you are going to have a nice, relaxing afternoon with your husband, and then find him with his dick in your neighbor's mouth?"

"Uuuughh," my wife moaned as the spreader lodged behind her teeth. 

"I picked the spreader instead of the gag because I want to hear you scream, bitch. Pleading will get you nowhere, but scream all you want." She locked the spreader in place once Nicole's mouth was gaped as much as it would go. 

"Trust me," Heather continued, "Mark has put me through the ringer down here, and we have never had one complaint from any of our neighbors."

She grabbed the nipple on Nicole's engorged right tit and twisted it hard. Nicole let out a piercing scream that vibrated in my ears, and I could see the tears slowly streak down her reddening cheeks. When she ran out of breath, her scream ended, and she took in a big gasp of air. Heather let her nipple go.

"Music to my ears," she said. She returned to the cabinet for more toys, leaving Nicole a whimpering, blubbering mess pinned to the wall. As Heather shuffled through the drawers, Mark moved in on Nicole. His hand dipped between her legs and started stroking her pussy.

"Why are you wet, you little slut?" Nicole's whimpering was on the verge of hysteria. If what Mark had said was true, then even through the pain and submission, Nicole was becoming aroused.

"Let me make something clear, honey. I served my time last night. My debt has been paid. Today, you serve both of us." He slowly penetrated her with two fingers, allowing his other fingers and palm to slide up and down the folds of her pussy. To my great surprise, I saw Nicole's hips buck sensuously towards his fingers, as if even through the uncertainty of her immediate future, she could still derive pleasure from our male neighbor. 

For the first time, my cock tinged in excitement. The rocking of her hips reminded me of how she would thrust up towards me during our sexual heyday. My concerns for her safety assuaged, I allowed myself to start to get into it.

Having found what she was looking for, Heather strutted back to her prone slave. She draped what seemed to be a string or fishing wire over her left shoulder. It crossed over her left breast and continued to her mid-thigh. Nicole was experiencing a steady swarm of conflicting emotions: fear and trepidation, for sure, but also shame and apparently arousal. Her hips rocked off the wall towards Mark' probing fingers as Heather brought the first of eight metal clips to her left tit.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh," she shrieked as Heather clamped the clip onto the top of her left breast. From my vantage point, I could see that the string was trapped between my wife's pure flesh and the vicious metal pincers. Vicious as they might be, though, it did appear that they were padded with rubber on the tips. Otherwise these clips might have drawn blood. 

Nicole's breaths came in short, labored gasps as Heather pinched more flesh together just beneath the previous clip. She could sense the ensuing pain before it happened, but it did not help her cope any better. Heather again locked the one of the clips along the top of her breast, securing the string within it.

My wife pleaded for mercy, though it was indecipherable with her spreader in place. It just came out as a series of long vowels sounds. Heather and Mark shared a chuckle, mocking her pain. 

"Don't worry, love," Mark said to his wife. "She is still wet. She must be enjoying it."

Though I could not specifically feel her wetness, the room was beginning to fill with that specific smell of sex, belying the fact that, even if she was not enjoying it, she was aroused. In shame at his comment, Nicole rocked her hips back against the wall and froze, refusing to thrust towards his fingers, as though her refusal demonstrated a lack of consent. Unfortunately for her, Heather did not care if she consented. 

Her punishment would continue.

Nicole's whimpering continued as Heather applied five more clips in a vertical line down her left breast. Bringing forth the final clip, she flicked Nicole's throbbing nipple, and ensnared with the clip. Each of her breasts was now cruelly manipulated in different manners. Her right, ringed tightly at the base, bright red and bulbous, looked like it might rupture. The left, vertically bifurcated by the row of metal clips, still had the wire draped over it.

Heather now grabbed both ends of the wire and pulled them together in front of Nicole. I could see now the maniacal purpose of this wire. With every tiny tug, each of the clips pulled gently on Nicole's already straining breast flesh. After she tested the string for durability, Heather asked Mark to remove the spreader in Nicole's mouth. 

"So, whore," Heather said. "Tell me how many times you have been with my husband." She held the wire taut in her hands, warning her that a sharp yank might follow a wrong answer.

"Just the once, Heather," Nicole said. Her answer was quickly followed by a sharp scream as Heather pulled on the wire.

"First of all, slut, don't you dare call me Heather today. Today, you call me 'mistress,' and nothing else. Second of all, that is your one and only chance to lie to me. Understand?"

"But Hea-...mistress. I'm not lying," my wife cried. 

"Slut, you were with him yesterday, I witnessed that. And you were with him today when I walked in. That is twice right there. How many more times?"

"Please, be gentle, mistress!" Nicole whined as Heather tugged on the wire again. "I thought you meant before today. I swear yesterday was the first time."

I knew this was a lie, as I saw her yesterday, but caught her running out of his house the day before that. Unless that was just a manner of arranging what happened yesterday, though that was doubtful.

"OK, so just one time before today. What prompted it? Did you come on to him, or did he come on to you?"

"Mistress, it all began three nights ago, after dinner. John explained that he was trying to cheer me up by having you and Mark compliment me, but I wasn't buying it. We had a big fight; he slept on the couch, and was gone by the time I got downstairs." 

Another light tug on the wire. "Get to the point, whore."

"Aiiieeee, fuck! OK!" Nicole screamed as her breast throbbed. "I called his office the morning after to apologize to him. I knew that he was trying to make me feel better about my looks, but I always let my poor self-image get in the way. But when I called, they said he had called out sick, and I began to get suspicious."

Heather turned her head towards me and raised an eyebrow. Was all of this a sick, Shakespearean plot that I set in motion by stalking my wife?

"So let me guess," Heather went on. "So you came over here, looking for me, and you found Mark, who gave you a shoulder to cry on. "

A tear streaked down Nicole's face. "Pretty much."

"And, was John having an affair?"

"I don't know, I never confronted him. But it does not seem like he was."

"So you are going to endure this punishment today because you did not trust your husband?"

"It was an honest mistake, Heather," Nicole tried to rationalize. Heather yanked the string harder. "God damn it! Mistress! I swear I never intended for this to happen. Please just let me go."

Heather balled all the slack in the wire up in her fist, leaned forward, and then pulled as hard as she could. The clips snapped off of my wife's left breast and flew all over the room.

"Aaaaahhhhhh!!!!!" Nicole screamed as her tit experienced first the pain of metal and rubber dragging against flesh, then the sting of their release. Now, as her scream diminished to short, quick gasps, the slow burn of blood rushing back to her pinched flesh drove her wild.

Heather unwrapped the chain around her right breast, and then Mark lifted her hands off the hook in the wall. Nicole collapsed to the ground, her back still pressed against the wall, and she cupped both of her breasts in her hand. I could see the searing pink flesh protrude from between her spread fingers as she massaged them gently.

The sound of her sobbing, full of fear, caused me to lose my erection. I had Heather's assurance that she or Mark would make my wife cum today, but I did not know if I could bear to watch the torture that would preclude it. 

Heather quietly gestured towards Mark that she wanted Nicole in the middle of the floor, so he grabbed her left ankle and slid her along her back into the center of the room. Heather brought an ankle spreader out of the closet and handed one end to Mark. 

"Please, Mark!" my wife cried. "Let me go. I won't say anything to John or anyone-". A sharp slap from Heather across her face shut her up.

"First of all, slave, I warned you not to use our names down here. In this room, we are master and mistress. Secondly, we are not worried about you telling anyone about this. What could you possibly say that wouldn't give your affair away?"

Nicole huffed, resigning herself to the situation as Heather and Mark pulled her legs apart and attached them to the spreader. She sat on the floor spread eagle, her hands flat on the floor behind her back, her heaving, glowing orbs hanging from her chest.

"Can I at least take off my blindfold, please?" she asked.

My heart started racing at the question, and for the first time my true vulnerability became clear. What would happen if Nicole took off her blindfold and found me, cuffed to the radiator, my erection trying to fight through my shorts?

"Sweetheart, I promise if you take that blindfold off your day will get exponentially worse." Heather eased my fears with this stern warning, at least for now.

Mark stepped out of his jeans and boxers, taking his raging erection in his fist and approaching my wife. He placed a foot on either side of her thighs, so his legs were flush against her still-stinging breasts. Only as the hair on his legs brushed against her nipples did she recognize his proximity.

"Open your mouth, slave," he commanded. Nicole obeyed. "Good, now stick that tongue out."

Again, my wife obliged his request, extending her tongue out of her mouth and down towards her chin. Mark pulled her head so that her back was perpendicular to the ground, and her hands came up to his thighs, grappling for stability.

Mark towered over her, and further imposed his reign over her by standing on his toes, so that his dick was more facing down at her mouth then approaching it from in front of her face. He pulled her hair down so that her face turned up to him, her mouth and tongue still in their commanded positions. With a sneer, Mark pushed his cock into her mouth and straight into her throat.

"Mmmmppphhhhh....cack, cack, cack," my wife gagged on his member. But Mark pushed forward, lodging himself inside her and sinking back down onto the heels of his feet. He grabbed the back of her head with both hands, holding her between his legs as her hands frantically grabbed at his thighs and ass, trying to move him back. But he was a tree trunk, immovable and stoic, owning her face. 
I could see that her neck was turning red as it strained around his cock. It appeared that the outline of his enormous cock head could actually be seen at the top of her throat.

Heather rejoined the action by plugging something into a nearby outlet and turning it on. I recognized it from some porn I had seen online, but was unsure if Nicole knew what it was.

"Are you familiar with the Hitachi Magic Wand, slave?"

Nicole could only grunt an indiscernible response. 

"Well, just in case, this is the best vibrator I own. I promised Mark that I would make you cum at least once today, so that you get to enjoy this at least a little bit. But if you are going to cum, it is going to be on my terms, with your legs forced apart and my husband's dick stuck in your throat."

Heather, of course, had made that promise to me, not Mark. I was grateful that, at the minimum, I would be able to witness my wife orgasm.

She touched the vibrator to Nicole's spread and easily accessible pussy, sliding up and down between her clit and her gushing hole.

"MMMMMMMMM," Nicole groaned, half in pleasure and half in clear pain. She let go of Mark' legs and set her hands behind her back again. This enabled her to gently rock her hips off the ground and towards the invading vibrator.

"John must love having a whore like you in his bed every night," Heather mocked. "Look at how you lust for this plastic toy despite getting your throat reamed out by a superior man. What filthy things do you do for him?"

She teased Nicole by pulling the Magic Wand slightly out of range of her throbbing clit, and watched as Nicole attempted to nudge her hips forward in search of it. Mark pulled out of her throat with a pop. 

"Answer her," he said.

Nicole's swollen red orbs heaved up and down as she tried to catch her breath. "What was the question?" she managed, already not remembering the seemingly rhetorical question Heather had posed.

Mark grabbed her right nipple and twisted it. "My wife would like to know what fucked up sexual acts you commit with your husband."

Nicole screamed and brought her right hand from behind her back to try to wrest her tit free. Her efforts were in vain. "Please!" she begged, "We do not do anything crazy. Just plain, vanilla, missionary."

"How often, slave?" Heather asked. I was embarrassed at the answer, even before Nicole offered it. The truth was, despite how cruel and debasing this sexual deviancy appeared to be, I was at least somewhat envious that they were trying new things, experimenting...trusting each other. For them to know that we only had boring missionary....




I Had the Best Intentions



"Once a month," Nicole cried. Even that was an exaggeration. 

Heather and Mark stifled laughter at her response. "Once a month. Huh. Its no wonder you are so hot and horny for my husband's cock and this vibrating plastic orb."

"Please, this isn't who I am...my affair with Mark was an aberration." Nicole whimpered between short breaths. I could hear the tears forming in her eyes again.

"Slut, the next time you ask for sympathy, I will strap on my biggest dildo and fuck your ass raw," Heather grabbed her hair and yanked it, craning her neck to emphasize the point. "From now, do not speak unless we command it."

She let go of her hair and returned the Hitachi to her pussy. Mark resumed his position in the back of her throat and the entire charade recommenced. Nicole seemed to quickly get over the demeaning tone they took with her, and once again was rocking her hips in a circular motion against the vibrator. 

In just a few minutes, she let out a muted, gargling groan as she came, her legs stiffening and her hips lofted a good six inches off the ground. Mark' pole was still enrobed by the walls of her throat and mouth, but this, somehow, did not deter her. 

He pulled out of her mouth again, knelt behind her, and hoisted her up, bringing her spread legs into a standing position. He held her arms behind her back as Heather approached her from the front.

"Did you enjoy that, slut?"

Having learned her lessons about dishonesty and quick responses, Nicole responded immediately. "Yes, mistress."

"Do you want us to make you cum again?"

Nicole seemed uncertain how to answer. She feared the truth was not what they wanted to hear. But again, she did not delay so long as to warrant punishment. "No, mistress. I just want to go home."

"Oh, that is not an option, whore. I already told you that you would be here awhile. But that is fine, if you just want us to subject you to abuse without cumming, we can arrange for that."

"No! Please, mistress. I was mistaken. I do want to cum again."

"Very good, slave. Mark, bend this whore over the table."

In the middle of the room there was a padded table with cuffs and chains hanging all around it. Mark carried her there, pushed her over at the waist and laid her chest across it. I could hear my wife hiss through her teeth as her raw nipples ground against the leather cushioning, but she dared not complain anymore.

Heather grabbed her wrists and ensnared them in leather cuffs at the opposite corners of the table. From my angle, I could see Nicole's ass and part of her spread pussy, as well as the entire left side of her body. Her tit was smashed down and spilling out from the weight of her ribcage and the pressure that Mark was applying to her back. 

Heather then replaced the leg spreader with cuffs that were on the legs of the table, keeping her in the same spread eagle position but with different bindings. Both master and mistress stepped back to admire their prize, helplessly bound and nervously anticipating what might be next for her. They moved to the closet to pick out some new gear. 

Mark returned with a leather paddle and sat in a chair next to my wife's prone ass. Heather optioned for a whip, comprised of a leather handle from which many long, thick strands of leather extended. At the same time, I experienced anxiety and a quick swelling of my cock.

Heather climbed up on the table and straddled the back of Nicole's head, pinning her to the table with her ass.

"OK, slave," she started. "We are going to give you twenty lashes with the whip, and twenty spanks on the ass. As we do this, I want you to count them out, as loudly and clearly as possible. Is that understood?"

"Yes, mistress," my wife replied from beneath Heather's ass.

"Good," Heather said. She nodded to Mark, who slipped two fingers into my wife's pussy. 

Nicole gasped in surprise, expecting pain before pleasure. It was clear that they were going to keep her on this line between pleasure and pain all day.

As Mark slowly moved in and out of her soaking wet pussy, Heather raised her whip above her head, and then, as a conductor leading an orchestra, gave the down beat. She brought the whip onto Nicole's bare back as Mark smacked her left cheek.

"AAAAAhhhhhh!" Nicole startled. Her flesh rippled all over her body at the impact of the harsh leather. "ONE!!!" she screamed.

Master and mistress repeated this gesture, with Mark targeting her right cheek this time. "FUUUCCCCKKK! TWO!!!!" Nicole shouted loudly and clearly. 

I could already see her back and ass turning a darker shade of red. No streaks or blood, to my relief, but a clear, exaggerated hue all over.

Mark went back and forth between pounding her like a jackhammer and resting his fingers in her idly. He repeatedly brought her to the verge of orgasm, only to spank her and halt his movement, stifling her acceleration. When he would rest his fingers inside her, Nicole would hump up and down against him, trying to get herself off despite his lack of cooperation. 

Another crack of the whip and paddle. By now, Nicole was accustomed to the pain, and did not yelp. "FIFTEEN!" she yelled, diligently obeying her mistress's orders. I had lost myself in watching Mark tease her pussy, and now all of a sudden she was at fifteen.

Mark again started finger fucking her furiously. A longer tacit between spanks this time, as Heather seemed to want Mark to take her as close to orgasm as possible.

"Mmmmm," she moaned from beneath Heather's ass. Mark had brought her closer than any of the previous times, and she was now bucking her hips up and against his digits as best she could. 

Then, without any warning whatsoever to my wife, Heather and Mark unleashed five successive whips and smacks upon her back and ass. 

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Mark removed his fingers and alternated back and forth with each blow: right, left, right, left, right. 

"Noooo!!!!!" Nicole wailed as yet another orgasm was denied. Then, through tears and sobs, she remembered her instruction. "SIXTEEN, SEVENTEEN, EIGHTEEN, NINETEEN, TWENTY!!!!"

Heather dismounted her and applauded. "Well done, slave. Very obedient! You are a quick learner." She stroked Nicole's hair as she congratulated her. 

"I bet your quivering pussy is just dying to climax again. Am I right, slut?"

"Yes, mistress," Nicole cried. I was convinced this was the truth. He hips were slowly rocking in a circular motion, hoping to make contact with anything that might get her off.

"Very well, slut, you shall cum." 

They unshackled her wrists and ankles, and Mark pulled her, briefly, into a standing position. He then pushed her back onto the table, this time on her back. He lifted her legs up and spread them apart, staring lasciviously down at her pussy, oozing fluid from his nimble fingering.

"Grab your legs behind the knees and keep yourself spread for your master, slave," Heather instructed. My wife did as she was told. 

Nicole held her legs behind the knees, willingly spreading her legs for Mark. Mark put his right palm on her left buttock, his thumb pulling slightly on her pussy, spreading her from blatant to obscene. 

He gripped his cock with his left hand, holding it firmly at the base as if he needed all his strength to hoist is up towards my wife's sopping, anxious hole. Another fistful protruded, unsheathed, beyond his fingers. It looked....angry. Red and purple, veiny and dripping with a pungent mixture of precum and Nicole's saliva. It looked like it was about to burst at the seems, prepared to douse it's victim with its hot, sticky ammunition. I surmised that his firm grasp acted has a cock ring, engaging the safety on the trigger.

Nicole, still blindfolded, lay in wait, nervously flinching every other second in anticipation of his touch. Mark obliged. His mushroom tip dipped gently into her. 

"Aahhhhhh," Nicole moaned with a wanton whorishness. 

Mark let the tip of his cock revel in her warm juices, smearing them around her inner labia, teasing her. 

"Please, fuck me," I heard my wife whine.

Instead, Mark slid his cock upwards to her clit, her hood unzipping for him as he worked his way north. A blossoming orchid prodded by a malicious python. He tickled her clit nimbly, an impressive achievement given his girth, and Nicole responded as I'm sure he wanted.

"Oooohhhhhh, fuuuuuuuuuuck," she exhaled. She was loving it.

I could see the top half of Mark' member now dripping with her juices, which must have been his goal, because at this point he lowered his aim towards her tight, virginal sphincter. Nicole felt his throbbing flesh press against the entrance to her forbidden passage and her entire demeanor changed. 

"Mark, stop!" she screamed as her hands released her legs and attempted to back away from him. Heather was quick to pounce, grabbing both of her hands and pinning them above her head.

"I refuse to let my husband fuck you in your womanhood, slut. You are going to get it in the ass, which is where all whores take it."

Mark pulled one of her legs aside, clearing a path for his dick. Nicole sobbed as he pressed forward.

"Please, no! Uuggggghhhh," she grunted. I saw every muscle in her legs tighten as Mark impossibly pushed the enormity of his cock head against her. From my angle, I could see him push his broad tip towards its target, Nicole's free right leg still flailing in resistance. 

It was almost fascinating watching her circular muscle slowly stretch, expand and contract as he pushed back and forth against it, demanding entry. The wider he made it, the louder my wife screamed. Finally, Mark grabbed each of her thighs with his hands and pulled her towards him as he thrust hard, and her sphincter gave way. After trying to wedge just the tip in for what had seemed like minutes, Mark's dick sunk several inches up her ass, almost as if it were a vacuum. 

"Ahhhhhh! Fuck, it hurts!" Nicole screamed. But her audible proof of pain only spurred him on. 

"You are so fucking tight, slut. This is going to be sweet!" he said as he continued to trudge onward. 

Now that she was impaled on his dick, Mark returned his hands to the pit of her knees, pushing her legs back towards her chest and then as wide apart as they would go. He looked down at her gaping pussy and the tight asshole gripping his cock beneath it. The expression on his face revealed the fact that this was the first time he had fucked a woman in the ass, and he was going to relish it.

He pulled slowly back, leaving just the tip in, before plunging deeper into her. In and out, slow but steady, with each inward buck advancing just a tad further than the previous. 

Nicole wailed. "Please, stooopppppp! Its tearing me apart!"

"Keep going!" Heather teased. "Its tearing her apart!"

Mark, not surprisingly, obeyed his wife. I marveled at how his cock seemed to swell with every withdrawal, as though my wife were so tight his dick had to squish into her, and only at the back stroke could it return to normal size. This, I now understood, is why Mark was going so slowly with her. I was stunned he had not ruptured anything yet, in my wife or himself. 

After minutes of the same repeated actions, Mark too a brief moment to settle himself, and then slid all the way into my wife's ass. 

"Nnnnnggggghhhhhh," Nicole lamented, exploding out of her mouth alongside a dousing of spittle. 

Mark let it nestle, getting used to the compression and giving my wife a brief respite. Heather refused to let the action slow for too long, though.

"Wow, slut. If you didn't have an affair with my husband, I might feel a little bad for you right now. How can you take that humungous cock it your tiny little asshole?" Sensing no resistance from Nicole, she let go of her hands and retrieved the Magic Wand. She turned it on, allowing the low hum to enter Nicole's ears. "Do you want this?" she asked.

Nicole nodded quickly and silently, "Yes, please, mistress." 

"Put your hands above your head and grip the table," Heather commanded. Nicole did as she was told, though even the movement of her arms was jerky with the fullness of her ass.

As Mark continued to hold her legs open at the knees, Heather gently touched the vibrator to my wife's yawning pussy. 

"Ahhhh!" Nicole chimed, shocked anew but in a more pleasant timbre. 

"Keep going, babe," Heather encouraged her husband. 

Mark, for the first time since fully engorging himself in my wife, slowly pulled out of her. Then, as if prompted by some subconscious command, he began a quick, rhythmic pounding. I noticed that after nesting inside Nicole for a few minutes, his cock no longer swelled and contracted with each movement. My wife was expanding to accommodate his fuck tool.

"Ohhhhhh.....myyyyyyy....Goooooodddddd," my wife hummed, clearly dancing on the threshold of pain and pleasure. Her boobs were swaying in a circular motion as Mark rocked her up and down. The tension in her legs was subsiding. Her jaw hung open as if she wanted to scream, but could not decide whether to moan in ecstasy or cry in pain. 

"Oh, yeah!" Mark roared as leaned forward, pushing Nicole's knees further towards the table, which in turn arched her hips up towards him even more. This improved angle allowed him to glide in and out of her even quicker, and he was soon rocketing against her thighs with aplomb.

"Yes! Yes!" My wife wailed. And then, as if embarrassed that she done so, answered herself with "No! No!" The wand was encouraging her, and providing enough distraction that she was less concerned with the trembling cock in her ass.

Mark craned his neck towards the ceiling, an obvious attempt to hold out as long as possible. His thrusting became quicker and shorter, building towards a long-delayed climax.

I heard Nicole mounting towards something of her own, although I could not guarantee that it was a climax. A low mumbling escaped her lips, unlike anything I had ever heard her emit before. Her mouth hung open as her body slowly started to sway upwards towards her assailants. 

Then something happened that I never could have anticipated. Nicole lurched forward, her mouth still agape an a silent scream, and she started to spray. At first, naively, I though she had let her bladder go, but quickly realized she was squirting. Her stream arched upwards and landed on Mark' chest, which clearly was enough to push him over the edge. 

He bottomed out in my wife and roared like a monster as he emptied his seed in her, my wife still splattering her juices all over him. Half way through their mutual orgasms, she started to scream, too. Their outcries created a cacophonous, bracing harmony that stung my ears like a hornet, but through the shrieks I witnessed the most glorious expression of pleasure on my wife's face.

Her back arched her lungs emptied and her scream subsided. She remained like this, looking paralyzed, for what seemed like an eternity, before slowly sinking her back down on the leather table. Her hands came up to her face, trying to hide the shame. She was coming to terms with the fact that she anal had brought her such a monumental orgasm. 

Mark released her knees and slowly withdrew his cock, slick and funky with cum and the insides of my wife's ass. When he let go of her knees, her legs fell off the table and and hung there, lifeless and spread. Mark dried his dick off in her trimmed pubic hair.

"Hmmmph," Heather mocked. "I thought she didn't do anal."

Mark smirked a big, shit-eating grin as he admired his work. Nicole lay, lewdly spread eagle, too overwhelmed to move.

"Take the bitch upstairs, honey," Heather told Mark.

Mark picked up my wife and draped her over his right shoulder before turning and walking her out of the room.

Heather came over to me, eyeing my rock hard member.

"That must have been hard for you," she said as she sank to her knees in front of me. She pulled my pants down and withdrew my cock from my boxers. 

"This is both an apology and a thank you," she said.

She gripped my cock in her left hand and lowered her mouth to it. I was too stunned about what had just happened with Mark and Nicole to protest, not that I would have anyway. I needed very little to get me off after what I had witnessed.

Heather worked her tongue around my cock in a way that I had never known. She clearly had done this many times for Mark, and whatever he told her he liked in the past, I liked now. 

I groaned around the ball gag as Heather sucked the cum right out of me. Nicole had never once done this, even before marriage, and the feeling of my balls draining down Heather's throat trumped every single sexual experience I had with Nicole.

Wiping off what little cum had spilled onto her lips with her hand, Heather undid my gag and released the cuffs. 

I stretched my jaw enough to say "Wow!" shaking my head in disbelief.

"Did you like that? Not just the blow job, but what we did to Nicole?"

"Yeah," I said, still not convinced of it myself. "I wasn't sure at first, but I got what I wanted. Nicole seemed pretty satisfied at the end."

"Good, sweetie. I am glad I could deliver this for you." "Me too," I said. "So...what now?"

"That is up to Nicole," she answered.

At that, we heard Mark marching back down the stairs and awaited his presence. He came in, saw what had happened, and nodded in understanding. She obviously had let him know she would be doing this for me.

"Well," he said, "I left her upstairs and gave her two options. I told her she could either get dressed and go home, or she could go up to our bedroom and lie naked on the bed and wait for us."

"What did she do?" I asked. 

"We will find out. I gave her five minutes to make up her mind. Until then...we wait."

.....

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Thank you,

Abob1