5 comments/ 7880 views/ 7 favorites Letting Hyde Out By: Wifetheif It really is true that you can't be too careful. Everyone learns that lesson sooner or later but usually not before they have badly misplaced their trust, especially in me. Who I am doesn't matter, I have several aliases. I'm not a hood, I offer services. It was in that capacity that I first met Denise. It was on one of those websites and chat rooms for wayward wives. Denise (her real name by the way) and I started chatting. When ladies tell me their tales of woe I become the most sympathetic set of ears on the planet. Denise was twenty two and had one kid, a mortgage, a van, and a much older husband who could not always get it up and didn't believe in Viagra. Our chats soon moved off line to telephone texts and conversations when hubby was asleep or at a deacon's meeting. My phone was an untraceable disposable and my phony accent was straight out of the Virginia foothills. . Denise had married young to escape her religiously strict parents to a man selected by her church's pastor. He owned a fairly pedestrian personality, and was no great shakes in the looks department. Unfortunately, her marriage turned out to be nearly as confining as her childhood had been He selected her wardrobe, he controlled her socializing, she took the job he had selected for her. Denise loved her kid but was stifled on every other corner of her life. What she wanted more than anything was a good dicking by a man who wasn't her husband just to feel desired and alive again. Here's where it gets weird. Denise was paranoid that if she were to have an affair, it would be found out and would ruin her life. For Denise to get away with any extracurricular activity, it had to appear as though she was taken against her will by some anonymous bruiser who had overpowered her and threatened her life. Anything less than that and her asshole husband and like minded church would have accused her of being a "slut" and a "fallen woman." Even if she were taken anonymously, many of those same folks would accuse of somehow having "lead him on" and "enticed" him. We are not dealing with progressive people here. In all honesty and far more sensitivity than a man of my sort is apt to feel I suggested she get in order, an attorney, a retraining order, a divorce, and a bus ticket out of town. Denise cried. "My entire family is in that church. If I divorce Darnell, Mama and Daddy will never talk to me again. All of my friends are there and my church would use all of its money to hire lawyers and take Becky away from me." This was followed by a flow of tears and sobs. Ordinarily I would have ended things there, but Denise sent me her a head shot and eventually a description. Five foot three, stacked, alabaster skin, crimson hair, china doll face, way too pretty to have problems like this. I listened long enough for my sympathy to fade. None of her problems, even taken together, were insurmountable. Denise had allowed everyone around her to make decisions about her life to the point that now she was seeing boogie men that weren't there. A decent human being, a gentleman, would have told her to call a woman's shelter. A truly sensitive man would have encouraged her to begin by stepping out in small ways, building her courage and independence. A friend would have helped her re-ignite the inner fire she had so long suppressed. Those are things a decent person would have done. It was Denise's misfortune to find instead a cad. I t wasn't hard to imagine Denise naked, being compelled to do all manner of foul things. The kind of things a young Christian wife should never even know about, much less enjoy. Yes enjoy, I knew that, at heart, Denise was one twisted woman looking for an excuse to get her freak on, while still never having to remove the mask of concerned, loving, and oh so submissive, wife and mother. She DESERVED what I was going to do to her! Our conversations became much more interesting when I volunteered to help her out with her "problem". While Denise was filling her mind with me spiriting her off to some deserted cabin for the weekend where I "forced" her to undress and service me, a tall dark stranger, before she stumbled off to the nearby town in tattered clothes and a convincing story that would inspire sympathy and a touch of admiration from her husband, family, and church. I was planning on giving her exactly what she asked for! It helps, of course, that I am an excellent actor. In an earlier life I had even won some VERY minor parts in a handful of off-Broadway productions. I was convincing in thankless roles, somewhere in one of my scrapbooks is a one sentence mention of one of my appearances in a review by the "Post's" drama critic. I probably could have gone on to bigger and better things but I simply did not want to invest the amount of time it would have taken, nor did I like the prospect of the poverty I would have to endure before I made it to the top. I used my acting skills to play cons on the public. I earned far more money as a blind beggar, a deaf solicitor, and a shell shocked veteran than I ever did playing minor assassins on stage. It was easy money practically thrown at me. I moved from that to doing what I was born to do, sweet talking ladies into transferring their surplus wealth into my wallet. It helps that I'm handsome, but not in a distracting way, tall and well mannered. I became "projects" for grieving, yet quite wealthy young widows. Sometimes the women were older but just as trusting. I can dazzle when I want to. Not one of those ladies ever regretted the funds they entrusted to me. There was always some reason or another, all seemingly quite legitimate, that necessitated an end to our relationship. Oh, the tear-stained letters I have inspired! All of those women left a lasting impression on my soul (IF that is the word) and an even greater one on my bottom line. Stocks and bearer bonds make the ideal parting gift. So now, I freelance, moving from relationship to relationship whenever I find them interesting. The internet opened many, many doors for me. I am a careful cad however, juggling my aliases to obscure the real me. NOBODY meets him but me! The one thing I did lack in most of my relationships was the freedom to engage in my darker side. Oh, Upper West Side trust fund babes can get mighty kinky, but at the end of the day, they know it is me and I know it is me, I've always wanted to be, in reality, the fantasy role I slid on, to be a truly ruthless as I desired; to let Mr. Hyde gallivant around town at least once. Denise would allow me that privilege. . Denise saw me as a night on white horse. She was so sure I was a 'blessing" and a "kind and loving" man. I did nothing to dissuade her of those notions as I spun a tale of a simple country boy who had always been unlucky in love. Denise's tears when I stammered through an account of how my fiancee had been killed by a drunk driver in his semi while on the way to our engagement party, made me feel like I had won a Tony Award. Some men play the bass, others the harpsichord, I play heartstrings. In no time Denise had sent me every detail of her life from her work schedule to the route she took home. I sent her a picture and told her it was me. Because she was curious I also sent the photo of a fit torso with nice abs and mischievous little tattoo and some cock I found on the internet. It wasn't ALL lies. I'm in pretty good shape, not cut like my doppelganger but not bad. I'm also well hung but not quite like the dick I sent Denise. The face looks nothing like me aside from the fact we are about the same age and share the same eye color, but Denise had constructed such a fantasy about me and our "fated" encounter that she never asked any of the questions a normal person would. You know, if I had a conscience, I'd actually feel guilty about what I do, but guilt is for suckers! I do have a home base but, I can relocate as needed rather easily. Blending in wherever I am is no problem. I've always been outstanding at accents, Whether I enter a room full of Arkansas good ol' boys or Harvard aesthetes, I leave with all convinced that I'm one of them. I had a magician for a roommate once, I still remember his words "People WANT to be conned. They want to see only what you want them to to see. It doesn't matter if its three card Monte or their investments on Wall Street, a deluded person is a happy person." Vince doesn't know it but he gave me the guiding philosophy of my life. My legerdemain doesn't involve any mirrors or props aside from human nature, but over the years, I've made a lot more money and had more fun than he ever did, even with his Vegas shows. Denise was expecting me the second week of June. I planned to strike a week early. I had been in her town for a fortnight already. Everything was prepared.. I performed an unobtrusive trail run. With the same vigor I once put into memorizing dialog and blocking I replayed my angle of attack and, if necessary, escape routes over and over again. No bad guy should ever have to rely on a GPS. Like a private eye I shadowed Denise for a few days. In person she was every bit as pretty as her picture. I had to stifle a laugh at her wardrobe. Long dark skirts and high collared, voluminous blouses that did nothing to accentuate her figure. The one frustration in this venture so far had been Denise's reticence to send me any pictures of her that were in any way revealing. Despite my most sincere entreaties all Denise would say is, "I have a spectacular body, that is why Darnell makes me hide it all the time. To tell you anymore would spoil the surprise." On seeing her in person, I realized that her face was so cute that even if her clothing concealed a water buffalo, this venture would still be worth my time. However, I doubted that there was an ounce of fat under that attire. From what Denise had told me about her husband, he was the sort of man who feared his wife's beauty rather than, like a normal husband, reveled in it. I've met sad characters like Darnell before, so insecure that if a total stranger were to ogle his wife's ass as they strode by, Darnell would conclude that the stranger had a better cock and knew how to really use it. For the rest of the day, his mind would be assailed by images of the stranger doing all sorts of things with Denise right in front of him while they both laughed. Why is it that the limpest dicks always seem to end up with the hottest women?. For a lingering second, I envisioned fulfilling Denise's cabin escapade. That would, however, needlessly complicate things, I'd have to reveal too much about myself and when the guilt hit her she would confess all and throw herself on the mercy of her church and send the cops after me. No, my plan was simpler, and in the long run, better for all concerned. Tiny people should never drive big honking vans. I struck as she was leaving work. Because of the nature of the parking spaces in front of her office, Denise has to approach her vehicle from the passenger side and is for a few seconds completely out of view of anyone in her office building. Those few seconds would be all I would need. I was dressed as a security guard. That made me as invisible as the mailman, the cable guy, and the UPS man. Everybody saw me but nobody noticed me. As Denise rounded the front of her van she encountered me clutching a clipboard. I saw her eyes open wide and questioning, her key fob in her right hand. The needle concealed by the clipboard was in her neck before she even had a moment to react. As her legs collapsed under her I scooped her up, claimed her keys and opened the door to her van. In another few seconds, as she slumbered in the passenger seat I was directing the van on its normal route home. Who notices how many security guards there are at work? Who studies their faces? Who is aware when one disappears? Even if Denise saw more than my uniform, she would have little more than the vaguest impression of what I looked liked. Since no one had really seen me arrive, no one would see me leave. As far as anyone observing knew, Denise got in her van and headed home, which was true, in a way. Denise's town was one of those small southern places that had not quite entirely replaced the old textile mills and affiliated businesses. This left a few abandoned factories that had not been razed as yet. Behind one of them I parked Denise's van. I obeyed all speed and traffic laws as I drove to the edge of town. In this Andy Griffith of Mayberry world, no one invested in security cameras or did more than put up a fence to discourage trespassers. Completely unnoticed, I was through the gate and behind the factory where my own vehicle waited. It was from here that I had hiked to Denise's office. The five mile hike was not difficult. Of course I had not been wearing the security guard outfit while on that hike. Wearing overalls and a hat, the locals simply assumed I was one of them. I exchanged waves and nods with those who thought I was Jim-Bob, or Kenny, or whomever. Prestidigitation is not really all that difficult. Now, for the first time, I took a long, appreciative look at my prize. Women this beautiful are as rare as hen's teeth. Another guy would have felt sympathy for Denise and the bad hand life had dealt her. I don't let emotion get in the way. Besides, Denise was a big girl, if she hadn't learned not to talk to strangers at her age, that really wasn't my fault now was it? I cuffed her wrists and ankles together and slid a bondage hood over her head, I admired my touch of forming her gorgeous hair into a ponytail and having it spill out of a hole in the back of the mask. She looked vaguely like a superhero, especially Bat girl from the 60's TV show. I'd always had a thing for Yvonne Craig. I added a ball gag to complete her ensemble and then toted her very light form to my own car. A blanket in the back seat hid her from view. My next destination is where I would have all of my fun, a storage facility two towns over. My storage area was on the end. The unit next to mine was occupied by the furniture of a marine deployed overseas. No one would interrupt or overhear us. I drove right into my unit turned on the lights and dropped the door behind me. Everything was prepared for Denise's arrival. I turned on the cameras and made sure they were in the proper position..The first thing I did was remove her somewhat stylish shoes. The injection I had given her began to wear off just as I was finishing the task of restraining her on my human sized frame. True beauty is found in the details. I reveled in my master stroke, a full length mirror positioned so that the first thing Denise's eyes would take in was herself, hooded, strung up, and helpless. I donned a baklava with two small horns attached and waited for the fun to begin. Her luminous green eyes flew open in panic. For at least a half a minute her eyes stared at her reflection without comprehension. And then the inner lights went on. She emitted muffled screams through her gag and fruitlessly flailed in her bonds. It was then that I stepped into view wielding a pair of surgical cut down shears that paramedics use. The look of horror in her eyes was priceless. I began speaking with a thick northern New Jersey accent, "Ah, your awake bitch welcome to my world!" Gently, I pressed the cold metal of the shears against her cheek, a tremor coursed through her body from neck to toes. I laughed evilly.. "Exposure time, Red!" I exclaimed with gusto and gathered up the hem of her skirt. With a determined slowness, I began slicing the fabric concealing her right leg. Any lingering doubt that Denise concealed a troll beneath her dowdy clothes vanished as her fantastic lower limb cam into view. I've always been a huge leg man and Denise's were just the sort to get my inner fires blazing. I smiled contentedly as my hands progressed towards her hip. Every time the metal came in contact with Denise's alabaster skin she trembled. I could hear her muffled cries behind the ball gag and her eyes issued a veritable Niagara of tears. As I snipped through the broad belt at her narrow waist, I took delight in her predicament. Underneath the slate gray skirt some really sexy and lacy red panties. Her husband Darnell was, after all, not a complete fool. I paused from my labors and gathered up some tissues to take care of Denise's now running nose and to mop away her tears. "A woman with eyes as beautiful as yours should not mar them crying." I stated with a tenderness I did not feel. Before giving Mr. Hyde full range again. I leaned close to her ear, nibbled the lobe and then stated malevolently, "You can either leave here in one piece or I can mail the local cops your limbs and torso in separate boxes. The choice is yours, Red." At this point her eyes grew larger than saucers and I felt certain that she would piss herself. Her skin broke out in sweat that gave her skin a lovely sheen. I stared intently for a moment at her crotch. No puddle of urine appeared. I began slicing up the right side of her oversize ivory hued blouse. Denise owned a flat trim tummy, I had a hard time believing she had ever given birth. In one of our exchanges she confided that she had been working out with abandon since her daughter had been born. Her husband, Darnell's claimed he wanted to try for another child, but his impotence was becoming more and more pronounced. Rather than see a doctor, he believed he could pray himself hard all the while proclaiming that since he couldn't get it up, maybe they weren't meant to have more children. Trying to be an obedient Christian wife and sublimate her own desire she had turned to the gym. Needless to say, it was a woman only gym. I wondered how any man could fail to be aroused by the body being revealed before me. He was old enough to be Denise's father, maybe he was subconsciously viewing his marriage as quasi incestuous. What ever it was afflicting her husband, I sure as hell did not suffer from the same malady.. Inside my trousers, I was so hard I could have gone pole vaulting and set Olympic records.. Presently, I sliced up the right arm exposing her well constructed yet still lacy brassier. My first view of her tits was quite arousing., Large, yet firm looking mounds of femininity.. I could practically taste them with my eyes. Denise's tears continued in their intensity as I began slicing her left sleeve. The sight of Denise's tattered blouse fluttering to the floor was quite satisfying. As the cold air of the storage unit met her skin she broke out in goosebumps. I could tell there was more than simple fear in her reaction. I turned my attention to the right side of her tattered skirt. Practically all that was keeping it in place was my restraints. Still cutting the fabric rather than simply pulling it away had a more profound psychological impact. The slate gray remnants of the garment tumbled to the floor to join her blouse. She stood now in just her very sexy panties and matching bra. I drank in her slim form and flawless skin. Only an irregular birthmark to the left of her navel marred the perfection of her complexion. Her porcelain skin flushed red with embarrassment. I regretted that I could not see the colors dance across her cheeks and face but the hood allowed me, in case of emergency, the option of sealing off her vision and, even with the gag out, sipping closed her mouth. It also greatly increased her fear, a not insignificant factor.. Through the lace of her panties I could see the light crimson of her bush and the lacy bra revealed the shadow of her aerolas . Already I was imagining what her nipples and her secret place would taste like. I ran my hand along her rib cage. Denise reacted as though it was radioactive. I stifled a laugh. Denise was so sheltered and inexperienced , She had never been with a real man who knew how to properly please a woman. This petite little housewife had no idea what was about to hit her. Inwardly, I smiled. I felt positive that before I was finished with my little adventure, Denise would be purring like a kitten and begging for more. Letting Hyde Out I opened the shears and placed them at the bottom of her bra, between the breasts. Emitting a laugh I sliced through the fabric. Denise's tits were ever bit as fabulous as they had been in the pornographic dreams I had been having about her.. Denise shivered as I snipped the bra straps and its remains tumbled down her torso and onto the floor. I heard Denise inhale as deeply as possible before I moved to her right hip and sliced through her panties. It was quite obvious that she was a natural redhead when I spied her fiery bush. It was unkempt and needed a serious trim. I had predicted that a conservative woman like Denise would not consider shaping or styling her feminine thatch. Perhaps she wanted to but Darnell forbade it. I realized that was probably the most logical scenario. In any event, Denise's pussy appeared mighty sweet. I noticed a dampness lurking it it that I felt certain was not urine. I ran my hands along her body, gently massaging her breasts and teasing her nipples with my fingers, teeth and tongue. She tried to shrink away from me but there was no place for her to go. I leaned over and spoke forcefully into her left ear as I placed the blade of the shears against her jugular vein.. "I am going to remove the gag in your mouth. No one is around to hear you scream but I expect your cooperation. As bad as you think things are now, they become far worse if you cry out. If you maintain silence you may live to see tomorrow, if you scream, I take my fun and dismember you when I am done. Is that clear?" Denise's already terrified eyes, widened even further, still I read understanding there. I pulled the blade of the shears away from her neck and she nodded her assent. I unfastened the ball gag and she coughed a few times before asking weakly, "Carl, is that you?" Carl was the alias under which I had entered her online and telephone life.. I screwed up my mouth and in my fake Jersey accent replied, "Carl, who the fuck is Carl? As far as you are concerned I have no name and if you call me anything aside from 'Master' I will slit your throat!." "Oh, sweet Jesus! You mean you're not ... Oh God, Oh God!" "What's your bag cunt? Does some guy regularly kidnap and fuck you?" Her pupils contracted into a sea of white. "Oh, no. I just thought..." she said in a panicked tone. "I don't care what you thought, bitch. You are mine now to do with as I please. I'm not a complete ogre, I won't get violent unless you don't cooperate. Let me show you how nice I can be." I fell to my knees and buried my tongue and lips in her sex. Her musky scent filled my lungs. I had not been imagining the dampness. I progressed slowly and deliberately, working her clit with the same elan that had earned me entree into many a tony Park Avenue apartment. Despite being terrorized, she could only resist my oral entreaties so long. Hearing Denise go from sobbing to panting was perhaps my crowning moment of all of the cunnilingus sessions of my life. I knew that I had done more for Denise in the time that had just passed than Darnell had ever done for their entire marriage when the throes of orgasm coursed through her body and she cried an awed, "Jesus!" I rose to my feet, and replied, "My name is "Master" but that is close enough." Her head fell to her chest and she flushed red with humiliation. I waited a long while before her eyes met mine once more. At this juncture I pointed to a mattress on the floor and I said, with what I hoped was the right degree of menace in my voice,. "Red, I can either fuck you on this frame or I can fuck you on the mattress. If I fuck you on the frame, it's a long painful ordeal that will necessitate a great deal of bruising, perhaps even some broken bones. If I take you on the mattress, I will be gentle and considerate. If you can relax, it may even be pleasurable for you but one way or another I am taking your pussy, your mouth and your asshole with my manhood. So which will it be Red?" I will recall the look on Denise's eyes at this point if I live to be a thousand. Her mind was calculating the equation, pain and humiliation or no pain and the same humiliation.. I was making her complicit, to a degree, of her own violation. Yet I had also demonstrated that I could be gentle and giving. It was not an easy decision for any woman to make. At last her tear filled eyes met mine and she stammered. "Pl.. Ple.. Please don't hurt me M ... M ... Master!" I recalled the Mr. Hyde of fiction. As repulsive as he was physically, the ladies loved him because his animal like passion in the bedroom gave them something they were desperately lacking in their restricted Victorian lives. I smiled inwardly when I realized that this pretty young housewife had just welcomed Hyde into her life. "If you are obedient and quiet, I promise not to hurt you. I'll even try to give you more of the sweet loving you have already experienced." I replied as I gestured at her furred box and my lips which were still coated with her juices. Denise nodded and returned with a collar and attached leash. "Here is how this works. So you don't try to run from me you will be collared and leashed like the bitch you are. There are restrains on the mattress for your arms and legs. You can not escape so do not even give the idea a glimmer of thought. If you try to run, things become very bad for you. Is that clear?" Denise swallowed hard and stared at me. I noted her nod and I approached. I took the moment to remove the crucifix from around her neck and the two gold studs and cheap hoops she had in her lobes. I heard her piteous cries as I slid the wedding band and sizable diamond of the third finger of her left hand. She was now, save for the hood, as naked as the day she was born. I placed the collar around her slender neck, cinched it tight and locked it in place with a small padlock. The collar would be one of gifts to her, of course I would wipe away any fingerprints and other evidence before I returned her to her mundane life. Most of what I intended to give her would not be physical. This day I was going to enter Denise's psyche, and not even the best psychiatrists in the world would be able to get me out again. At first she would hate that, but as time passed and life with Darnell closed in about her, she would remember my passion , recall the responses I forced from her and despite herself, smile. Wielding a scalpel like I meant business I freed first her right leg then her right hand. The few remaining bits of fabric restrained by the straps fell to the floor. Denise was well behaved, making no move to kick or strike me. Not that I expected much resistance. I released her left side and tugged quite tightly on the leash. The collar rode up, choking her. If there was any fight in Denise, it evaporated upon witnessing my brute strength and intensity of focus. She coughed and gasped for air as I led her to the mattress and a new set of restraints. In no time I had her spread eagle again. Once she was secure I buried my face In sex again. No woman has ever complained about my cunnilingus abilities. Denise, to her horror , had already joined that chorus of women and I intensified her humiliation by slowly, deliberately and assuredly, bringing her to climax anew. The fear was gone from her eyes but not her confusion as she softly gasped. "Oh, God" and "Jesus" like they were some kind of erotic prayers. While she was still coming to terms with her body's second betrayal, I stood up and stripped off my clothing. As her eyes toured my body, I could tell that any conviction she still clung to that I was Carl vanished when she spied my heavily and satanically tattooed torso. Of course the tats were expensive phonies that would vanish along with all of the other evidence of my presence, but Denise did not grasp that. Her simple trusting mind had accepted the illusion of "Carl" entirely and nothing could dislodge it from her mind. Upon realizing that I truly was some masked nightmare from New Jersey, Denise tried to scoot away from me. I emitted a bitter laugh and said, "There's nowhere to go Red. Now that I've moistened you up down there and softened you up, I'm going to fuck you, HARD!" "Pl ... please don't M ... Master. I'm nobody, just a small town wife and mother. Please let me go! I won't say a word." "Oh, I intend to let you go, AFTER!" With that I was upon her and plunged my manhood deep inside her womanhood. She was still wet from my saliva and her own juices, I slid right in, finding her remarkably tight for a MILF. I began to pump away as I did so I placed my masked face an inch above hers and ordered her to kiss me. That brought a fresh round of tears to her eyes but Denise complied. Both sets of her lips tasted quite nice. I soon established a rhythm, forcing my way deep inside her and pounding away with a clarity of focus as I have rarely experienced. At, some point, I'm not quite sure when, Denise's kisses went from compelled and forced to hungry and seeking. We were between kisses when I came deep inside her. There was a rapid string of kisses and contented moans as I softened and our love juices flowed out and soaked the mattress. As the passion left her, Denise turned her head in shame. I glanced at her. My thoughts were clear,"So this IS what she dreams about in her little country house when her limp-dicked husband paws at her." Even in my lifetime of expertly reading women, this was a bit of a surprise. But then again, most women were not as confined and restricted as Denise had been every day of her short life. Any living organism, if coerced and trained in a particular manner, will react in very weird ways when those strictures are removed. For a moment I pitied Denise, this transitioned to focus in anger at how others had forced their puritanical beliefs upon her. Then I recalled our conversations and reminded myself that Denise had embraced this very life as it was laid out before her. She could have escaped anytime she had wanted, but she never did. She LIKED being told what to be, what to believe, and what to wear, even if that meant sighing in the darkness of her bedroom and imaging the rape fantasies of a teenage girl while in the arms of her husband. God, was she pathetic. I was really going to enjoy taking her asshole, So would SHE! I stared at her, making my eyes hard and narrow, "The proper reaction is to thank me and ask for more, bitch!" . Denise's haunted eyes darted around the mostly empty space of the storage facility before returning to my own. There was sincerity in her eyes now. Like in a child, discovered in a sin. Wheedling and evasion were no longer options, only contrite confession would suffice. Denise realized I had discovered her secret. Fearing the honesty required of the moment, yet, for the first time in her life truly free to admit her secret lust, Denise's mind and body were at last reconciled. Her entire body relaxed in her restraints. He eyes met mine, darted away a final time before focusing once more. She said gently, with almost no emotion, "Thank you Master, may I have some more?" "Certainly, Red." I reached for the tube of lubricant I had stashed near the mattress as well as the scalpel. "I'm go to re-position you, Red, so that I can take your asshole with ease. After that we we'll see how things go, but before you leave this place If you leave this place alive, you will have sucked me off and swallowed my cum." She offered no resistance as I freed her limbs, positioned her on all fours and reattached the restraints. I noted a new tremor coursing through her body as I laid my hands upon her. It was not the same tremor of fear that she had displayed a short time ago. This was deeper, almost like that of a child anticipating a gift. Denise was far more twisted than I had even dared imagine. Gently, I greased up her rear entry and applied a very liberal coating to my cock. Each time my fingers entered her asshole she made a soft sound. It reminded me of a real stuck up uncle I had. He felt it his duty to deny himself all pleasure at family functions. My uncle made the same contorted sound as that coming from Denise's throat when some kindness was displayed to him. An actual smile or laugh would have betrayed his facade of stoic aloofness so he made a sound somewhere between pleasure and annoyance. Denise had, no doubt, dreamed of being taken this way, yet it flew in the face of everything she had been taught. The final defenses she had built around her subconscious were crumbling leaving her conflicted, somewhere between pleasure and annoyance, just like Uncle Jack. In minute increments I worked my way deep into her anus. As I progressed, Denise sounded less like Uncle Jack and more like those Upper West Side widows recovering from conservative husbands. I placed one hand on her shoulder while my other one gently stroked and rubbed her body. In short order, her body ceased flinching at my touch. The annoyance and feigned disgust, soon vanished entirely to be replaced by a sibilant, "Oh, yes. Oh, yes." I hugged her tight as I came and showered her back and shoulders with kisses and nibbles. "You can not enjoy that you enjoyed that, Red. I give you a few moments to contemplate the gift I just presented to you before I clean us up and you set to work on my cock." Denise replied, "Yes, Master." with just a hint of excitement in her voice. It was so often true, the quietest women contained the most raging storms. I stroked and kissed her from shoulder to thigh before I rose and returned with some large wipes, water and towels. Along the way I popped my first Viagra of the night, the spirit was willing but the flesh was weak. My recuperative powers are not bad but I'm not a kid anymore. My first night, with my much older Spanish teacher, well I don't think I could ever repeat that number of climaxes, but I was much younger then. Thinking about Mrs. Cohen and the little blue pill had me hard again a short time later. Immediately, I was back in the present, Denise's astounding body just crying out for my attention. I took a long look at her succulent lips. Denise had a quite sexy set of lips and fine straight teeth. I was sure even Darnell expected oral release. I doubted however that she never swallowed her husband's seed. From what she told me about her church's attitude towards sex, they seemed to regard almost everything beyond straight missionary or anything more than a bit of cunnilingus and fellatio, as the worst kind of perversions. It always amazed me that people could view the pleasure of sexual intimacy as some devilish curse. But then again, once upon a time those same sort of folks managed to get America to ban alcohol despite the fact that a good portion of its citizen enjoyed getting tanked up. All the while allowing minors to buy tobacco and firearms. I would enjoy making Denise service me and swallow my seed. I knelt in front of her my erect rod just inches away from her carmine lips. "I should not have to tell you what I want, Red. Bite me and I slit your throat. Yes, I expect you to swallow every drop. If you spit out my seed, we will do it again and again until you get it right." I noted almost no hesitation as Denise opened her mouth to accommodate my cock. I inched forward and felt her soft red lips around my shaft and the delightful sensation of her pink little tongue going to work. It quickly became apparent that she was not entirely unpracticed. As I moved closer, Denise began sliding her head back and forth with occasional breaks to lick my balls and take each one in turn into her mouth. There was not the slight bit of resistance in her as she continued to work. Denise found a steady rhythm and continued to apply herself. I felt the impending eruption as though it was working its way up from my toes. Gently I grasped the ponytail poking its way out of the rear of the bondage mask and wrapped Denise's crimson hair in my fists. There was no possibility of her pulling away as I shot my most enjoyable load of the day all over the inside of her mouth. Giving Denise my most intense stare I withdrew my now rapidly deflating penis from her most and sensual mouth and placed a finger against her lips. Denise met my gaze. Though it was obvious from her body language that my expectations revolted her, Denise behaved like a champion. I saw her jaw protrude as she forced herself to take a hard swallow. She opened her mouth confirming the fact tat for the first time in her life, Denise had swallowed cum. My smile was genuine as I praised her, "Excellent, Red. You see how pleasant things can be when you obey orders?" I bent and kissed her full on the lips,startling her but before long she was kissing me back. I continued this for a while, enjoying every moment of her capitulation. Because it was true I also praised her beauty and her willingness. Denise seemed taken by my words. "Master, how can you be so cruel yet also so gentle?" she asked at last. "My gentility or my cruelty are completely dependent upon your obedience. The better you obey me the more kindly I will treat you. I can be either Doctor Jekyll OR Mister Hyde, depending upon how YOU act." As I told her this, I gently stroked her cheek and planted a kiss on her leather clad forehead. I rose from the mattress and took a look at my watch which I had left under my shirt. Her bladder had to be at the upper limits of its endurance. It was now getting very late, yet it was still too soon to release her. I hustled over to my extra supplies and gathered up a bedpan. "Now, Red. I'm POSITIVE that you need to answer the call of nature. I will help you . After that I'm going to love you all over your body and end by dining on your firebox and fucking you one more time. If you are a good girl, I'll see that you leave hear unharmed and with only good memories." Denise's eyes grew large when she saw me brandishing the bed pan. I forced the metal object beneath her. The beautiful young mother's eyes took on an imploring look. "M... Master, may I have some privacy?" "Absolutely not. It's either this or I get out a catheter. I'm not real good at putting those things in but if you don't cooperate ..." I left the threat dangle as a adjusted her to optimal position. Denise flushed her deepest red yet. Her head fell to her chest and she uttered a soft "My God." For a long moment nothing happened and then I heard and saw the steady stream of urine filling the pan. I was quite correct about her bladder being at its upper limit. She nearly filled the entire pan. Fresh tears darted down her cheeks as I slid the bedpan out from between her thighs and wiped her off with one of the towels. "See, you didn't die of embarrassment. In fact I think there is a single case in all of human history." I emitted an evil laugh and stated, "You really turn me on, Red. I'm going to re-position you again and work my way down from your chin to your toes.". . Denise was definitely more compliant in obeying this time. I did not even have to wave the blade at her.. In short order she was on her back once again. I gently ran my index finger along the outside of her thigh and over her hip. Denise shivered again, but clearly not from fear. After a lingering osculation which she certainly enjoyed and returned with equal fervor, I began to kiss down her body. For the next several hours I did to Denise what I used to to do the trust fund babes. Those women, unlike Denise, had thought that they had seen it all and had it all done to them. Those illusions vanished as my tongue began its tour of their bodies. From Denise's soft kittenish mewing, I knew with surety that she had never dreamed a man could do this to a woman. I worked my way over her breasts and sent wonderful sensations through her nipples and every part of her breasts as I circled her navel, Denise was panting, "More." over and over again. I reached her newly saturated thatch of womanhood and playfully teased her clitoris. "Don't ... don't stop." she parroted until I buried my face in her sex and gave her the most wonderful orgasm of her life to that point. Her cry of "Goodness!" probably had more sincerity behind it than any prayer she had ever uttered. I was smiling er to ear as I lapped up her juices and continued progressing downward to her thighs. She returned to the kitten sounds until I had finished with each toe. Letting Hyde Out As the results of my lovemaking coursed through her body, my face was above hers. I smiled and stated very simply, "Now, Red, you ask for your Master to fuck you." Denise seemed to have an inner glow as she inhaled deeply and said, "Please, Master, please f-f-fuck me." It was funny watching her struggle with the profanity. I doubted that Denise ever swore and and I was absolutely positive that she had never asked to be fucked before. Her husband was incapable of fucking a woman. Oh, he could perform intercourse all right, which is fine some of the time. On those occasions when his wife wanted a hot and thrusting meat missile, all she could ask for was "a little loving" or perhaps "getting dirty." Asking her husband to fuck her? Not in a thousand lifetimes! By now I was rock hard again. I was a bit disappointed as I knew that this would be the last time I'd be able to get it up tonight. I parted her legs and positioned her for sex before I grinned at her and replied, "I'd be delighted, Red." It took me a very long time to work one out this final time. Denise did not seem to mind. Midway through my exertions, Denise was responding to every thrust and repeating over and over to my pace, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." The subsequent ejaculation was both the most painful and the most pleasurable of my life. I collapsed on top of Denise and herd her gasp and emit a short but lusty laugh. Like all the Victorian ladies, she just adored Mr. Hyde! Spent as I rarely had been I was, at length, able to rise from the mattress and continue with my plans for the night. I cleaned myself up,. cleaned her up and put my clothes back on. Denise was feeling very mellow and was quite content to remain as she was, relaxing on the mattress; for the first time realizing how her life could have gone, should have gone. She never noticed me draw near with a syringe. She felt the sudden prick and a confused look crossed her face before her eyes closed for good as the anesthetic took effect. I gazed down at her blissfully sleeping. There were many things to do before she woke. I fingered her bush. It was full of my DNA so it had to go. From my toolbox, I took a cordless trimmer with an attached hopper and made several passes of Denise's sacred grounds. Darnell would thank me later. I took some shaving cream and using several disposable razors and replaced what was left of her rug with hardwood floors. I ran my fingers and then my tongue over my handiwork. For a wonderful few moments I savored Denise's bald pussy. Next came the messy work. I douched her pussy and asshole twice to remove and destroy any traceable DNA. At my local thrift shop I had bought a dress shirt three sixes larger than myself. Denise practically swam in it but it did hide all of her from view. She would leave in the cuffs and ball gag she had arrived in. I put on surgical gloves, wiped down the mask and collar and returned her to the back seat of my car. With her hidden under a cover, I opened the door to my storage unit, drove out and dropped and padlocked the door behind me. The drive back to her town was not long. I knew right where I was headed. Her small town library was surrounded by a huge hedge and had closed many long hours ago. Just as I had figured the parking lot was deserted and the building was dark. If anyone saw me pull in they would have concluded that I was there to return a book in the after hours slot, so again, no one would see me. I left Denise padlocked to the bicycle rack in front of the library, behind that oh so large hedge. She looked so peaceful and so astoundingly beautiful in my headlights before I drove off. I wondered what she would say to "Carl" when he called in a week's time. I'm sure it would be quite interesting.