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Tough Love

By: lil^pearl



How dare he utter those words to her...those three magical words that every girl dreams about hearing from a man. No...not him! How could he just throw them at her as if she were some sort of charity? 

She turned her back to him, closed her eyes, and inhaled sharply. She tried with all her might to remain calm and figure out why she was so angry at him. She looked down at her hands and noticed that her knuckles had turned pale from gripping onto the metal railing of the balcony; it was all that she could do to keep her hands from trembling and betraying her otherwise calm exterior. Her body remained deathly still, and as the moon above drifted in and out of the clouds, the silhouette of her ripe, young body suddenly became surreal, as if watching a painting come to life. 

A distant wind blew across the sky and swept past her. It lifted the dark tendrils of her hair and carried with it the lush scent of her sweetness and perfume. And when she felt a chill creep down her spine, she reached up to undo the hairpin and welcomed the warmth that followed as her hair cascaded down her shoulders and shielded her body from the cold. The wind toyed with her satin dress, dragging it up slowly against her skin and then letting it drop so that it brushed against the most sensitive part of her ankles. And although her body shivered ever so slightly, she could feel the warmth of the blood coursing through her veins and her cheeks flush in all her fury. 

For once in her life, she had been completely caught off guard. Time and time again she had waited for other men to utter those very words, but not once had she come close to hearing them. She always felt that they had been on the verge of telling her what she need to hear, and had she enough patience to stick around, she might have. She decided once and for all to give up her childish and foolish ideologies of love and romance. But still, she couldn't get his words out of her head. She couldn't forget how sensual his mouth appeared to her and how the outline of his lips curved and curled as he uttered each word slowly and deliberately, as if trying to mock her. 

Cindy finally opened her eyes and let out a soft sigh. She couldn't help but admire the view in front of her. Everything appeared so perfect. The moon appeared directly above them and illuminated their bodies with its gentle glow. She could smell the rich, salty scent of the ocean below them and lost herself in the rhythmic undulations of the waves as they crashed against the shore. Her gaze drifted down to the beach where she saw another couple walking hand in hand, their faces all lit up with big smiles, and their stealing of kisses when they thought no one was watching. She wished that she had allowed herself to feel that sort of intimacy and closeness, but it was all too late. She had promised herself that she would live a life without any regrets. 

"Cindy, why are you so quiet?" he inquired softly. She heard him take a few steps forward and felt the warmth of his body behind her. She closed her eyes again and inhaled deeply, reveling in a rich mixture of aftershave and cologne that was both sweet and musky and so intoxicating. She felt him lean into her as he grabbed a hold of her waist and pressed his warm lips against her ear...

"Cindy? Did you hear what I just said to you? Answer me." 

She trembled at the way his words resounded in her ears and how his breath teased and stimulated every one of her nerve-endings. Cindy gently pushed his hands off her hips and leaned her body into the edge of the balcony. She reached up to smooth the hair away from her face, but he caught her hand in midair and squeezed it gently. Cindy laughed.

"Yes I heard you. You really are very funny tonight. It must be all those drinks you've had because you've said nothing but nonsense all night," she replied and tried to free her hand from his grasp. The more she struggled, the firmer his hold over her, and when she finally realized that he wasn't giving up so easily, she stopped struggling and stood still. She could feel his body press up against her back and his big arms encircle her waist once again. 

"Cindy...why do you always have to be so difficult?" he asked.

"Why does everyone think that I'm so difficult?" she hissed. She had been down this road before and wasn't looking forward to the conversation they were about to have.

"What are you afraid of? Why don't you just open up and enjoy it," he replied.

"WHAT? Why don't I just open up and enjoy what? Just say it. You know, you sure have a lot of nerve--" and in that moment, he lifted her chin to him and smothered those pouty red lips with a deep, passionate kiss. And as he sucked on her lips and drew them into his mouth, he could feel the pulsating heat of her body and the sweet taste of desire on her tongue. She tried breaking the kiss but as she struggled, his fingers wrapped around her neck and forced her still. His tongue pushed past her lips and penetrated her mouth, forcing her to suck on it. And when she opened her mouth further to protest, she heard herself moan instead and couldn't help but suck on his tongue and draw him into her inferno, her wet desire. He could feel her body begin to yield and almost submit to him. 

He knew that he had to act fast; he didn't want to give her time to think or to regain her composure. All he wanted to do was to overwhelm her completely and to make her feel as much as possible – even if it meant forcing himself on her. His left hand reached up to caress her succulent breast while his other hand slid underneath her dress to cup the soft mound of her sex. He squeezed it gently and when his fingers tried to slip under her panties, he felt her body resist him and her legs cross over in an attempt to shield her from his touch. 

"Richard! What are you do--" 

"Open. Open up for me Cindy," he commanded.

"NO!! What's gotten into you? Richard!" He felt her try to push away but he was unrelenting. He used both hands to pry her legs apart and then slipped two fingers inside her, filling her up completely. When she gasped and reached forward to grab a hold of the balcony, he forced them deeper inside her wet hole and felt it cinch around his fingers. He smiled to himself when his fingers were greeted with a flood of wetness. 

"Ooooooh baby, you're so wet for me," Richard said as he curled his fingertips upward and continued to finger fuck her sweet pussy. He bit down on the soft spot of her neck and inhaled her rich, feminine scent as he listened to the sounds her pussy made when his fingers slid in and out of her hole. God, he wanted to stick his cock up her sweet cunt right now and fuck her, but that would be too easy. He wanted her to feel what it was like to have desire and lust. Richard began to tweak and pinch her left nipple while his right hand parted her swollen lips and found her clit. He rubbed it, pinched it, and knew that this was too much for her to handle, but he didn't care. He wanted her to feel the intensity and passion of it all.

Cindy gasped and moaned as her body convulsed under his touch. She cursed herself for being so turned on and wet for him. She loved how he had violated her pussy with his fingers and how he toyed with her clit right now. Cindy arched her back and closed her eyes as his fingers circled her throbbing clit and rubbed her into oblivion. She tried closing her legs again but his hands pried her thighs apart and his knee slipped between them from behind.

"Don't try to fight it baby. I know you love it. Look how wet your pussy is and how your juices drip down the crack of your ass and down your fucking legs. I'll bet you're getting close huh? I can hear it in your breathing," Richard said. He could feel her thighs tremble around his hand and her entire body tense at his touch. He knew she was at the brink of an orgasm, but wasn't going to let her off that easily. Richard unzipped his pants and pulled out his thick, hard cock. He took his fingers out of her cunt and began stroking himself with her juices.

"Oh fuck...this feels so good baby. Oh yeah...I love stroking myself with your cunt juices all over me," Richard said as he pulled up the back of her dress and pressed his knee between her thighs, forcing them apart. 

"Now spread your legs wide and open up for me Cindy. I want you to enjoy this too," he commanded.

"Go fuck yourself, Richard!" Cindy hissed as she tried tugging down her dress. 

"Honey, you've got it all wrong. It's you I'm going to fuck, now spread your legs because I think it's about time I shut you up and fuck that cunt," Richard said and laughed. He yanked up her dress again and pushed her forward so that her ass was up in the air; he moaned as it pressed against his throbbing cock. Richard loved how her pink thong rode up the crack of her gorgeous ass and couldn't resist squeezing those perfectly shaped cheeks and giving them a slight swap. 

Cindy gritted her teeth. She hated how he was humiliating her and enjoying every moment of it. His big hands spread warmth across her luscious bottom as they idly caressed and explored her body. And as he leaned forward to nestle his cock between the crack of her ass, his hand moved forward and cupped her deliciously wet pussy. 

"Now, maybe this will help you open up," Richard said as he yanked up the front of her thong and forced it up between her pussy lips. He smiled when he heard her gasp and suddenly spread her legs to keep her balance.

"See, now that wasn't too hard was it?" Richard chuckled.

"Oh go to hell!" Cindy said. She tried to pry his hands away from her thong but that only made him laugh and yank it up higher so that the thin lace grazed against her clit and soaked up her juices. Cindy moaned and tilted her head back as her hips pushed forward. This was so unbearable! She couldn't think or fight back anymore. All she wanted to do was grind her clit against her thong and rub herself to oblivion. 

"You like that don't you Cindy. Yeah, fuck your panties and make them nice and wet for me. Ooooh yeah, you're making me so fucking hard! I can't take this anymore," he said as his hands grabbed onto her hips and his knees kicked apart her thighs once again. And without any warning, Richard rammed his cock up her tight pussy, filling her completely, and moaned as he felt it cinch around his dick. 

"Oh god, Richard...OOhhh...fuck!" Cindy said, half-gasping and half-moaning, 

"Yeah, I know you love it when I fill you up baby," Richard said. He watched her hands grip the rail as he pushed in deeper, stretching her out and feeling her pussy pull him in. No matter how many times he'd fuck her, she was always warm, wet, and tight for him. He lifted up her dress so he could look down and see his cock buried between her ass cheeks and up that pretty tight cunt of hers. He loved how she milked him and reached down to squeeze his balls so he could empty all his cum into her hot little snatch. 

"Oh Cindy...I wish you could see this. It's so fucking hot when I pull out and look down and see your juices cover my dick," Richard said as he thrust back into her. He heard her gasp and smiled to himself. He couldn't help but notice how gorgeous she appeared while he fucked her. The beads of sweat on her skin reflected the moonlight and the heat from her body gave off a sensuous glow. Her body felt so alive; it pulsated with desire and undulated beneath him with every thrust. Richard's fingers slid up the cool fabric of her dress and found the zipper. He pulled it down slowly, inhaling the outpour of perfume from her body, and was mesmerized by the way her back arched against him when he pushed into her, and how it curled forward when he pulled out. His fingers slipped under the front of her dress and found her nipples erect and awaiting his touch. 

Cindy moaned when his fingers found the sensitive tips of her nipples and gasped as he rolled them between his thumb and finger, pinching them and tweaking them. She closed her eyes and bit down on her lower lip, trying to remain quiet. Her entire body trembled as the mixture of cold and warmth swept through her: the feeling of Richard's warm hands on her breasts and his cock buried in her pussy set her body on fire, but the cool ocean breeze blew against her face and sent shivers down her spine. She felt him lift up her hair and drape it over her shoulder to expose her backside and trembled when his warm tongue touched her skin and dragged up her spine to the top of her neck. And when he bit down on the soft, sensitive part of her neck and thrust deep into her again, her knees weakened and she felt his arms around her waist, holding her up. 

"Oh yes Richard...oh god, fuck me," she whispered with a familiar and quiet urgency. 

"Oh yes baby. Give in to me. Open yourself to me," Richard whispered as he swirled his tongue in her ear and pinched both nipples even harder. He could feel her body submitting to him and moaned as he felt her opening up to him, accepting him completely, and coating his cock with more of her wetness. And when he heard her soft pants and tiny gasps grow more urgent, he drove himself harder and deeper into her. 

"Oh yeah baby, you're getting close aren't you? You want to come all over my cock and soak it, don't you," Richard said. He placed his left hand on her inner thigh and squeezed the soft flesh and with his right hand, he tugged her panties to one side and dipped his fingers into her cunt, bathing them with her juices before bringing them up to her face.

"Mmm baby, see how wet you are for me? Look at all those juices. I want you to taste yourself baby. Suck on my fingers," Richard said. He thought that she would curse at him again or put up another fight, but she bent her head forward and sucked on each finger gently and delicately. He could feel her tongue swirling at his fingertips and her lips lapping up her juices while her mouth moved up and down the length of his fingers. The feeling of warmth and wetness from her mouth just drove him wild. He forced two fingers up her mouth and made her suck on them while his left hand found her clit and started rubbing it fiercely. 

Cindy tried to moan as his fingers swirled around her clit and pinched it and slapped it, but her sounds were muffled by the prying and forcing of his fingers into her mouth. He made her taste herself on his fingers and her sweet, musky scent filled her nostrils. She loved how his fingers filled her mouth while his cock rammed into her cunt. The sensation was unbelievable and it felt so wonderful to be used like this. And as his cock started thrusting harder and faster into her, she couldn't help but bite into his fingers and grind her horny little clit against him.

"Oh Richard...I'm going to cum..oh god, I'm so close. Fuck me Richard, please fuck me...Oh god, I want you so badly," Cindy moaned. 

"That's it, tell me to fuck you. I know you want me to cum up that tight hole don't you? You want to feel me splash inside you and coat that pussy," Richard said as he rammed into her harder and released the first squirt of cum inside her.

"OH GOD I'M CUMMMING RICHARD...YES, FUCK ME!! CUM INSIDE ME!" Cindy screamed as the first wave of her orgasm struck and shook her body. She reached down to press Richard's hand harder against her clit and started grinding against it. She wanted to milk the cum out of his cock with her orgasm. She moaned as she felt the pressure of his cum squirting into her and filling up her pussy. And when he gave his final thrust, she felt the entire weight of his body against her back. Both of them leaned against the rails of the balcony, panting and moaning in the still of the night... 

And with his cock still hard inside of her, Richard pulled her chin up to him once again and engulfed her mouth with a passionate and sensuous kiss. He sucked on her soft, wet tongue, tasting her sweetness, and then bit down gently on her lower lip. He then kissed her forehead and then whispered gently into her ear:

"Cindy, did you hear what I had said to you earlier," Richard asked as his lips trailed down to the nape of her neck. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly...reveling in the musky outpour of perfume and sweat from her skin. 

"Yes Richard, I heard you," Cindy said as she wrapped his arms around her body.

"Well?" Richard asked.

"I love you too," Cindy replied and smiled.

Tough Love



"So, Kearney, I called Lon, and he's coming over, honey. In about an hour?"

"Lon? There's no game on tonight. We're watching the Braves game tomorrow--"

"Not about that, dear. Remember? You disappointed me again."

Kearney Radebaugh looked uneasily at Geneva, his wife of 12 years. But she just smiled, her eyes twinkling.

Geneva had bouncing shoulder length auburn curls, and a swelling chest in her snug black sweater.

Kearney had not seen Geneva's breasts nude in some time, and had not touched them in nearly eight years...not even at Christmas!

"Boobies are for men to play with, not little boys." Geneva always said.

Now, Geneva bent over her newest project, a Broomstick Lace sky blue alpaca silk shawl, quite ambitious for one who had only been crocheting for eighteen months.

Since Geneva had contracted fibromyalgia, she'd lost a great deal of strength in her arms, and it was actually quite remarkable that she could still crotchet, but she'd always had nimble fingers.

Before the illness had hit, Gen had had lots of energy, especially in her arms--Kearney remembered! If she found one of his naughty magazines, or he'd forgotten to iron her good skirt...goodness!

Geneva would swing her one hundred ten pound frame at him, ripping down his pants, and swinging the razor strop against his buttocks until he howled in misery.

There had been times when Genni had tied him to the garage ceiling and whipped his naked squirming form with a car ariel until he'd challenged the neighborhood cats in competitive screeching.

But of course Genni's upper body strength was nothing compared to Lon's. Kearney shivered, remembering Lon cracking the rawhide, Marlboro sticking out of his jaw...

"Cry like a baby, punk, you sniveling little bitch, your screamin makes me sick!" Lon's voice would savage Kearney almost as viciously as the strop cutting the tender area between his naked buttocks and thighs...

And then the afterward--Lon skull fucking Kearney's painted lips as Geneva laughed, clapping her hands!

Gen's voice brought Kearney back to the present.

"Now Kearney, Lon will be over soon, so I think you'd better prepare yourself." Geneva smiled encouragingly...

"Why don't you put on your nice garter belt and thigh highs. I bought you a frilly new Jezebel Scandalous set in Tawny Peach."

Kearney sighed. Just last Wednesday, when he, Lon and the other electricians on the Ivydale scaffolding job were throwing darts at Teehan's, when Kearney had noticed that it was six-thirty.

"I gotta go, guys...dinner." He'd turned to leave, but noticed... Lon had winked at Luther and Diego...and they'd snickered!

What had Lon told them? That he, Kearney, the big stud, soon to be promoted to project scheduler had to be home to start dinner...or else?

For the nine years that he'd been Geneva's submissive, it had always just been between them, in the house, and as long as Kearney made it home for dinner, did his chores and was home by nine-thirty on the very rare boy's nights out...the secret was kept.

But Lon's new intervention in their private relationship was now opening the secrets up!

And what was worse--Lon punishing Kearney, Kearney being force-fucked and sucked by Lon...or the blossoming relationship with Geneva and Lon?

Several years ago, Geneva had told Kearney that she no longer had the "energy" to make love to him--blamed it on the illness.

But now, often after Kearney was weeping after a good thrashing, or rubbing his nipples after Lon had knocked mousetraps off them, Lon and Genni would repair to the bedroom...for a few laughs.

And sometimes Kearney would hear Lon visiting Geneva while Kearney was in bed--Geneva had poor Kearney on the bedtime of a six year old, about seven-thirty at night.

And tonight it would be punishment, probably Lon sodomizing poor Kearney, and then "quiet time" for Lon and Geneva while Kearney had to go to bed early in his pink footie pajamas!

Unbearable!

How could he talk his way out of the punishment?

Kearney now turned to Geneva, trying to frown. "Gen, honey, can we just let it go? I know you're upset that I messed up the curtains--"

Geneva smiled serenely. "I told you to check the care label. You don't focus. Now my grandmother's antique hand embroidered lace curtains are ruined."

"I'll pay for them--really." Kearney was getting loud, and he knew he'd lost the argument but--

"Pay for them? Out of your allowance?" Geneva smiled and pointed a burgundy nail to the bedroom, and Kearney, who signed his paychecks to his wife, dropped his head to his chest and slumped to the bedroom.

Kearney pulled off his flannel shirt and his denims, after stepping out of lace-up tactical combat boots.

Briefly, he admired his pecs, before sighing once again and searching through the "special drawer" for the garter belt, thigh high peach stockings and high heeled pumps from Tallulah Tranny Warehouse.

Kearney pulled his panties over his chastity device. It had been 181 days--over six months, since he'd had a release...

And his cock was really struggling against the tough plastic...harder than when Geneva tied Kearney down and gave him those unfulfilling, teasing handjobs...before locking him right back up again, still horny!

Sadly, Kearney knew in his heart that being humiliated by his wife and his best friend was tremendously arousing.

"And Nair those legs!" came Geneva's voice from the living room. "Lon doesn't want to see any stubble!" Kearney's face reddened, and a tear streamed down his bronzed right cheek.

His best friend. Two tough guys who had raised hell together for so long...but it all had changed!

Kearney had always thought Lon was a good-looking guy, big, blond moustache, and all that...but up close it was so intense!

After the first time that Geneva called Lon to come over and "deal with"Kearney, Lon no longer really participated in the competitive buddy-buddy guy stuff with Kearney anymore.

Instead of exchanging dirty jokes and whistling at secretaries who walked past the site, Lon now often told Kearney to tuck in his shirt, and to focus. Being "helpful" he called it.

But to Kearney, it was the killing of a friendship, man!

Geneva sent Kearney back to the bedroom to put on a little eye shadow and to paint his fingers and toes Shocking Magneta. The stockings actually did feel rather comfortable next to Kearney's now smooth thighs.

When he finally came out, teetering on the six inch heels, Gen demanded a twirl, and then she pointed to the corner. "You can wait there, Missy, until Lon gets here."

Kearney sighed again. "Yes ma'am." He turned to go press his nose in the corner, when he heard Geneva gasp.

"What's this? You have a run in your stocking? Already?" Geneva got up, tossing her unfinished shawl to the floor.

Crossing the room, Geneva picked up a cane. The weakness in her arms apparently was not that bad tonight, as she grabbed Kearney's ear and pressed him over the piano bench.

"You just are the laziest little slovenly slut." Geneva yanked down Kearney's panties, just to the garter strap. "Count and thank me, Missy."

WHACK! Oh, the sting. "One, Thank you, Miss Geneva." THWACK! "T-two, thank you--"

By the twenty-fifth lash Geneva was too tired to continue, and Kearney was sobbing. She snapped her fingers and he trudged to the corner, panties around his knees.

"I am so glad that I asked Lon to help me with your discipline, Kearney. I just don't have the energy anymore...though you did get a few effects from it!"

Yes indeed, Kearney was crying and his buttocks were double welted from the cane. It was not quite as painful as last Sunday, when Lon and Geneva had tied the naked Kearney to the picnic table in the backyard and broken five or six soaking wet hazel switches on his tender bottom.

Kearney had howled bitterly and Lon had screamed at his former best pal. "Shut your mouth, baby or I'll give you something to cry about."

And the kids next door had kibitzed the whole thing, looking over the fence. Kearney was indeed the laughingstock of the neigbhorhood these days. "Got your whippin' this week, Mr. Radabaugh?"

Now, Kearney pressed his nose in the corner and bit his lip, anticipating Lon's arrival.

Soon the doorbell would ring, there would be a too-long kiss between Lon and Geneva, and then Lon's rough voice--"Hey there, buddy, you ready for some tough love?"



Tough Love



As you fall into sleep, you have that not uncommon feeling of missing a step and falling. This time, you continue to fall. for what seems like hours, you go down, down, down, with no ground in sight. There is no up, no down, no left or right, there is no anything.

Out of nowhere, you feel a slight tugging at your wrists. Something come to stop your decent? To save you from whatever lies below? You look up, and there around you are three ginormous black birds; silver tipped wings lightly brushing your sides, stirring a breeze to chill your lightly clad body.

You are transfixed, watching these monstrous creatures as they so calmly and quietly pull you through the air from one nothingness to another, when you feel another tug at your wrists. You look to the forward leading birds but they haven't changed. Their speed is the same, their direction, as far as you can tell, is the same, they haven't moved to what seemed at the moment to be up and down. Confused, you relax, again looking at the birds on their steady flight, wondering absently where you might be going. Then you feel it at your ankles, a harder pull than last time, and outward.

Bewildered now, you watch as your legs move apart, the birds moving formation as necessary to continue their flight. There is nothing for a moment, no feeling as you soar through nothingness, and you once more relax into a state of relaxation and carelessness. Then you feel a sharper tug, this now at your waist, and you see nothing, of course, that could be causing it. The tugging continues, and you begin to squirm. Finally the birds look at you, as if to reprimand you, their cold black marble eyes staring into you. You ignore them as the tugging at your waist moves to your chest, and squirm harder, relentlessly trying to pull away from the flock, to free your arms and stop the pulling that has now lifted your back to a slight arch.

"Oh god woman, don't start this now."

You jump at the voice that seems to come from somewhere distant, yet so close. Squirming harder, you feel a sharp slap to your thigh.

"Stop moving dammit."

You cry out at the quickly receding pain, and suddenly realize you're not flying, you're still at home in your bed, right where you know you'd be. you start to sit up- that's when you see the ties, securely pulling your arms and legs to the four corners of your bed, as the birds had flown with you only moments ago. You pull frantically at your bindings, and feel pressure on your shoulders.

"I would stop now if I were you."

You finally look next to the bed, pulling your eyes from the silken rope twisted and twined between your wrists and the bed posts. The lights are dim, but you can still see him fairly well. He is tall, much taller than you; his skin is not dark, but its tan is deceiving in the faint light. He is strong, too strong, you think, as you look from his thick muscular arms to his hard, faintly defined chest and abs. In fact, he looks good, you think, wondering at his dark charcoal eyes and his smile, not there a before but building up now as he sees you watching him. You look away, cursing yourself for encouraging him, but still in awe over his picturesque appearance. Angry at yourself now, you yank at your bonds, pulling this way and that, trying to at least loosen the knots holding you there.

His smile fades, and he pushes down your shoulders, saying quietly, "You will stop pulling, now."

"Fuck you," you say, and you continue to pull at your wrists, forgetting your ankles as he steps closer to you, now standing against the bed, looking down on you.

"Not quite yet, but I will," He says, quietly leaning down to pull another strap from the side of the bed. He tosses it across your chest, then walks to the other side of the bed, finding the other end and taking the first end. He lifts them so they lay across you, just below your elbows, and ties it, pulling it tight enough that you can no longer move your arms. He slaps your thigh again, this time the one closer to him, and whispers, "don't make me do that to your legs, I want you to be able to move.

"What the hell do you want?" you ask, careful not to look at his eyes as you feel them boring into you.

"I would think that's obvious, I want you."

"I'll scream," you say, in almost a whisper, more scared now that your arms are immobile, and he almost smiles.

"Well we can't have that, can we?" He asks, a coy grin passing over his face for no more than a second. He reaches down beside the bed again, and you hear a zipper open. He stands up a moment later, holding something you don't recognize. Slipping the strap behind your head, he plugs your nose to make you open your mouth, tightening it with the solid piece holding your mouth wide open, the strap fixing it solidly in place. You take a breath, about to scream, when he puts his hand over your mouth.

"Oh no, none of that," he whispers. "We can't have you doing that. But that's alright, I can make you stop." That coy smile spreads across his face again, gone in an instant, as he uses his free hand to slowly undo his belt, take off his jeans, and push down his boxers, kicking them off his ankles. He then gets onto the bed, straddling your sides, and removing his hand from your mouth as he replaces it with his huge dick. Only starting to get hard, it's still big enough to fill your mouth, making you breathe through your nose. He is pushing it in and out as he leans over her, hands to either side of your head but far above it, using the angle to push his dick deep in your mouth. You try to make noise, but all it does is give him a slight vibration, and he pushes harder, his cock growing in your mouth, almost too big to fit.

"Oh fuck yesss," he pants, slamming his dick harder into your mouth, barley letting it hit your throat. Your cries of "No" turn to more vibrations, and he plugs your nose to make you stop, not wanting to cum just yet. After a few seconds he bites his lip hard, then pulls out, letting go of your nose and moving his hand back down to your mouth to stop any further cries. He swings his leg over you, moving back beside the bed. He reaches down to your waist and pulls one more time, hard. The partially cut sides and middle of your panties snap, and he moves his hand to fill your mouth with them. From the bag he takes duct tape and he removes the strap from your head, duct taping across your filled mouth instead.

"Now it's time for a question," he tells you. "Do you know what I want from you?" You shake your head no. "Really? Well, I'll fix that." Again, you shake your head no, and he smiles. "Are you arguing with me?" One more time, you shake your head no. "Well, I guess you'll learn," he sighs, before reaching back down to the bag. When he stands back up, his hands are full of things you don't recognize, and he spreads them across the foot of the bed. He Walks back up to your head, and you jump as he bites your neck, gently sucking. He climbs back on the bed and moves between your legs, and you start pulling at your legs, trying to break free.

"I said no," he tells you, as he again slaps your thigh. "Keep doing that and I'll have to punish you." You stop pulling, scared at the dark tone in his voice, and you see him take extra ropes from the sides of the bed, tying off your knees. He loosens your feet and you take a chance, trying to kick free. He easily restrains you and tightens the knee ropes so your legs are forced apart, knees in the air. With an amused smirk, he bites your thigh, making you jump in pleasure and pain.

"Don't make me hurt you," he reprimands, looking at your thigh as though he wanted to bite again. He gives in and bites, but not as hard now, lightly biting from your knee to just beside your lips. You're squirming, but he doesn't seem to mind now. He moves to the other leg and does the same, then reaches up and pulls apart the last bit of material holding your shirt together. opening it, he pulls a knife from on your bedside table where he must have put it, and resumes cutting as he had before you awoke. Easily breaking through the material, he cuts the sleeves, tossing it to the ground and replacing the knife.

He leans up, and, watching your expression, starts to fondle, suck and nip at your breasts. You squirm again, but this only seems to drive him further, as he reaches down between your legs to feel your wetness. "Baby, you're getting wet," he tells you. You squirm again, trying to pull away, and he bites harder, leaving a slight red mark on your breast. You flinch, and he smiles, sliding a finger into you. You squeeze hard, wanting it to stop, but he likes the tightness and begins to slide in and out, adding another finger and letting his palm press against your pussy every time he pushes into you.

You're trembling, and he likes it. He moves down between your legs and slides his fingers back in, pressing up to your g-spot and licking across your slit. Your back arches for a moment before you can control it, but he's getting even more turned on, and he moves his other hand to spread your lips, lightly sucking your clit and making your legs shake. He smiles again, seeing you loose your control, and reaches behind him, picking up another unknown object. He licks your kitty again, pressing hard with his tongue, twisting his fingers inside you like a cork screw, then presses the bullet hard against your clit, turning it to full power and holding it there as you jump and then buck, trying to escape the too-strong vibrations. He pulls it away, then takes another toy, this time a vibrator, and slips it into you, slowly turning it up as he goes back to licking and sucking your kitty.

You moan through the tape and he takes out the vibe, then gently bites your kitty. You cant stand it and start to rock your hips, needing more. He pulls back, watching you writhe, slowly running his hand up and down his swollen dick, grown at least three inches in size and almost twice as thick. he takes the bullet again and slides it into a butterfly, turns it on a slower setting, presses it to your clit and turns it up just enough to make you squirm. Biting his lip and holding your hips firmly in place, he slides his dick up and down your slit feeling you try to pull back, turning him on even more, as he finds what he wants.

He gently pushes against your hole, feeling already that its too tight to take you all at once. He reaches over, takes the KY, and slides it over his cock, then grips your hips harder and slowly pushes himself inside you. His huge head pops inside you and you try to scream out, but he hears nothing but a mumble, as he gently pushes harder, mumbling "Oh fuck yes," moaning as he slides an inch, then two inches into you. He works himself back and forth, holding your squirming hips with a death grip, whispering that he's gonna fuck you so good you can't walk. He's pushing as hard as he can, half inside you, three quarters, and you scream as he pushes fully inside you. Again he doesn't hear, and he throws his head back as he pushes all the way in. "Oh fuckkk!" He moans as he pushes deep, pulling your hips as hard as he can, making you stretch farther than you thought possible.

He grunts and pulls back an inch or so, then commences pounding into you as hard as he can. You can feel him getting close and you pull harder than ever trying to get away. He hardly notices as he slides almost all the way out till just his head is inside you, then slams in again, back and forth, pumping in and out of you like you're nothing but a sex doll. He looks down at your face and slows, noticing finally that he's just too big for you. Panting, he pulls out of you, the suction from his huge cock so strong it almost hurts. Moving again to straddle you, he pulls the tape from your mouth, promising to fuck you again if you don't do as your told. You nod, and he leans forward, lifting your head, sliding a pillow under, and telling you to open your mouth and take it.

You do as he says, and he puts his hands on either side of your head up above you again, using the angle of the pillow to fuck your mouth like your pussy, slower and deeper, pushing into your throat. You feel him throbbing and you can feel that he's close again. You hold your breath and try to ignore your reflexes, but he stays too long and you swallow. He seems to like this as he jerks a but, pulls back, and thrusts back into your throat, again holding himself inside you too long and you swallow, needing air.

He moans, pulling back for a moment, and you gasp for air before he pushes inside you yet again. Impatient, he plugs your nose and pushes hard against your throat. You swallow again and again, desperate for air, your head pushed deep into the pillow by the pressure of his hips and dick pushing you down. Giving you a moment to breathe, he moves one hand back, squeezing his shaft, quickly pumping it up and down and he pushes into you, groaning as his body shakes and he cums deep in your throat. He waits a minute, then slowly slides out, wiping your eyes off with the edge of the blanket as they were watering from lack of air.

Moving down your body, he turns off and undoes the butterfly, and getting up, walks to the side of the bed. He moves quickly, first untying one knee, then the ankle, never letting go of your leg. he moves toward your head and ties the rope attached to your ankle again, this time to the bedpost by your wrist, so that you are bent almost in half, leg above you. He moves to the other side of the bed and repeats the process, then climbs back on the bed, where he now has perfect access without your legs getting in his way. 

You're still shaky from him taking you, and you look fearfully at him as he lightly runs a finger down your slit, barley putting any pressure on you. He reaches beside him and takes the vibrator, coating it in lube, and slides it up and down your lips. You breathe a little easier, knowing it won't be him inside you this time, slowly relaxing your stiff arms and fists, earlier held tight in your struggle.

Just then, he slides it farther down, down to your ass, and you tense up again, hoping he won't do it. He runs the tip of the vibrator in little circles as you squirm, then gently pushes, a little at a time, though it doesn't keep you from crying out. After a few minutes of working it back and forth, he finally slides it all the way in, watching your face as he slides it in and out, seeing you finally resign to it, feeling the pleasure once the pain subsides. He takes it out, slapping your ass as he does, and leans up to untie your ankles.

You melt against the bed, finally able to relax some, and he moves up to kiss you. Not wanting him angry now that you're somewhat more free, you oblige. You try to ignore it, but you like it, and are a bit put out as he starts to kiss back down to your kitty. With a small smile, he leans down and licks your pussy, teasing you. Flicking his tongue across your clit, he watches your expression, repeating motions when he sees you flinch or quiver.

He teases you, watching your body squirm, this time involuntarily, then slides one finger, then two into your aching pussy. It's so sensitive and sore you can feel every tiny movement, and you arch your back as he lightly presses against your g-spot. He continues to gently finger you, twisting and turning his fingers, pressing them to your g-spot, teasing you, and moves his mouth back down to lightly suck your clit. You arch your back and moan, and he sucks harder, not having heard you moan before. He moves his fingers faster, hitting your g-spot over and over, and you wrap your legs over his shoulders, shaking harder as he plays with your pussy, nipping, teasing, licking and sucking. You can't take it any more and he feels you start to contract around his fingers.

At that, he reaches for the bullet, turns it on low, presses it to your clit, and continues fingering licking and sucking. You can only take it for a few moments and then you're over the edge in orgasm; back arched, breathing hard, legs clamped tight against his shoulders, cumming over and over, squirting and moaning and shaking all over. Finally you collapse, and he smiles, kissing your kitty and moving up to kiss your lips, smelling so sweet you have to taste. You kiss him, tasting yourself, as he unties your wrists from above you. You slowly move your arms down as they're a bit sore, wrapping them around your neck and relaxing against the pillow.

"Night, baby, I missed you," he whispers. "Love you."

"G'nite, love you too."



Tough Love



I would like to thank Echa724 and Kinkyashley347 for their editing of this story, I'm so happy there are people out there wanting to help.

(c) 2012 graymangazer. 

Part One 

Proposal

I fell in love with my future wife the moment I first saw her. 

Lucy walked through my office door to temporarily replace my retired secretary, and at twenty five years old she was eight years my junior, she's tall-5ft 10in and slim, with dark red hair crowning a beautiful face with green eyes, she has a narrow nose and a mouth that I suspected at one time contained childhood buck teeth that had since been straightened and left a slightly protruding top lip giving her a very sexy pout, she has a body with all the curves in the right places and long shapely legs, she was and still is absolutely perfect to me

I immediately made her my full time secretary and after a week we went on our first date.

Lucy said she liked me, I was so happy just to be with her and I was sure that given time she would fall in love with me, I romanced her and I was the happiest man alive when a month after our first meeting she did indeed say she loved me.

She has the looks and charm to get just about anything she wants, but she's not spoilt or haughty, she's a genuinely nice person, she never gossips or puts anyone down and she's probably the most helpful person I know, she would literally give you her last penny.

She is also clever and very intelligent and it was always clear that she would succeed in whatever she chose to do.

I felt so lucky: she was never short of admirers but she chose me.

I'm not the greatest catch in the world, I'm 6`2" and 190lbs, I don't have a face to make women swoon but I'm certainly not ugly, with longish black hair and blue eyes, my best feature is my smile-so I've been told and my openness, I listen to people, I'm calm and perhaps just a bit too gentle and trusting, but hey, that's me, and I've got by okay so far.

Lucy and I loved one another. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I couldn't see any point in hanging around, so I proposed. It was a whirlwind romance and we married three months later.

I'd had a good job with a successful midsize promotions company since I'd left university and with the help of an inheritance was able to buy a sizeable house on the outskirts of town with a modest mortgage. Lucy moved in on the return from our honeymoon and it wasn't long before the whole place was redecorated to her liking, she wasn't bossy or demanding, she just had much better taste than me.

Everything was perfect, we were so happy together and two years later Lucy was promoted to the same position as myself, we celebrated with a weekend at a luxury spa where we spent most of the time having mind blowing sex.

Work was great, we now spent a lot of time together on the same projects, home was great, our social life was good and our sex life was fantastic, the future looked golden, but then came the recession.

It turned out to be a mixed bag for us, I was told I was being let go as the firm was restructuring, I immediately went to give Lucy the bad news, I was ready to console her, feeling sure that she would be going too, only to be met by my smiling and happy wife, she had in fact been promoted to department manager, I was very disappointed for myself but I was really over the moon for her.

Things were not so bad though, I received a decent severance package, but with Lucy's improved salary she persuaded me it would make sense to use a good part of my money to pay off some of the mortgage.

I took time out to pursue a few hobbies and look for my ideal job, but as the weeks passed it became clear employment wouldn't be so easy to find, positions that I thought I would acquire easily always seemed to go to someone else, to people I thought less qualified.

My money was rapidly running out and I was eating into my savings, soon I was having trouble paying the bills, I believed it was a mans place to provide for his wife so I had never asked Lucy to contribute to our household finances, but now I felt it was time to swallow my pride and ask for her help.

To my surprise she didn't agree immediately, but said she would have to speak to her financial advisor.

I wasn't happy with her, as I thought it showed a lack of commitment on her part, but she persuaded me that she just wanted to make our positions clear.

The upshot of it all was that Lucy would take over the mortgage payments and the control of our finances, at least until I found employment.

With the help of the firms resident lawyer we signed papers giving Lucy a half share of the house and financial control, whilst I used what was left of my own money to pay for my personal requirements.

As my savings dwindled I found I was unable to spend and socialise as much as I would like, so I became frustrated and irritable, I noticed Lucy becoming more impatient with me, and this made me feel guilty, here was my lovely wife working hard every day, while I lounged around sulking about not having a job.

I vowed to make things better for us, if I couldn't find work then I would do more around the home. I started to do all the cooking, having meals ready for when Lucy came home at night and generally pampering her. I also did all those little jobs that one never seems to get around to doing. The cleaning was taken care of by Lynn, our young daily help. And so the general atmosphere in our home began to improve.

A few weeks later Lucy let it slip that she had hired a new agent-a guy named Barry was now doing my old job. I was annoyed to say the least, here I was out of work and my own wife had hired some young upstart to do my job, when I confronted her she looked away embarrassed.

"I'm sorry John. I really wanted to give you the job You were the first person I thought of, but Stephen didn't want me to, he thought it would be wrong for me to employ my own husband, that we could leave ourselves open to some kind of prejudicial lawsuit, " she explained.

I had to think for a minute who Stephen was, then it occurred to me, he was the CEO and owner of the firm. In all the time I was there I had never even met him, and here was Lucy on first name terms.

"Christ Luce, I'm breaking my ass trying to find a job and my own wife won't even hire me. Instead some slimy bastard gets my position, well thanks for all your help Luce you did really great," I complained and turned away to stare out of the window.

"Fuck you John. Its not my fault you lost your job, do you want me to risk my career and the only money we have coming in just because you think you're better than everyone else?" it was one of the very few times I had heard Lucy swear.

I turned to carry on the argument but I saw Lucy's bottom lip quiver and a tear rolled down her cheek. I knew I had gone too far. I was a shit. I shouldn't have taken it out on Lucy, I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her and kissed the tears away.

"I'm sorry Luce, I shouldn't blame you. I just get so frustrated, it seems that every job I apply for they find a reason not to employ me. Perhaps I'm being paranoid, but it is as if somebody is blocking me at every turn."

"I'm sorry too hon. Maybe I should have stood up for you more than I did, look, let me speak to some people, see if we can work something out," she said and we kissed some more. I felt an even bigger shit pressurising my innocent wife into fighting my battles for me.

A few days later Lucy had some news for me; she had kept her word, though what she told me didn't fill me with joy, I still managed to put on a brave face.

"I spoke to Barbara in admin today and together we managed to create a new position. Now its not executive, in fact its quite the opposite but it's a job," she informed me, trying to sound upbeat.

"Just tell me Luce, the way things are at the moment I'd do anything if I was paid," I said. 

" Well.... Pam needs someone in the cave to administer files. I'm afraid its only minimum wage but its all we could do at the moment, and it will be a foot in the door for you, which is good isn't it? I know its not really what you want but ...,"she trailed off and shrugged.

I did my best to hide my disappointment. The cave was an airless basement full to the brim with old dusty records and files and I knew this job would be mindless boredom; sorting and classifying. It was the lowest position I could imagine but I had to pretend to be excited for Lucy's sake.

Muzak was playing. Wine glasses clinked and the polite conversation was interspersed with bursts of laughter. Newman holdings were celebrating another successful year. Lucy looked stunning in a silver grey satin dress and John missed no opportunity running his hands over her sexy body; especially as she had confided in him that she was going commando this evening. They had just finished dancing when one of Johns associates interrupted them; he said he needed John to go over an account with him.

"Christ Bill! it's a party can't you relax for a minute," John complained.

"I'm sorry John. but this is really important or I wouldn't bother you," Bill explained.

John turned to Lucy and shrugged "I'm so sorry Luce its..."

"Its okay, I understand," she interrupted him "you go off. I'm sure I can find another man somewhere here," she teased him.

Lucy was alone for Less than two minutes when she heard a voice behind her.

"Hello Lucy. I thought you would be surrounded by admirers?"

"No just the same old men wanting to get into my knickers," she replied sarcastically.

"Touché Lucy. perhaps I should have been a bit more subtle."

Lucy turned toward the speaker and saw Stephen Newman; her boss "I'm sorry sir I didn't realise it was you," she could feel herself blushing in embarrassment.

"No need to apologise Lucy. And please call me Stephen. I just wanted to meet the most beautiful woman here," he said smiling. he didn't appear to be upset with Lucy's rudeness.

"I'm not sure your wife would be pleased to hear that," she replied.

"My wife! Oh I'm not married. I suppose you could say the firm is my wife," he said.

"It must be a very boring marriage," Lucy remarked. She was feeling a little more comfortable now.

"On the contrary; I think I have everything I want, " Stephen said.

"Everything?" Lucy asked, raising an eyebrow and wondering where this conversation was going.

"Oh yes everything; money, power, respect. Everything," he answered.

"What about love? surely every marriage should be based on love," Lucy argued.

"Oh love is just a word to describe the things you really want," Stephen said.

"And what is it you really want Stephen?" Lucy felt they were coming to the point of this discussion now.

"Why, I want you my dear," he declared with a smile.

" And you think you can just have me?" Lucy asked. She put some steel in her voice. Stephen may be her boss but that didn't give him the right to just take her for granted.

"Oh no forgive me Lucy, please?" Stephen said quickly. "You misunderstand me. It's not what you think. What I would like is your help with an experiment, an experiment that could give you a life of luxury you've only ever dreamed of." as he spoke he moved in closer to Lucy. She looked around, feeling guilty allowing Stephen this close. She could see John talking to somebody on the other side of the room. She wanted to join him. Stephen was now making her uncomfortable. But despite herself she was also intrigued. "What kind of experiment?" she couldn't resist asking.

"Oh nothing illegal or dangerous I can assure you," he said waving his hand. "Why don't I explain?...you see, to me the most erotic thing in life is power, with power we can get anything we want. I could have just about any woman at this party, or ruin them because I hold power over them or someone close to them. But to use your power that way is base and brutal. I much prefer a bit more guile, I find it better if the other person thinks he is willingly giving to you, while you take everything you want".

Lucy now looked questionably at her boss "I'm sorry Stephen you've lost me," she said. 

Stephen paused to gather his thoughts "Okay," he said "Just imagine we take one these high flyers and between us we reduce him to a complete and utter slave, living only to please you. And we do it all without him even realising what's happening. Now that would be power don't you think?"

"And who would this poor unfortunate be?" Lucy asked. She was beginning to suspect that Stephen set up this whole meeting.

Stephen took Lucy's elbow and gently guided her around to face the crowd. He made a point of looking around the room "let me see, umm...how about?" he slowly moved his arm in an arc pointing his finger "that one," he said.

Lucy laughed aloud. Stephen was pointing at John "very funny Stephen. I think you know who he is and I think you orchestrated this whole conversation. perhaps that's what you mean by power. now if you will excuse me I think my husband is looking for me".

Two days later Lucy was at her desk when she received an email summoning her to Stephens office. She immediately feared for her job. She rode the elevator to the forth floor and found herself standing outside of Stephen's office. Her hand was shaking as she knocked on the oak door.

"come"

Lucy walked into an office bigger than her old apartment. Stephen sat smiling behind an enormous oak desk. he waved Lucy to a chair opposite him.

"Well hello Lucy, how are you?" he greeted her. He stood and gestured to a pot of coffee to one side of the desk.

"No, I'm fine thank you," she answered as she sat, pulling the hem of her skirt down to a respectable length.

Stephen sat back down and leaned back looking at Lucy over his hands which were clasped together below his chin "I wondered if you had given any thought to our little conversation from the other evening?" he asked.

In truth Lucy had thought of little else, but would never let him know that. Neither had she said anything to John, fearing he might loose his temper. instead she answered "well I honestly thought it was a joke. do you really expect me to help you turn my husband into your slave?" she sounded incredulous.

Stephen spread his hands "No no no my dear you really misunderstand me. Not my slave, John will be your slave. I get my rewards in other ways," he told her 

Lucy felt slightly better now, she knew she wasn't to be fired. She was also intrigued but didn't want Stephen to know to what extent. She studied her fingernails feigning a lack of interest "no I can't say it really tempts me Stephen, but," she raised her head to look at him "lets just pretend it did. how exactly would you plan to achieve your aims?".

Stephen leaned back and made a steeple shape with his fingers. He smiled. He had baited her; now he felt she was hooked.

"Ah well, Let me explain...first of all, together we would sabotage Johns accounts, not ruin them completely but just enough to jeopardize some of them, undermine him-have him doubt his ability. Then I will ensure that he looses his job".

Lucy looked up sharply and began to voice her objection.

"Wait. Please wait Let me finish," Stephen held up a placating hand, "as I said, John would lose his job. But you would, of coarse be promoted, to...lets see...office manager, with a raise of ....um....shall we say two hundred percent to compensate any financial shortfall on your behalf".

Lucy was stunned. It was an enormous raise, she began to feel flushed.

Stephen continued "Of course, you would need to keep your finances a secret from John, and at the same time it would be up to you to ensure that all of his own money is spent. You must make him penniless, make him financially dependent on you," Stephen stood and began walking around the room. He stopped and looked intently ay Lucy. "Between us we must also block any attempt by John to find a job, I'll give him bad references, maybe drop a quiet word in the ear of prospective employers, that sort of thing. Then as he isn't working, you persuade him to use his time by performing more domestic chores. Get him used to menial work, but make sure you always find fault with his efforts and have him accept your authority. That way he'll become unsure of himself and in time he should start obeying your commands. Make him feel useless and inferior. That's the way" he thumped one hand into the other to emphasise his point "Then perhaps when he's really desperate I'll rehire him. Not in an executive position you understand but as a cleaner or something equally demeaning." he returned to his chair and poured himself another cup of coffee. Lucy shook her head no, not trusting herself to speak when he offered the pot to her. "We'll keep him busy; you and I, Here and at home. With no money and no time he'll have no life of his own. You will need to find a way to deny him sex of course; frustration can turn the best of men into gibbering fools. For him, sex with you must be an honour and a privilege. Your satisfaction his only concern. Then finally, when he accepts you as his superior, his owner if you will, you'll have him sign over everything he has, his property, his money, if he has any left, his rights, his very life to you. Convince him he's worthless, that everything that has gone wrong; everything that has happened to him is his own fault, and pleasing you is all he has left. He needs to believe he exists only to serve you ".

Stephen spread his hands inviting a reply. It was some speech. Lucy was stunned, she was biting her bottom lip and squeezing her thighs together; she realised she was excited.

"Wow .....that's some plan, "she whispered .

Feeling flush she continued "I get a doting slave and an enormous raise, it all sounds great if it works but what exactly do you get?"

"I get you Lucy," again he held up a hand to forestall any protest "oh don't worry, I don't want to fuck you , no, all I want is those beautiful lips around my cock whenever I say. That's my turn on. It's the power you see, the power to have the most beautiful woman in the company on her knees, sucking the cock of a man who would normally repulse her".

Lucy was quiet as she considered her position, if she declined Stephens plan she had no doubt whatsoever John and she would be fired. She had spent her whole life getting just what she wanted; because she had learnt never to ask for too much. Thus she had always been a success, and loosing her job would be a failure, a devastating failure, something she didn't think she could live with.

But if she accepted she would have a husband whom she loved dearly as a slave to serve her anyway she wanted, plus money to keep her secure for life. All she had to do was agree to become this mans personal whore. She studied Stephen, he was approaching sixty years old, and although he had clearly taken care of himself he still showed his age. He wasn't ugly but not handsome either. Lucy could never find him attractive or desire him, but she knew she had to make a choice.

She loved John so much. But surely him being a slave to her was more preferable than failure. Besides, accepting Stephens proposition might buy her time to think of an way out of this. 

Terrified of the alternative, She rose from her seat and walked slowly around Stephen's desk, she held out her hand to him" it's a deal," she said. 

Stephen took her hand with a triumphant smile and pulled her down and toward him.

Lucy guessed what he wanted: a sample of his payment.

She sank slowly to her knees and with trembling fingers she undid his pants releasing his penis, he was already erect. Lucy felt disgusted with him and herself, but was determined not to let it show. She was unsure whether to use her hand first or just take him in her mouth, she was not really that experienced at oral sex. She was saved from making the decision when Stephen spoke.




Tough Love



"I want to see your breasts," he said. He spoke decisively and Lucy knew it was an order and that she had to obey.

She knelt back upright, staring at nothing, she undid the buttons and removed her shirt, she reached behind her and released her bra and let it slide off her arms. She automatically covered herself with her hands. Stephen stared at her, silently waiting until at last she lowered her hands exposing her breasts. On her slim frame her thirty six C cup breasts looked bigger than they really were. Stephen was fascinated by them and spent quite some time feeling and caressing them. Lucy had her head flung back and eyes closed. She wanted Stephen to believe she was enjoying it. Suddenly she realised her hand had slid down between her legs and she knew she really was enjoying it.

Stephen pinched her right nipple painfully with his left hand, he smiled as Lucy tensed in pain, with his right hand he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her face toward his crotch. Lucy had never really enjoyed giving oral sex to her husband John, although she would do it occasionally if she was feeling really sexy. Now she steeled herself and opened her mouth as Stephen's penis seemed to rise up to meet her. Her lips slid over the head stretching her jaws, her mouth glided down the thick shaft.

She fought back her gag reflex and forced herself to suck and lick as Stephen's hand controlled the bobbing of her head, soon he began to groan in pleasure. He pinched and twisted her nipple and Lucy felt his penis grow and pulse in her mouth, then his sperm was pumping into her throat.

Stephen held her head hard against himself and she was forced to swallow it all.

At last it was over. But Lucy knew this was just the first of many times she would be drinking Stephens sperm.

She stood up and docilely allowed Stephen to dress her, he withheld her bra saying "I would prefer from now on that you wear stockings an went bra-less".

Lucy instinctively knew it wasn't a request and nodded in acceptance.

"Yes sir," she answered looking at the floor.

On the first day of my new job I woke before Lucy and prepared breakfast. Then we set off to work together like old times, though now Lucy was the boss and I was the subordinate.

I took up my position in my "office", it was no more than a store cupboard really, below ground with no windows and very stuffy and dusty. I spent the first couple hours cleaning and organising my work place. The work was boring, as I'd expected and I looked forward to the occasions when I was required to run errands, at least then I came into contact with other people and sometimes, Lucy would need me to fetch an old file for her and I felt so happy just to see her. 

On the second day in my new job I entered her office with a document she needed. I smiled and said "here you go Luce ".

She looked up from her work and spoke "Ah John, I'm glad you're here, I need a word," she removed her reading glasses then continued " I really don't think you should call me by name at work, it shows a lack of respect," she said it so bluntly, as though she were talking to an underling, which strictly speaking I was, but I was also her husband after all.

"What!!! I'm your husband, how can I not use your name?" I felt shocked and insulted.

Lucy shrugged and clasped her hands as if in prayer.

"I'm really sorry John, its not me, this comes from above. They feel it undermines my position especially in front of clients," she explained.

"Okay Luce, just what am I supposed to call you," I snapped sarcastically.

" Oh John, please don't get huffy" she sounded sorry and I immediately felt bad "I'm only passing on orders. Look, while we're at work why don't you address me just the same as everybody else does. You know, Ms Lester or ma,am, that should keep everybody happy I think".

Everybody but me I thought. I wasn't happy but I knew Lucy was cornered so I shrugged, defeated.

"Okay then, ma,am it is".

The days passed, things at work got no more interesting. Then two weeks later I looked up from my work bench to see Amy: Lucy's assistant, holding a file out to me.

"Hello John, I need this sorted if you would," she said handing me the file. I took the file and quickly looked at it to see where it should be stored. I turned back to find Amy was still there, she had a wicked grin on her face. She was twenty seven years old, slim and pretty, with shoulder length brown hair. We always got on very well together and playfully flirted with one another and today was no exception, but soon I realised it was getting a bit too serious as Amy pressed up against me, trapping me against my bench, her lips were sucking on my neck.

"Whoa Amy. I think we need to calm down a little," I said, trying to extract myself from her questing hands.

"Oh come on John," her breath was hot in my ear "you know I've always wanted you and I think you fancy me. You were my boss then, but not now, so it'll be alright. Please? just once, nobody will ever know," she said as she started to undo my belt.

"No, I'm sorry Amy but I love Lucy. I really think you should go," I tried so hard to be firm with her. But it just seemed to make her more determined.

"No, not until you fuck me," she demanded, she pushed me hard back against the bench, she was much stronger than I had thought.

Before I could squirm out of her clutches she had her hand down my pants and grinned in triumph when she found I was already hard. She kissed me. Her tongue pushed into my mouth and, I'm ashamed to admit, my resistance so easily dissolved. I spun around with her in my arms, kissing, and pushed her up against the work bench. She turned around, her back to me and bent over. Reaching back she pulled down her panties.

"Fuck me John, just fuck me," she gasped as she lay over the bench.

I was beyond caring. I unzipped my pants and freed my erect penis. I drove myself into her roughly, at the same time reaching out to hold her breasts, using them to pull her onto me. The sex was rough and there was no tenderness; it was just lust for both of us and lasted only a few minutes. I pushed into her as hard as I could and held my position deep inside her as I climaxed, then I collapsed onto her back. We both laid there quite still, sweaty and breathing hard.

When we regained our composure, Amy stood up. She kissed my lips passionately.

"Thank you John, I've always wanted to do that. Maybe we can do it again sometime," she whispered close to my ear.

She stepped back and smiled at me. She then pressed her discarded panties into my hand.

She blew me a kiss and with a wave, she left.

"Come in," Lucy responded to the knock at her office door.

Amy entered, Lucy looked over the top of her glasses at her.

"Ah Amy ....well how did it go?" she asked eagerly when she saw her assistant.

Amy closed the door behind her and leaned back against the portal, she smiled widely.

"Perfectly, I did just as you told me," she reported.

Lucy smiled back at her and nodded. She relaxed into her chair.

"Good, good, now, I want you to take an hour and run an errand for me," she picked a sheet of paper from the top of the desk "I need you to go to this address and pick up a package. Here's my card, you know the pin number".

Lucy handed over her card and the slip of paper. Amy read the address. 

"Oh my gosh, it's an adult store!" she exclaimed.

"Yes well ....just get on with it. I have a call to make," Lucy said, she waved Amy away feeling embarrassed. She reached for the phone. Amy knew she was dismissed and so turned and left.

"Hello Stephen, its Lucy. I need authority from you to collect a security tape, it concerns our little project," she said into the phone.

Stephen chuckled and answered "Of course my dear, you can have anything you want. Just collect it and tell them to call me for clearance. Oh by the way, I'll need you in my office at three this afternoon to go over your oral presentation again, and see that you bring the tape with you. It could be something that I might want to see."

Part two

Chastity

I sat at my bench in my "office" trying to beat the boredom, the phone rang: it was Amy. She told me to report to Lucy's office. I hurried up the stairs excitedly; looking forward to seeing my wife. I knocked and entered her office with a smile on my face. This soon changed when I saw her stern expression.

"You wanted me ma,am?" I asked.

"Yes John, I do. I want you to see something," she answered coldly. Something was obviously wrong. I stood and watched as Lucy picked up a remote control from her desk and pressed a button. The TV screen to one side of the room came to life. I recognised the scene immediately and groaned in dismay. The camera had recorded perfectly, every second of my adultery. I wondered briefly how I had missed the camera in my room.

"Well?" Lucy asked.

"Its not what it looks like Luce," I regretted the words straight away. What the hell else could it look like?

"I've tried my best, I've gone out on a limb for you, risked my career, and this is how you repay me," she said.

"Lucy ...I'm sorry, I really am. Please believe me it was just this once; it will never happen again. I promise you, please, it meant nothing. Luce, " I pleaded with her knowing I had no defence.

"Don't call me Luce, only my husband calls me Luce. And I can't think of you as my husband at the moment," she said angrily.

"I don't know what to say, how to make you believe me. I love you, I'll do anything for you, anything you want, please just give me a chance, please Lucy....ma,am?" I was so desperate and I meant every word that I said.

"This is a sacking offence you know, I should have you both fired, and for the life of me I don't know why I don't," she stood and walked over to switch the T.V. off " I've managed to keep it quiet, not for your sake but mine. I've never felt so humiliated in my life. I'm going to deal with this myself. If you can't control your dick maybe I can... here, catch," Lucy picked up a box from her desk and threw it at me, hard. I caught it at the second attempt.

I turned the box over in my hands to read the label.

"You can't be serious lu...ma,am. you can't expect me wear this?".

"I've never been more serious in my life. You can either put that on now or you can leave this office and our marriage. Then wait to hear from my lawyer".

She was angry, but then she appeared to slump and when she spoke again her tone was full of hurt. 

"I love you John. But you've hurt me, you hurt me badly. I really don't know if I can ever trust you now. I need to know you are being true to me".

"But this! this is madness, where the hell did you get it from?" I held up the box, I was hoping it was all a joke.

"Where it came from doesn't matter, what matters is you wearing it to prove your love for me," she had regained her composure now and I could see she was set. I could see no advantage in resisting. I knew I'd better play along and hope we could work our way through this.

"Okay Luce you win. I will wear it. I'll wear it because I love you and I'll prove it "

I opened the box to remove the male chastity device within and read the instructions.

I stared at her, trying to show some pride as I dropped my pants. Then holding my penis with one hand I eased the chrome mesh tube over and down the length of my flaccid prick. An adjustable chrome band then looped around the base and under my balls. Following the instructions, I carefully adjusted the band to a snug fit where it locked in place. The cage was not too tight and about an inch longer than my limp penis. But I realised that as soon as I achieved an erection it would be so tight as to be agony. 

"Give me the keys," Lucy demanded holding out her hand. I shuffled over to her with my pants around my ankles. Lucy had seen me naked hundreds of times, but I had never felt so embarrassed as I did at that moment.

"I shall be working late today so I'll need the car. You'll take the bus home and you can sleep in the spare room tonight," she said as she dropped the small chrome keys into her bag, she indicated that the discussion was over by turning her back to me.

I could think of nothing else to say, so I pulled my up pants and left.

"Amy can you come in here please?"

Amy responded to Lucy's summons and entered her office. She waited for her boss to speak.

"I've fitted my husband with a chastity device which he'll wear for the foreseeable future," Lucy said plainly, looking out of the window. "Now, the question is, what are we going to do about you? " she added.

"But I only did what you told me to do," Amy objected. Lucy spun around to face the younger woman.

"Do you think that excuses you of fucking my husband. Remove your panties now," Lucy ordered.

"I don't have any on. I gave them to John like you said, remember?" the younger girl answered sarcastically.

Lucy strode quickly around her desk and slapped Amy's face hard.

Amy staggered back holding her cheek, she could feel her eyes welling up.

"Don't you fucking dare talk back to me you little slut. I'll beat the living shit out of you," Lucy threatened, "Now, put this on," she added passing the crying girl a package which she had picked up from the desk.

Amy saw immediately that it was a chastity belt, and through her tears she looked at Lucy and pleaded.

"I'm sorry ma,am, I did my best, please, what about my boyfriend?".

"Fuck your boyfriend, or then again you won't be able to, will you?" Lucy laughed at her own pathetic joke.

Amy knew she wouldn't win this argument. Lucy's demeanour left her little choice. So she lifted her skirt and began to attach the belt. Lucy watched with a lascivious smile on her face knowing how excited it made Amy to be dominated this way.

"I'll hold the key to that," Lucy said , holding out her hand, "I'll have control of that hot little pussy of yours. It might be interesting to see how long it takes you to beg me for some release," Lucy smiled evilly. It was such a turn on: she controlled not only her husbands, but little Amy's sex life as well. 

She thought back, she was so reluctant to take part in Stephen's plan at first. She still wasn't happy about treating John so badly, but he made it so easy, "why wouldn't he fight back?" she wondered. Now, because she had tasted power over him, and not to mention Amy, she found she was feeling as horny as hell. Suddenly she had a wicked idea. She licked her lips and slyly pressed her crotch against the edge of the desk.

"Actually, you could start working your way into my good books right now if you want?" she said teasingly.

Amy was crying softly as she looked at her tormenter.

"H..how?" she asked through her tears.

Lucy sat down in her chair and swivelled round to face her victim. She parted her legs slightly and slid the bottom of her skirt up her thighs revealing her stocking tops.

"Why don't you get on your hands and knees and crawl over here, maybe you can show me what you can do".

Amy sank slowly to her knees. She knew exactly what Lucy wanted and she knew just how to do it. She felt light headed as she crawled across the room. She had been made to act the slut with John, then locked into a chastity belt, now she was about to eat her bosses pussy. She could feel her heart beating in her chest. As she reached Lucy she could see she had already removed her panties, her swollen labia glistened beneath the wisps of pubic hair. Amy leaned forward and kissed Lucy's nylon clad knees and slowly kissed her way up the inside of her thighs. Just an inch from Lucy's pussy lips Amy breathed deeply and groaned, "oh god this is heaven," she thought, not so much what she was doing but the simple fact that she was being dominated. It was almost enough to give her an orgasm there and then.

Lucy gasped as Amy kissed her thighs. She pulled her skirt higher and spread her legs apart. With one hand cupping her breast she stroked Amy's hair with the other, she gasped again and tensed when Amy's tongue made contact with her pussy, "shit! this girl was good!" she thought.

Lucy had surprised herself: she had never before had any lesbian feelings. She was sure could never bring herself to lick another woman like Amy was doing. But she could see nothing wrong with having a woman between her legs, it didn't matter whose tongue was inside her, as long as she was getting the benefit. She was feeling high on power, punishing John and having Amy debase herself for her pleasure was having an unexpected effect on her. Stephen was right: power was the ultimate turn on.

Lucy had slid down on her chair, her legs were wide apart, she had one foot hooked around Amy's back. The girls face was buried deep into Lucy's crotch. She licked and sucked greedily. Lucy had already had one orgasm and now approached her second. Her blouse was open as she kneaded her braless breasts, she clamped her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, she squeezed and pulled as hard as she could bear as her climax overwhelmed her. She pulled Amy's head hard into herself, then as her orgasm subsided she felt the licking become uncomfortable. She pushed Amy away and sagged back into her seat panting.

Amy sat back on her ankles and watched Lucy's wet pussy pulse. Lucy sighed contentedly, "just wait until Stephen heard about this" she thought, "but then again why should he, perhaps this will my secret pleasure," smiling to herself she sat up and gestured for Amy to rise.

"I believe you have work to do," she said and turned to her desk.

Amy knew she was dismissed and silently left the office feeling oh so horny and frustrated.

As I sat at my bench I considered my situation. I asked myself what the hell had just happened? I arrived at work this morning as usual. Now less than five hours later I was an adulterer locked in a stupid chastity belt, my marriage threatened.

But then I realised it wasn't just today. My life seemed to have gone from bad to worse ever since I had lost my job. Every week something new seemed to happen to push me deeper into the shit and I didn't have any idea what I could do to stop it.

My only constant, I realised, was Lucy. She had never stopped supporting me, she was always there when I needed her, and how had I rewarded her? by fucking the first woman who came along.

She was right not to trust me. I deserved to wear the chastity belt. I was the one in the wrong. I had to make it up to her somehow, to prove my love for her. I decided that's where I would start. I would make it my top priority. I would be the perfect, the most loyal and attentive husband. Nothing would be too much for her, she deserved only the best. After all, I had gotten myself into this mess, Lucy was just an innocent victim being pulled down with me, wasn't she?.

For the following week things slowly improved between us. The first couple of days the atmosphere was very frosty, but I made sure I did everything I could to please her. One evening I fetched her a glass of wine and sat opposite her and tried to explain my feelings. I didn't ask her to forgive me or try to make excuses for myself. I told her it was all my fault and I would work as hard as I could to become worthy of her trust again, to be her husband again. I told her I would agree to whatever she wanted. I would even wear the chastity belt for as long as it took for her to believe I would not stray again." I love you Lucy, and only you. I don't want to lose you. You are everything to me and I'll do whatever it takes to keep us together," I really wanted her to know how hard I was trying.

But right on cue fate reared up and kicked me in the balls again.

I was at my work bench when Barbara knocked on the door frame, my room wasn't important enough to warrant an actual door.

"Hi John er ....I need to speak to you, do you have a minute?" she asked nervously.




Tough Love



"Oh hi Barb, yeah anytime," I'd always liked Barbara. She always seemed to have time for you and she never said anything bad about anybody. But something in her face today told me all wasn't right.

"Yes well, its just that... You see our budgets didn't work out quite as we expected and we need to lose some paid hours somewhere," she flapped her hands as she thought how to compose what she wanted to say "We really don't want to release anyone. But in order to save jobs we need to cut the hours of some non essential personnel and well its....," she dropped her hands to her sides, she didn't know how to say it, but she didn't really have to.

"Its okay Barb. I think I know what your trying to say: I'm one of the non essential staff, right?" I was already resigned, and slumped in my chair.

"I'm sorry John. I was given a list of personnel affected and instructions as to revised hours. I'm afraid you have been cut to three hours a day starting Monday. I'm really so sorry" ( she thought it best not to mention that John's was the only name on the list). She had tears in her eyes as she left and strangely I felt sorry for her despite me being the one loosing time and money.

I felt like just lying down and giving up. But then I thought of Lucy and all she had had to go through and I knew I had to be strong for her sake.

But wait a minute! Lucy! I would have to go see her, tell her what had happened. Maybe she could pull some strings for me?.

"Yes, I'd heard all about it. But not in time to warn you John. I did what I could, but you know, its not up to me," Lucy shrugged her shoulders as John stood before her desk. Then she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desktop.

"What's worrying me though, given your recent behaviour: is the fact that you'll be finishing work at noon. What are you going to be doing with yourself with all that spare time?" she raised an eyebrow at John. She didn't seem very concerned that he had had his hours cut. John felt disappointed by her attitude, but he knew the situation wasn't her fault and causing a scene wouldn't help him.

"I guess I'll carry on trying to find a better job. I swear ma,am, there's no way I'll do anything stupid like I did before," he promised.

"I do so want to believe you John, but you know what they say: bored hands lead to a bored mind," she said.

"I promise ma,am, I'll keep busy. Hey! how about I take over the cleaning and other stuff. We could even save money if we didn't have a housekeeper," John appeared pleased with his sudden idea.

Lucy had to turn away in thought as if she were considering his proposal. She didn't want John to see her smile. She had to stop herself laughing out loud. How lucky could she be? she had been trying to think of a way to persuade John to agree to her plan and here he was putting forward the very idea himself.

Her mind drifted back to just two days before.

Stephen twisted the clamp on Lucy's nipple, he was smiling cruelly as her eyes screwed up in pain. He had lately started playing sadistic little games with her. No longer satisfied in a simple blow job, he now liked to humiliate her or torture her breasts before she took him in her mouth. In truth it was never unbearably painful, so Lucy went along with it, though she knew she didn't really have a choice. As she worked at enslaving her husband, Stephen had ensured that she was becoming more subservient to him. She kept telling herself that it was only temporary, but she seemed to slip more and more under his spell. Then each time Stephen demanded something of her, Lucy would take it out on John or Amy. And she always felt so guilty afterwards, especially as she became more aroused the worse she treated them.

Now standing in front of her kneeling form, Stephen held onto the clamps crushing her nipples and used them to guide Lucy's mouth toward his erect penis. She opened her jaws automatically and took him deep into her throat, just how she knew he liked it, how he had trained her. Indeed with all the practice he was giving her recently they both thought she had become an expert cocksucker and he never missed an opportunity to tell her so, even addressing emails to her as "my number one cocksucking whore".

She had learnt to control her gag reflex as he forced his way deep into the back of her throat. He held her head in place with a handful of hair as he filled her mouth with hot cum. Lucy swallowed it all and then cleaned him with her mouth and tongue as he had taught her to do.

Stephen sat at his desk as he pushed his flaccid penis back into his pants. Lucy stood at the cocktail cabinet by the window overlooking the city. She poured two glasses of juice, passed one to Stephen, and naked apart from her four inch heels ,stockings and nipple clamps, she raised her glass to wash away the salty taste in her mouth.

"I have a couple of things I need," she said as she sat on the corner of his desk.

"You can have just about anything you want my dear," Stephen replied. Lucy knew he was always in a good mood after one of their sessions, still feeling aroused herself, she briefly wondered why he never wanted to have sex her, not that she'd want him to, but as usual Stephen had used her for only his own gratification, never even considering that Lucy might like to have an orgasm.

"Oh well, never mind," she thought. She could always use her fingers when she returned to her office, or maybe Amy's mouth or Johns. Yes, that would be good, John would think it an honour to lick her now, or even better she could summon Barry in to fuck her, then have John lick her used pussy, see whether he would realise he was swallowing her lovers cum. She felt herself tingle with the thought.

"So my dear, what is it you want?" Stephen pressed. Lucy jumped as she returned from her musings.

" Ah yes right, well, first I need to tell you that I recently started an affair with Barry Cooper, one of my agents. I know I don't have to ask your permission strictly speaking, but I thought because of our special relationship I should have your consent," she said.

"Yes you did the right thing. I have no reason to object to whoever you want to see but I don't like to be kept in the dark," he warned her, then added "so yes, you can have my consent, but you must remember, my needs and desires are your main priority. I shall still expect you to drop whatever you're doing whenever I summon you. You belong to me now and you must always remember that. Besides, making your husband a cuckold can only be seen as progress. Now was there anything else?" he raised his brows in question. Lucy thought he was going too far to say he owned her. But then she admitted to herself that she would likely do whatever he told her to do, so, yes, he probably did own her.

"Yes" she replied "I think its time for John to become more domesticated. I would like you to cut his time to three hours a day. That way he can be at home doing chores. I thought it might be interesting to have him under the supervision of our daily cleaner," she said

"Consider it done. By the way, how is my idea of the chastity tube working?" he asked as he idly tweaked Lucy's nipple.

"Oh, just perfect, he actually offered to wear it for as long as I want him to," she laughed, trying to hide the pain caused by his playing with her nipple clamps.

Lynn sat nervously waiting for Lucy to come home. Her employer had phoned her, Lucy wanted to speak to her. She was worried and hoped she wasn't going to lose her job. Although she was only a housekeeper, she liked her job, she liked John and Lucy too. This was the only job she had been able to find since leaving college two years previously, she really didn't like the idea of being unemployed again.

She stood up and clasped her hands in front of her as she heard Lucy's Lexus pull into the drive. When the front door opened, Lucy smiled and seeing the worried look on Lynn's face immediately tried to reassure her.

"Don't look so glum, I just need to discuss something important with you, please sit down, " Lucy said as she herself sat next to Lynn on the sofa.

"Now you may have noticed some changes occurring around here lately?" she added once she was settled.

"Yes, I knew John had lost his job but ....." Lynn started to speak, but didn't like to be too personal.

"Well yes, that's right, now though, it seems his hours are to be cut and I thought rather than sitting around all day he could take over your duties," Lucy explained. She saw Lynn's face drop and reached across the sofa, laying her hand on the girls knee to reassure her.

"Oh don't worry, I'm not letting you go, oh no. I need you here more than ever now. I'm merely changing your status. He's only a man after all, and what do men know about housework?" she chuckled "No, what I plan is for John to do your job while you supervise him. It will actually be a promotion for you. Of course it will mean I'll need to give you a raise but we can sort the details out later," Lucy said smiling as she patted Lynn's thigh.

"But I don't understand, Johns my boss. I don't see how I can supervise him," Lynn was puzzled.

"No Lynn. I am your boss now and starting from Monday, to all intents and purposes you will be John's boss," Lucy laid it out as plainly as she could.

Lynn still had her doubts "And John doesn't mind? I mean it all seems such a strange situation," she asked.

"Ah, well. John doesn't actually know yet ," Lucy told her " but you leave that to me, I'll make sure he sees sense. The thing is, our relationship is changing," she confided "since John lost his job, well, lets just say I have taken over the role as head of the household. I am after all the breadwinner now, and well, to tell you the truth I found out John cheated on me. So I need to know that he's kept too busy to do it again. And it would be useful for me to have someone I can trust keep an eye on him while I'm not here. And I want that someone to be you, So what do you say?" Lucy looked at her housekeeper hopefully.

Lynn was both stunned and flattered. She really wasn't sure how to answer "ummm, I don't know, it just seems so bizarre, what if John refuses to listen to me?".

"He won't, believe me," Lucy told her earnestly "after I've explained the situation to him he'll be as good as gold," she said gripping Lynn's knee.

Lucy gave Lynn one of her best smiles. Lynn nodded "Okay, why not, I'll give it a try".

"Splendid, now here's what we do............

"You must be joking. I don't mind doing the housework, but being told what to do by a twenty year old girl, in my own house no less, well .... its, its ridiculous," I was angry. We were standing in the kitchen. I had been cooking curry when Lucy broke the news of our new cleaning arrangements.

"Oh don't be so melodramatic John, its just an arrangement. It doesn't really mean anything. I am not going to fire Lynn when she has done nothing wrong, she's a damn good housekeeper. You on the other hand haven't a clue, even you must admit that? so it makes sense if you think about it. All you need to do is a few household chores and Lynn can show you the best way to do them. Surely you are not to proud to take instruction from a younger person. You used to boss people twice your age. Besides it was your idea to do the cleaning in the first place".

I felt chastened. I had indeed suggested the idea. So I was in no position to complain, but to be under the supervision of Lynn was just simply embarrassing. But as Lucy had said, it was only for basic instruction, so I decided I should bite the bullet and agree.

"Okay Lucy, I'll do it. But its only temporary right?".

"Of course. It'll only be for as long as I think you need someone in charge of you," she told me as she stroked my cheek.

I didn't like the phrase" in charge of" but I let it slide. Besides it had now been close to two weeks since Lucy had locked me into chastity and I hoped my compliance would lead to my release, even if it were only long enough to have sex with my gorgeous wife again.

On Monday I worked my three hours, then as Lucy would need her car, I caught the bus home. As I entered the house I found Lynn sitting in the kitchen writing on a note pad.

"Hi Lynn, I'm here, reporting for duty," I said, trying to make light of the situation.

"Oh hi John. Be with you in just a sec," she replied.

I nipped up to the spare room where I had been banished for the last several days to change my clothes. When I returned Lynn held out a sheet of paper to me. She looked embarrassed as she said "I've made a list of the jobs that need to be done today. Its best, I've found if you do them in that order, um...Lucy asked me to keep an eye on you to begin with, just until you know how to do things. Also she left me this" she appeared as unhappy with this situation as I was as she handed me another piece of paper.

"It's a list of jobs Lucy would like done while you are at home. But I think they need to wait till after the housework is finished, so.....lets start shall we," she said and began fetching the equipment I would need to begin my job as a domestic drudge.

I had to work hard and I was always aware and uncomfortable of Lynn watching me. I was determined not to make mistakes, but even so she was forced to instruct me on several occasions when I did something wrong or my efforts were not good enough. She was obviously nervous whenever she had to point out my faults and in a strange way I felt sorry for her. By five o'clock I was finally finished and I slumped tiredly into a chair with a well deserved beer.

"Okay, I'm off now John, I'll see you tomorrow. I shouldn't drink too much of that," she pointed at the bottle in my hand "Tuesdays are pretty hectic, bye," she waved and closed the door as she left.

I scowled at her back. She had just watched and criticised me all afternoon, and she hadn't lifted a finger to help, but I knew I was being petulant. Lynn had done this job almost every day for the last two years so who was I to complain?

I fished Lucy's list from my pocket and read it. There were lots of small jobs, fix this, hang that. I swigged the last of my beer and thought "the hell with it", if she wants the jobs done let her do them herself. But then after a few minutes I decided "what the hell, I might as well do something just to stop me being bored." I groaned as I levered myself out of the chair. But as I went to the garage to fetch my tools I knew deep down inside that I was scared of what Lucy might say if I didn't do as she said.

As the days passed I grew into the routine and became faster and more efficient at my work. At the same time Lynn became more confident in her new position. She seemed to find it increasingly easy to give me instructions and I felt she was actually enjoying having authority over me. More and more she would give me my schedule for the day then spend her time relaxing on the patio or watching TV, sometimes she would go shopping or visit friends, she even had friends visit her in my house and all the time I would be hard at work while Lynn acted as if she owned the place.

I took the decision to speak to Lucy about Lynn's lack of effort. Not realising that this would lead to even more humiliation and my first punishment.

But I would also receive a reward.

Part Three

Punished

I was forced to bide my time for a few days as Lucy had started to work late quite a lot. Also she was often away at meetings with clients, most times staying overnight or occasionally for the whole weekend, so she would invariably claim to be too tired or stressed to deal with my so called trivial problems. But then one Friday Lucy announced she would be home on time. I was determined to discuss my situation with her that evening..

Lucy arrived home and flopped into an armchair. I opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses, as I handed one to Lucy she kicked off her shoes and said "oh thank you darling, just what I need. Oh babe be a hon. would you and give my feet a massage".

I swallowed a mouthful of wine and knelt before her. I lifted her stocking covered feet onto my lap and begun to massage them accompanied by oohh,s and aah,s of relief from my wife.

"Luce, can we talk about a couple of things?" I asked as she lay her head on the back of the armchair. 

She looked down at me with curiosity but said nothing so I continued.

"First, its about Lynn," I said

"What about Lynn?" she asked .

"Well....its just..... I like Lynn, don't get me wrong, but I'm not sure about the current arrangement," I said hesitantly.

Lucy sighed "what's wrong John? come on spit it out ".

"Well ... I think she's taking advantage. I do all the work and she doesn't seem to do anything. Oh I know I agreed to do it all, that's not what I'm complaining about. She just spends her day lounging, watching TV or something. Sometimes she goes shopping or visits friends. She's even had friends around here! they seem to believe its her house and I'm the hired help. Lynn doesn't correct them, she just acts like the lady of the house. She even serves them our wine and food. And then at the end of the day she'll tour the house inspecting my work. I really do wonder if we need her. I know I sound like I'm moaning but I really think she's taking advantage of your good nature," I took a breath, I had said my bit. Lucy sat up, she leaned toward me and told me. 

"I can see your point John. But the thing is, Lynn and I have already spoken about this very problem. The poor girl confided in me: she only acts like that because she feels uncomfortable with supervising you. And I can understand what she means. Because she has no real authority she finds it hard to instruct you, but acting like she does actually shows authority if you think about it. People in authority should take advantage of their position. Therefore I think we only need to tweak the situation a bit. Now ....as I've already said, I'm unwilling to let Lynn go so I think that from now on you should regard Lynn as your boss," Lucy held up her hand, palm facing me to ward off my protest and continued "its only for convenience John, but by giving Lynn this control I think things will run all the more smoothly. So in a nutshell, whenever Lynn and you are together, Lynn will be in command, and you should show her the respect due to her. If she wants you to do something, you should do it. If she wants to go out or entertain friends then that's her prerogative. None of this should really affect the way things are now, but at least it will clarify everybody's position. Oh and I think you should start by addressing her correctly. um......Miss Richards or maybe just Miss I think would be appropriate. Also I suggest you don't initiate conversation. Remember she is your superior, and should be treated as such. I'm sure if we all work together on this, things will run a lot smoother, don't you agree? there that's sorted. Now what was the second thing you wanted to talk about?"

I knelt on the floor stunned, completely speechless, what the blazers had just happened. I'm not completely sure I understood half of what Lucy had just said but I knew one thing: somehow I had just been relegated to the role of a servant in my own house, under the control of our former cleaner no less. And even worse, I couldn't find a single argument against it. I held Lucy's feet and stared into space with my mouth agape.

"Well? "Lucy said nudging me with her foot. I looked up at her.

"What...oh..um yes....I'm sorry....um its well.... Its this," I stuttered. I pointed with the fingers of both hands indicating my crotch, I couldn't think of what to say.

"Your manhood you mean?" Lucy asked with an amused look.

I nodded dumbly, I was still trying to comprehend all that had just been said.

"Well what about it?" she pressed.

I finally managed to find my voice "its this cage Lucy. I've had it on for weeks now. Please can you take it off. I swear I've learned my lesson, I won't do anything like that ever again. Please Lucy," I felt pathetic, like a whining child, but I was desperate.




Tough Love



Except for the physical descriptions of my husband and I, and the first two paragraphs, this story is 100% fictional. For those of you vocabulary-challenged, that means that after the first two paragraphs NOTHING in it is true!

______________ 

As anyone who's been around the block a couple of times knows, different people react differently to different handling. For example, some football (American style, not what we Yanks call "soccer") coaches are "friends" with their players, others are total assholes to the players always putting them down, some handle the players gently, and some show "tough love."

Although I've never played a down of football in my life, except Powder Puff – I'm a woman by the name of Cheryl Simms – I am a big fan and have studied football as a microcosm of how things work in the real world. I actually wrote a paper on it in college in the only course ever taught by the Head Football Coach at our school, when I was the only female in the course. To me, the coaches that exhibit "tough love" almost universally get the best out of their players. That was the thesis of my college paper, which got me an A+ and a hug from the Coach.

Despite my belief in football being a microcosm of real life, I never really applied its principles until a few years ago.

I got married at twenty two, right out of college, to my college flame, Brian Simms. He was tall, blond, handsome, and smart; he still is except that the blond is now more than half gray. 

Brian is an ass and legs man. That undoubtedly was what attracted him to me, although I like to think that once he was attracted to me that my personality, intelligence and character were the reasons he married me; but who knows?

Most objective observers would not consider me as good looking as Brian, although the majority of people would consider me better looking than average. My outstanding features – previously mentioned – are my ass and long slender, yet muscular, legs, primarily genetic but also sculpted by years of running, volleyball, tennis, and weight training. Just to set the scene, and not bragging, I have been told by dozens of guys – half of whom were actually sober – that I have world class legs and an "awesome" ass.

Despite our middle class backgrounds Brian and I have become financially well off – that is "rich." I believe the main reason is because we have a treasure trove of common sense, look people in the eye when talking to them, and universally deliver on our promises. Also, I can sell anything and Brian constantly comes up with new good-to-great ideas.

Brian and I lived in a shitty apartment, and drove a clunker, when we were first married to save money to start our own company, called "Cherub," which we did at twenty three. Our main entertainment was fucking each other's brains out, and our only other entertainment – if you could call it that – was working out together, since both were "free." We fucked every night and on Sunday, the only day we didn't work (at least not more than a few hours), we fucked virtually all day. Our libidos had always been high and we were always exceptionally compatible in bed, but those years brought us to new heights. 

With Brian's ideas and financial expertise, and my sales acumen and personality, Cherub quickly became successful. I continued to work for Cherub when our first child was born when I was twenty six, and stopped only after our second child was born when I was twenty eight, and we were sure that the major clients I had brought in were there to stay. I personally owned 50% of Cherub even after I stopped working there and Brian owned the other half.

I believe that our time working together caused Brian and I to bond more closely than most spouses – that and our sky-high sex life. Of course we still had our ups and downs, like any married couple with children, but all-in-all our marriage was very good to excellent. We even survived a short fling Brian had in our early thirties.

Having the shitload of common sense that I do I quickly noticed the signs in what I'm sure were the very early stages of Brian's affair. Never being the shy and retiring type I confronted him with it. I told him that if he lied to me – and I'd find out if he did – I'd kick his ass to the curb and he'd be lucky to see the kids every other weekend. I actually would not have followed through with my threat since I loved him too much and the kids needed him, but I was very convincing.

Brian came clean and did his penance wandering "the wilderness" of the local hotels for a month instead of staying in our marital bed. I forgave him with the admonition "two strikes and you're out," his first night back from "the wilderness." Then I rode him reverse cowgirl until he was begging for mercy, and licked his dick clean after he ejaculated into my pussy.

Since I wasn't in love with the bimbo that Brian had nailed a couple of times, and have a vengeful streak, she did not fare as well as Brian did. I could see why he was attracted to her since she was the only woman I had ever seen live that had an ass and legs comparable to mine – and much bigger tits. 

Unfortunately for the bimbo, she worked for a company whose biggest single customer was Cherub, so I saw to it that she was fired. Also, long before the days of easy identity theft using the Internet, some savvy bitch – I'll never say who – destroyed the bimbo's already precarious credit rating by getting a loan in her name and not repaying it until it was long overdue.

When the kids were in High School I went back to work, but not at Cherub, rather in an entirely different business; one dominated by men. While we certainly didn't need the money I needed the excitement of selling again. I was instantly successful and now despite our high rolling life style we could live on my earnings alone. Much more rewarding to me than the financial success, however, was what the job did for my ego. 

My male co-workers, customers, and suppliers, were constantly ogling my ass and thighs. I do believe that I helped the morale of the vast majority of males I came in contact with by wearing clothing, and striking poses, that did nothing to hide my assets. I was propositioned numerous times but deflected all of the offers in as pleasant a manner as possible; except for the one asshole employee of one of our customers who wouldn't take "no" for an answer and ended up with a bloody nose when he grabbed my ass. His boss liked me and the company I worked for more than the asshole employee. He was transferred to Timbuktu and we didn't lose a dime of business. 

Because of the reaction I was getting from the adult male population I was confused when Brian started losing his sex drive, at least as far as I was concerned, when our oldest kid went to college. He also stopped working out at the Health Club, which I did almost every day, and which he had been doing two or three times a week. By then the technology made it easy for a suspicious spouse with money to find out about extracurricular activities, so I set about to do that. I really did not see the same signs as when he had his short fling many years ago, but I wasn't taking any chances.

My technology, and even private investigator, exploration found no other female companionship. It appears that Brian was just plain working too hard and exercising too little. "Why" was a puzzle to me since we both could have quit working the next day and been set monetarily for three lifetimes. 

I had talk after talk with Brian over a two year period, and each time the result was the same – he swore that he'd try to cut back, and once the next project (then the next one, then the next one) was finished we'd be back to normal. The counseling I suggested was, according to him, "a waste of time that I don't have."

When our youngest child went to college things got worse. Our sex life was essentially non-existent, so vastly different than the rich sex life we had up until only a few years ago that it was really hard on me. I went to see a psychologist, a marriage counselor, and a psychiatrist, to see if I was the cause of the problem; all said I wasn't. As far as a possible solution was concerned, my discussions with my psychiatrist brought me back to my college thesis – "tough love" coaches are the most successful.

I never needed to apply "tough love" with my kids since a normal nurturing and parenting relationship worked out well for them and me. With the possible exception of my actions at the time of Brian's short fling I never applied "tough love" to our relationship either. My shrink and marriage counselor both said that it was needed now.

After numerous unsuccessful attempts to even get Brian to have a meaningful discussion, let alone go to see my shrink or marriage counselor, because he was setting up another (our fourth) office for Cherub in a city 800 miles away, I implemented my plan.

When Brian finally was home one Saturday morning and was talking about leaving within a couple of hours to go to work, I coaxed him to sit in the sturdiest chair in our house, a "decorative" all steel article of furniture, if you can believe that such a thing exists. He didn't notice the handcuffs on an arm and leg of the chair. While he was sipping a homemade Frappuccino I had made for him I snapped the other half of the cuffs into place before he knew what was going on.

"What the hell, Cheryl, why are one of my hands and one of my ankles handcuffed to this chair."

"You won't sit down and talk with me, so now I'm making you. After I've said my piece and shown you the documents I have I'll let you go – but not until then," I said with a stern tone.

"I have to get to the office soon..." he started to say when I interrupted.

"Shut the fuck up, Brian. I don't give a damn about the office. You'll listen or I'll leave you cuffed and gagged the entire day. Got it?" I screamed.

"OK, don't get your panties in a bunch," he meekly replied.

"Our married life is in the toilet. We haven't had sex in seventy two days, and it's not because I haven't tried," I growled. I had been keeping track of everything on a calendar, I wasn't making the seventy two days thing up.

"Yes we have," he responded, his eyes lighting up. "You gave me a blow job just a couple of weeks ago."

Holding up my calendar I barked "I gave you a blowjob thirteen days ago, and another one forty days ago, and you turned me down for three others in the last seventy two days. WE – that is both of us, or even just me – have not had sex in seventy two days. And who the hell ever heard of a guy turning down a blowjob, let alone three in two months?"

"Well, we're not kids anymore, we're forty six and over the hill sexually," he said trying to calm me down.

"Forty six is far from over the hill; for some people it is prime fucking age. We should be fucking at least twice a week, and having oral every time we fuck," I bellowed. "I need sex, Brian! I'm going crazy!"

"Well maybe I'm just not as attracted to you anymore," he said in anger, obviously as a defense mechanism. He realized it was a bad mistake as soon as it came out of his mouth, but it was too late.

"I'm glad you said that, Brian," I sneered, "because there are dozens of guys who are attracted to me. See this ass and these thighs?" I said, pulling off my skirt and panties and leaving me with only my high heels and a short top on. "Guys want these all the time – they're still as awesome as the day you first fucked me!"

He simply gulped and got wide-eyed.

"Here's the way it's going to play out, Brian. Here is a legal separation agreement, which I have already signed. Since both of our kids are eighteen or older, since their college and graduate school expenses are already covered by their trust funds, and since we both have shitloads of money, custody and asset division are not problems," I said. Then I got in his face – my bottom half still nude – and continued. "What this separation agreement says is that you have four months to cut back on work and agree to sex at least twice a week, or we get a divorce. The only reason I'm not simply filing now is because I still love you and really want to work it out. But I'm not a female eunuch and I can't go on like this."

"But, Cheryl..." he started to say.

"Shut the fuck up, Brian. Read the agreement!"

He started reading. It was very simple as separation agreements go, only two pages long, double spaced. For the separation, if it resulted in divorce, I wasn't making him buy out my half of Cherub's stock but I gave him the option to match any offer I had for it if I wanted to sell. Our assets besides Cherub stock would be split 50-50, and the kids could live with either one of us or split time, their choice. I had already rented another house a couple of miles away. Predictably, the most important parts were the ones he would have difficulty with.

Brian's eyes got wide and he started choking up when he got to the penultimate substantive paragraph. "What's this about either of us is free to pursue other sexual endeavors during the term of the separation?"

"You're a smart man, Brian – it means what it says," I sneered.

He looked even more disconsolate when he got to the last substantive paragraph, and the post-nuptial contract appended to the separation agreement. "How can I agree to a post-nuptial contract where my work hours are limited and where if we don't have sex at least twice a week consequences ensue. I'm trying to run a business!" he moaned, more than yelled.

"Learn to delegate, Brian. Get a real life. You could stop working tomorrow and we'd have more money than we really need for three lifetimes," I calmly but firmly said.

Once Brian sat back in the chair, deflated and his eyes back in his head, I uncuffed him.

"Brian, sign the separation agreement by tomorrow morning. I'm leaving for my new, rented, house now – so you can go to your precious work – but will come back tomorrow morning. If you have signed the separation agreement I will have it filed with the Court Monday, we'll split according to its terms for four months, and by then you can decide if you will agree to the post-nuptial contract. If you don't sign the separation agreement I'll file for divorce on irreconcilable differences next week."

Brian groaned "But Cheryl, what's with this sex thing? Aren't I attractive to you?"

"Yes, you are – even if I'm not to you," I said sarcastically. "But I'm not getting fucked by you, and I need to get laid badly. In four months you may decide that I am attractive to you again, and you'll get your life back and stop working so hard. Maybe if you get laid a few times during the separation by some bimbos your sex drive will return. If not, that's what divorce is for!"

With that I put my panties and skirt back on and walked out the front door, all my clothes and personal items having previously been transferred to my new house. Brian started to plead as I left but I just waved my hand without even looking back.

When I got back home the next, Sunday, morning, Brian wasn't there. The signed separation agreement was, however, along with this note. "Despite what you might think I do love you Cheryl, and I'm really going to try and change in the next four months."

Monday I had my attorney file the separation agreement, told my shrink that I had put the first phase of my "tough love" scenario into place, then went to see my best and oldest friend, Janet, aka "Amber Love."

"Amber," as I'll call her, was an important part of my plan. I really, really needed to get laid badly but there was no way I could deal sexually with any of the men that I came in contact with during work or our social gatherings. Also, I needed anyone I was to hook-up with screened and anonymous. 

Although Amber graduated cum laude from college with me she found within a few years as a corporate account manager and a messy divorce that the normal work world wasn't for her. She started working as a high end – meaning $800/hr. in 2013 dollars – call girl then started her own "firm." Few people she socialized with (including even Brian) knew this because she was very discrete; they thought that she was in pharmaceutical sales. I was aware of her profession almost from the start because she knew that I wouldn't judge her, and we were always best friends and honest with each other.

Amber had dozens of high class escorts of all ages who worked for her, as well as her own team of researchers. Everyone was employed by a Cayman Islands Corporation that Amber had set up, and had every indication of respectability, including paying taxes. The researchers got all background information on a prospective client, and the clients were required to have periodic STD testing at their expense. One reason for Amber's success, beside strict confidentiality and totally awesome escorts, was that condoms were not "required" as long as there was a negative STD screening within a week of the "date" and the escort was OK with that.

Amber told me at my earliest planning stages of my "tough love" separation that there were dozens of regular clients who would love to give me a roll in the hay, especially since I would NOT be charging them. 

I told Amber that for me to hook-up with someone I would have to be sure that they weren't presently married, that they had a negative STD screening within the past week, and that I would first meet them for dinner. "Nothing" might happen if there was anything "hinky," or if I needed a second meeting to be sure. To make certain that there could never be even a reasonable allegation of prostitution every "date" and I would split the dinner tab and any hotel tab. 

If the response I got was any indication, there are a lot of horny unmarried ass and thigh guys in our major metropolitan area. Amber had shown – not given – my bikini photos, which she had professionally taken, to a number of likely candidates. She showed me more than a dozen photos of guys who were salivating at the chance of nailing me. I was shocked that two were in their thirties, one in his twenties. The others were in their forties and fifties, probably average age forty five.

"Go for it!" Amber giggled as she saw me looking at the photo of a thirty four year old for the third time. "He's a nice guy. He'd have been married long ago but his problem is that he's got a commitment phobia; but that doesn't mean shit to you. I'd fuck him myself but I would have a hard time keeping order with my escorts if I did that."

I met "Chris" – I never learned his real name, and didn't care especially since I was known as "Sybil" – two days later, on a Friday night at an out-of-the-way restaurant. I was nervous as hell, but self-confident since I was wearing my most "intoxicating" ass-legs outfit.

After the first five or ten uncomfortable minutes, Chris and I found some mutual ground and got along great. He was funny and charming. He also made no attempt whatsoever to hide the fact that he loved my ass and thighs. When we danced after dinner and before desert he held me tight and rubbed my ass and thighs through my clothes. I was so fucking horny at that point that I didn't care who saw us. When we returned to the table for desert he stuck his hand under my dress, stroked my bare right thigh, then probed the camel toe of my soaking wet panties.

We didn't finish desert, went right next door to the four star hotel he had confidently already reserved a room at, and mauled each other in the elevator on the way up to his room on the 23rd floor.

Since I had gone without sex for so long, all he had to do was bring his tongue into contact with my bare, engorged clitoris to initiate my first orgasm. When he started fucking me with a very nice looking dick, about the same size as Brian's, I fucked back with passion I hadn't felt for at least six years. I pulsed my pussy muscles, wrapped my thighs around his waist, and bucked so hard that we almost flopped off the bed. By the time that we had fucked a second time, in the middle of the night, he could have done anything that he wanted to me and I would have let him.




Tough Love



That Friday night dinner turned into a weekend long fuck fest. We did go out of the hotel, and to the exercise room and swimming pool, for part of the time on Saturday and Sunday, and I drove back to my house to get some more clothes. But all Saturday night, and most of the day on Sunday, we fucked like minks on speed. When we dragged our asses out of bed Monday morning to go to work we were so sore that we couldn't even touch our private parts. I walked bowlegged the entire day, every once in a while having to go to the bathroom to wipe cum off my thigh because he had injected so much into me.

The Wednesday night dinner with a forty four year old didn't go anywhere because we didn't click, but the Friday night dinner with a forty three year old turned into an excellent one night stand. He fucked me hard and ejaculated into my pussy on three occasions before the next morning, and I climaxed at least six times.

Saturday's "date" was a nice change from the night before. The distinguished fifty one year old, alias "Max," was a true gentleman, very charming and actually made love to me. Gentle, long-lasting love, a sharp contrast to the hard fucking I got the night before. I liked both approaches, maybe the hard fucking a little better because I got my vagina scrubbed three times instead of just once (though with some nice oral) from the gentle Max.

I was averaging three dates a week and almost every one was turning into sex. I found out that the guys liked my pussy as much as my ass and thighs. Amber told me that a lot of the guys were asking for repeats, and I was eventually going to oblige them – especially Chris – but I wanted to experiment some more before recycling them. The second to last guy set me back a little on my schedule, though.

The second of the thirty year olds, alias Buster, was a guy no taller than I was and maybe only ten-fifteen pounds heavier. He had a slim body, more like a swimmer's build. He had a "Clark Kent" look to him, but based upon Amber's giggles when she set me up with him I thought he might change into Superman.

I've often heard that there is no such thing as a dick that is "too big." Not so! Buster had the biggest cock I'd ever seen, which looked even bigger in contrast to his relatively lithe frame. It was not only long but thick. At first I was excited, and wanted that thing up my cunt as quickly as possible. Buster knew from experience that I needed to slow down.

We sixty-nined for a while. As I was sucking his thick prick, almost too big around to fit in my mouth, and fondling his heavy balls, I started to wonder if it really would fit. 

When I started getting frantic and begged to be probed he turned me on my back, got out some lube – which I thought strange considering how wet my pussy was – and then slowly started to penetrate. It took five minutes before he was balls deep, and by then I was surprised he ever could get balls deep. It hurt as much as it pleasured when he started slowly pumping. If he had ever started jack hammering I probably would have passed out from the pain, but he kept up a slow steady pace until he filled me with so much cream that I thought for sure that it would overflow even with my pussy lips tightly sealing his cock in my cunt.

There was no way that I could let Buster fuck me a second time. I did, however, give him a blowjob which he – based on his groans and what he said afterward – really loved, and which I found interesting since his cum seemed to shoot straight into my stomach, without ever touching my esophagus. 

I actually had to cancel my date the next night because my pussy was too sore from one fuck with that monster cock (I would NOT be seeing Buster again). That really disappointed me because the next date was with the twenty eight year old, alias Luke.

I made it up to Luke as soon as my pussy recovered, about three days later. I paid for dinner and the hotel. With the exception of Max, Luke was the most polite of the guys I had dated – that is until we got into the hotel room, where he turned into an animal. He didn't do anything violent or gross, but he was hyper, loved to talk dirty (something I wasn't particularly fond of), and had unbelievable stamina. He fucked me three times that night, and the third fuck had to have lasted half an hour. During the third fuck alone I had half a dozen orgasms since he not only was moving his dick in an erotic manner, but he tickled my clit, pinched my nipples, and stuck fingers in my ass, at one time or another, each activity triggering another orgasm.

After the first six weeks of my separation from Brian my sexual cravings had been satisfied. On the second round with some of my fuck buddies I took it a little easier. There were no more three fuck nights, or another long weekend like the one with Chris. I started to nostalgically think back about Brian and how much fun our sex life had been.

________________ 

The main goal of the separation was to snap Brian out of his sexual malaise, and for that to happen I was sure that he needed to get laid. From the reports of the P. I. that I still had observing him, while at least he was taking time to exercise he wasn't seeing anyone. Amber helped me with that.

One of Amber's twenty-something escorts, stage name "Amy," looked a lot like the bimbo Brian had the affair with. According to Amber, Amy was irresistible if she talked to a guy. I met with Amy; Amber was right. With her looks, sultry voice, and the sexy way that she handled herself, no hetero guy could possibly deny her anything. 

Amy was cool with accepting my assurance that Brian had no STDs, and was willing to take a flat fee of $1000 per encounter regardless of the amount of time. Amber waived her normal cut. I paid Amy in cash and didn't run it through Amber's books.

Amber, Amy and I hatched a great plan. I knew that Brian was in town one Thursday and when by remotely monitoring our front door alarm I found out that he was home I called Amy's cell. She knocked on Brian's door a half hour later with a sad story about her car conking out on her, and her cell phone dead – even getting Brian to play with it to confirm it. She left three hours later, her car miraculously "healed."

Amy reported to me four encounters with Brian before the start of the fourth month of our separation. In the first one she said that the sex was mediocre, the second good, the third very good, and the fourth fabulous. She left him happy each time. Both the third and fourth times he fucked her twice and called out my name each time. She never corrected him. He cut off further contact after the fourth encounter telling her that he was going to make a big effort to get back with his wife.

Three weeks into the third month of our separation, especially after the reports from Amy, I started to really hope that Brian could get aroused for me again. As wonderful as the sex had been for me during the separation it was almost all physical, with no emotional component. Also, only with Chris and Luke was the sex physically better than with Brian even up to six years ago, and overall, because I loved him, the sex with Brian was better than with any fuck buddy.

At the start of the first week of the fourth month of my legal separation Amber called me and said that "Max" had moved to a city 1500 miles away, taking a new job, but that he desperately wanted to come to town specifically to see me again. He had been so nice, was willing to travel 1500 miles, and the only one to make love to me, so I agreed.

Max got into town during the afternoon on a Thursday. I told him to meet me at a hotel that I had reserved a room in and that we could "talk" and then either order room service or go out; and that I could spend the night with him. That afternoon our "talk" involved him giving me two nice oral orgasms and then making love to me again. We decided to go out for dinner, and then a moonlight walk. During the walk I saw him surreptitiously pop a little blue pill.

When we got back to our hotel room Max held me by the arms and with great embarrassment said "Sybil, I need to ask for a favor. If you refuse, that's fine – but I would never forgive myself if I didn't ask."

"Well, then, ask away," I chuckled.

Avoiding eye contact and talking so softly that I almost couldn't hear him he said "Sybil, I've never had anal sex, and you have the best ass I've ever seen; is it possible we could try anal?"

"You mean me use a strap-on on you?" I asked with a serious tone. My question had the desired effect as his jaw dropped before I started laughing hysterically. He playfully tickled me until I agreed, "as long as you use plenty of lube," I told him.

Max ate me to another orgasm then started to lube my pucker hole. I was going to suck him hard, but the combination of his excitement and the little blue pill had him harder than during our previous two fucks. After a one finger penetration, then two, he stuck his lubed dick in. I was glad he was the size he was (average) and not bigger since despite the turgidity of his cock it was somewhat painful when he pushed in. Once he popped past my sphincter, however, it was heavenly. 

Max didn't make love to my ass, like he had to my pussy. He vigorously fucked it and ejaculated a river into me when he came. It generated only a mild orgasm in me, but it was a pleasurable experience, especially given how grateful Max was afterward when he nicely massaged my thighs and tits until I fell asleep.

_______________ 

Brian and I talked regularly during our separation, at least three times a week. He really seemed to be making an effort, as his conversation with Amy after their last encounter showed. I didn't really want to meet with him during the separation but two weeks into the fourth, and last, month, when I was down to two "dates" a week, he weaseled his way into coming to my house on a weeknight. I thought because there was work the next morning I was pretty safe. 

Brian was as pleasant as he could be when he came over, and insisted on making me dinner, something he hadn't done in six-seven years. He looked good too, in a Polo shirt and shorts. "Have you been working out?" I asked, having already been informed by the P I that he was.

"Almost every day for the past three months. The doctor said that exercise is the best thing to stimulate the libido, and I needed to lose a few pounds anyway," he cheerfully replied.

I smiled at him. He smiled back, then swatted my ass and said "your ass and thighs are as fantastic as the first time I saw you. Plus, you really are a beautiful and sexy woman."

Hearing him volunteer that was more important to me than hearing the same thing from the dozens of guys I had come across the last two years combined.

"Thank you," I said with a big grin, genuinely pleased.

When after dinner he pulled a bottle of cognac from the gym bag he had brought in I knew for sure what his intention was. He knew that though I could normally hold liquor well that I was strangely amorously affected by cognac.

"Brian, I don't know if we should have sex until the separation time is up?" I said weakly, as he poured me a wine glass portion of cognac.

"Who said anything about sex?" he replied with a devilish grin.

By the time that I had consumed six ounces of cognac he was fucking me doggy on my living room floor, by far the best he had fucked me in six years, and on a par with the sex with any of my fuck buddies. He then carried my big ass up to my bedroom – "You really have been working out, haven't you," I cooed while stroking a bicep as he lumbered up the stairs. In bed he gave me an oral orgasm then gently made love to me. I fell asleep on his shoulder.

Once Brian was back in the game I told Amber to cancel all future dates – at least until I had his final answer on the post-nuptial agreement. 

In a serious attempt to cut down on work Brian had interviewed a number of CEO candidates so that he could delegate more than half of his responsibilities. He emailed me the resume and recorded interview of Brendon Nance, the guy he wanted to hire. I was impressed with both the resume and interview but wanted to meet him myself so Brian took Brendon and me to dinner one night near the end of our separation. 

After an hour of conversation I thought that Brendon was perfect and gave Brian a "thumbs up." "To come aboard Brendon wants 10% of the stock in Cherub if he meets performance requirements after two years, and 10% more if he meets further requirements after four years," Brian said.

"No problem," was my reply, "I'd gladly give him part of my stock both times if it would get my marriage back!" All three of us smiled, and Brian offered and Brendon accepted the job during desert.

I was so encouraged by Brian's efforts that after dinner I let him spend the night with me. His mojo was clearly working once more since he fucked me twice again, and this time with two oral orgasms. 

The day the separation was up was a Saturday, and Brian was at my rented house by 6:30 a.m., banging on the door until I groggily opened it.

"Why are you all sweaty?" I asked him with my eyes half closed and my bathrobe barely covering my pussy.

"I jogged over here," he proudly proclaimed. I smiled the best that I could at such an early hour.

After some coffee I returned to awareness and we started discussing the post-nuptial contract. I thought the provision that he could work no more than forty five hours a week, with the exception of two specified weeks of the year, might kill the deal, but he readily agreed to that. The provision that was causing him grief was very different.

"Cheryl, I don't know if I can agree with paragraph 6," he moaned.

That paragraph read "Brian agrees that – absent illness, injury, or family emergency – if in a seven day period he does not have intercourse with Cheryl at least twice a breach occurs. For purposes of this section if Cheryl turns down Brian for sex that counts as a time having sex. If Brian breaches this section then the week after the breach, by giving at least 48 hours' notice, Cheryl is free to do anything she wants one day that week without answering to Brian in any way, and without breach of paragraph 5 of this agreement." Paragraph 5 said that neither party would have sex outside of marriage, sex being defined as any one of "oral, anal, and vaginal."

I held Brian's hand and softly but firmly responded "that tough love provision is the only thing that will keep you in line. My shrink says that I have to have it, my lawyer agrees, and the marriage counselor agrees. Even if they didn't tell me that I'd insist upon it. If I know you, the only reason you're back here is because you can't stand the idea of me fucking someone else, correct?"

After a long pause he replied, "That's second; number one is that I love you."

"And I love you too, Brian, which is why I didn't just haul off and divorce you when you made our marriage empty and miserable. If I don't have this, you'll relapse."

He sucked in a deep breath, I got dressed, we found a notary that was open at a photocopy store, and we both signed the post-nuptial contract in front of the notary. Then Brian took me back to our house and fucked me twice each on Saturday and Sunday.

The post-nuptial worked very well, and I was ecstatic that our marriage would likely be restored. Brian nailed me three times a week on average, and the sex was almost as good as when we were first married, and much better than it had been in ten years. Then the first glitch occurred.

Although there was a "reason," albeit a poor one and certainly not "illness, injury, or family emergency," one week we had sex only once, and that was when I almost had to beg for it. When I called the breech of the post-nuptial to Brian's attention the first day of the next week he begged for forgiveness, promised it would never happen again, and fucked me twice that day alone to make amends. When for an even a poorer reason breach of paragraph happened again two weeks later, however, I knew that it was gut check time.

"Tough love doesn't mean wimpy love," my shrink told me. "If there are no consequences this second time you might as well forget about the post-nuptial," she said. I called Janet/Amber to get her take. She couldn't have agreed more.

Brian pretended – the operative word is "pretended" – to be oblivious to the second breach Monday and Tuesday of the week after the breach. However, that Wednesday night I told him that I wouldn't see him Saturday from 10 a.m. until midnight because of the breach.

Brian begged for forgiveness, promised it wouldn't happen again, and in general whined like a spoiled child. I was determined, however, although I was still thinking that I would just pretend to go get laid that day while spending it in museums and at the movies. Then he made a fatal error. "If you do this, Cheryl, then I'm divorcing you."

"You fucking bastard," I screamed. "You breach a contract that you signed which you knew you had to in order to save your marriage, and when you violate it for the second time you bring out the nuclear option? I guess the rekindling of our love over the last few months means nothing to you, and that you have every intention of going back to the unacceptable relationship we had before our separation."

I was so mad that I could feel steam coming out of my ears as he stood there with arms crossed but avoiding eye contact as I continued to rant. "Screw you! If you file for divorce because you can't keep your promises then all you need to do is show me where to sign to make it official."

I still had a month to go on my rental house lease, so I stormed back there until Friday night. I slept in our bed – with Brian – Friday night. He tried to initiate sex but I said "I decline; therefore you've fulfilled your obligations under paragraph 6 of the post-nuptial contract for this week so I won't be taking a 'free day' next week." He had a resigned look on his face as I hit the pillow and almost instantly fell asleep.

By 10 a. m. Saturday I was out the door with an overnight bag in my hand and tight jeans shorts accenting my ass and thighs. "Monday you need to fuck me or serve divorce papers – your choice," were my last words to him as I gave him a perfunctory kiss on the cheek and then peeled rubber with my Mercedes 600 SL as I left the street we live on.

_______________ 

After Brian's divorce threat the Wednesday night after he breached the contract, on my way over to my rental house I had called Janet/Amber. After explaining the situation I asked "Can you get Chris to meet me sometime on Saturday?"

"Chris, huh – you like him, don't you?" Amber chuckled.

"Actually, I'm asking for Chris because he is completely commitment-phobic so I know that there will be no complications. Also, the sex with him is very good, though not as good as with Brian. I wish that bastard Brian would wise up and save our marriage!" I started quietly crying but Janet saved me from embarrassment by simply saying "I'll give him a call," and then quickly hung up.

About an hour later, as I was sitting on the living room couch in my rented house nursing a second white wine, my tears only recently dried, Janet called.

"Chris says that he would love to meet, although he is entertaining his twin eighteen year old nephews until about eight at night."

"Ask him where they'll be during the day and I'll join them and then we can ditch the twins that night," I said without thinking. "Text me."

The next day I had a text from Janet – "Meet Sat 10 am @ History Museum."

I had almost forgotten that Chris' nephews would be with him when I arrived at the History Museum about 10:15 on Saturday. I was taken aback when I saw them. They were identical twins, "Jack and Zack," that looked more like Brian the day that I first met him than any other people I had ever seen in my life, including Brian's older brother. They were virtually the same height, same blond hair and blue eyes, similar handsome face, and the same shy smile, as a young Brian. They inexplicably put on sunglasses after being introduced, and wore them inside – weird!




Tough Love



Chris and I had no public displays of affection since I had no idea who I might run into at the Museum. 

By one in the afternoon the nephews were all cultured-out. We went for a nice lunch and then the nephews wanted to go to the hotel where Chris had gotten a room, for a swim and to workout. I had a bikini and workout clothes in my overnight bag so I joined them.

Jack and Zack acted like typical eighteen year olds, including splashing Chris and I as we sat poolside sipping Pina Coladas. When not being splashed, Chris and I talked about his nephews and my marriage.

"You made quite an impression on them," he said with a diabolical grin.

"How so?" I innocently asked.

"Why do you think they put on their sunglasses even when inside? They're ass and leg men, just like their uncle, and your ass and legs were the display in the museum that they most appreciated."

I'm certain that I blushed, and then stuttered out "I'm sure you're wrong." Chris just chuckled.

Later in our conversation Chris told me that his older sister and her husband were strict religious freaks and that Jack and Zack had a hard time partying like normal teenagers. Even though the twins were not virgins they were very inexperienced sexually for good looking guys their ages. His sister and brother didn't know that they were even visiting Chris; they hadn't asked their parents' permission because their parents would have said "no."

Without revealing my identity, or too many details, I told Chris about the basics of my post-nuptial contract to explain why I was meeting him, and that Jack and Zack looked like my husband when I first met him.

After we were pooled-out we all went to the exercise room and with weights, elliptical machines, and other equipment, worked out for more than an hour, really developing a sweat. Chris and I went to his room to shower, with the nephews to join us "after a few more reps." After showering we were going to find a restaurant for dinner and then send the twins back to Chris' house or to party elsewhere. I made sure that Chris knew that I had to be home by midnight (otherwise I'd violate the contract).

Chris insisted that I shower first. The water felt good on my body as I soaped up my recently shaved pubic area and shampooed my hair. After my shower I didn't see my change of clothes in the bathroom, which I thought that I had brought in. I wrapped a towel around my vitals and with my hair still wet walked into the main part of the room. "Chris, have you seen my change of clothes?" I asked.

"They're here on the dresser, I think, though I'm not sure which clothes you wanted," he chimed back.

I walked further into the main room and was somewhat surprised to see Zack and Jack in the room wearing nothing by exercise shorts – just like their uncle. All three were sweaty, and really looking sexy. All of them also had wanton looks on their faces as they stared at me. I felt like a gazelle being watched by a pride of lions.

As I was nervously fumbling around trying to find the clothes I thought I had brought into the bathroom Chris came face-to-face with me. He whispered "Wouldn't you like to do a really nice thing for two sexually repressed young men who look like your husband at their age?" a fact I now regretted that I had told him.

My mind started grinding away as I glanced at the young bucks.

"Have you ever had multiple partners at the same time before?" Chris whispered directly in my ear.

"Wouldn't you like to try it seeing that this might be your last opportunity if your husband stops violating your contract?" he mumbled while nibbling my ear.

My eyes were wide open, my brain was malfunctioning, my pussy was leaking, and my hormones were surging, as Chris gently laid me down on the king size bed in the room and then removed the towel covering my body. I saw the eyes of the troika of "lions" get as big as mine as they dropped their shorts, exposing impossibly hard cocks.

Chris massaged my right breast while gently kissing me. One of the twins – I couldn't tell which was which – massaged my left breast and thigh. The other twin got between my legs and with quiet coaching from Chris starting eating my pussy, then fingering me, then eating and fingering. The feelings on all parts of my body were so intense that I was sure that I would soon experience sensory overload.

After one fairly strong orgasm where I lifted up my crotch into the hungry twin's face while moaning loudly, the twin stuck his hard cock into my sopping wet pussy and started vigorously stroking. I wrapped my thighs around him and squeezed. 

With instruction from Chris the other twin moved his cock to my lips. I turned my head and started sucking it while simultaneously massaging his balls. Meanwhile, when not giving gentle coaching, Chris was kneading both breasts while tonguing one nipple.

The twins didn't last long; they didn't need to since I was as excited as they were. The twin in my pussy came first, shortly followed by me as he continued to stroke even after he came. Despite going through my own orgasm I was able to keep the second twin's cock in my mouth until he came a few seconds after I did, and I hungrily swallowed his mammoth load.

After both twins withdrew, Chris didn't give me much time to recover. He turned me on my hands and knees, lubricated his fingers with the combined fluids dribbling onto my thighs, and stuck one finger, then a second, into my ass. He must have lubed his cock head with a commercial lubricant, though I was too out of it to tell, because despite the above average size of his mushroom his cock slid almost effortlessly into my anus.

Chris was like a horny teenager himself as he pounded my ass while kneading the cheeks, and instructing one twin to finger my clit and the other to suck a tit. When Chris came at the same time that a nipple and my clit were being stimulated I came so hard that I know that I blacked out for at least a few seconds.

Except for short breaks for eating snack food and drinking juices and soft drinks from the mini-bar, the three of them each fucked each of my holes, some multiple times, until about 11:00 that night. There was never a time when hands weren't manipulating one of my body parts while at least one hole was being filled, either.

Around 10:45 one twin either passed out or fell asleep, and when I got out of bed at 11:00 the other twin rolled over to my spot and was instantly comatose. Chris scrubbed my back, and gently washed my now very sensitive pussy and boobs, in the shower and dried me off. By the time that he walked me to my car about 11:30 I was almost fully cognizant.

"Wow – what an experience," I grinned.

"You gave my nephews what is not only their best memory in life so far, but likely to be their best ever even if they live to be one hundred," Chris chuckled.

"I felt like two young Brians were fucking my brains out – plus another wonderful stud – so the greatest memory will be mine," I sighed.

Chris chuckled.

"I hope that this is the last time that I see you," I said with a wistful smile, giving Chris a light peck on the lips.

"Selfishly I hope that your husband remains stupid," Chris said with a sneer; then his sneer turned into a smile as he said "but because of my fondness for you I hope that it works out." Then he gave me a passionate kiss, I got in my car, and drove away without looking back.

I arrived home at five minutes to midnight, got into a shorty nighty, then snuggled in next to Brian. He was already asleep, but he instinctively spooned me. Despite my apprehension about how Brian was going to respond the next morning I was so tired that I quickly fell asleep.

I couldn't believe it when the next morning I was awakened by "Wake up, sleepy head, time for breakfast." Through half-open eyes I saw Brian carrying a tray full of plates and glasses into our bedroom. The tray had scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns, fresh berries, orange juice, and tea. I think that he intended it to be enough for two but I was so famished from the previous day's activities and lack of a real dinner that I almost inhaled three quarters of the entire spread before I came up for air.  

Realizing my mistake I giggled, gave Brian a big kiss, and carried the tray downstairs to make some more eggs and sausage so that Brian wouldn't starve.

After breakfast we read the Sunday paper together sitting back-to-back, or side-by-side, or with my legs draped over his lap, on the living room couch. We drove to the country for a picnic lunch I prepared, took a hand-in-hand walk by an isolated lake, and in general enjoyed each other's company. He said nothing about the previous day.

Since most of the day Brian was very handsy I was starting to get worried that he might want sex that day or night. That would be a real problem for me because my pussy and nipples were still very sore, and I knew that I would flinch if he touched them. A flinch would put him on notice about the intensity of the previous day's activities, something I wanted to avoid.

Later in the afternoon as he and I were playing doubles tennis, on opposite teams, with another couple, I was still mulling over my problem in my mind while trying to concentrate on the game. I swear that I didn't do it intentionally, but with my limited concentration on the match when I hit an overhand while I was at the net the tennis ball smacked Brian right in the balls. He stupidly was not wearing a jock strap and collapsed on the court. The three of us made a fuss over him and he tried to recuperate, but since he and his partner lost even though they were better than me and my partner, it was clear that he hadn't fully recovered.

That night I alternated icing and gently massaging his injured testicles. Even though he wanted to give fucking a try I coaxed him – it didn't take much – into instead letting me give him a blow job without touching his balls. I gave my sucking and licking maximum effort and based upon the sounds he made and the volume of spunk deposited in my mouth he got maximum pleasure out of it.

Still working on a sleep deficit I didn't wake up by the time that Brian left for work on Monday. As soon as I did wake up I called him at his office.

"I'm really sorry I wasn't awake for you this morning," I sighed. "I really wanted to make you a good breakfast."

"You looked so peaceful I didn't have the heart to disturb you," he chuckled.

"Brian. You need to know that I love you as much as the day we got married, and I know that recently it's been 'tough love' but I badly want to save not only our marriage, but the quality of it. I don't know that you'll ever understand, but it's the truth."

"I know you thought, and think, that you're doing what's best for us," he said wistfully, "But you're right, it's hard for me to understand exactly.'

After a pregnant pause I continued. "Today's the day, Brian. Either come home and fuck me or bring divorce papers to sign. I really, really hope it's the former. I love you!" Then I gently put the receiver back down.

Before I left for work I put a special salve on all of the sore spots on my body, in order to speed recovery. I was distracted most of the day, and decided to go home early. To my surprise, Brian's car was already in the garage when I got to our house. 

When I walked into the living room I found Brian there naked, with his dick saluting. He literally ripped my clothes off, including popping all of the buttons on my blouse and mangling the zipper on my skirt. Then he bent me over my favorite padded chair, and fucked my brains out.

I was still slightly sensitive, but time and the salve had made it so that I wasn't going to flinch. I pulsed my pussy muscles as often and as vigorously as I could as he pummeled my pussy from behind. We had simultaneous knee-weakening orgasms, and rolled onto the floor with his cock still buried in my pussy. When we finally separated I gave him a soul-touching kiss.

"I guess that your balls must have recovered since they were constantly banging against my ass while you were fucking me senseless," I giggled.

"They still hurt a little, but not enough to keep me from what over my lifetime has been my favorite activity," he grinned back.

"Does this mean that we're going forward to restore our marriage, under the terms of the post-nuptial?" I asked while staring into his eyes and running my fingers over his lips.

"Hell yes!" he shot back. "Your 'tough love' on Saturday gave me an entire day to reflect on things. I love you, I'm mesmerized by your sexy body, and I want our marriage back to the way it was ten years ago."

That night he made love to me and it was the first day of our return to our old marriage.

That Monday was about three years ago. Since then Brian has followed not only the letter of the post-nuptial, but also has embraced its spirit. He works less than forty hours a week, we travel together often, we workout at the health club together almost daily, we frequently go out dancing and to parties, we average wonderful, passionate, sex about three times a week, and – best of all – cuddle in each other's arms every night. I'm as happy as I've ever been and, unless Brian is a consummate actor, so is he.

"Tough love" worked for me!

Epilogue:

While my personal financial situation has never been anything but fantastic, two years ago the company that I work for was having a hard time. Some people had already been laid off, and things were not looking good for the future. I had real affection for my co-workers so I worked without pay until we could get back to solvency.

The company's main problem was a stale product line. I had told them for years that they needed at least one major new product. Exasperated, I brought Brian up to speed on the problems, and, inventive genius that he is, he had the outline for a breakthrough within two weeks. I demanded that the president of the company, and the entire engineering department, meet with him and me on threat of resigning if they didn't. Of course they loved the idea and within three months they had a commercial version.

Now it was time to sell the new product. As the best sales person I was asked to go to what had previously been our biggest customer. Its head office was about 1500 miles away. About two years ago it had gotten a new CEO who didn't like our stale products and who had cut our business with them down by more than half. The customer's CEO promised our CEO to give me an audience to explain the new product, but with no promises other than a chance to be heard.

I prepared hard for the sales pitch and told our CEO that I wanted to go there alone. I set up a dinner meeting with the three key people from the customer, with the sales presentation to occur the next morning.

When I got to the dinner, right on time, the three people from the customer were already there. I almost had a heart attack when I was introduced to the CEO. It was Max, the gentlemanly 50-something fuck buddy from the time of my four month separation from Brian. He might have been even more shocked than I was.

After he and I each drained our first two drinks, while the other two people at dinner carried the conversation, we finally got with it. His real name was Sam Hastings, and I found out that he had gotten married (his first wife had died about two years before I met him) about a year ago. When dinner was over and our two companions had left Sam ushered me to a private alcove in the restaurant.

"I simply can't believe it's you," he smiled, "you look fantastic."

"I reconciled with my husband and life is great, so I feel fantastic," I smiled back. "Married life must be agreeing with you too, Max – I mean Sam (I laughed) – since you look even better than I remember."

After some more small talk, with an evil grin, and while fondling my ass, he said "You know, Sybil slash Cheryl, just because fucking your butt was the best sexual experience of my life does not mean that you're going to get a contract."

"No, but it won't hurt; and when I give you the best sales presentation you've ever seen tomorrow morning, I will have the contract!" I replied with an equally evil grin. I gave him a passionate kiss as he squeezed my ass, then said "That was for old times' sake!" I then turned and walked out of the restaurant to get a cab, provocatively wiggling my ass as I went, and smiling at him over my shoulder.

I came back with the biggest single purchase order in the history of the company I worked for, which not only saved the jobs of my present co-workers, but required the laid-off workers to be called back.

Was my ass or my sales pitch my best asset? Only "Max" knows for sure!



Tough Love



1

Maynor Smith powered up the small handheld video camera, rested it on the edge of his desk, and then pointed it at the girl on the couch. His chest felt hollow, his heartbeats reverberating inside him like an old bass drum. It always felt this way at the start, especially with a new girl. He ignored it, knowing it would soon pass. It always did. He framed her smiling face, her delicious body. He loved the prim way she held her knees together. Her parents had taught her to sit like that. Her schoolteachers, her priests, even her classmates had played a part in teaching her appropriate behavior for a girl. He would use all that. 

Allison grinned at him. 

She was cute. Silky dark hair that hung to her shoulders. Nineteen. He would have to ask her for two forms of ID to prove her age, but with Allison that was merely a formality. He knew exactly how old she was. He'd known her since she was fourteen. She was the same age as his own daughter, and the two girls had been good friends through most of middle and high school. He had coached them on the local youth volleyball team. He knew, for example, that Allison possessed a terrific serve. 

"Why don't you introduce yourself?" he asked. 

Allison nodded. "Right here?" she asked. She raised both her brows. Clear, bright eyes, the small, upturned nose. A shallow cleft in her chin. 

"Stand up," he said. 

He pointed to show her where another camera was. He had them strategically placed throughout the small studio. It was a loft he had purchased for his wife to do pottery and painting, but the neighborhood had always been a little dodgy, and it had only gotten worse, so she didn't like to come out here anymore. It occurred to him that he was being unfaithful to his wife, but this was more of an afterthought, not the cause of his anxiety, his discomfort. He didn't consider this infidelity. A siren wailed in the streets below. He was working. 

Allison stood and licked her lips. She was nervous. 

"Take a deep breath," he said. 

She inhaled, swelling her chest, then blew the air out. She was wearing a pair of cutoff denim shorts, a long sleeve shirt cut to bare her midriff. It wasn't the sexiest outfit, but she'd be out of it soon enough. They were his daughter's clothes. He'd brought a bag of stuff for Allison to select from. He wanted her to have something clean to wear for her interview. 

She cut her eyes to him. 

"Go ahead," he said. "And remember. These are men you're talking to." 

She nodded her head, a vacant look on her face. 

"Men," he repeated firmly. 

She raised both her shoulders, twining her arms together in front of her, just as he'd hoped she would. He beamed at her, his dick swelling in his pants. This was Allison's shy girl act. It was how she related to men, especially men she didn't know. He'd watched her do it with every new assistant coach he'd ever hired. She'd done it with him, too, of course, but he knew how to get her to give him her best. He wasn't even sure if she was aware she did it. It probably had something to do with her relationship with her father, a hard driven and demanding man that Maynor knew well. 

Leaning back in his chair, Maynor clasped his hands behind his head. Allison went through the little spiel they'd planned out. Fake name (Alice), fake hometown (L.A.) She toyed with her hair and said she'd been a model for a few weeks. 

His customers would eat this up.

She finished her speech and then stood twisting her hands together and grinning. He invited her to sit back down and she did. At this point, his competitors would have their young models strip, get on with the show, but that's not how Maynor operated. 

"Tell me about yourself," he said. 

She looked lost. 

"Your sex life," he added. 

The lost look transformed itself to something uncomfortable, but she took a deep breath and grinned. Rubbing her hands on her slender thighs, she looked at a point on the floor and said nothing.

"How many partners have you had?" he prompted. 

"Two," she said, her voice barely audible. 

She bit her lip and grinned. "No, wait. Three," she added, a little louder. 

She nodded her head, pursing her lips.

She tilted her head and shot her eyes to the ceiling. 

"Do blowjobs count?" she asked.

He laughed. She explained that she was inexperienced, a little shy. He wondered if this was more of her shy girl act. It didn't really matter. He didn't care. He didn't need the truth. Moving her hands as she spoke, she flipped her fingers through her hair and grew more animated. Allison was relaxing. 

"Tell me about your last relationship," Maynor said. 

She looked around the room as if she were going to bolt. He raised his brows and sat up in his chair, looking for a way to rescue her. She bowed her head, her cheeks reddening. Pulling at her eyebrow, she grinned sheepishly. "To be honest," she said, her voice meek. "It was in rehab." She took a deep breath and then launched into a story about using heroin, getting strung out, and then dropping out of school her freshman year at college. 

He felt relieved. 

He already knew about her drug problem. Her father had confided it to Maynor two weeks ago. It was late, almost closing time at the Roma, a small dive bar on the lower eastside. The two of them had been drinking and watching football most of the night. Speaking through clenched teeth, her father said he'd had to kick her out of the house. Maynor had been pretty drunk, but his ears perked up. 

"Do you want a drink?" Maynor asked. "Some wine?" Her honesty about her drug problem surprised him, but he continued with the illusion that he didn't already know. She wasn't exactly relaxing, but she was investing, and that seemed just as good. 

"Yes," she nodded, fanning herself with both her hands.

He poured two glasses of wine, but left his sitting untouched on the desk. She explained that her last relationship was with one of the other patients in rehab, and that relationships weren't allowed, so she'd had to leave sooner than expected. 

Maynor let her talk. He watched her sip the wine. After the night at the Roma, he'd begun searching for her. He drove past abandoned buildings, graffiti-marred underpasses, and crack houses at all hours of the night. He cruised the local Greyhound and Amtrak stations. It took a few days, but he finally found her in an uptown playground, six blocks from the red light district. She sat with a group of young people, slowly revolving on a merry-go-round, passing a bottle in a brown paper bag between them.

She got to the end of her story and her wine at the same time. Wiping her lips with the back of her hand, she set the wine glass on the floor. She smiled, but her eyes were glum.

Maynor nodded his head sympathetically.

When he'd first approached her in the playground, a young man she was with behaved aggressively, but Allison quickly put him in his place. It was a good sign. A girl on the street often teamed up with a man, but these arrangements rarely proved beneficial to the girl.

"My mom," Allison said, "isn't speaking with me right now."

"That's fucked up," Maynor said. He waited for her to look up. Her eyes were misting, and he felt something lurch inside his stomach. "But it's not all bad," he said.

A hopeful look passed over her face.

"We'll make this tape," he said, nodding to the handheld. "I'll send it around to producers. Soon you'll get work, start making money."

He grinned at her, his hands outstretched.

"Big money," he said, raising his brows and lowering his hands.

He let his words hang in the air between them. He wasn't just some kid on the street with a bottle of wine. "Parents love it when you start making money," he whispered in a confident tone. "You can go buy yourself a little car."

She grinned and ducked her head. She chuckled.

"A Jetta," he said. "Parents love Jettas."

She nodded and chewed her lip. He chatted with her about this year's prospects for the high school football team, a recent grease fire that had shut down a local fried chicken restaurant, and the annual strawberry festival that was in danger of cancellation because a mite infestation had decimated this year's strawberry crop.

"Ok," she finally said. "Ok." She held up both her hands, palm out.

He slid the paperwork to the edge of the desk.

He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. He still felt some trepidation, but now it was just a slight fluttering in his chest, and even that was fading fast. He watched her sign the release. She used big loopy swoops to make her name. When it was done, she raised her eyes and bit her bottom lip.

He met her gaze and smiled.

His cock was hard.





Tough Love



Maynor petted Allison's pretty head. 

As he'd searched the streets for her, he thought about how he might use her. He never imagined she'd make herself so vulnerable in the interview. Her delicate hands opened his fly and took out his erection. Gazing up at him, she stroked his cock and smiled. 

She could be the shy girl who got in over her head. 

She pumped his cock with her fist. Slipping his cock into her mouth, she allowed her head to follow the action of her fist. He gathered her hair. He waited for her face to go forward and then closed his fist on her hair, jamming her nose into his pubic patch. His cock muffled the sounds of her shock. She raised her chin, eyes wide with fear. 

He framed her face in the camera.

Her fingernails dug into his thighs, her neck and shoulder muscles tensed, straining. She tried to extricate herself, but he squared his hips with her face, holding her fast. 

He didn't want to choke her. It was just the best way to present her to customers, manufacturing a little reluctance. She was, after all, a girl with an obligation, a girl who needed to pay her dues. It was what customers wanted to see. 

Soon she lowered her chin, her head going limp against his hand. Her submission made his dick swell, his heart thump. He rocked his hips, humping her face. Small wet noises came from her mouth. He had a directional mike pointed at her throat. In the finished video, he would turn up the levels on those noises, accentuating her predicament. 

Afraid he might come, he let her hair go and she went right back to kissing and licking his shaft. No complaints. No harm, no foul. 

What a great kid. 

He took his wet shaft with two fingers and raised it. 

"Balls," he said.

She dutifully put her mouth on his penis, but he pulled his dick free. "Balls," he said. She looked at him blankly, brushing the hair from her face.

"Do the balls," he said with mild irritation. "Do the balls."

A look of comprehension flashed across her face and she squatted lower, putting her chin under his cock. She took one of his hairy balls in her mouth, nuzzling it. His wet shaft flopped on her face. He could feel her silky hair on his cock, her warm mouth on his nuts. 

He bent her over a waist-high counter, a position she seemed reluctant to try. He slipped in behind her, running his thumb down the delicate knobs of her spine. She arched her back, looking over her shoulder with a pensive expression. 

Putting his foot between her legs and tapping her ankles, he got her to open her legs for him. 

She was panting. He couldn't tell if it was fear or passion. Closing her mouth, she looked ahead, then immediately twisted her trunk to meet his eyes. She looked like she was about to say something, but he didn't wait to hear what would come out. He put his cock inside her. She was warm and tight. As he sank inside, she exhaled heavily and grabbed onto the far edge of the counter. He took her slender waist in his hands and rocked his hips. His groin made a slapping noise against her ass. 

She reached one hand toward him, her fingers splayed. 

He swung his hips hard. She gasped, grabbing onto the counter with both hands. He slapped her ass once, and then again, and then once more, all in the same place. A red handprint appeared on her bottom, glowing hot. 

"Coach, coach, coach," she whispered, her voice low and needy. 

She worked her legs closed again.

His cock was still inside her, and he stroked her hips and ground himself against her rear. She looked over her shoulder and smiled hesitantly at him.

"Put this knee up on the counter," he said, tapping her thigh. 

Her smile disappeared. 

She looked to the front, wordlessly raising her knee.

He had to stand on his toes to bury his cock inside her. Taking her hips in his hands, he lined himself up, then fucked her hard, sending his cock into her again and again. She didn't drop her knee, but she made a low rolling wail that grew in intensity. The windows were open. He slapped her ass in the same spot as before, then grabbed a fistful of her hair. She stopped howling, looking at him like a feral animal.

He slowed his strokes. Soon he let go of her hair. 

He winked. 

He ground his groin into her, then pulled himself back, letting his wet cock slip from her sticky slit. Tapping her thigh, he gave permission for her to remove her knee from the counter. Lowering her leg, she gave little shuddery exhales. 

He gestured with the fingers of both his hands for her to come to him. 

She melted against his chest, hands clasped in front of her. He put his arms around her shoulders, his cock heavy with blood and bobbing between them. He stroked her head and she closed the small gap between them, crushing his erection against her tummy. Her shoulders shivered. The pace of the session could be much different from the pace of the tape. He whispered encouragements into her ear. He only needed about twenty minutes of footage, but for Allison it would be the most humiliating sex of her young life. He could afford to be generous, to go slow. He could get the shots he needed a little at a time, spread out over the course of the entire afternoon. He gathered Allison tighter, cooing into her ear. The thought of what lay ahead made his cock throb against her flat tummy. 





Tough Love



He pressed his cockhead against her pussy. "I got a little dick," he said. 

Her brows arched upwards.

He sank himself into her. 

"Lots of girls like it up the ass," he said. "Girls just like you." 

Her eyes widened. 

He bent his head to kiss her. When she twisted her head away, he put his lips at her ear and whispered: "Good little girls. Good little slu—"

"Coach," she cried, cutting him off. 

He grinned. 

"I didn't do it," she said. "We didn't do it." 

He started to move his hips. He could hear the urgency in her voice, but he didn't care. He just wanted to shame her into taking a cock up her ass. 

"It was Cho," she said. 

He smiled. He moved his hips with a comfortable rhythm. 

"Cho fucked all three of those boys," Allison said. Her tone was earnest and firm. "Cho is the slut. Cho is the whore." 

He met her eyes and she didn't waver. She launched into the story of that night in Morristown, at the Red Roof Inn. It was a strange story, mainly because the truth of it was something he'd assumed he already knew. He'd never pressed any of the girls for details. He just drove home with them in a quiet bus, his chin on his chest. Cho knew one of the boys and set up the rendezvous. They went to a house party where the boys gave them ecstasy. Cho sucked off the boy she came with in the den, with everyone watching. Veronica and Allison cheered Cho on, but refused their dates. Eventually all three boys fucked Cho. 

"She's the whore, coach," Allison said. "Cho's the slut."

He said nothing. He had fallen into a pounding rhythm with his hips. It was surreal. Little Allison Manning was under him, his meaty cock stuffed between her legs, and she was making a compelling case for why he couldn't call her a slut. And she was doing it by throwing one of her teammates under the bus. 

Allison's tight little ass squirmed under him as he used her pussy. 

He watched her jaw jerk with each of his thrusts and realized he was fucking her too hard. He was punishing her, and she was accepting it. She wanted something from him. She watched his face intently, an earnest expression on her face. "Cho took all three at one time," Allison whispered, saying it like a lover. 

He stopped moving his hips. 

"They took turns coming in her mouth," Allison said. "Cho said it was her birth control strategy." 

Turning his head, he looked at a studio wall that held nothing. 

He grinned. 

He shook his head. 

"Cho," he finally said, "is a slut." 

Allison took his head in her hands and kissed him full on the lips, her warm tongue invading his mouth. His eyes were open, his tongue thick and unresponsive. He'd never been in this situation before and wasn't quite sure how to navigate it. 

Allison broke their kiss, but kept her fingers pressed into his scalp. 

She outmaneuvered him. He could feel her warm breath on his chin. She got the best of him. She tentatively pressed her lips to his again, her tongue snaking its way back into his mouth. He returned her kiss with his tongue this time, knowing he wouldn't get her ass. 

They kept their sweaty heads near one another. 

"I always knew Cho was a slut," he said. 

Allison snorted soft laughter. A car alarm sounded in the street below.

"How?" she asked. 

Her question hung in the air. He was already thinking about how to salvage his tape. When he realized she was waiting for an answer, he said: "She looks like a slut." 

Allison laughed, but Maynor didn't. 

He met her eyes, his face unreadable. He had an idea about Allison. He might not get her to bend over, but there were plenty of other things he could ask for. He had an idea about how to get what he needed from her.