She was his. Forever. Indisputably.
And he would not be sharing her ever again.
He stripped himself naked and lay down behind her. His cock was rock hard. He had a pair of handcuffs, which he used to secure her wrists overhead, running the chain through one of the rods of the brass headboard. She was still half asleep as he popped the ball gag in her mouth, securing the leather strap behind her head.
Grasping her hips, his cock poised to penetrate, Kevin whispered hotly in her ear. “Submit."
Erin moaned into her gag, yielding up her pussy for penetration.
"Mine,” he sank himself to the hilt.
His slave wife pushed herself back against him, affirming his right to command and occupy her sex.
"You won't be troubled by Caine anymore,” he told her. “Or by any other man. You have one master, from now on. Though, I assure you, that won't make it any easier on you. In fact,” he thrust into her hard. “You may well wish for the relief of another cock."
She shook her head no, trying to say something. It didn't matter what. She was a slave, being fucked by her master.
"I own you, Erin, all of you. Your tits, your ass. Your incredible brain. And your womb, too. We're going to make babies with it. I promise that. I'm ready to go to the doctor. We'll do what it takes. I know we can make it happen. You will take my semen, you'll yield and be pregnant. It will happen."
Now she nodded yes, with ferocious enthusiasm.
"I'm going to come,” he growled. “I'm going to fill you with my hot, fucking sperm. Take it, wife, take it, slave."
Erin held back, knowing she'd not been given permission to come with him. She was learning. After he was finished with her, he went to get the riding crop.
"I'm afraid you won't be feeling anymore pleasure tonight,” he told her. “I am going to punish you for not telling me sooner about what Caine was doing to you. I know it isn't your fault, but an ass whipping is the only way to take away your guilt. If I don't do this, it will only eat you up inside.
Erin's eyes were filled with wonder. She looked so delectable this way, chained, biting down on the red ball, drool dripping down her chin.
"You'll sleep on the floor tonight,” he told her, rubbing the whip over her ass. “Chained to the foot of the bed."
His slave wife moaned at her fate; not to mention the things he was doing to her red, cane welted skin.
"And tomorrow you'll tend to the cleaning you missed today."
Kevin watched her stirring. Was she going to fight somehow?
No, she was lifting her ass, signaling her submission. She was actually offering herself up for the pain.
"My god,” he sighed. “How I love you."
And then he whipped her, all the harder.
* * * *
Roger carried Sophia over the threshold, just like they were on their honeymoon again. Only now they were divorced, an ocean of water under the bridge. There was no comparing the occasions, of course. Their nuptial bed had been pure and white while this one was covered in red. The first time had been in a beautiful suite, now they were in a back room of a strip club.
Depositing her on the mattress, he pulled off his jacket. “You'll take this as a slave,” he told her. “I will show no mercy."
Sophia, dripping in sweat from the hot lights of the stage, opened her legs. “Yes, master."
His eyes were locked on hers, pure fire. “This means nothing,” he assured her. “You made me hard up there on stage and you're paying the price. It's lust. Nothing else."
Her hands lifted over her head palm up on the pillow. “Use me hard,” she begged. “Make me pay for all of it ... everything I ever did to hurt you."
Caine removed the rest of his clothes. Climbing on top of her, he tore at the g-string, rendering her naked. She was wet and fragrant, more than ready to submit.
Before she took his cock, however, they would settle some things.
"You never thought I was good enough for you,” he told her. “You secretly agreed with your father. You all looked down on me."
"I should have stood by you,” she agreed. “I was disrespectful and disloyal."
He shoved three full fingers in her pussy. He intended to insert his entire fist before he was done. “You tried to raise the children without me. You wanted them to look down on me, too."
She arched her back, sucking in a breath. “I—I did wrong,” she grimaced as he worked in his pinkie, too.
"Stop fighting me,” he said harshly. “Or I'll see to it you get the attentions of a dozen hard cocks before dawn."
The slave tried to relax her opening against Roger's invasion. “I'm sorry, master."
"I know I was not always the easiest man to live with. I admit this. I am not cut out to be a husband. But you weren't made to be a wife, either.” He twisted his hand, applying pressure enough to work in his thumb. He was almost there.
"Oh, god,” she gasped. “I was made for this ... to be your slave."
"Not mine,” he corrected. “Anyone else's but not mine."
Roger tightened his grip, forming a fist. Sophia screamed out, a blood curdling mixture of pleasure and pain. For a while he said nothing, just enjoying the sensation of abusing his voluntary slave.
"Focus on me,” he demanded. “Look at me. You're not going inside your head this time."
He grabbed her nipple cruelly. For once, she would really be with him for an orgasm, mentally, depending on his power, his cruelty even.
"I own you,” he hissed, saying the words he realized now he'd been wanting to say since the first time he'd laid eyes on her. “You're my fucking property. My slut. My bitch."
Her eyes opened wide, lit in a way he'd never seen. “Oh, god, master, what are you doing to me?"
"What I should have done a long time ago,” he said, removing his fist and flipping her onto her stomach. “Marking my territory."
His palm punished her hard. Ten times he struck her, leaving massive red handprints. She was whimpering, her buttocks twitching by the time he was done.
"Hump the mattress,” he said now, determined to keep up the pressure on her senses. “Show me what a slut you are."
The red assed slave raised and lowered her pelvis repeatedly, simulating the actions of sex.
"Faster,” he smacked her. “Do it like the slut you are."
She was shuddering with the need to orgasm. “Oh, my god,” she cried. “I'm going to come."
Roger grabbed her long mane of hair and pulled her to her side. “No!"
He spoke the words harshly, as one would to a dog. Sophia commenced to writhing on the bed, helpless in his grip. Climbing up to her face, he let her lick his balls and inner thighs.
"All the way,” he said, shoving her mouth onto his cock.
Sophia swallowed him whole, suppressing the urge to gag. He used her hair as a handle, working himself in and out. “Get it good and wet,” he told her. “It's going in your ass next."
She bobbed her head obediently, in preparation for anal penetration. When he could hold back no longer, he put her on all fours and positioned himself behind her.
"You'll be spending the night in a cage if I'm not satisfied, Sophia."
He thrust deep and fast, giving her little time to accommodate him. It was a slave fuck he was after, a pure act of sadistic pleasure on a helpless creature.
Sophia was hardly a victim, though. With each push deeper, she moaned out her dark excitement, soaking up the fullness, the shame, the implied humiliation.
This was something a diplomat's daughter did not do. Men went to whores for ass fucking. Just like they did for cock sucking. Diplomats’ daughters, polite young ladies all, waited on suitors. They smiled shyly and played hard to get. And afterwards, when they were married, they made their husband's lives a living hell.
Though in their case, the groom hadn't given much better in return. Was there a chance to start fresh for both of them? If they could somehow make a new connection, reseal their common int
erests? Reunion seemed so close. Just an orgasm away.
But he had to fight it. He had to pull out his cock. Spray her ass or face, or anywhere else, just so he didn't admit that dependency. Dependency was weakness, weakness meant pain.
His cock wasn't moving, though. It felt so at home.
One last chance, he thought, and he yanked himself free.
"Roger,” she cried in despair. “Master, please don't-"
The sound of her voice was too much. Roger Caine sank himself between her pussy lips, down deep into her love canal. His heart seized in his chest. Almost at once he began to climax, a quake, breaking down walls he'd spent years putting up. “So ... phee ... a,” he declared, dividing the word into three heavenly bursts.
She moaned in reply. “Yes, baby, yes."
"So fucking good.” The semen poured out of him, like it had been bottled up for years. She took it all, like she'd been born to be its receptacle. Their bodies clung to one another, a perfect fit. Afterward, a million waves overtaking them, they lay together. Beyond speech. Beyond thought.
It was Sophia who spoke first, her limbs entwined with his, deliciously captured. “Keep me,” she said simply.
Roger growled under his breath. It was hardly a yes. But it wasn't a no, either.
EPILOGUE
A very pregnant Erin sat down heavily beside Sophia, massaging her sore back. “Tell me this gets better the third trimester,” she grumbled, shifting on the park bench.
The equally pregnant Sophia laughed lightly, touching her hand to Erin's stomach. “It'll get worse before it gets better, I'm afraid. From the way you're carrying, I'm pretty sure it's a boy, too, and they're harder."
"Wonderful,” she sighed.
Though really it was wonderful. Two babies on the way, their two masters having planted their seeds in the bellies of their beautiful slave girls. The future held all the promise in the world, especially with Roger and Kevin working now as business partners in a brand new overseas venture.
"I suppose this is old hat to you,” speculated Erin as they watched their two masters on the green grass playing catch with Roger and Sophia's other two children.
Sophia beamed proudly as she looked at Roger Junior and Amelia. Having her family back together was the answer to all her prayers. And this time, she was not squandering the opportunity. Roger had given her this second chance, and she would use it to the utmost. “Oh, it never gets old. Each baby is different. A brand new miracle.
"I'll say one thing about pregnancy,” Erin observed with a twinkle in her eye. “It sure has exempted me from a lot of beatings."
Both girls laughed. It was true. Their masters had eased up considerably on the whippings, not to mention some of the other trappings of slavery. In many ways, they were treating them like royalty.
"Roger throws a fit every time I get up for anything,” smiled Sophia.
"Kevin, too,” Erin giggled. “He insists on doing everything for me. It's like being the mistress for a change."
"I know,” Sophia rolled her eyes. “It's so tedious. I'm so glad it won't last."
"Me, too,” agreed Erin.
In their hearts they were slaves. Free life or anything close to it only brought them pain and doubts. They wanted their men to love them as possessions, to take complete responsibility for them. They wanted discipline. Hard fucking and long hours of chores. They wanted the cage and the collar.
Mostly, though, it was about pleasing their husband/masters. This, more than anything fulfilled the two females. As for the men themselves, they were busy loving their wives in the only way they knew how. As owners. Was this life right for everyone? They could hardly say so. But it was right for them.
It made them happy and it gave them peace. Living in this way made them better human beings and parents and citizens. Who was anyone to argue?
Certainly not Sophia and Erin, swept up as they were in a very special kind of fairy tale. Happy brides, living obediently ever after.
THE END
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