“Stuart has begged for another chance to serve me Evan. What do you think about that?“ Becky smiles at Evan on his return.
“I don’t know Mistress Becky.” he mumbles, brown eyes glancing uncertainly at her. Undeniably handsome yet ‘characterless’ features color up as he hands his ‘Mistress’ her fuchsia riding crop and a black shoe box.
Saddness floods me at the sight of the whip. The one she once bought solely for use on my flesh. It seems so long ago.
Then the thought hits me. Am I to be flogged in front of my ‘replacement’?
“Your little wifey thinks you’re out golfing with my Dominic again doesn’t she Evan?” Becky places the shoe box behind her on the granite worktop. She extends an arm and taps Evan’s bare chest with the leather tip of her riding crop. His face turns a deeper shade of scarlet and he lowers his head.
“Stuart here has offered to pay me a monthly tribute regardless of whether or not I make use of him. Isn’t that right Stuart?”
I’m not sure that’s exactly what I offered, but I nod my head regardless.
“And,“ she crooks her finger at me for me to move closer, “He’s going to settle my credit card bill as well before he leaves here today. Aren’t you Stuart?“ With the whip she directs me to stop a few feet in front of her. She leans towards me on the stool and her majestic breasts roll forward, listing inside her low neckline. I stifle a groan and feel my cock start to harden.
With her tongue poking from one corner of her beautiful mouth, Becky begins little underarm upward strokes of the riding crop between my legs.
“Isn’t that right Stuart?” the crop slaps into my testicles; faster, harder each time.
“Yes, yes, yes Becky!” I gasp, shoulders hunching at the pain as my shaft itself is struck. Momentarily I don’t care that a third person is witnessing my pain and shame.
“Even though it’s a four-figure-sum?” She demands, off the stool now and swiping the riding crop into my groin with each of the last 3 syllables.
“Yes Becky, yes, yes Becky, anything, I’d do anything for you!” I croak back at her, staggering from her strikes yet simultaneously trying to inhale her perfume.
“Spread your legs so I can hit you harder.” she says flatly.
I shuffle my bare feet apart on the cool tiles.
“And you’re still prepared to do absolutely anything to please me?” She jerks her arm upward. My groin is lashed again with the riding crop.
My breath is gone. I think I might faint!
Its several seconds before I can nod my response.
“I can’t hear you Stuart” she whispers,
“Yes Becky.”
“So say it Stuart!” Her voice rises, sounding angry now.
“Yes Becky yes, I’ll do anything for you, anything.” I wince through the stinging between my legs.
“Good.” She takes her place back on the stool and crosses her impossibly long legs
I’m panting, gritting my teeth trying to regain some composure. My cock and balls stinging like they’re on fire. Still, my eyes are pulled to the sculpted, heavenly shape of Becky’s calves. They drift down, caressing the parts of her delicate feet visible between the straps of her shoes.
“Then you won’t object to me having Evan beat you for my pleasure will you Stuart?” She smiles at me and holds out the riding crop to Evan.
I must be hearing things.
Evan, still standing perfectly to attention for her (in contrast to me, with my shoulders slumped) - takes the crop by its handle.
She’s not serious.
“Evan is still new to all this. He’s learning how to act out his submissive fantasies. So I get to mould him, to train him to my liking don’t I Evan?” Becky smiles secretively at Evan then raises her coffee cup to those luscious lips.
“Yes Mistress Becky.”
He sounds like a robot. What an idiot.
She’s going to let this idiot beat me?
“He may not be fully developed yet as far as being my slave is concerned,” She puts her cup down on the granite then crooks her finger beckoning Evan closer to her. She leans forward breasts surging like the ripest, smoothest of treasures. She lowers her shoulders and reaches between Evan’s muscular legs.
“As you’ve seen though Stuart,” she looks directly at me, pupils dilated as her hand reaches Evans balls. “Evan is fully developed in other areas – aren’t you Evan?” Slowly, still holding my gaze, she begins massaging his testicles, her lips parting slightly.
Evan groans and closes his eyes.
Why doesn’t she just leave his cock alone? Literally, I could cry.
“Whip him for me Evan,” those lips say, her hands still fondling his balls, “10 strokes.” Her voice is soft. “Do it hard Evan, hurt him for me.”
Chapter Seven
“Kneel for him Stuart,” Becky points to the kitchen tiles in front of her stool. I want to protest, to argue about the coming abomination of being beaten by another man for her. How can I? I’ve sworn there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I can’t lose her. There’s nothing I can say or do.
Except of course there is. I could so easily refuse to stick my ‘ass out’ like I’m being told to while I wait down on my knees for Evan with Becky’s whip. I could leap to my feet and tell them they ‘have to be kidding!’ I should be a man and laugh in Becky’s face. Tell her she can pay her own fucking bills – or get this loser Evan to do it for her. I should get dressed; help myself to a drink and stay here, refusing to budge until my wife reappears. When she does, I should drag her home with me for good. Get straight on the phone to sort out the removal of that hideous, insane tattoo - or whatever it is they can do to hide such atrocities.
I should do any or all of these. Instead I don’t. I do none of them. I lower my shoulders towards Becky’s kitchen floor and rest my head on my hands, against her cold tiles.
“Spread your legs wide for him!” Becky is up off her stool and kicks repeatedly at the inside of my ankles. “There,” she says, “More for you to aim at.” Her heels click back across the room and she takes her place on her stool facing me. I want to look up at her bare legs.
“Beat him Evan”.
I tense my whole body in readiness.
Air slashed. My ass. Eyes full of stars. Such pain. Hips. Again.
“Harder, hit him harder!” Becky yells excitedly.
Air torn again. Flesh cracked. My back! I cry out.
“No noise Stuart, keep quiet!” Becky yells again. Two thudding sounds and her heels have dropped onto the tiles. Becky’s bare feet ahead. Purple toenails...
My body bucks wildly. I’m hit again. My ass. Then again. Ass! Hip!
When will this end?
Please let it stop!
Becky’s feet have scrunched up, her little toes curling. The light catches her toe ring. I screw up my face and shoulders. My head moves erratically and I glance inadvertently further upward.
As Becky watches wide-eyed, her hands are over the front of her blouse, on her breasts. Her nipples have visibly stiffened through her boot-lace top and bra.
“That’s 10 Mistress Becky” Evan says eventually.
Thank God. My face is pressed down onto my forearms. I move my hips rapidly from side to side, trying anything to ease the burning sensations all over my rear.
To be fair to Evan – I was expecting worse; given that he’s a man. Either he was holding back, or Becky must go crazy with a whip in her hand.
The doorbell sounds over me trying to get my breath back.
“Wait exactly where you are; both of you - while I see who that is.” Her nipples are still proud beneath her top as she slips her heels back on and goes through to the hall.
I don’t know whether to take cover and hide in case she brings someone else into the house. Instead I obey her, keeping my head down while I seep shame and embarrassment.
From the hallway comes my wife’s voice. Shit! I don’t want her to see me like this.
I’m h
urriedly getting to my feet when Becky reappears with Lynne. My wife is carrying two bags of food shopping. She stops in her tracks when our eyes meet.
“Who told you to get off your knees Stuart?” Becky’s brow tightens.
“No-one Becky. I just thought...” I freeze, half way between crouching and standing.
“Do me a favour will you Stuart? Leave the thinking to me. Now get back down on all fours .” She stabs an index finger at the ground and faces my wife.
“Your husband called here uninvited Lynne so I’ve had Evan discipline him.” Becky lies and snatches the riding crop out of Evan’s hand. “Put the food away now for me please Lynne. You know how much I hate an untidy house.” She gestures with the whip.
I move my head to study my wife. Even her ears have turned red.
“I wasn’t expecting you back so soon Lynne,” Becky says, her voice suddenly softer. “But now you’re here, you’re just in time to see a little something I’ve had in mind since Stuart arrived.” She glances down at me, eyes blazing.
“Evan did such a good job on his first task for me that I just know your husband will want to thank him. Won’t you Stuart?” her heels click across the tiles towards Evan.
Thank him? What the hell is she talking about?
I watch from my knees as Becky’s beautifully elegant hand encircles Evan’s brutish semi-erection. My stomach churns with envy. Her knuckles whiten and she tightens her grip. Evan moans.
“Come with me” she says softly to this tall, chiselled man who has usurped me. She leads him by his cock towards me. I lower my head to the ground.
“Now now Stuart, don’t you dare shrink away. You have some serious gratitude to show don’t you?” I twist my head on the ground and Evan’s bare legs and thighs tower above me. Beyond the pair of tight balls bouncing like pale Seville oranges, his thick cock is being shaken up and down in Becky’s grip.
“Kneel up for me Stuart.” Becky says impatiently. Her eyes are wide, pupils dilated. Across the room, my wife has dropped the shopping bags at her feet and leans back against a kitchen worktop, as if for support.
“I want you to take it in your mouth,” Becky’s shiny fingernails trace up the length of Evan’s now-erect cock. Behind them both, Lynne clasps one of her hands over her mouth.
I stare up at Becky in disbelief. Her eyes glitter and her mouth opens a touch, revealing her pearly white, perfectly even teeth. There’s no way I can look at Evan’s face but he doesn’t seem to react to hearing Becky’s words – except for having stiffened.
“Becky..” I gaze up at her, shaking my head in horror. Her eyes glare down, locking onto mine. A tense-looking half-smile dances on her lips
“I couldn’t Becky, I mean I’ve never....” I shake my head. On the other side of the room Lynne’s free hand is now gripping the edge of the worktop behind her.
“And yet you’ve been quite happy for your wife to suck off anyone she’s been asked to, haven’t you Stuart?” Becky’s face blackens.
“But...but...” I stammer
“But nothing Stuart!” She stamps a beautiful foot and slender, elegant fingers flex around the monstrous weapon in her hand. She’s clearly angry now.
“You promised there was nothing you wouldn’t do for me Stuart. Well this is your chance to prove it.” She shakes his cock in my face.
Now I do look at Evan and although he’s keeping his eyes dead ahead; his lips suggest the slightest of smirks.
“And if you won’t do it for me Stuart...then you know where the door is don’t you?”
I can’t do this. Not this. Anything but this. What am I supposed to do? How do I keep her interested in me without giving her what she’s demanding? This unspeakable act?
My whole head feels ready to explode. My stomach wants to heave with nausea.
“Nobody’s going to think your gay or a sissy Stuart. You’re doing this because it’s what I want. Anyway; you never know,” she smiles slyly down at me, “You might enjoy it. Now take it in your mouth!” Becky yells and reaches down at me with her free hand. She grabs me roughly by the ear and pulls me upward. Her breasts thrust forward in her blouse, swinging close to my head. For a moment my eyes are distracted from the terrible sight closing in on me.
What choice do I have? Do I even have a choice?
“Come on,” she coaxes, her voice is soothing as she guides the shiny smooth pink fist of Evan’s cock head towards my closed lips.
“Don’t worry; I won’t let him in cum in your mouth. I just want you to show me how far you’re prepared to go for me. Now open wide.” She nods her head like a nurse trying to get a geriatric to take their medicine.
“I can’t Becky, I’ll do anything, anything else”
“No Stuart, you’ll do this.”
I can’t lose her. I have to do it. Oh God no.
I want to close my eyes. I don’t see what’s happening but I don’t want to look like I’m savoring the act. So I keep my eyes open. My shoulders tremble uncontrollably as Evan bends his knees slightly and pushes his hips forward.
I open my mouth. It touches my lips and I want to spit and slap it away.
“Good boy.“ Still holding on to my ear, Becky is grinning down, her wonderfully shaped eyebrows raised as she watches.
I keep my hands well away from him. One on top of each of my thighs. In slow stages I inch my mouth open. Becky’s bare legs so near to me I could touch them. She guides the underside of Evan’s awful veiny erection onto my tongue. I almost gag at the tangy sensation before realizing there is no such taste. My fear must have imagined it. She releases my ear.
“Suck Stuart!” Becky raises her arm and the riding crop is in her hand.
Now I can’t help but close my eyes. I wince but the blow doesn’t come. Instead, I’m gagging. My mouth is stretched and filled. I’m shaking my head.
Evan grunts. He pushes and screws his cock in. Too far! I almost panic. I half-retch. It reaches the top of my throat. I’m going to choke! “
“Suck him Stuart; do it for me.” The whip whizzes through the air. Pain. Pain on my already chastised behind. I suck, I suck, I don’t care. Keep my hands at my sides. The perverse sensation of something so solid, so hard in my mouth. I suck the way I’ve seen my wife do. I bob my head forward then back. The pubic hair above his groin tickling me under my nose. He’s pumping his hips. Balls slapping my chin. Mustn’t touch it with my teeth. His hands on my head, working me like a piston. A hateful, guttural noise, like someone being repeatedly sick. I realize the sound is coming from me.
I look up and Becky is twisting one of his nipples, breathing over him, planting kisses like butterfly wings on his throat. She’s trying to make him cum!
Chapter Eight
Becky must sense my panic and Evan’s impending orgasm. She pushes him away from me before it can happen. A huge string of my own saliva lashes my face as his dick springs free. Evan stumbles, panting with frustration, his climax stopped in its tracks.
“God that was hot,” Becky says, her face and throat flushed. “It was tempting to let you cum – but I need you desperate to please me don’t I Evan? “ She ruffles his dark hair.
“You did well for me Stuart.” she says without looking at me.
Crazily, for a moment, pride surges through me. My shame and self loathing momentarily dented before I come to my senses.
“Please may I wash out my mouth Becky?” I stagger to my feet in a daze.
“Take this and put it on while you’re in there,” Becky retrieves my chastity belt, padlock and key from the shoebox and tosses them at me.
“And this.” She holds up a small, deceptively harmless-looking semi-circle of plastic between two polished fingernails. The ‘points of intrigue,’ to place inside the cock cage for maximum discomfort should I get aroused. She flings it down at me while I’m collecting the chastity belt parts from her floor.
In the laundry room I rinse out my mouth under the tap over and over again. Spitting and spitting until I can�
�t do it anymore. My hands and fingers tremble around my shrunken cock as I snap the padlock in place. I let out a deep sigh of relief. It feels so good. This is the way I was always meant to be. Bondage weighing heavily between my legs. A constant reminder that Becky controls me and denies me any sexual relief.
I hear the moans of pleasure on my way back to the kitchen, well before I arrive there.
Becky on her stool with her skirt rolled up to her waist. Legs spread wide, a bare foot on either side of the stool foot-rail. White lace panties around one alabaster ankle. Evan and my wife, now both stripped, kneel between her legs. Their heads like nodding dogs, feeding at and obscuring the paradise between her thighs.
Slurping, heavy breathing, moaning, panting. Slurping. I feel irrelevant, an inconvenience.
“Typical male,” Becky’s eyes flicker open at me, “No idea how submissive your wife really is have you Stuart? She’s almost as keen to please me as you are.” Her voice is sing-song but thick, sleepy sounding. She smiles to herself and one of her hands roams idly through Lynne’s hair.
She closes her eyes again, bare hips undulating as the twin heads continue to feast noisily from her. Why have I never been allowed this?
Lynne pushes out her bare ass, and its obvious one hand is between her legs, playing with herself.
I think I’m going to faint.
“Get on your knees in the corner Stuart.” Becky’s eyes quiver again. Her hands are massaging her swollen breasts through her blouse.
“Three slaves,“ she murmurs, her eyes closing.
I push the cock cage and spikes away from my swelling tool.
The front door slams. Evan stops moving between his ‘Mistresses’ long legs. Lynne seems oblivious; her head nodding rabidly, like she’s on amphetamines
“Relax,” says Becky, “It’s only Dominic.”
It is and he grins like a Cheshire cat when he enters the kitchen.
“Fuck me Beck; what are you like?” He throws his car keys down on a worktop. Almost in the same movement, his hands are at the belt of his trousers.
Led By Her 8: A Dominant Female Submissive Male, Group Humiliation & Sharing Tale Page 4