by Trent Evans
“Breathe out now.”
As she exhaled, he fitted the implement to the base of her clit, the congested bead now an angry red as it bulged under the stricture. He pulled gently on the silver chain linking the two clamps affixed to the tender lips of her sex. “Be a very good girl, and you won’t have to wear these long.” He slapped her ass. “In the corner.”
He savored the way the chain swung between her thighs, her mincing gait testifying to the tightness of the nasty little clamps, the yoga pants, still stretched around her knees, making her take small steps as she took her place.
“Hands on the wall. Higher. Hollow your back and present that pussy properly. More! I want to see those clamps.”
Palms spread on the painted surface above her, she stayed very still, her panted breaths betraying the arduousness of both the clamps and the position.
Unable to restrain himself enough to watch her from the couch, he paced behind her, his cock angrily throbbing, fingering the clamps now and then to the accompaniment of her frantic yelps. He smiled at the way the chain gently swayed between her lush thighs, her round bottom cheeks twitching above.
He could stand the wait no longer though, taking hold of her upper arm. “Hands on your head.”
Dragging her along with him once more, he took her into his office, pressing her over his desk until her full breasts pillowed below her, smooth pale curves blooming out to each side of her heaving rib cage. He stroked her back for a while, his fingertips playing through the sweat gathering in the trough of her spine. Cooing at her, he whispered admonishments to breathe, to calm, to be his good girl.
Crouching down behind her, he pulled her pants down the rest of the way, helping her out of them. Plucking the cute little thong out of the tangle of clothing on the floor, he dropped into his chair behind her. He loved the way she stayed so quiet and still for him.
Her obedience only encouraged him to be rougher with her.
It was something he didn’t quite understand, but it was a phenomenon that both of them had come to accept.
Unzipping his fly, he groaned as he pulled his tortured cock from his slacks. He worked the humid slip of lace over the head of his penis, masturbating with it as he looked upon her soft, round buttocks quivering before him as they awaited whatever torments he still had planned.
“You’re my good girl, Lacey.” He continued stroking as he spoke to her. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” Her voice was muffled, his bewitching wife hiding her face in her folded arms upon the desk.
“Does your pussy hurt?”
“Yes… sir.”
“Good, good. It’s supposed to, sweet girl.”
She shuddered as he used the tip of a finger to set the chain to swinging again, his fist drawing the lace up and down the length of his shaft. Soon, the thong was sticky with his precome, and he was sorely tempted to spray his seed all over them.
Time enough for that another day.
He slipped them into his pocket, his veined erection, red and angry, bobbing in his lap.
“Do you want those nasty clamps off?” He leaned forward in his chair, blowing air over her inflamed pussy, making Lacey shiver.
“Yes, sir. Please.”
“Do you think you’ve been obedient enough?”
“Yes, sir…”
Making her wait a long moment, he smiled at the way she seemed to hang upon his verdict, her body still, muscles taut.
“I agree, Lacey.”
The sound of her soft sigh made his cock jerk.
He patted her bottom, taking hold of the first clamp affixed to one of her lips. “This isn’t going to feel good. Ready?”
“Y-yes, sir.” Her voice was anxious, tight.
Slipping the clamp off, he caressed her ass as she groaned loudly. “Breathe through it, girl. Breathe…”
“Now, the next one. Here it comes.”
She gasped, her bottom cheeks squeezing tight as she dealt with the pain.
“Almost over now.” As he grasped the tiny implement squeezing her clit, he could hear her labored breaths suddenly catch. “This is the worst one. Be brave, now.”
Pulling the clip off, he stroked her sex as she squealed, his touch helping to rub the blood back into her sensitive tissues. She swallowed down a sob, her fingernails digging into the skin of her forearms.
“Oh, fuckkkk,” she whispered, desperation in her voice.
He let her calm down a bit, the shuddering of her body subsiding to a subtle quiver, all the while caressing her inflamed pussy, his fingers soaked with her juices despite the pain of having the clamps removed.
Taking firm hold of her ponytail again, he brought her to her feet once more. He turned her around, cupping her chin and kissing her hard. He stared down into her tear-bright eyes, then pressed his lips softly to her forehead. “Never more than you can handle, sweet girl. But we’re not done.”
He gazed at her, raising an eyebrow in question. She’d never actually spoken the word, the only thing that would stay his hand, short circuit the dark, sadistic ritual her maintenance sessions had evolved into.
But as always, she seemed to rise to the challenge, as if yielding in that way would somehow be a failing. They’d had long talks about it before, and he’d made it clear such a thing was anything but a weakness.
Still, to this day, the word had never passed her lips, no matter the torments he’d put her through — and still had planned for her yet.
My sweet, yielding Lacey.
“Yes, sir.” Her throat worked as she peered up at him. “I… I will obey.”
He brushed her temple with his lips, his cock feeling as if it might explode at the sound of the tremble in her voice. “Up on the desk then. Knees wide.”
Helping her up, she sat facing him, her blush blooming on her pretty face as he pulled her hips to the edge, tucking her heels against her bottom cheeks and pressing her legs still further apart. She looked away, her cheeks scarlet as he dropped his gaze to her presented pussy, the lips red, swollen. Her clit was so engorged he swore he could see it pulsing, the tip pushing out from under the protective hood, the flesh there inflamed. He touched that mouthwatering morsel and she jumped.
“Hurting?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then let’s do something about that, shall we?”
Reaching into one of his drawers, he kept his gaze locked with hers.
Lacey’s beautiful eyes went wide when he held up the thin leather strap.
“Oh, please, Tr—”
He shook his head slowly, glaring at her. “Unless you’re saying it, there’s nothing you can do about it. Now, be a good girl for me.”
She swallowed hard, her face paling. Then she closed her eyes, and gave him a tiny nod.
Made for a very specific sort of discipline, the strap was almost velvet soft, and supremely flexible. Perfect for the torment he had in mind for his gorgeous wife.
Moving to her side, tucking one of her knees under his arm to hold her in place — and open to his ministrations — he touched her hard little clit again, rubbing it in gentle circles. Though he knew it was sore, he could also see the telltale letdown of the thick, clear fluids from her slit, her wetness slickening her perineum until it glistened bright. Once he had her hips beginning to buck, he brought the strap down crisply against her inner thigh, close to her sex.
Her eyes flew open, then she squeezed them shut with a gasp. He said nothing, continuing to rub her sore clit, as he brought the strap down against her other thigh with a crisp crack.
She gritted her teeth as he treated both thighs to two more viper quick strikes apiece. He glided a palm over the splotchy crimson marks left behind upon her tender flesh.
Her breathing was devolving into almost continuous pained moans as he took up a steady, targeted strapping of the alabaster flesh of her inner thighs. His fingers swirled over her clit, and her head fell back, only to snap right up again with a tight scream as he cracked the leather directly ove
r his fingers, the tip snapping down against the lower half of her slit. Back and forth he strapped her thighs, then pulled his hand away from her clit only to have the soft strap slap down directly upon her pussy. He alternated this way, wringing hoarse cries from her at each blow. Putting his fingers back to rubbing the well-strapped clit, he worked her thighs until they were a congested bright red, Lacey’s lips babbling incoherent pleas, her head thrashing from side to side.
“A couple more, bad girl,” he said, gently squeezing her impossibly swollen clit. She keened.
A harsh blow followed, leaving a livid line of deep pink across her left thigh, and she shrieked, her eyes finally brimming over, a fat glistening tear slipping down her flushed cheek
He kissed it, whispering against her skin, lust, and possession, swelling within him. “Last one.”
With the loudest strike yet, the leather branded the opposite thigh with a deep crimson bar of hurt, Lacey’s face awash in tears as she cried out, her voice breaking.
“Oh pleaseohpleaseohplease!”
“Shhh, your strapping’s over, girl. All over. All over now…”
Dropping the leather onto the desk, he gently stroked the heat of her punished thighs, not for one second relenting on working her clit the entire time. He knew the storm of contradictory sensation was a torment all in itself, but he was determined to bring her through it, regardless. When she had her hips bucking wantonly, despite the fact she was openly weeping, he relented, and she blew out a long, strained breath, sagging back upon the desk.
He eased her off, holding her against him as she wobbled on unsteady legs. Taking hold of a fistful of her hair, he turned her face up to his, and he tasted her lips, savoring the salty evidence of her surrender, reveling in his mastery of her all over again. He knew he was a sadistic prick for enjoying this so much, but in Lacey he’d found the other half that made the two of them whole, the woman who was the key to opening up something special and terrible between them, something that none other needed to know about.
But what if that’s not enough for her?
The thought sprang unbidden into his mind, and he dismissed it. There would be a time, but now wasn’t it.
He tipped her chin up, and her brimming eyes peered at him through tear-soaked lashes, a sight so beautiful he simply looked on in awed lust for a moment. She never looked more beautiful than that sweet moment when he’d compelled her surrender, when she’d allowed him to make of her what he willed.
And took them both to a world of dark dreams.
“I want you, Lace.” He kissed her savagely again, his tongue plundering her mouth, taking, owning. He clasped her around the throat and she went very still, her bright, liquid eyes going wide, the pupils dilating. “I need you. And I will have you.”
Incredibly, she flashed a small tentative smile, another tear spilling over, and splashing down her cheek. It was all he needed.
Using her hair like a rein, he spun her around, his weight pinning her thighs to the front of the desk, bending her tightly over it. He drove into her fiery wetness, making her gasp. Twisting his fist in her hair, he cranked her head back, forcing her body into an arch, already thrusting hard.
In moments, he was pounding into her, the head of his cock knocking upon the entrance to her womb, something he knew was both heaven and hell for his Lacey. She let out a strangled yelp as he let go of her hair, switching to grip her throat, her sex squeezing him even tighter as he rocked her body against the stout desk, taking her brutally hard now.
With a last flurry of desk-creaking slams of his hips against hers, he came, groaning out his tortured release, hot seed flooding into her, stars winking behind his eyes, his head swimming. He pulled out the greedy clench of her sex drawing one last spurt from him, painting a thick, viscous line of seed across the reddened, well-punished slit. He used the head of his cock to rub the semen into her, coating her mound, until her pubic hair glistened with it.
For long seconds, he drew in great gusts of breath, his hands planted on either side of her prostrate form, his dangling, half-erect cock leaving a trail of wetness upon the curve of her ass.
Pulling her up from the desk, he folded her into his arms then, her entire body quivering. She buried her face against his chest, her tears soaking the fabric of his dress shirt to his skin. He stroked her back for a long while, just holding her, murmuring to her, until she calmed.
Finally, he smoothed her hair off her tear-streaked cheek. “I think we need a bath.”
Chapter 14
The sight of her round breasts bobbing in the water seemed to distract him as he watched her, his gaze locking with hers, then slipping down once more as if he couldn’t resist. She arched her back a little, pushing them further above the surface, taking secret delight in his quiet torment.
His eyes, so dark, so keen, fascinated her, the way the power of his gaze seemed to pin her in place, compelling her to hold still for his perusal. The water lapped at her chin as she lay back, her head propped on the back edge of the deep, expansive jetted tub.
Once he’d slipped her into the embrace of the bubbling warmth, he’d allowed himself to sit upon the edge, first divesting himself of his clothing then dipping his feet into the bath. The water reflected shimmering light against the long, thick muscles of his thighs, his balls hanging down between them, heavy and swollen.
They didn’t speak a word as he washed her, their only communication her soft moans as he touched her carefully, her tight hisses as he applied the cloth to the areas he’d punished most. Eventually, she was nothing but languid yielding, her bones seeming to melt from her body, leaving only quiet, sweet compliance to his touch, his caresses, his desires.
His cock came up again as he settled her back into the water, her heart skipping a beat as she watched it engorge. She touched it gently, and he allowed it, knowing how much she loved playing with him. The heavenly feel of his veined, rigid shaft in her hand restarted the stirring between her legs, her clit taking up a pained throb, still angry at the vicious attentions of clamp and leather strap.
One of his black brows arched. “You sure you want to keep doing that? That pussy of yours is already sore enough, isn’t it?”
She smiled at him, knowing the truth of it, and yet that knowledge didn’t stop her from coursing her hand slowly up and down that thick, heavy penis. It was impossible for her to resist. “I’ll take my chances.”
And it was a distraction of her own, sweet though it certainly was.
The idea had been budding, growing in her mind, a confusing, forbidden conflict she hadn’t a clue how to resolve. The shock of her little revelation at the store with Hunter only made it worse.
Only made what worse? Figuring out how to get Hunter right with his wife — or conniving a way to get him into your bed?
It wasn’t close to that simple though. Not even close.
“We… we have to help Hunter somehow.”
“You’re going to bring Hunter up while you’re stroking my cock?”
She peered up at him, affecting her most coquettish look. “Do you want me to stop?”
His eyes narrowed, but his lips quirked into a smile. “You’d be in trouble all over again if you did that.”
She giggled, giving him a nice squeeze that had the tendons at the base of his neck twitching.
“What is it you think we have to help Hunter with?”
The way his eyes keenly watched her made her suspect he knew far more than he was letting on.
“He told her, Troy. And it didn’t go over well. At all.”
He shook his head, looking down. “Fucking knew it.”
“You did?”
“Some people, they… they just don’t get it. You know? Sara — well, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if she were one of those people. Explaining kink to them… it’s a canyon that can’t be bridged.”
“Waxing philosophical now?” She used her thumb to rub just under the head of his cock, where he was the most sensitive, his breath
catching, his jaw tight.
“Bad girl.”
Her winning smile had him shaking his head indulgently. “Yes, sir. Would you want me any other way?”
“Other than you draped over the side of this tub, with your ass in the air? No.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the imagery.
They both knew Hunter was indeed kinky — perhaps even as pervy as they were.
God, I hope so.
She needed to tell Troy — she knew that — but she was just as sure it wasn’t yet time. There was still plenty of room to make a fucking hot mess of all of this, for an alluring, tempting idea to turn into a heartbreaking, wrecking ball.
That was the last thing Hunter — or any of them — needed now. No, she needed to figure this out. There was one thing that was already clear, a conclusion she’d already drawn, even as she knew it potentially posed more danger to just a friendship. That fact didn’t dissuade the power the notion had on her heart — and her pussy.
She wanted Hunter.
But she didn’t want him to the exclusion of her wonderful husband, someone she knew she could never, ever, live without.
It was hard enough to admit the truth of it herself, but it was even worse than that, even more hopeless.
You’re such a selfish bitch. Delusional too.
No, she didn’t just want Hunter. She wanted them both.
“Hey, you’re a thousand miles away.” Troy took hold of her wrist, pulling her hand from his now very hard, very erect cock. It twitched, high and angry red, in time with his pulse.
She almost whined at having it taken away.
He placed her hand on the hard, massive muscles of his thigh though, his fingers slowly tracing the lengths of her own. “What is it?”
After what happened that night at the grocery store, there seemed a good chance there was a mutual attraction there. But what sort was it? Male and female friends often felt some latent sexual attraction. Nothing unusual — or particularly noteworthy — about that. Was that all this was, or was there really something there between them?
The real unknown — even if Troy and Hunter agreed to it — was what it might mean for their relationship. Could she really imagine herself with someone other than Troy? The answer was an emphatic no — but this wasn’t being with someone other than Troy.