Darkest Fantasies

by Raines, Kimberley

  She patted the cheeks of his arse. 'Oh well,' she said, seemingly aware of his thoughts. 'You can't hide your light under a bushel all your life. The poor thing has to learn of your true nature at some time.'

  She pulled a leather hood over his head, buckling him firmly into darkness. He choked briefly as her action forced the ball further into his mouth, then controlled it. What did she mean about Esther learning of his true nature?

  'Good boy,' the woman purred. 'Now, I've another little toy for you. You'll like this. I bought it especially.' He jumped as she ran a sharp-nailed finger down the middle of his back, between his tensed buttocks, and pushed it briefly into his arse. His penis jumped. 'Turn around,' she ordered.

  Reaching between his thighs, her fingers brushed enticingly against his aching balls. Despite his desperate predicament, he shuddered with delicious expectation, and sure enough, she pulled something back through, and as she pulled, something pressed against his anus and entered, sliding in slowly and inexorably. His nostrils flared within the hood as he inhaled deeply, stretched to accommodate whatever it was that penetrated his rectum.

  She fiddled about below, and Kevin felt a sort of stretching and constricting as she tightened leather straps; separating, lifting and squeezing. Then she pulled a strap up to his chest and secured it to the collar. He wriggled experimentally. It felt awful - and it felt wonderful. A wide strap of leather bit into the cheeks of his arse, and he couldn't move a muscle without something pulling uncomfortably on his cock or balls.

  'Nearly there,' she said.

  He groaned. What next?

  She ground his nipples between her fingers, and when he tried to back away she merely tugged the strap which went up his chest. He screamed behind the gag and stepped forward involuntarily as the full force of her persuasion nearly yanked off his undercarriage.

  'You don't make a move unless I tell you to, slave,' she said easily. 'Is that clear?'

  He nodded, and stood obediently still while she attached sprung clips to his nipples. From the strange tension he realised that those, too, must be attached to the rest of the kit.

  'Now, you will walk forward,' she ordered.

  With her hand offering gentle persuasion on the strap at the front, he was extremely careful. He cringed, knowing he was in his own house, going down his own stairs, and that Esther might come in at any moment and find him being humiliated by his mysterious woman - and not for the first time. He wanted to tell her to hurry, to get him out of the house and to wherever they were going.

  They reached the kitchen without mishap, and he heard her open the door to the garage. Esther was the only one who ever used it - for the freezer, and paints and things - but he knew the geography of his own house. Had the black she-cat put her car in it, out of the way of prying neighbour's eyes? He fervently hoped so.

  His bare feet padded quietly on the concrete floor, and she pulled him to a halt. 'Now, spread your legs and stand still,' she ordered curtly. He felt more straps being buckled tightly around his ankles, and the pressure of a stretcher between them. He wondered how she was going to get him in a car like that. 'Just one more refinement,' she said, and he felt his collar tighten even more.

  Now what? He pulled, took an awkward step forward, felt everything tighten as whatever she had clipped to his collar held fast. What the hell was she about?

  'You really are a rather nasty little man, aren't you?' the woman suddenly whispered with apparent loathing. He tensed, wondering if this was where she was going to beat him.

  But the silence lengthened menacingly.

  'You see,' she eventually said out of the darkness, 'I thought it was time your poor wife got to know just what a worm you really are. I'm therefore going to leave you here for her to find.'

  He made muffled, spluttering noises behind the mask.

  'I expect you wondered who phoned you to say your wife was in hospital, didn't you?' she went on, patronising him.

  He froze, waiting to hear more.

  'I also phoned that dear innocent little secretary, Gloria, and told her that her boss had a dose of the clap. I don't think you'll be getting any joy with her, in future.'

  Kevin clenched his fists behind his back. He'd love to get this woman's neck between them. He gave an angry pull at the tough leather, gasped, felt tears spring to his eyes, and waited, breath held, while the pain receded.

  'Do you want to know what else I've done?' He didn't want to know, but she was going to tell him anyway.

  'Well, I've written it all down. The hotels, the dates, the times. And I've left it all on your kitchen table.'

  Kevin made a strangled, pleading noise.

  'She's not stupid,' the taunting continued. 'She'll know what she reads is the truth. The time for retribution is at hand, Kevin. You may or may not like it, depending on how forgiving dear Esther turns out to be.' Her voice dripped sarcasm, and Kevin recalled using those very words not so long ago.

  'Now, I am going to leave a few of my little toys here for your wife. The cane. The bullwhip. The electricity kit. Do you think she'll just come in and release you, Kevin? I don't. I'm sure she'll rise to the occasion in splendid style.' He sensed amusement. 'Probably you will too. Now, goodbye, sweetie.'

  Sure enough she gave a parting tweak at his bonds, making him wince, before he heard her heels clack towards the door, into the kitchen, and away.

  Oh, Jesus, he thought, and began to work at his bonds with utter desperation, only to realise it was hopeless.

  He stood with his legs spread vulnerably in the chilly garage, unable to shuffle more than a step in each direction before something pulled unbearably.

  But he couldn't just accept this humiliation; his naked vulnerability was almost as great a disaster as the letter awaiting Esther in the kitchen. So he twitched and turned, unwittingly causing the strategically placed straps, clips and bungs to do their dastardly work.

  His betraying body tingled with the erotic sensation of leather pressed tight, and his cock swelled as the bung in his arse stretched and tantalised, and his nipples throbbed as the clamps tightened around the tortured buds.

  Oh, the shame of it all. Not only was Esther going to return to find him like something out of a fetish magazine, but she was going to find him proudly and undeniably rampant. He felt like crying, because the discovery would utterly disgust her and drive her from him. It would be the end of their marriage, of that he was convinced. And that was something he'd never wanted.

  He waited in silence, realising how unhappy he felt at the thought of losing his wife. Why had he been such an unfaithful prat?

  The kitchen door slammed.

  He tensed, holding his breath.

  There was a long silence. She was reading the letter. He whimpered. He heard soft footsteps padding towards the garage. There was another uncomfortably long silence. He turned his head to the direction of where he thought the door was. He heard a shocked gasp, and froze. He moaned, hung his head, wanting to hide. But he couldn't, so he stood there like a piece of meat for her to scrutinise, unable even to plead forgiveness.

  'Kevin,' Esther eventually said quietly. 'Kevin, is that you under there?'

  He made feeble noises of repentance.

  'Oh my,' she gasped. 'Oh my, oh my!' He sensed her walk forward, but instead of releasing him she inspected the straps; looking, testing, seeing what moved what and what was attached to where. She brushed against the nipple clamps and touched the strap between his legs that held the plug in his arse.

  'Oh my,' she said again. Only this time he heard the small hint of excitement in her voice.

  Excitement? Esther?

  He listened. She seemed to be walking away. No, she was coming back. He writhed in his bonds. He wanted to plead to be released, to be allowed to explain.

  'Did you do all those things?' she asked softly. 'All those things I've just read?'

  He shook his head frantically, making urgent noises.

  'Liar,' she said firmly.

&nbs
p; He felt the tentative bite of the cane on his thigh. He froze. Esther had hit him? Then it came again, harder. He could almost visualise her standing there, wondering how hard she could - or should - beat him. He could almost see her hardening features as she realised she could do exactly as she pleased to punish him - to extract revenge for the gory details she'd just had to read.

  'Admit it,' she said. This time the cane bit deeper. He yelped, winced twice - once at the cane, the other because he had flinched a fraction too far.

  He knew the next one was going to hurt. He heard the whistle. It landed across his buttocks and made him howl. He tried to turn away, but all he could do was to shuffle around - which he regretted as the next slash bit across his chest, catching one of his pulsing nipples. Through his pain he heard her give a grunt of satisfaction. She was enjoying it! His wife was beating the shit out of him, and was enjoying it! He yanked at the bonds. Just let him get free, and he'd show her who was boss...

  But he couldn't free himself any more now than he could before, and the blows landed steadily and surely. Whichever way he shuffled he wished he hadn't as the cane found increasingly sensitive areas with alarming accuracy. She was not only enjoying it, he discovered, she was getting better at it.

  His muffled cries were ignored, and the more she plied the cane and the more he danced the more the bondage came into play.

  He wasn't sure at which particular stroke he lost his sense of righteous anger, his conception of the rights and wrongs of things; the point at which his body's sexual drive overwhelmed him, stopped him from thinking; the time when the slashes became a pleasure, and his constricted cock and balls were throbbing with a bursting need to be massaged.

  His indignant cries turned to groans. Oh, touch me, he was whimpering inside his head, and his hands were fingers were clenching and unclenching behind his back with the need to finish the job - with the pleasure of not being able to do so.

  Suddenly, out of the darkness he sensed a change. She stopped beating him. He moaned again, but this time because he wanted her to carry on, to beat him into sexual submission. His erection was vast and in need of relief. What was she doing?

  He gasped as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he leaned back as she lowered herself onto his rampant cock, each leg lifted in turn and clenched around his hips. Once tightly wrapped against his trussed body she began to glide slowly up and down on his straining erection. It was all he could do to stand with his parted legs locked, his muscles straining as she rode him - as Esther, his wife, rode him like a seasoned breaker. He could do nothing but stand and accept, until the time came when his own tension rose like a geyser from within and could not be suppressed any longer. With gritted teeth and a heartfelt groan he shot his load, and with an equally loud cry Esther came too, wilting against his sweating chest, her face sinking to his sweating shoulder.

  After a few minutes she climbed from him and they both breathed heavily in the silence. Fingers fumbled at his hood, lifted it a bit and removed the ball gag. He groaned with relief and worked some movement into his jaw.

  'Esther... honey?' he eventually said tentatively.

  There was a short silence, and then the unexpected swish of the cane. 'I've always hated being called honey,' she said venomously. 'I've told you that so many times and you just wouldn't listen. Well, now you have to listen, don't you?'

  'Esther...' he simpered, 'will you let me down, please? I can explain.'

  'Hah! This should be good,' she sneered. 'So, explain.'

  He didn't like the cynicism he heard. 'Esther, it wasn't true, what that woman—!'

  The vicious cut of the cane silenced him. 'Don't lie,' she said firmly. 'You are not in a very safe position for lying, are you?'

  'Esther, you let me down this minute!' he ventured.

  'I'll let you down when I'm good and ready.'

  'Esther,' he said firmly. 'You don't know what you're saying. You're shocked, but I can—'

  'Shut up.'

  He couldn't believe his ears; couldn't believe the way his wife was talking to him and how she was behaving. 'Honey, this is all a silly mistake. Just let me—'

  Again the savage cane cut him short.

  'I warned you not to call me honey!'

  The sting of the cane made him hiss. 'Esther... darling,' he croaked, 'I've been abused today—'

  'The other women, the weekends away - they will, of course, stop immediately.'

  'But—!' the cane cut down again and he lurched, the leather bonds creaking as he wailed in anguish.

  'You'll learn eventually,' she said grimly. 'Now, the truth.'

  Between the odd hint of less than gentle persuasion, he told all. His spirits sank lower and lower as he realised just how much that bitch had told his wife, how much she was just asking him to confirm.

  'Now,' Esther said when he'd finished. 'Let's get one thing straight. If I let you go, you promise to be faithful to me?'

  'I - I promise,' he said meekly.

  'Because I've taken just about enough from you, and I won't have it any more.' She unbuckled the hood and pulled it from him completely.

  Kevin blinked against the sudden light and frowned, confused. He was in his own garage, and yet... he was also in the lair of the bitch, and before him stood the bitch in person. In the same clothes as she had been wearing earlier, minus the lacy knickers. Very slowly, she reached up and removed her hood. 'Oh... my God,' he said in shocked wonder.

  Esther smiled at him; a curious mixture of carnal knowledge and innocence. 'Yes, I'm the bitch,' she said. 'And from now on I will be a bitch whenever you need me to be. And,' she stressed, 'whenever you forget who you're married to.' She walked to the wall and released the ratchet that was holding him to the pulley system. 'You, in turn, will please me whenever I want you to.'

  He stared at her, bemused. 'But I thought I did?'

  'Well,' she said thoughtfully, 'after the dinner, in the woods - I have to admit you pleased me then.'

  'You knew it was me? You didn't mind?'

  Esther was delighted by the pitiful expression on her husband's face. He looked like a little lost boy. 'My dear,' she said, her confidence increasing all the time, 'I asked you to do it, and of course I enjoyed it - you were there, remember? I'm a red-blooded girl and I sometimes love to be tied up and rough sex, just like you do. Why you assume I won't like something when you do, I can't fathom.'

  He tried to digest everything, his head in a spin. 'And in the van, you liked that?'

  'Of course, silly,' she said, trying to disguise her astonishment. That had been him, too?

  Now he was looking less worried, and more interested. 'And you want me to do things like that again?'

  'Sometimes I'll just want you to make love to me, because I love you. But now and then I'll want you to tie me up and whip me as I tied you up and whipped you. I'll want you to abuse me. But most of all, from now on we are married in every sense of the word. Do you understand?'

  Kevin lowered his eyes and nodded, suddenly feeling ashamed of his history of infidelity and cursing himself for foolishly ignoring his lovely wife and risking their marriage. As Esther knelt to release the ties around his ankles he gazed down at her beauty and felt breathless feelings of love well up inside. She really was quite a girl. He'd never fool around again.

  Esther felt euphoric that her plan had achieved such a complete success. She just knew that she'd won her husband back, that from now on he'd be totally loyal and attentive, cherishing what he had. She glanced up and caught him looking down at her. Her wide eyes sparkled and her soft voice was seductive as she said, 'And as for the abduction in the van... that was a brainwave. I was so turned on...'

  As soon as she'd spoken she knew something was wrong. Kevin looked blank, and her stomach sank as he said, 'Abduction? What van?'

  -oOo-

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  He felt the rubber-gloved fingers encircling, then gripping, his massive length. The harsh staccato of the spanking hand continued to bark aloud across his crimson buttocks, and the gloved hand milked him rhythmically. Burning and squirming in his shame and pain, the milkman tensed and jerked his bottom up, as if desirous of harsher discipline. His neck strained against the hand that pinned it down and he squeezed his thighs together, screamed a smothered cry of anguished delight and came, squirting his liquid release noisily into the plastic jug...

  A milkman's work is never done - what with all those ripe young housewives begging for an extra delivery. Sometimes it seems they just can't get enough. And when he's invited in to Number Nine to find a total of four scantily-clad women with just one thing on their mind, he knows he's going to have a job fulfilling their orders...

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