“Ah, there!” she screamed. “RIGHT THERE, YOU BASTARD.” Her pace increased and he struggled to keep up, tongue twitching and flicking her little bean, swirling and going wherever she seemed to crush into his face. Her breathing became a pant and then suddenly, she froze and clenched, a wave of juices hitting his face, filling his mouth, his tongue trying to lick her clit as she spurted all over him.
God, she'd never done this before. Where the hell had this woman been hiding? He couldn't wait to get his own release, his balls aching and his ass in need of a good smack.
She climbed off him, patted his cheek, and said, “Good boy.” Then she stood and started to walk away.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Where are you going, MISTRESS!” she yelled.
“Where are you going, Mistress?”
“I’m going to bed now, Worm,” Jennifer told Declan.
“What? But what about ME?” Declan yelled.
“What do you mean? You’ve got a blanket, food and water. What more does a dog need?” Jennifer replied.
“But, but...” God, his balls ached.
“There you go,” Jennifer said. “You sleep tight. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She could still hear Declan screaming as she walked up the stairs to the master bedroom, smiling all the way.
That damn tongue – ahhh, he knew exactly what to do. She couldn't quite believe her own courage in just lowering herself like that, onto his face. She giggled into her hand. Man, where had that come from?
All she wanted right now was to fuck him, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. So, instead, she turned to the bathtub.
Sure, she had put on a few pounds over time. But the curves were soft and womanly; he'd appreciated her all the more when they had first married, loving her body. Did ten more pounds really matter? And the obvious answer – no – should have been good enough.
So why did she let him get to her? The makeover worked for her – she was stunning. Really. Even better looking than she'd been when they first met. Dominating him felt good. It felt right.
It was right. She drew herself a bath, turned on the jacuzzi spray, and grabbed the latest Selena Kitt novel. The spray nozzle attachment on the tub wasn't just for washing your back. She read a chapter or two about Sybians and went at it, more turned on by her knowledge that Declan was suffering downstairs in a cock lock than anything else. At least he couldn't fuck one of his lovers. That tongue of his was still amazing. She pushed aside the thought of all the other women he must have used it on. Not now.
The spray hit her clit just right and she opened her legs, letting them drop enough to slide a little dildo she'd bought just for these moments. Ah, the feeling filled her, the relentless stream of water pushing her nerves, making her pussy walls warm and ready. Her neck stretched back and her legs tensed, her mind filled with memories of Declan years ago, fucking her in an open field of wildflowers, the touch of his tanned skin, taut muscles, and hard ass pumping his thick cock into her.
She moaned, remembering the sun on her face, the scent of his musk, the taste of their sweat and how it mingled, how raw and real she felt, now sitting her in the tub, the jet spray rocketing her to a full climax, her mouth open and lips wet as she thrust herself against the dildo, finding a rhythm to move against the shower head, all explosion and power, all hers and all now.
She slept very, very well that night.
Her latte tasted even better the next morning. Declan had fallen asleep, curled up on the floor. She'd kicked him awake.
“Jennifer?” He'd rubbed his eyes.
“Make me a latte,” she'd barked.
“But, I...I need to go to the bathroom,” he'd said.
“After my latte.” Her order was not up for negotiation. He'd made the latte, even with his hands still handcuffed in front of him. She motioned toward the bathroom, where he was right now as she sipped her delicious coffee. Declan might be an asshole, but he was a very good barista.
He emerged from the bathroom, a confused look on his face. “I made a mess. I can't – ” He held up his handcuffed wrists.
“Then go lick it clean,” she ordered, giggling on the inside. That sounded like something a dominatrix would make a man do.
Was his cock growing? Did that somehow titillate him? A look of disgust passed over his face and she just laughed.
“I'm kidding. Here,” she answered, tossing him a wet kitchen rag. “Go clean it up. Now.”
He did as told, then stormed back out and threw the rag at her feet. “This is fucking enough, Jennifer. Uncuff me, now.”
“Nope.”
“I'll call the police,” he warned, face red and angry. He was also, as far as she knew, dry right now – no alcohol for the night. His hangover must be horrible.
Good.
“I am operating under lex talionis , Worm. The law of retaliation. And you're about to be served justice. In a dog dish, like the dog that you are.” If revenge is a dish best served cold, she thought, then Declan's dinner would be a fucking polar ice cap. He had a lot to make up for.
“I thought I was a worm.”
“Worm. Dog. Pig. Whatever. Call yourself what you want, because in the end you are Declan, and you must lick my toes, Worm.” And with that, she thrust her foot toward him, pointed, with an air of great expectation. She hid the fact that inwardly, she cringed at the thought of his tongue running along her just-pedicured foot, but she kept her feelings to herself. For all of this to work, she had to be the dom. The ultimate, ball-breaking dom.
If she had any hope of saving her marriage.
“You want me to lick your foot?” he asked breathlessly. Again, there it was – excitement? Was all of this turning him on?
Because her clit was white-hot with excitement now. She was struggling to admit it to herself, but being a dom to his sub was turning her on. The last man on earth, her own damn husband, she wanted to fuck, was standing before her in helpless mode.
And being in charge of him was about to make her orgasm on the granite counter.
“Lick my foot,” she affirmed. And my clit, again, she thought.
He kneeled down, the cock shackle causing him pain, and he flinched. But then his mouth covered her big toe and he moaned, she moaned, their simultaneous groans startling them both. Her foot kicked out involuntarily, not hurting him, but using enough force to push him backwards onto his ass.
Red hot desire, an intensity she had never – ever! – seen in him, shone in his eyes.
“Lick my clit,” she demanded, the words out before she could hardly believe she'd said them. But she had, so she pulled back her robe, dropping it to the ground. Then she slid off her pajama bottoms, wearing only a lightweight cotton tank top, and stood over him, as imperious as possible.
“Lick it!” she demanded. He fumbled to get back on his knees, his eyes dark and smoldering, revealing no emotion other than raw arousal, as his face came over to her thatch of dark curls, his eyes looking up with a plea.
One lick. One lick and she nearly came. Two licks, his tongue darting straight for her nub. Sinking her hands into his wavy hair, she guided his tongue to the exact right spot, writhing over him. “Oh, Worm,” she hissed.
“Mistress, please give me some release!” he begged.
“Shut up!” She slapped his naked ass, reaching beside her head, as she was now positioned in a 69 with his throbbing cock in her face. A few drops of pre-cum glistened on the tip inside the chastity case and she almost, instinctively, let it out and took it in her mouth.
Oh, no. Not yet. He wasn't getting any relief anytime soon.
“Oh,” he moaned. His breath caught and she swore his cock grew even bigger. Dear God – was he getting turned on by this? Had she tapped into something she didn't understand? Was this what he did with his affairs?
She flicked the tip of his cock and he groaned through gritted teeth. “Please, Jen. Oh, God, suck me off.”
“No.”
“Please, Mistress. I'll do anything. Please.”
And then the idea hit her. You want to get off? Oh, Declan, will you ever.
Good fucking grief – Declan couldn't believe he'd been shelling out hundreds an hour for a dominatrix in a club when his own wife of how many years was here, on his face, his cock in a contraption and he was chained to the wall. Jennifer was transformed, fully. Leaving him here all wound up last night had sucked. Sucked BAD.
But now she was making him her sub. He wanted to bring up the contract, explain safe words, and all that, but he was worried she would stop.
And nothing was worth having this stop. She could chain him to the wall and ride his face forever. Fuck the company. Fuck being a CEO. He wanted nothing more than to be told what to do and to be her sex slave.
Which was hard to stick to when she walked out of the room and returned with an enormous 10” black dildo and a grin from ear to ear plastered across her flushed face. Her outfit was different now, too; she wore black lace and crotchless panties with fishnet stockings.
He had seen that dildo at the club – plenty of guys rode it, with a suction cup attachment on a coffee table and a dom ordering them to fuck it, hard. Most of the time, though, you had to be pretty damn liquored up to take THAT up the ass. Liquored up he knew – but he'd never had anything that big penetrate him.
She took out a huge bottle of Astroglide and lubed it up. “I need to lube this up nice and good to make sure it goes in just right,” she hissed, eyes a bit wild. Declan's ass tightened in fear. Aw, hell no. No way he was doing that dildo.
But he didn't have a choice, did he? His reservations melted away a bit as his dick sprang to life and hope swelled his tissues. He was so turned on.
Jennifer attached the dildo to the floor. Fear shot through him. Then, to his surprise, she took the lube and poured a healthy amount in her hand, then rubbed herself.
And then his hot wife, so full of surprises, slowly lowered herself onto that sweet, glistening, black piece of plastic, a look of concentration and tight ecstasy covering her face. She bit her lip, then her tongue peeked out as she licked her lips and moaned.
Ah, God, he was going to jizz right now. She crouched over the fucking dildo and he could see her labia stretching to take the girth into her passage. It was like watching a homemade porno flick but his wife was the star. Nothing on YouPorn could top this! Her crotch was shiny with lube and now she reached up for her breasts, pinching one nipple with her wet hand.
He reached for his cock and hit metal. Damn. This wasn't funny anymore.
“Jennifer, please take this damn thing off,” he insisted, pointing at his groin.
She froze, poised over the dildo like she was going to the bathroom on a camping trip. “You want me to remove your penis?”
“Ha ha. No, the chastity thing.”
“Fuck, no. I'm enjoying every minute of this. You're just jealous because you're less man than this piece of plastic,” she said her cruel words igniting a heat of arousal and need in him.
And then she fucked herself silly in front of him. She pulled up, then plunged down, inhaling sharply as the tip hit her cervix. Her hand reached down to touch her clit and he could see the folds, different shades of pink and red, see her clit calling his name.
“Worm!” she shouted. “Come lick me!” Her face was flushed and unfocused and he knew she was holding back, trying so hard not to come, and that once she did this would be over and he would suffer, still, his own climax painful now, a need as great as a famine victim so close to food.
He kneeled before her and struggled to put his mouth on her clit, the taste and slick of Astroglide a bit much. Both found a rhythm soon and he marveled at her pussy and how it took in the dildo, as thick as a baseball bat, and it made him all the more on edge and horny as fuck.
“Ah, Declan, ah, God, fuck me, ah! She cried out as she lifted up, then thwacked down, hard, on the dildo, fucking the stump and coming, until he finally gave up and slithered back, content to watch her writhe and twist in complete and utter abandon.
Then, as suddenly a she had shifted into this animalistic lust, she sat up and declared, “Your turn.”
Finally! But she didn't unlock the cock blocker.
She pulled out more lube and touched his ass, her hand the first outreach to recognize his pleasure. She rubbed and rolled, smearing as much on his anus as possible, then pointed.
“Sit. On it.”
He hesitated. Could he? Damn. He'd been pegged before, but a dick-sized strap-on was nothing compared to this big monster. Would it split him in two? Would it feel good? Could he finally come? Maybe he could try a little of it and if it worked...
“Worm!” she shouted. Jennifer seemed tired now, but her eyes were very naughty. “Get on the damn black cock NOW.”
Those were words he never, ever expected to hear out of his college sweetheart's mouth.
He complied. The opening to his ass fought back as he gently eased himself on to the tip, Jennifer watching, her head tilted to the side, contemplating the view. It burned. Oh, how it burned. This was pleasure and pain at once, and different from being pegged. He knew there was going to be a BIG hurt when this sucker popped in, but then he expected a huge payoff.
Jennifer took her hands and added more Astroglide, then slicked his chest, fingers pinching his nipples, rolling them between perfectly-manicured, long fingernails. He moaned, awash in the feelings of overwhelm and pain and fulfillment, and then she produced two nipple clamps from her cleavage.
“What are you--” Pain. Searing, white-hot, blinding pain as she attached the clamp to his right nipple, so tight he imagined the end of his flesh would pop off. That, combined with the near-baseball bat inching up his ass, made him scream.
“Do I need to gag you?” she asked, eyes cold, voice controlled. Jesus Christ.
“No, Mistress,” he whimpered, no longer pretending, no longer in a role. He was just his nipples, his ass, his prostate, his flesh. She attached the second nipple clamp and, oddly enough, it felt good to have the pain balanced out on his chest. A rush of endorphins hit him, a wave of relief, and then he resumed fucking the dildo.
Pop! He felt a searing, screaming pain and then – ah. “Oh, fuck me it hurts!” he shouted, then the dildo hit his prostate and his cock jumped to life, pinched in his little cock prison. “Please, Mistress, free my cock! Please,” he begged. This time she relented and came over, key in hand, and let his poor, aching dick free.
It stood strong and hard, and as he lowered himself another inch, he nearly shot a wad across the room. It felt so full, so good, so warm, and as he took it in a half inch at a time he reached for his cock with one hand, slowly stroking.
“No! No stroking. Only the ass play,” she ordered. Disappointed, he removed his hand. Now he moved himself up the shaft slowly, the friction building a volcano in him. Within three pumps up, down, up, down, up, down he lost control in a millisecond, tipping into a jizzfest that shot a good eight feet across the room, some of it hitting Jennifer's leg as he screamed.
“Fuck that black cock!” she urged, and Declan complied, taking most of it in as his dick flailed wildly, cream streaming everywhere, his entire body exploding at once. Sweet relief and a mild melancholy filled him as he came back to earth.
It was all over.
“That was pathetic,” Jennifer shouted, not sure what to do now. He'd licked her, she had fucked the enormous dildo in front of him, and made him anal-fuck a dildo. Dear God, the man did whatever she told him. Maybe she should order him to clean the house! Save her some work.
This was not the man Declan had been these past few years. Hell, she'd never, ever seen Declan like this.
“Lick your semen, Worm. Look at the mess you made!” she reprimanded. A look of confusion hit his face, but he turned away from her and began licking the floor, walls, and a stool.
When he was done, she pointed to her leg. “You missed a spot.”
He licked and moaned, as if he actually
enjoyed being told to lick his own jizz after being ordered to anally fuck a dildo. “Please, Mistress, please let me shower and sleep.”
“YOU want to be clean? Not after the mess you made.” She strode across the kitchen and handed him a mop and bucket. “Clean the entire house, NOW, and maybe I'll let you have a shower later.”
His lips twitched with a smile. A very contented smile.
“Yes, Mistress. Of course.”
She stormed into the kitchen, found the cleaning caddy, and thrust it at him, her hands shaking.
“Start with the bathroom upstairs,” she demanded.
“Yes, Mistress. But please?” He held out his still-cuffed hands. She got the key and unlocked him. He pointed to the leash still chained to the wall.
Damn it. She narrowed her eyes. “If I unlock that, you'll escape.”
His eyes widened in fear. “No, Jennifer, I won't. Really.”
His use of her real name made everything feel surreal suddenly. What was she doing? Keeping him trapped wouldn't work forever. She had to let him out sometime.
With great reluctance she unlocked the leash from the wall. “I'm trusting you,” she warned.
“Yes, Mistress.” He turned and walked toward the staircase, naked ass still shining with lube, spent cock bobbing as he carried the caddy.
My God, was he whistling?
What the fuck?
He enjoyed this too much. Something was just...off.
And then she had an idea. Where was his cell phone?
The last fucking thing Declan wanted to do right now was clean a toilet. Take a shower, eat some wings, watch a game – sure.
Scrub a toilet? No. But he had to prove to Jennifer that he wouldn't escape.
The Unexpected Dom #1: Jennifer's Revenge (BBW BDSM Male Submission) Page 2