I screw my buttocks together to try and keep the cold out of the crack of my ass. I glimpse faces pressed at the window again - inside in the warmth.
The snow makes a scraping sound as my trembling arms and legs shake uncontrollably through it. High above me Becky slips dark woollen gloves from her coat pocket and stoops down into the snow. She grabs a fistful of the white powder in each hand and turns grinning to the window. Even at this moment I’m struck by how beautiful she looks – no mere hooded coat could prevent that. No word but ‘perfect’ could possibly do her justice.
The first snow ball shatters on my stomach with a dull thud. I’m still winded from it when the second tears into my balls. Becky stands giggling and watching me writhe in agony. She stoops again for another two handfuls. She blows snow from the end of her lovely turned up nose and then is leaning right over me.
“Spread your legs wide for me,” the dry fur on her sleeve is so warm on my frozen inner thigh. I scream and she’s rubbing snow all around my balls. I try to close my legs and she yells at me to open them. Sobbing now, I obey. She’s scooping up handfuls of snow and rubbing all over my traumatised balls and chest. My nipples stand out like I’ve never seen them. My legs rock like an old mans and a strange voice sounds, letting out thin little gulps which sound like high pitched cries. My voice as she rubs snow into my ball sac.
“Sit up, get on all fours” I’m told, just when I think I may be about to pass out from the cold. My hands go to my testicles, trying to massage some sensation back into what feel like deep -frozen strawberries.
“Stick your ass out Stuart” Becky yells when I’m back on my hands and knees. The leash, chain and chastity belt shake and sound like they’re chattering with each other in some crazy, perverted syncopation. Becky grabs the end of the leash and coils it around a gloved hand.
“Becky for God’s sake; Please!” I shout, but we both know that whatever she intends will indeed happen.
I feel her boot on the back of my head and relax letting her push my face down into the shocking snow. My eyelids feel as if they’ve been burnt. The whip, when it first lands doesn’t overcome my ass with pain as it normally does. My body has the cold to contend with as well. I attempt to twist my head so that only my chin rests in the snow. The whip strikes one of my hips. This time harder. It hurts a lot.
“Are you going to have a go Cara?” Becky shouts as footsteps approach on the path.
“No I couldn’t Becky” Cara is laughing. Evan tries coaxing his wife to at least try, but she declines.
A flash outside from what must have been a mobile phone. Struggling as I am under Becky’s cold boot I can’t tell who took the picture. I do manage to twist my neck enough for a brief glimpse of the window. Julia and Ray watch while sipping champagne.
Stinging pain. The riding crop flails me.
“P-please B-b-b-b Becky please,” my voice muffled in the freezing ground.
I’m whipped again. Becky’s boot still on my head. Again the whip strikes. Raised voices fade into a soup of murmuring. How many times is she hitting me? I want it to be over. I want to be in the warmth of her house. Almost as much as I want the pain of her whipping me to stop; I need to feel warmth.
“I’ve had enough. It’s too cold out here.” At last Becky says, a shiver in her voice.
I raise my head and watch the other two make their way back towards the house.
“You better get yourself warmed up.” Becky says, tightening the front of her coat around her throat.
Did she really just say that? Unsure which part of my beaten and frozen body aches and shakes the most; I scurry gratefully along behind this woman who’s just put me through such pain.
“There’s a bath towel on the floor near the washing machine you can use,” she nods towards the laundry room once we’re inside the house. “When you’re dry come through to living room. See if anyone needs another drink.”
She shakes the snow off her coat and slips it off. I don’t really even delay to enjoy the sight of her bare feet when she takes off her boots. I just need to get that towel around me.
Who knows what the dirty marks on the towel are – mascara maybe? My shoulders ache from shaking with the cold as I rub my hair dry. I slip the leash off but decide I should probably leave the collar where it is. I pull the towel tightly around my shoulders and take deep, sharp breathes, shivering on the tiles of the laundry room.
My teeth have only just stopped chattering by the time I’m feeling capable of making my way back down the hallway. My balls are still numb and I’m trying hard not to focus on the pain of my whipped ass. Maybe I should have rubbed some more snow onto it to try to soothe it after the beating?
Only Evan and three of the women are in the living room when I arrive there. My wife isn’t one of them.
“No-one could possible enjoy being treated like that Becky,” Cara shakes her head as she sits alongside Becky on one of the sofas.
“Ah, here he is now. Why don’t you let him tell you himself?” Becky gestures towards me with her glass and sits back in her seat.
“How do you feel about our little outdoor session Stuart?”
What would Becky most like to hear at this point? I hesitate a moment while they all wait.
“I’m pleased I could show everyone my devotion to you Becky.” I say eventually.
“So you enjoyed it?” Cara asks looking incredulous.
“It was hard. It hurt...a lot, but I know it made Becky happy - so I’m grateful.” I’m positive my face must look scarlet to them all.
“Speak up!” Becky says, her eyes gleaming.
“Grateful? Seriously?” Cara’s face creases into an almost angry frown and she shakes her head.
“What kind of a sick pervert are you?” She stares at me with disgust on her face.
“Cara: you shouldn’t be so quick to judge,” Julia says, “You might be surprised how many men apparently enjoy that kind of treatment. At least at the hands of someone who understands how to administer it.”
Cara exhales sharply, shakes her head again and sips from her glass. Becky smiles at Evan before turning her attention back to me.
“You better go and see if Dom and Ray want a drink. They’re in the work-out room.” Becky dismisses me with a wave of her hand after I’ve freshened everyone’s glass.
With mounting apprehension I make way down the hallway and pause outside Becky’s work-out room. I haven’t seen Dominic or my wife for some time. Since before I was beaten in fact. I’ve been so occupied trying to deal with what’s been happening to me that I’m ashamed to admit I’ve hardly thought about Lynne.
I press my ear to the door. Music. I clear my throat and knock. Female laughter and drunken male shouting. Did they tell me to come in? I knock again. Nothing. With my heart banging like a kick drum I slowly push open the door.
“Come on in lad,” Ray is ginning at me, electronic cigarette in one hand and a drop of champagne in the bottom of the glass in his other hand.
The room is warm. Dominic standing with his shirt unbuttoned. My wife in only bra, heels and panties in his arms. They move together to the music in a slow circle.
“Becky said to check whether you’re ready for another drink.” I blurt out. My eyes stare at Dominic’s hands mauling my wife’s ass as she grinds herself into him.
“I think Dom is rather busy at the moment,” Ray studies me with amusement on his face. “He’s got his hands pretty full as you can see for yourself.” Ray moves back to afford me an unobstructed view of my wife in the other man’s arms. As they rotate around Lynne’s eyes are closed, her arms wrapped around Dominic’s thick neck.
“No need to disturb them,” Ray whispers as if we share a big secret, “We’ll all have some more champers - bring a bottle. Off you go lad” he jabs towards the door with his thumb.
When I return it’s Evan who opens the door to me. He smiles without making eye contact and invites me in. The volume of the music is right down now. To my shame every
one’s there. Becky is standing with Cara and Julia and she raises her glass when she sees me. I freeze in my tracks when I fully take-in the rest of the room.
Dominic stands behind Lynne, holding her hair up above her head in one of his fists and pinning her wrists together behind her with his other hand. In front of her with shoulders hunched is Ray. I don’t realize right away that my wife’s panties are around her ankles.
“Dirty little bitch,” Ray is telling my wife as he works his fingers between her legs- in and out of her.
“Come and get some Evan,” Ray shouts without taking his eyes from my wife’s pussy, “Don’t be shy she’s gagging for it.”
Evan shakes his head but Cara has seen and heard enough.
“That’s it Evan - we’re leaving!”
“I don’t want to go yet. Come on Cara don’t be a prude” Evan says.
Cara stares at her husband for a moment before thrusting her half-empty glass into his hand and striding from the room. Becky follows her.
Oblivious in the center of the room, Ray’s fingers click away increasingly quickly inside the slippery folds of my wife’s pussy. She’s moaning loudly as Ray’s other hand works over the side of one of her hips.
“Come on,” Dominic beckons Evan across with his head. This time the other man doesn’t need any persuasion. He doesn’t even acknowledge me with a look, let alone to seek permission as he joins the older men with my wife.
He tugs up her bra and Lynne’s pink nipples stiffen on her pert tits. She lets out a deep throaty moan as Evan’s mouth closes over one of her breasts.
Julia briefly glances at me, as if checking my reaction.
“Well well well,” Becky rejoins us smiling at the sight in front of her, “Who’s a naughty boy now his wife is out of the way?”
Evan removes his mouth from my wife and sticks his tongue out at Becky. She laughs back at him - too flirtatiously for my liking. My blood runs cold.
“Really Becky, how must he feel watching this?” Julia nods in my direction.
“Oh he loves it,” Becky throws back her head and laughs, “Wait a moment Julia, I’ve got an idea. I’ll show you.”
“Hold this” she gives me her glass. Faint traces of her lipstick smudged around its rim. A cry from Lynne demands my attention.
Her body has stiffened, her face taut with effort as she groans to a climax. While it’s still subsiding they push her down to her knees.
“I’m first” Ray tells the others and fumbles with the front of his pants.
“Unlock yourself,” Becky holds the little key to my chastity belt padlock out to me. “Go on,” she nods at my shocked reaction, “Before I change my mind.”
My hands shake so unsteadily that it takes me several attempts as I stoop forward trying to get the little key in place. My long-stifled semi-erection pulsates, frantically sensing freedom.
In the middle of the room, my kneeling wife is shovelling Ray’s stumpy erection into her mouth while he shouts obscenities at her.
“Oh for heaven’s sake Raymond, must you be so vulgar?” Julia shouts, “I’m sorry about his language Becky, really I am.”
Becky laughs and I gingerly work the chastity belt casing off what is a very sore and tender shaft.
Evan and Dominic both have their own cocks out and are slowly stroking themselves, presumably in readiness for their turns in the warmth of my wife’s mouth.
“My my, Evan certainly is a big boy isn’t he?” Julia whispers to Becky
“Just about the perfect size...and shape I’d say.” Becky’s teeth play around the rim of her glass as she looks towards the men in the center of the room.
“Excuse me Becky,” I say, trying to take her attention away from Evan. “What do you want me to do now?”
“Ah yes,” she says, “Julia, I think that probably tells you exactly how this one feels about the situation.” Becky points her empty glass at my upright erection.
“It’s like Evan and Dominic’s only a whole lot smaller!” Julia cries and they both laugh.
Kneel down,” Becky says, before my attention is pulled away by a male shout. Ray is gripping my wife’s hair in both fists, his face contorted. I see the side of one of his buttocks clench. His whole body seems to stiffen then spasm as he ejaculates into Lynne’s mouth.
“Swallow it,” he gasps at her and she throws back her head, her throat muscles moving in obedience.
“10 slow pulls only.” Becky wags her finger at me and Julia’s eyes widen.
“Thank you Becky,” I carefully grip my iron-hard shaft in my hand. It’s very tender and heavily chafed after weeks of the spikes. I hold my thoughts just as carefully as I slowly peel back my foreskin. I try to savor every sensation. My whole body tingles. It’s so good it takes me back to my first ever orgasm. The amazement and wonder at how good your own body could make you feel.
“9!” Becky shouts at me.
In the center of the room Dominic twists my wife’s kneeling body, presenting her head to Evan’s groin.
“Your turn” he smiles as he offers Lynne’s blow-jobbing services to his guest.
Ray is still breathing heavily as he sits on the bench against the far wall sipping from his champagne flute.
“8...7” Julia joins Becky in chanting at me as I kneel, masturbating one pull at a time at their feet.
Further away, my wife kneels kissing Evans tight ball–sac as he works his own engorged erection in her face. Dominic is sitting it out now next to Ray.
“6!” Becky and Julia shout. Shit! I think I’m coming! I don’t have any tissues or anything to come into!
I spurt load after load into my cupped palms just as Lynne’s lips are closing around Evans bone-hard shaft. Insanely, it’s not what my wife’s doing that tips me over the edge. My eyes are focused on the shape of Becky’s legs.
“Good God, look at all that!” Julia curls her lip in disgust at the mess I’ve made and both women move back from me.
Kneeling here holding my own seed with my monumental orgasm subsiding; the crimson red veil of my desire is lifted. For several seconds I see clearly the horror of what I’ve let happen to my wife and I. Reality no longer filtered through a prism of chastity has become a nightmare. I could weep. Then Becky looks at me.
“Here, clean yourself and the floor up with this.” Becky kicks Lynne’s discarded dress at me just as my wife is gagging on receipt of Evan’s cum. His shoulders have slumped and he looks like he’s gripping onto her head to hold himself up as she slurps.
I don’t want to soil my wife’s new dress but I don’t know what choice I have. I can hardly go through to the laundry room to clean up with all this cum still in my hands. I’d make a hell of a mess.
I wipe my hands, cock and the floor with what my wife was wearing and excuse myself to go and clean up properly in the laundry room. What the hell is Lynne going to wear when she wants to get dressed?
By the time I’ve washed and reached the gym again there’s much shouting from inside. I know I couldn’t be heard if I knocked, so I chance just quietly entering.
My wife is on all fours with Dominic kneeling behind her. He’s pounding her up the ass, his balls slapping drunkenly against her flesh as his body batters her. In front of her, a glass in one hand and the hem of her dress pulled up to her waist in the other; stands Julia. Lynne’s eyes are closed and her face upturned between Julia’s legs. She laps thirstily and noisily at the older woman before Dominic’s pounding breaks either her concentration or her rhythm - or both. Then she starts lapping all over again.
Becky motions a hooked finger at me when she sees me. She points down at the chastity belt and padlock discarded them on the floor where I left them.
“Get that back on so I can lock it.”
Chapter Eight
I needn’t have worried about Lynne having to go home in her stained dress. We ended up staying here overnight at Becky’s along with Julia and Ray. Evan walked home to his wife in the early hours. I wonder what kind of r
eception he got from her when he arrived back?
No-one else was fit to drive or could be bothered travelling. No-one except me of course. But I didn’t count. I did get to have some champagne though. Becky and Julia finished up so drunk that they spat some into a saucer and made me lap it up at their feet while they stood laughing.
My body’s aching from lying here on the kitchen floor all night and I’m cold now, even with my clothes back on and this towel around me. I wish I knew who slept where last night. I only know they’re all upstairs.
Even with the shame of watching my wife behave like a whore and the way I was treated myself, it’s still some of the things I heard Becky say which have been on my mind since I woke. I’m sure people forgot I was stone-cold sober as the night wore on. She told Julia that Evan was exactly her “type”. I still feel physically sick thinking about that now. I saw the way he was looking at her.
I know it’s insane, I mean what right do I have to feel jealousy over someone who isn’t even mine and who’s never going to be?
I daren’t make myself a coffee or even a cup of tea but I’ll pour myself a glass of water. I’m hungry too and tempted to look through Becky’s cupboards for something to eat - but I better not.
Just the fact that I’m on my own down here in Becky’s house with everyone else still upstairs presumably fast asleep, has my cock twitching. I could probably snoop around for some of Becky’s intimate things. If only I dare.
The noise of the kitchen door opening makes me jump. Becky in her dressing gown. I sit up as soon as I see her. Her bare feet pad across the kitchen floor towards me.
“Good morning Stuart” she says without even looking at me. Even without a scrap of make-up on and after such a heavy night she’s still looks beautiful. Younger, but still incredibly beautiful.
She walks past me to the food cupboards, an electric toothbrush in one of her hands. God help me; I can’t help but stare at the material of her fleece dressing gown as reaches into the cupboard. The dark brown fabric is gathered a little at the back of her slender waist but lower down the fleece is filled majestically by the rounded twin orbs of her ass.
Led By Her 7: A Dominant Female, Submissive Male, Public Humiliation & Cuckolding Tale Page 5