Chapter 4
Charlene Kuafman brought hard leather bull whip swiftly down to her husband's bare red bottom He writhed and squealed in pain.
"Eat me, Slave!" she said as she grabbed a handful of his curly black hair and yanked his head back hard enough to make him choke.
"Aggggghhhhhh," he replied, knowing full well that he hadn't a chance of wheedling his way out this one. No matter how much he begged, no matter how much he pleaded, she was going to have her way with him.
The woman hooked one thumb around her black studded corset loops and leaned back. God, she loved playing that stiff old bull whip crop in her hand. And the fine crisp snapping sound the whip made when it struck the still air. It send shivers and chills down her spine. Her husband knelt humbly at her feet. He looked so forlorn and pathetic kneeling down there on all fours, like a dog.
"Suck my pussy, Shit Face!" she said, rudely jerking her cunt into his face. She had him locked right where she wanted him all right. Strung up to the door knob on one side of the room and tied to the bedpost on the other. And she had his head locked into a black cow hide collar with a thick silver ring sticking out of it. And on that ring hung a single silver chain. The one she was using right now to jerk his head toward her.
The man felt his face growing flush red and purple as the woman led him by the neck, closer ever closer to outstretched pulsating pussy lips. They were so red and round and quivering. Her slit was so enormous, thrust up there against his face. He felt that he might be pulled right in, head and all, if she didn't ease up on that chain she was leading him by.
"Vile Disgusting Filth Monkey!!! " she crowed at him as she felt the hot tingling sensation of local arousal permeate her pussy meat.
"You don't deserve to draw another breath. You only live because I have not yet decided whether I shall snuff out your wretched life or allow you to continue on here as my lowly slave.'
"Anything," the man gasped, fighting for the air which was choking off at his throat. "Anything you desire, Mistress."
"I saw you," she said mocking him cruelly, "I saw you watching that lousy piece of ass, that dumb cunt head of a bitch sitting across from us tonight. She almost made me want to puke in my dinner!"
"I humbly beg you, Mistress," the man said, shaking his head and letting his dark lashes flutter together. The pain was circling his neck like a vise. "I beg you to reconsider. Please, please forgive me. I am humbly and truly sorry to have ever, ever offended you in any way. I live only to serve you."
Then Bob Kuafman closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. The chills that ran down his spine were as real as the pain running round his neck, squeezing the breath out of him.
"I'm not ready to make my decision, yet," the woman said, brandishing the whip high in the air and snapping it a good one before she brought it down firmly across his raised, raw butt. "You will have to wait until my pleasure has been taken care of before I decide whether to let you live or die!"
With those words, again the whip came crashing through space, splitting the air like a gunshot and wallopping Bob's hot, quivering buttocks.
Charlene leaned back and let her legs flop out. God, she loved the way her cunt looked from up here. So wide and pink and wet and ready. Ready for her pleasure. Ready for her slave's obedience to it.
Her breasts were pushed high up over the top of the tight stay-fastened corset and she could see her nipples bulging out from the tips of them. They looked like snow covered peaks with volcanic ash clinging to the tops. They made her hotter and hornier still, if such a thing were possible, just looking down at them.
Her husband had been a bad boy that night. Very bad. And he would have to be punished. She closed her eyes and thought back to the events of that night.
The dinner party had started out normally enough. Ten guests. Not a big affair, as those things went, but lavish. like all of Charlene's dinner parties. This one was given for her girlfriend who had just announced that she was going
"The table looks lovely," Suzanne, her girlfriend, told her as she waltzed into the room. "God, Charlene, I'm so excited. Ken's bringing his sister here tonight, and I haven't even met her."
Charlene looked at her friend a little annoyed. Ken's sister was not on the list of dinner guests. She would have to set an extra place for her somewhere. And that would make an uneven number. Tacky, in the circles she frequented.
Charlene and Bob Kuafman were gifted. Even by their friends' standards, they had been both born into families of means. Charlene's family had been "old money", a family whose forefathers made a bundle in real estate. And Ken's family was nouveau riche, a bunch of farmers, as far back as Ken knew, until his father got lucky and struck it rich when he opened a fast food chicken wing stand. That little venture just took off and made Ken's father a millionaire in less than five years.
They met at college. Ken was attracted by Charlene's physical attributes at first. The strawberry blonde hair, the lush body, the freckled smile. And Charlene was turned on by Ken. He was so dark and mysterious looking. Such a big handsome hunk of man. Boy, actually, but she could see the potential. She found out his family had money and the match was instantaneous. And it had proved a good one over the last four years. They liked many of the same things, including heavy dominance and bondage.
And right now, Ken was getting his daily dose. He worshipped that long, tall willow of a woman. She was such a tower of strength. Worked out alongside him every day in their own private gymnasium She could lift a lot of weight for a woman. They designed that gymnasium together. And, less than six months later, they designed their own torture chamber.
It was everything they had both come to love. Complete with stone floor, stocks, pillories, slave auction block, manacles and shackles tied into the wall, and leather accoutrements of every size, shape, and description. And they got about as much use out of that room as they did the gym.
"Unworthy Lowlife!" Charlene hissed as the whip stung the man's hard, driven buttocks. His crevice was running with the sweat of pain and arousal. But the leather studded chastity belt he wore did not allow for him to take his throbbing, aching schlong out. It was firmly held against his flat, hard stomach until such time as his Mistress would lean over and unzip him. She only did that when she was good and ready. The build up, though, was pure heaven.
Just thinking of that snotty blonde bitch made Charlene crack her whip harder. How dare she invade their lovely home, with not even so much as an invitation. And that disgusting lime dress she had on! A cheap display of lewd sex if Charlene had ever seen it. If she hadn't been her best friend's fianc‚'s sister. Christ! She would have that bitch down here, too, right now, licking the polish off her boots. The thought of that drove Charlene wild with frenzied sexual lust. A woman slave! How quaint. How exciting. Up to now, she had used men, primarily her husband. But, then, they were new at this.
"I wouldn't take that pouty-mouthed bitch to a shit fight and use her as a shield!" she said in a low, buzzing voice as she sailed her whip through the air again and brought it right down on her husband's exposed left butt mound. She felt so proud of herself to be raising such tremendous red and raw-looking welts all along his backside. They looked like long strands of rubies laid against his flat, hard skin.
She yanked harder on the chain and brought her husband's mouth up to the very ridges of her cunt lips.
"Now suck, Creep!" she said in a stiff, Skene's voice, "Suck or I'll whip you to hamburger!"
The man knew it was time to be allowed to suck those sweet, pulsating pussy lips. Those big, circling ridges of puffy desire. Those wet, hot luscious wedges of tart, tantalizing goodness.
He opened his slobbering, slavering lips and emitted his tongue. It went out like a red, wet snake looking for a place to strike. It curled up hard like the tongue of chameleon before he struck his wife's juicy red prey.
"Aaaahhhh," she cried in ecstasy as the man's rolled up log slapped against her pussy lips. "Suck me, Slave Man!" she whispered in hot, writhing lust.
Bob Kuafman ran his thick, obedient tongue all around the rim of his wife's delicious red honey hole. He prodded and poked his assertive wet weapon up into her cunt crack and diddled her clit with it. She writhed and moaned in pleasure as he did so.
He felt so completely under her power. Totally controlled by her every whim and snap of the whip. And he felt quite happy to serve her. To be at her every beck and call. He was glad he had flirted with that girl, Ken's sister, whatever her name was. She was a tart, all right. And she had been making an obvious play for Bob.
He was used to those things. Most women he could leave alone without the slightest notion of following through with any of them once they came on to him. He had no desire whatsoever to play around or act unfaithfully to his wife in thought, word, or deed. He was totally devoted to her. Her willing and obedient slave. Her total and complete subservient servant. Her lowly footstool, if that is what she wished.
He felt the woman 's feet rise up and come down around his broad shoulders.
"Fuck me with your tongue, Disgusting Worm!" the woman said, spitting down her words like steel from a staple gun. "Fuck me with your hopeless little mouth pecker."
She threw her head back and laughed cruelly as he continued to probe and prod her clit and crack with his vibrating, slimy red working tongue.
His knees rubbed briskly against the carpet of their bedroom floor. They were bruised and raw from having been on all fours for so long, but he didn't care. He could only feel the ramming, cramming of his tongue muscle up her pussy. The throbbing, weaving pattern it cut across her rigid cunt lips and down all the way to her ass button.
Charlene thrust her butt hole right up at him and ordered him to stick his face in it.
"Kiss my ass, Shark Bait!" she seethed through mean, clenched white teeth.
The man caressed her bung hole with his tongue and bathed it in all the liquid he could possibly muster. He washed and scoured the shit right out of her ass with each thrust of his eager, prodding tongue. He scooped up the shit out of luscious ass vent and felt his insides grow heavy and fluttery at the ecstasy of the taste of her.
"Oh, Mistress," he cried, "I'll do anything, anything to serve you."
"Ream my butt, Dog! ' she scolded, letting her whip find its natural home again. The welts across his buttocks were raising to a fine red shine.
The man reamed and poked and lapped at his wife's ass hole. His cock was growing so stiff he thought it might split the leather and metal of his chastity belt. That lovely little belt with its tight jock and its bare butt holes. She had bought it for him, this woman he adored.
The woman felt herself grow hot to the point of itchiness with arousal. She reached down and masturbated her clit hard as the man continued to eat out her bung hole. He plugged her ass with his tongue and took his shit medicine right down his gullet. He burrowed up deeply and brought his tongue out again. He loved every shit-licking second of it.
Charlene flicked her clit still harder with her ever-ready fingers. It was growing hot and hard under her grasp. The tingling, reaming sensation of tongue to butt hole was driving her right out of her seat. She lifted her hips up, bracing her weight against her husband's shoulders.
How dare he! After all, she thought, as she worked her fingers faster than beavers chewing wood for a dam, who did he think he was smiling and winking at that insipid pale little mouse of a girl sitting across from him. And to think she had only seated her there because there was no other place for her to sit. Damn! Uneven numbers at her dining room table always made for trouble.!!
She stuck her butt higher into her husband's face. Let him choke on my ass hole! She thought that might be nice. Let him drown in my come juice, she thought as she continued the speeded up process of fingering herself ever harder and feeling her clit grow ever harder and twanging against her flailing cunt lips.
"Ream me, Faithless One!" she said, throwing her head back and shaking her clit still harder.
Bob locked his tongue up inside her butt vent. The slippery brown tunnel of her ass hole delighted him beyond description. His cock banged angrily against its leather and steel cage.
Charlene felt herself ready, ready and on the edge of her canyon of desire. She reached around with her clit massaging hand and unhooked the silver rivet that kept her slave's member inside. The thing bounced out like a log down a sawmill falls. His enormous rock hard pecker was slamming and whamming hard against the chastity belt and against his stomach. And soon, she new for sure, it would be ramming against her, too.
"Now, Slave!" she commanded as she slid even further down into the chair and clasped her muscular thighs hard against her husband's neck.
He reared up off his raw haunches and speared her cunt hole savagely with his hot, hard sword prick. He impaled her on his punishing cock rod. He humped and shoved and sweated and shoved and humped and sweated and insinuated his giant cock right down into her seething, writhing pussy tunnel. Charlene gripped him tightly around the neck and let him pound the daylights out of her. No man under his own steam could fuck like this, she knew that for a fact. No man could possibly screw this way unless he had been brought to the brink with insane torture and teasing beyond human endurance. "Fuck me."
"Fuck that hole!"
"Stick that pole down in there and fuck my pussy, Slave Boy."
"Fuck me."
"Fuck my pussy."
"Fuck that wet hole with your big bone, your big wet throbbing bone!!!"
Bob Kuafman gave her such a drilling his peter felt like a corkscrew. He slammed down on her again and again and again. He brought his pecker out to the very lips of her clit and held it there a breathless, priceless moment. Then he slammed it back in and drove the cunt's cunt hole all the way to a hard, fast, dizzy climax.
He felt her go off under him like a barrel of gunpowder. She exploded beneath his thrusting, humping schlong like the Chinese New Year.
"Ooooooh," she said as she lit up and headed skyward.
Then Bob felt himself flinging his guts out the end of his prick. His cock hole opened up and let his come load out in heavy, huge geyser jets. He shot his man load hard into his wife's waiting, tight hot cunt. He flung his come juice all up inside her wet pink tunnel and then yanked himself out of her throbbing hole. He spread the rest of his man come all over her lustrous strawberry blonde bush. He smeared it right in with his still rock hard pecker. He felt like an artist making a masterpiece with his tool.
Then he sat back and watched in complete awe and worship as his wife bent her head over and licked the delicious cream off her own heaving wet pussy mound.
Twenty minutes later the two of them sat up in their king-size bed and talked like a couple of school kids.
"I was soooooo jealous of that little bitch tonight, you bad, bad boy," the woman cooed, playing with the brushy hairs of massive man chest.
"I know," Bob grinned as he brought his firm strong fingers down on his wife's stuck up red nipples, "you proved it later, too."
"I wished I had that toady little cunt right there next to you, Bob," the woman said, wiggling her toes against her husband's foot. "I'd have made her my slave, too. That's what I would have done."
Bob thought a moment. Maybe that might be fun. Add a new dimension to their little fun and games. But how would he fit in?
"I'd have tied her up and sat on her. Used some really stiff nylon cord and wrapped it down around her torso and brought the end right tight over her big, sloppy cunt hole. That's just how I'd have done it."
Charlene thought a moment. Oh, it would be such fun to have herself a female slave. Someone they could both torture. A new little nubile slave girl to enhance the dominance and bondage. Such fun. Such fun just thinking about it.
"Darling," Bob said, snuggling his hand closer to his wife's honey pot, "why don't we get ourselves such a person, not Ken's sister, of course, she's much too close to Suzanne for comfort. And I certainly wouldn't invite her to any parties of ours again. That lime dress was atrocious. But what about a really innocent, willing, trainable little slave girl?
"One we could spank and paddle and tease and bind and torture?' his wife said brightly, sitting up a little and opening her eyes wide with the intriguing thought.
"Something like that," Bob answered, "a fresh young thing. A little daisy out of an onion patch. A slave girl . ... .Hmmmmmmmm."
The thought tantalized him so much, he reached down to stroke his cock and think about it a little more. Not surprisingly, he found it already rock hard.