Their Wayward Wives

by Emily Tilton

  With the water on, running noisily over the carrots and into the colander, Mindy hadn’t heard him come up behind her. She gave a little start and a little cry at first, but she knew Doug’s hands well and their way with her, and she loved how much importance he placed on her readiness to respond to his dominant touch. Despite the embarrassment of the moment, she blushingly relaxed into his lewd embrace as his right hand found its way into her panties in front, and his left came up under her t-shirt to find her braless. She closed her eyes and held onto the sink, waiting for him to instruct her in his pleasure.

  “You and I caused the Linds a little more trouble than we hoped,” he murmured straight into her left ear, kissing her jaw, then the spot just beneath that always made Mindy whimper.

  “Sir?” she asked weakly. His fingers, down below, had begun to perform the firm, circular movement that Doug knew represented the quickest way to a climax for his wife. Waves of pleasure weakened her knees, and her whimpers began to mount into the helpless screams of ecstasy that she found so embarrassing, but she knew Doug loved.

  “I’m pretty sure Cathy is being punished for the first time right now, and I think she’s going to get a good deal more than a spanking. She ran away this morning, and John just found her in a bar getting picked up by a businessman or two. He says he’s going to put her in a chastity belt tomorrow.”

  “Oh, God. Sir, please…” Why did he have to make her think about Cathy Lind, and the spanking of Cathy Lind by her big Marine husband? As Doug had fucked her the previous night, after Cathy and John went home, all Mindy had been able to think about was the way pretty, still-so-innocent Cathy would have to play with herself in front of her husband that night, of how he would spank her in the morning. She had never found pleasure in thinking of other girls’ punishments before, but this fantasy about her new next-door neighbor held a terrible potency for her.

  Of course, though Doug had often told her of his own fantasies about showing her off, which made her heart feel light even as they made her face hot, they had never come close to enacting one of them. But then Mindy had found the courage, despite the swarm of butterflies in her tummy, to bring out what Doug so degradingly called her penis toy, and lay it on Cathy’s palms.

  Before that, she had gotten undressed for their new friends. She had lowered her lacy panties to show Cathy her shaved pussy. And after showing Cathy the dildo that always felt to Mindy like it would burn her hands when she touched it, Mindy had lain on her back on their coffee table, with her knees up and her legs spread, and at her husband’s command she had pulled the green lace aside and put the penis toy inside her, while Cathy watched.

  Mindy supposed that if that sort of thing didn’t change the way you fantasized about other girls, nothing could.

  “Shh, babe. No words from you, now. Just slut noises.”

  Mindy gave her first little scream at this practiced humiliation. How did he do that?

  His hand came out of her panties, and she watched it dart between her arms as she continued to grip the edge of the sink for dear life. An inkling of what her husband intended sparked in her mind, and she whispered, “Please, sir. No.”

  “I told you to be quiet,” he purred, as he fetched a thick carrot, six inches in length.

  She didn’t mean the no, of course, and she knew he knew. She had thought about vegetables this way, had even wanted to see what it felt like. But Mindy couldn’t do that kind of thing on her own, by herself; her whole erotic being, found with the help of the man she loved, in the way he effortlessly commanded her pleasure and her pain, depended on Doug’s ideas. She could suggest things, and often did; she wasn’t sure if she’d suggested carrots at some point, but maybe she had, and Doug had saved it up for an opportune moment.

  His left hand deserted her breasts and came down between her thighs to tug the panties aside just as Mindy herself had done with the lacy ones the previous night. She had on her regular everyday cotton underwear—she wasn’t allowed to wear nylon, which Doug found unsexy. For Mindy, at his request, it was schoolgirl cotton or courtesan lace.

  She felt her brow furrow as she watched him slowly lower the thick orange root in his right hand. “Pussy or asshole?” he asked in a growl.

  Mindy giggled then; she couldn’t help it. Instantly his right, vegetable-wielding arm had seized her around her waist and his left, leaving the white cotton askew, was spanking her very hard.

  “Ow!” Mindy cried, but he kept spanking. In the early days, Doug would have accompanied the blows with a little lecture on the subject of giggling and mirth in general; now, Mindy knew exactly how to make amends even though she rather wanted the spanking to go on for a little while. It would a good deal easier to accept that she must have a carrot inside her if she could feel her backside burning with the discipline her husband had bestowed to instruct her about the necessity of obedience.

  “Pussy, please, sir!” she cried after five or six spanks.

  She knew what he would say next, though.

  “Since you giggled, you’re going to get this carrot in all three of your holes, babe. Cunt, then mouth, then anus. You won’t come until it’s up your ass.”

  Mindy was so wet that the carrot, itself damp from the colander, went in as smoothly as Doug’s cock always seemed to do.

  She had to say it, because she always had, since the very first time he kissed her after tasting her between her legs. “Please don’t make me taste my pussy.” Had she meant it even that first time? Now she even fantasized sometimes that Doug would make her do the terribly unhygienic thing the porn girls did sometimes, taking their masters’ cocks in their mouths after anal. He never would, since he cared so much about health and hygiene, but the degrading idea always seemed to make her come faster.

  “Shh. Ride quietly, babe. Up and down. You’ll taste your cunt-carrot very soon.”

  He urged her with his left hand on her now deliciously stinging backside, made her post up and down like a little girl at her riding lesson. She gave a little scream at each motion; the carrot, she thought, was probably even a little thicker than her husband’s cock.

  “Please, sir, may I come?” she pleaded.

  “Of course not, Mindy,” Doug said with an air of disappointment, still making her go up and down. “You know how to listen better than that. And I’ve had enough of your words.” He pulled the carrot from her pussy, and she watched him bring it slowly up.

  “Please,” she whispered again, but he touched the glistening thing, which smelled wonderfully of musk and freshness, to her lips, and she parted them, whimpering around the thick root as Doug imposed it like a horse’s bit, or a gag. She tasted herself as he moved it in and out not forcefully but very insistently.

  “All the way,” he said. “Just like my cock.”

  Mindy struggled to do what she had to do nearly every day—most important, right when Doug got home from work, a ritual that dated to their early dates at his apartment, when he was getting ready for flight school and she was a senior in college. As soon as she got there, right after kissing her hello, he would say, “On your knees, now,” and urge her downward to the floor. “You may take my cock out and suck it. We need to train you.”

  Five years later, her training had reached such a state of completion that she could open her throat even to the carrot, and Doug murmured “Good girl” to see it. The face-fucking with the carrot only lasted a minute or so, though.

  “Go to the chair,” he said, taking the thing from her mouth. “Assume the position.”

  The position meant hands on the seat of the wooden chair Doug sat in to take Mindy over his knee and nearly always used also for her anal training. It meant her feet apart—more difficult with her jeans around her thighs, of course—and her knees slightly bent. It meant her back arched, to present her husband with the little bottom he liked to prepare for his enjoyment.

  Mindy had found her anal training difficult in the beginning. The first time Doug fucked her ass, though part of her had fe
lt proud that the man she already loved so much wanted to claim her so completely, her cheeks had burned with the shame of surrendering her most private place that way. She had cried out, too, in discomfort at the way it felt to have a hard penis moving there, filling her up and not letting her little ring close the way it should.

  Now, as she shuffled to the chair and bent over, felt Doug lowering both her panties and her jeans all the way so that Mindy could spread her legs properly to receive her training, she thought of Cathy and swallowed hard. The image of little blond Cathy, bent over a chair just as Mindy was now, waiting for her own first lesson in anal submission, made Mindy bite her lip and made Mindy’s pussy flow.

  As least Doug had said that he would make her come when she had the carrot in her bottom. She would just have to forgive herself for the fact that as she came she would have no choice but to think about the same thing happening to innocent Cathy, about innocent Cathy wearing a chastity belt that John unlocked for anal training.

  The chance that Cathy had ever even considered the possibility her husband might want to get her ready for sex in her bottom seemed vanishingly remote to Mindy. Having seen the look in John’s eyes the night before, as he’d glanced from Mindy to Cathy while his neighbor’s wife thrust her penis toy in and out of her shaved pussy, Mindy had no doubt at all: John had a dominant streak just as bold as Doug’s.

  Mindy cried out as Doug parted her buttocks and pushed the blunt end of the carrot against her little flower. She concentrated, trained well enough by her husband’s frequent use of her anus to be able to open when she needed to, and pushed. Being able to open, though, didn’t do much for the comfort of having a thick vegetable in your ass, Mindy thought wryly as she whimpered.

  “So pretty,” Doug murmured as he thrust the carrot further and further in, very slowly. “Mindy’s such a good little garden slut.”

  She almost giggled, but managed to hold back because the authoritative note in Doug’s voice made even slightly silly dirty talk like that unbearably hot. And then she had no desire to giggle at all, because Doug had dropped his own jeans to the floor, and had his feet outside hers and his cock at the entrance to her pussy.

  Mindy gave a sobbing scream as he sheathed himself. She had never felt so full, so used, in her life.

  “Shh,” Doug said gently. “I want you to pretend it’s John’s big cock in your asshole, babe.”

  Chapter Twelve

  John came, with a shout, in Cathy’s pussy, after a few minutes of vigorous fucking. Only a moment before, she herself had screamed her way to her first climax, helpless to prevent it though a sizable portion of her mind wanted to stave off the pleasure in some way—any way—so that John wouldn’t know she had never come before.

  His hips, pounding into her punished bottom-cheeks, making her backside squirm under him, wouldn’t let her stay away from what seemed a dark spiral of physical ecstasy, though, and the terrible release happened, and then went on and on, until even when she had felt her husband’s seed spurt inside her, the tremors down there, around his penis, went on in mortifying little spasms.

  “Good girl,” he said, stroking her back, his voice sounding full of wonder.

  Part of Cathy wanted to keep up the lie—tell John that yes, that had been a big orgasm, but she had had tons of them before. She didn’t think she could face admitting to her deception along with everything else—the spanking, the submissive sex, the terrible thought of the chastity belt. Another part wanted to tell him everything, but that part seemed weaker, because hadn’t she already given up enough control? Shouldn’t she keep something for herself?

  John seemed content to touch her gently and to remain inside her, which he had never done before, his cock slowly softening in a way Cathy both liked and didn’t like.

  She had to do, or say, something. If she didn’t, she would tell him the truth. “May I… may I take a shower, sir?” she murmured, turning her face back over her shoulder to look at him. His hugeness, behind her and in such control of her, still in his t-shirt while Cathy was fully naked somewhere other than the shower probably for the first time since girlhood, took her breath away in a fashion she had never experienced. That just made the problem more urgent, though. “Please?”

  But John’s eyes narrowed. “You may take a shower with me, in a few minutes. For now, we’ll stay like this, and talk.”

  Cathy felt her eyes go wide and her brow pucker. She swallowed hard. “Talk about what?”

  “Sir,” John said emphatically. “I’m done letting little things like that slide.”

  Cathy’s reason rebelled. “Oh, come on, John.” She racked her brain for an argument, found one quickly. “Even Mindy doesn’t—”

  But he interrupted her, and now the anger had come back into his voice. “I don’t care what the Landises do, or don’t do, when it comes to this stuff. You will call me sir. I don’t have a problem telling you that I need your respect, now that we’re starting to understand each other at last, but more important, I don’t have the slightest doubt anymore that you need discipline and training, and that begins with the way you address me.”

  In a flash, to Cathy’s astonishment, he had pulled his cock out of her, and she saw it—surely she had seen John’s penis before, but now it really did seem like the very first time, and with an inward gulp she remembered how consistently she had turned away from her husband’s nakedness just as she had averted her eyes from her own. The sight made her feel lightheaded, made her want to cry.

  Not as much as what happened next, though, because John put his left hand on her waist and started to spank her very hard with his right.

  Cathy cried out, and tried to get onto the bed and crawl away—not really to defy him but just because it hurt so much, and he had taken her by surprise. John took her firmly around her hips and kept spanking. He didn’t even say why he had started to punish her again, or how she could make him stop.

  Because I know, and he knows I know. He doesn’t have the slightest doubt.

  “Sir!” she begged. “Sir, please, stop!”

  He did stop, and immediately he started to rub her bottom. It felt heavenly, to Cathy’s dismay, and she found herself making an awful cooing sound. But very soon it became much, much worse, for John arrogantly put his hand between her legs and began to fondle her. She thought of the night he had put his hand inside her panties, and how naughty it had seemed; this lewd caress, with her husband’s enormous fingers taking terrible liberties with her vagina, her clitoris, even her bottom-hole, seemed infinitely naughtier, even though they were married and had made love many times.

  She started to scream again; she simply couldn’t help it, though she tried very hard to keep her mouth closed, to keep the sound locked in her chest. She started to ride his hand, her hips going shamelessly up and down.

  “You faked all those orgasms didn’t you, sweetheart?” John said. “Every one.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cathy cried.

  “And now you know how it’s going to be. You know what your body needs, and what you’ve denied it for so long.”

  “Yes, sir! Oh, God… oh, God…” John had all his fingers inside her pussy now, working them urgently in and out. She felt so full down there. John wanted to fill her up; he wanted to fill every part of her, because she belonged to him. The thought sent the waves of pleasure cascading through her again, and again she couldn’t help herself: she came, feeling like this orgasm under John’s hand might rip her body apart.

  He changed his caress after her orgasm, not taking his hand from between her legs but stroking her gently there, as if her pussy really were a pussy. The thought made Cathy’s face go hot. I won’t be furry down there anymore, though. I’ll be bare like Mindy, and John will look at my privates whenever he wants. He’ll inspect me whenever he thinks the time has come to get a good look at the place where he puts his penis. I’m going to be trained, now, the way he should have trained me from the beginning.

  She felt her still panting mouth o
pen wide in shock at the thought that had drifted in from somewhere—from down below. She would never have imagined that part of her could think that this training that Mindy Landis had clearly also gone through, at her husband’s hands and penis, should have happened earlier. Cathy still didn’t think it should happen now. She could call him sir as a little play thing, she supposed, but all the time?

  “I can’t wait until you’re nice and smooth down here, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Your pussy is very pretty with its fur, but I think it will be even prettier without it. You’ll be so nice and tidy for me.”

  That was when she became fully aware for the first time that the lights were on, and John could see everything. In the heat of the moment, with the spanking and the way he had just arranged her as he liked, with the lustful response of her body to all of it, she somehow hadn’t noticed that the thing she had worked so hard to prevent had already happened.

  Her face glowed hotter than the sun. So nice and tidy. Cathy liked tidiness, but she liked forgetting about sex, letting sex and the body parts involved just take care of themselves, even more. She hung her head, looking at the duvet. Surely John would let her take a shower soon. Surely he didn’t mean it about taking a shower together. Surely they would have to leave for home soon; it was almost an hour back to Yerba Linda and John must be hungry. They could stop on the way for fast food, maybe. Everything would go back to normal, as soon as they got their clothes back on.

  When he spoke again, though, he dashed Cathy’s hope of a return to the previous status quo. “Listen carefully, sweetheart. I know this is going to be hard for you, but like I said after the last couple days I’m sure it’s the right thing to do. I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen next, and how I’m going to train you.”

  Cathy swallowed, felt her forehead crease. How could he sound so reasonable, when she knew now that more painful spanks were only a disrespectful word away?