The first sting of the belt brings tears to my eyes. Charles does not hold back and I am thankful for the support of the footboard. Hot, sharp pain flares in my bottom cheeks, more intense than I remember. The blood rushes to my smarting buttocks. In the mirror I can see the cheeks reddening. Defiantly I push my bottom higher, await the next strike. Charles does not like my provocation.
The second strike is harder. The third harder again, enough to make my body jerk. I let out a strangled cry, though to cry out is a mistake. As is moving unnecessarily. Charles likes order, where I am chaos. Like an elaborate feng shui I am to be punished until my enforced obedience realigns his life. That’s why I continue to buy the shoes, an anarchistic purchase to muddy the waters, to breathe life into our relationship. Besides, I like the fiery heat of a good spanking. The heat penetrates my sac, heating my balls. My cock throbs. I am as hard as granite. Soon, the pain of my erection is almost as unbearable as the searing pain on my arse cheeks.
Charles continues until the heat grows intolerable. In return for my supplication Charles spanks me until my bottom flames, becomes a criss-cross of branded belt marks. The throbbing between my legs grows much greater, yet even the insistent throbbing of my cock cannot distract me. I am past seeping – a steady trickle of precome coats my cockhead. My shame glistens in the glare of the night light, evidence I am exactly what he believes me to be. The last blow is delivered harder than the others. I bite my lip. I will not allow Charles the satisfaction of crying out.
I sense Charles has lost interest and his mind turns to other matters, as they always do. He stands directly behind me, his hips close. Despite my resolve I gasp as the pressure of his hard cock makes the pain in my bottom flare. I welcome the distraction, close my eyes, and soak up the wicked pleasure as the hard bulge presses into the crack of my bottom.
‘Aroused, Tina?’ Charles whispers next to my ear as his hand steals around my body to clasp my own erection. Now he mocks. My bottom is seared, my balls swollen and bloated, my breathing ragged. I am full, yet I am empty. I need to be filled, need to be filled by him. He knows this so teases me with his erection, teases by gathering my precome and spreading it over my cockhead.
Yes, you bastard! I bite my lip, mad with desire, not wanting to capitulate, not wanting to beg. I promise myself I will not cave. No, I will not cave! ‘Yes,’ I whisper. ‘Fuck me!’ There is too much urgency in my reply, too much need. Now I have played into his hands. His fingers slide slowly over my heated skin. He lingers at my anus, makes me shudder, and lets me know I am his. His other hand slides along my cock, inches slowly downwards. My legs tremble as he stops with fingers barely touching my sperm-laden balls.
I grow ever more frantic. He wants me to plead, to beg. Oh, how I do. How I beg. I am past caring about self-respect. Charles has turned me inside out, laid me bare and exposed, so totally at his mercy. I gasp as a thick finger enters my anus. Charles feigns contempt at my weakness, delves deeper. I swallow his finger effortlessly, shudder in pleasure, no longer embarrassed by my body’s treason. I would like him to give more, to fuck me with his beautiful erection. Instead, he continues to tease, He fucks me with his finger, hard and fast. Waves of ecstasy pour over me as he continues to ream my bottom with his finger, toying with my cock until I am close to climax. I plead again, fighting back my guilt. What sort of woman am I?
Charles tells me in no uncertain terms. Slut! These harsh words – not normally part of his educated vocabulary – thrill me beyond reason. I shake my head vehemently. No, no, no! Yet his evidence is damning. He seizes my hair, pulls my head back, my scalp stinging under the strain, and then holds his perfectly manicured finger under my nose, spreading my precome along my lips. I am too weak to resist, too weak to deny any longer. He makes me repeat his words. He wants to hear them pass my ruby-painted lips. I look into his eyes; they are full of fire, full of longing, full of uncertainty. Ultimately, it is I who feel the need to reassure. ‘I’m a slut,’ I tell him.
His slut Charles reminds me. He turns my head to kiss me. Charles wants a soul mate with the body of a man who can kiss like a woman. My lips melt against his. I am that woman. I am. I am.
It is difficult to suppress my elation as his hands grasp my hips, drawing me to him. His erection nudges past my sore flesh, rigid, imposing, and rampant. Knowing how much he wants me fuels my hunger. I feel the chill of the lubricating balm, and then he slips into me without further hesitation, confident now of his status. In one deft movement he claims me as his own. I cry out, my submission complete. He withdraws almost completely, and then slowly pushes back in, all the way, until I can feel his balls rub against me. He does the same movement twice more then pauses again. I clasp the footboard; brace myself for the rutting to follow. Charles does not disappoint. He is quite an athlete for his age. His thrusts are short, furious, fitting in their intensity. ‘This what you want, slut?’ he grunts between thrusts.
‘Yes,’ I whimper. The slapping sounds as he reams my hole join my groans to fill the room. I plead for forgiveness though he does not stop, does not show mercy until I feel his anger explode inside me. I squeal like an alley cat, tightening around him. Like a volcano I erupt until I too am spent.
Charles holds me until I am still. He guides me to our bed, gently lays me on the soft mattress. This time I watch as he undresses. He kisses me tenderly, reaffirms his love. This is what every bad girl wants to hear: That we are not so bad after all. I wrap him in my arms; clutch his head to my breast. Only when he sleeps do I thank him, do I whisper my own undying love. We are Yin and Yang, Charles and I. Only together do we make sense.
No doubt I will be a little bruised – a reminder I will carry with me for a few days. Tomorrow he will play golf while I wait in the hotel with the other trophies and try not to fidget. Of course, I will miss the health spa. I will decline politely. Janice will smile knowingly. Maybe a few ladies will raise eyebrows, but no one will question. We each have our own cross to bear. Instead, I shall relax by the pool, stretch out my legs, rejuvenate in the sun, perhaps sip a few margaritas, play the good girl, the model wife.
Yet, I know my obedience will not last. A month, maybe a little longer before the itch grows too strong to ignore. I’ll spend a leisurely day shopping, filling myself with anticipation, browsing the stores before I select the most outrageous, most expensive heels I can find. You may ask why I sacrifice my dignity for a pair of shoes, however fabulous? I am a realist as well as a romantic. I know I have three, maybe four years with Charles before he decides to move on. So be it, and remember, that without those glass slippers Cinderella would still be sweeping the fireplace.
Sofa, So Fun
by Lucy Felthouse
Rubbing her eyes blearily, Kristin shuffled into her slippers and crept from the bedroom, careful not to wake her husband. Chance would be a fine thing, she thought. Dan slept like the dead and was currently snoring loudly enough to wake the aforementioned deceased.
Padding down the stairs, Kristin cursed herself inwardly for not taking a glass of water to bed. That would teach her to get tiddly and forget all about it. Smiling, she decided it had been worth it. The evening had been a success; lots of friends getting together for a catch up with a few drinks and a takeaway.
Some of the guests had been drunker than others. In fact, there was evidence of this on the couch. Kristin peered over the back of the sofa to check on her friend Shayna. She’d recently been through a messy break up, which explained the excessive drinking. Poor girl. Still, Kristin thought, at least she’s here and not gone off with some bloke to do heaven-knows-what on the rebound.
As she stood at the kitchen sink filling her glass, Kristin thought she heard Shayna stirring. She finished what she was doing and went back into the living room to make sure she was OK.
Shayna was fine; she was just tossing and turning a little in her sleep. Kristin decided to stay for a few minutes to make sure she wasn’t having a nightmare or something. Waking up and forgetting where she wa
s certainly wouldn’t help.
Sitting on the chair opposite the couch, Kristin sipped her water and studied her friend in the darkness. Naturally she couldn’t see much, but she could see that the other girl’s top had ridden up exposing an expanse of pale stomach. Kristin prodded and squeezed her own tummy resentfully, wishing it was as flat and toned as her friend’s. The curse of a long-term relationship, Kristin mused. Getting too comfortable and not exercising enough!
She was just about to head back to bed when Shayna fidgeted again. This time it dislodged the blanket Kristin had put over her when she’d settled her in for the night. She moved to pull it back up the other girl’s body when she noticed something. Shayna’s right hand was inside the waistband of her borrowed pyjamas and was moving in a tell-tale fashion.
Wide-eyed, Kristin watched as Shayna apparently masturbated in her sleep. Suddenly, Shayna started making very sexy, aroused-sounding noises. If at first Kristin hadn’t been sure what her friend was doing, she was now. Kristin felt like a rabbit caught in headlights. She didn’t know whether to just go away and pretend it had never happened, stop her or wake her up.
The need to make a decision was taken from her when Shayna’s eyes flickered open and looked directly at her. She smiled lazily up at her friend, then seemed to become aware of where her hand was. Pulling it out of her pants slowly, she grimaced as Kristin’s eyes shifted down to her hand, then back up to her face again. She’d obviously been hoping that Kristin hadn’t noticed.
‘I’m sorry,’ Shayna said, sitting up, ‘I didn’t know what I was doing. I must have been dreaming or something.’
Kristin sat beside her friend, putting her glass on the coffee table.
‘It’s OK,’ she said quietly, ‘I was just a bit shocked, that’s all. I’ve never seen another woman doing … um, that before.’
‘You haven’t? Wow. You never fooled around in college?’
‘Only with guys. I guess the opportunity never really presented itself.’
‘Hmm.’
‘What?’
‘Did it do anything for you? Seeing me touch myself?’
‘Well, er …’ Kristin paused. She knew the answer to her friend’s question, but was just unwilling to voice it. She’d felt the heat between her thighs building as she looked at the smooth pale skin of her friend’s exposed stomach. She’d half imagined what it would be like to touch it. Kiss it. The feeling of warmth in her groin had flared up considerably when she saw what Shayna had been doing with her hand down her pants. It had made her want to do the same to herself.
‘It did, didn’t it?’ Shayna said gently, putting her hand on Kristin’s arm. ‘Come on, there’s no shame in it.’
‘But … I’m not a lesbian. I’m married. And you’ve just split up with a guy. I don’t understand …’
‘There’s no need to label everything, Kristin. Just go with the flow. I’ve always thought you were hot. Even in your fluffy pyjamas and slippers.’
Kristin looked down at herself and laughed. ‘Really? I know you’re single these days, but you must be more desperate than I thought!’
Shayna fake-punched her friend on the arm in response. Kristin nudged Shayna back, and then what had started out as play-fighting suddenly turned into something much more charged. The two women looked at one another. Then as if they’d heard some unspoken command, they reached for one another.
They pressed against one another awkwardly as they sat side-by-side on the couch, and their lips met. After the initial shock of the fact she was kissing another woman, Kristin relaxed and let herself acknowledge just how good it felt. It was soft, intimate and incredibly arousing. And that was before Shayna’s tongue slipped between her lips and sought out hers.
The kiss became more heated and the pair clung to one another tightly, their arms round one another’s necks. Shayna grasped the back of Kristin’s hair and tugged it, pulling her head back and eliciting an unexpected moan.
‘Shh,’ Shayna hissed, ‘What about Dan? What if he wakes up?’
‘Trust me, he won’t. He could sleep through an earthquake.’
Shayna’s response was to push Kristin so her back was against the back of the couch. She then flung one leg over Kristin’s so she was straddling her. Moving so their groins were touching through their clothes, Shayna bent down to kiss Kristin once more. Their new position made everything seem so much more real somehow; more passionate. Shayna ground her pussy into Kristin’s, and Kristin mused about how different it felt, having someone grind against her without being able to feel an erection pressing into her.
She soon forgot what she was thinking about when Shayna deepened the kiss, swirling her tongue around in Kristin’s mouth, capturing Kristin’s own tongue and alternately battling and caressing it. Hardly knowing what she was doing, Kristin arched her body up to her friend, eager for more.
Shayna responded by cupping her hand around Kristin’s left breast, weighing it in her hand, then squeezing. Her other hand came up to do the same to its twin, leaving Kristin gasping for breath and writhing beneath her. Aroused by her friend’s reaction to her touch, Shayna slipped her hands under Kristin’s pyjama top and repeated her actions against bare skin, then followed up by tweaking her erect nipples.
Shayna’s pussy moistened as she watched the effect she was having on her friend. Kristin had now thrown her head back in ecstasy and her body was straining forward eager to be pleasured.
Shayna got off Kristin, then knelt on the floor between her legs. She reached up to pull down the other girl’s pyjama bottoms. Just as she discarded them and put her hands on her friend’s inner thighs, ready to part them and reveal the treasure within, she saw a movement in the corner of her eye. Dan. He was standing in the darkness at the bottom of the stairs. And who knew how long he’d been there.
By now Kristin had realised something was wrong, and followed Shayna’s horrified gaze to the shadows at the bottom of the stairs. Before either girl had chance to react, Dan moved forward out of the darkness.
‘Nice show, ladies. Don’t let me stop you.’ He stroked a palm over his pyjama-covered erection, and grinned.
‘But … aren’t you mad?’ Kristin asked.
Dan looked at his wife, who’d now curled her knees up to her chest in an effort to cover up, and said, ‘Are you going to leave me for Shayna?’
Kristin looked confused for a second, then shook her head.
‘No. I’m not even a lesbian. We were just …’
‘Fooling around. I know. And as long as that’s all it is, then I’m happy for it to continue. But in future, I want to know about it. Or even better, be involved. Come on, what guy doesn’t want to see his wife get it on with another woman?’
Kristin searched Shayna’s face for answers.
‘I’m happy if everyone else is.’
Kristin and Dan looked at one another, and nodded.
Slowly, shyly, Kristin unfurled her legs once more.
‘Just carry on with what you were doing before you saw me,’ said Dan. By now, he’d slid his hand inside his waistband and was stroking his heavy cock.
Shayna slid her hands up her friend’s thighs once more. This time she’d lost a little of her bravery, and she tentatively parted Kristin’s labia to reveal her glistening core and swollen clit. She poked her tongue out and gave a long, luxurious lick from bottom to top, pressing harder when she got to the sensitive nub nestled inside its hood.
Kristin, still not quite believing what was going on, watched her friend. It felt so strange having someone other than Dan going down on her, it had been so long. And yet, it felt so damn good. Woman’s intuition meant that the other girl instinctively knew when to go harder, softer, faster, slower. Before long, Kristin was moaning loudly and clinging onto the sofa for dear life as her orgasm crashed over her.
Dan was now stroking his cock in earnest as he watched the two girls together. He’d stripped off his clothes and stood naked. Kristin glanced across at her husband in all his g
lory and was reminded of just how attractive she found him. She wanted to feel him inside her, and soon.
‘Babe, do you want to lick her out?’
Kristin nodded eagerly. She’d come back to herself a little after her climax, and was now desperate to taste the other woman’s arousal.
‘Get on your back. Naked, both of you. Then sit on her face.’
Neither girl questioned him. Seconds later, Kristin sank back onto the sofa, her body covering the length of it. Shayna straddled Kristin’s head and slowly lowered herself onto the other girl’s face. She’d positioned herself so she was facing Kristin’s feet. This meant she had a perfect view down her body and could watch Dan about to fuck his wife.
Squeezing his big frame onto the couch with the two girls, Dan could hardly believe his luck. His wife was just about to lick another woman’s pussy as he fucked her. Perhaps he’d wake up and discover it had all been a dream. But what the hell, he was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
He lifted one of Kristin’s legs to give him better access to her pussy. Glancing up, he could see that his wife had started eating out her best friend. Shayna was clearly very aroused, her pussy juices coated her friend’s lips and chin. Dan’s cock twitched in response. He ached to be inside Kristin’s cunt. But first, he’d get a show to remember.
‘Kristin? Do you want me inside you?’
‘Mmm-hmm.’
‘Then make her come. Make her come and I’ll fuck you.’
Both girls moaned as Kristin’s arms came up and clamped around Shayna’s thighs and pulled her tighter to her face. She started to lick, suck and nibble at the other girl’s folds and clit in earnest. Shayna lost her balance and stumbled forward a little. Her hands came out to steady herself and she grasped handfuls of Kristin’s breasts. Taking the opportunity, she squeezed and pinched at the soft plump flesh, eliciting moans from her friend, which in turn vibrated against her sex and turned her on further.
Best of Both: When You Just Can't Decide Page 7
