Sex stories

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A Submissive's Revenge Ch. 02

~ Escalation ~

You would think that I'd have a deep-seated anger toward my husband for the treatments I'd experienced. That impression would be wrong. During the week, we were a regular couple, married for many years. Greg is a wonder loving husband. We have "normal" sexual relations (whatever that is) during the week, but I had never once achieved orgasm under those circumstances. The only way I could get off was to be subjugated, humiliated and forced. Almost from the beginning of our arrangement, I blamed myself for anything that may have gone too far and chided myself when I was too afraid I hadn't gone far enough.

We continued with our candle play off and on for a couple more months with additions and variations, but for me it soon went from an evening of multiple phenomenal climaxes, to a couple of enjoyable ones, down to a single moan midway thru. Once again, the sex drug was losing its effect. I needed a fix of something more powerful, daring and dangerous. Greg promised me a fix that would take me to new heights.

Our dungeon play was always strictly limited to Fridays and Saturdays and on a cool Saturday evening in February, I was once again chained to the wall, this time standing. My feet were bare, but I wore a mid-length dress that had lots of sheer fabric. It reminded me of my high school graduation gown. I was blindfolded and my feet were beginning to hurt since I'd been restrained in a standing position for over an hour, awaiting my fate.

From upstairs, I heard Greg's footsteps across the hardwood. Then a creek of the floorboards told me he was in the front foyer. I listened as the front door opened with a familiar squeak of its hinges, I heard him speak in a muffled voice, and then other voices became audible. Male voices. I counted the different ones. Two. Three. There were at least three other men at our front door. Even more surprising, I heard a woman's voice.

"She's downstairs in the basement. She's been waiting for it," Greg said in a deliberate volume that assured I could hear. "The slut's all yours."

My heart began to race. I knew what was about to happen. My mind wrestled with whether I wanted it to happen. I'd never been disloyal to Greg. I'd never looked at another man since we'd been together. Did I really want this to happen? I turn it over and over in my mind as the door opened and I heard footsteps on the wooden stairway. I could see the light from upstairs around the corners of my blindfold.

"Mmmm, you weren't kidding, she's pretty." A male hand stroked my face and sandy blond hair. It felt rough, the hands of someone who used them for a living. Greg's hands are large and strong, but not as calloused and chapped. He began to grope my breasts.

I could feel a tingle at my pussy, growing in intensity. My mind still vexed by this state of affairs, but my libido had gone ahead, as it often did, and decided it wanted whatever could be melded out that night. A trickle of my juice ran down my leg and beaded at my ankle. Please, don't let them see this, I though still desirous of some form of dignity.

"Well, looky there. She's running like a cheap faucet," I heard the woman's voice say. As bad as it felt to have the men notice, it seemed far worse to have the woman discover my lack of control. "She wants you boys."

I heard a click and felt a sudden glowing warmth. Even through my eye covers, I could see the stark concentration of a flood light focused on me. Around the edges of my blindfold I stared into a harsh blear of white light. Savagely the blindfold was pulled away. I could see nothing else but the light. With my aching eyes blinded, I looked away. From the side, I could vaguely make out figures standing there, observing me.

"I'm not sure about this." My voice wavered. I detected four men other than Greg and a woman. I wished I could have held a hand over my eyes, but they were tightly constrained by the wrist cuffs.

"Don't you even think of saying the word. You're going to put out to every one of our guests. Show some manners." Greg's voice was harsh and loud. "You've always wanted this, haven't you? You think about fucking other men every time I have sex with you."

"No. I don't. I've only wanted to please you." I was scared and confused.

"Admit it. You're a slut. Say it, skank." Greg said it inches away from my ear.

"All right. I have fanaticized. I've wondered what it would be like."

The man with the rough hands stood in front of me. I could almost see his face. His head partially obscured the searing light. "Tonight, Mindy, you're going to find out." His coarse hands tore away at my dress. The dress was ripped apart and torn from my body. Moments later, I was naked before all the guests in the dungeon, my dress reduced to rags at my feet.

"I want to get her warmed up," I heard the woman say. I felt her hands run over me. She was dressed in leather, black with rows of silver pointed studs on her vest. She had on a short leather skirt and high-heeled boots. I felt the sting of the tip of a riding crop. It cracked as it made contact with the flesh of my breasts. I winced and yipped.

More stings from the crop registered across my body at random places. Each time there was a definitive crack and a telltale mark remained. At last, she stopped and kissed me. I'm never had a lesbian encounter prior to that, although I had wondered what one would be like.

I'd pictured an intimate moment exploring ach others soft bodies and tender caresses leading to exaltation of exploring her vagina and tasting her unique nectars. Yet, there I was on display for five leering men, observing and transforming it into spectacle.

She flicked the ring thru my clit a few times, while laughing at me and I came. No, came wasn't the right word. I exploded. I lost all control. I squealed and breathed ferociously. I heard the men laugh, but I didn't care that they'd seem me pop. I kept going on and on in an extended frenzy. Unembarrassed, I was more naked that I'd been in my entire life. Everything was exposed, body, mind and soul. I lacked the will to hold anything back.

My eyes had grown accustomed to the harsh light and I saw more of the men surrounding me as I slowly recovered my senses. The men were mostly naked, their cocks rigid and waiting to have at me. They were not handsome men. They were rugged almost to the point of being brutish in appearance. All were larger than Greg, who was a big muscular male in his own right. Greg was nearly a head taller than me and these other males were several inches above him. Two of them had middle-aged guts, but all had thick powerful arms. I guessed they might have been dock or even oil field workers.

Only Greg remained completely clothed. He pulled a jingling key ring from his pocket and unlocked my manacles. He looked accusingly into my eyes. "You wanted this. You always do. Don't think you can get out of it now." I was pushed onto the mat on the floor.

"Please, I'm not sure I can do this." It wouldn't have been so intimidating had it not been a motley pitiless crowd, but I wanted to run. The word Mars formed on my lips.

Greg seized my mouth and in a forbidding glower said, "No, you fucking bitch. Don't even think of it. You're getting what you need and deserve."

He released my face and said to the crowd, "This is the only way this freak can get herself off. Have at her."

With that, I felt a cock jammed into my cunt. Hands grasp at my nipples and I shrieked at what was happening to me. Maybe I had been a willing participant or unable to resist up to that point. It had become forced upon me and I had no choice but to endure the forthcoming onslaught.

Greg stood over me as I squatted being taken doggy style, my knees bent to my chest, as an unnamed man thrust himself into me. Greg began to take pictures with his cell phone. Greg walked around me snapping away as another cock was pushed between my lips. He focused in on my face as tears began to roll down my cheeks.

I wasn't sure, but I believed Greg had been trading pictures of my sexual degradation with other men who subjected their partners to similar treatments. I despised the idea, but accepted it as a part of my servitude.

Then the worst of it came. I climaxed again. I screamed at the top pf my lungs. Mindless I yelled, "Harder, pump it harder." I was a co-conspirator in my own being forced.

I felt the first assailant ejaculate inside me. At least he'd worn a condom. He withdrew without a hint of compassion and pulled off the rubber. His junk was deposited into a bowl on the floor. "Lick it up, slut. Every drop. All for you."

I glared at him standing there as someone else's cock was inserted into me. His face was taught and remorseless. His foot was placed on top of my head and I was pushed toward the bowl. I lapped at the warm jizz and drank it in a few gulps.

My arms and leg were filthy from the dust and grim on the floor. Black soot splotches covered some of the red riding crop marks on the rest of my body. I came once more in yet another powerful wave. I hated myself for doing it. I should have fought back, I should have say no. My need to feel the inevitable surge of my next orgasm prevented me from doing it.

For the next two hours, I was gang banged repeatedly. When the last male was finished, the first was ready to go again and freely took me. I came with each of them, in some cases twice. They left exhausted and drained. I could have gone for more. I wanted more. I pleaded for more, but they were done with me. It would be a full week before I'd be able to cum again. I knew that by Monday, I'd stop despising myself and begin to crave the action, like I was undergoing withdrawal from a powerful drug, the orgasm, the most powerful of all drugs.

Greg didn't provide my fix that next weekend. Instead, he incorporated my enforced cuckolding of him into his dominance routine. Again and again, I was reminded how I'd fucked other men and plead for it. In truth, I wanted that, I wanted that high badly. I knew he'd withhold it until he was ready.

It wasn't until I'd broken down and actually called out our safe word only to have him ignore me, that I realized I was an addict and he my enabler.

~ ~ ~ End of Chapter 2 of 3 ~ ~ ~~ Escalation ~

You would think that I'd have a deep-seated anger toward my husband for the treatments I'd experienced. That impression would be wrong. During the week, we were a regular couple, married for many years. Greg is a wonder loving husband. We have "normal" sexual relations (whatever that is) during the week, but I had never once achieved orgasm under those circumstances. The only way I could get off was to be subjugated, humiliated and forced. Almost from the beginning of our arrangement, I blamed myself for anything that may have gone too far and chided myself when I was too afraid I hadn't gone far enough.

We continued with our candle play off and on for a couple more months with additions and variations, but for me it soon went from an evening of multiple phenomenal climaxes, to a couple of enjoyable ones, down to a single moan midway thru. Once again, the sex drug was losing its effect. I needed a fix of something more powerful, daring and dangerous. Greg promised me a fix that would take me to new heights.

Our dungeon play was always strictly limited to Fridays and Saturdays and on a cool Saturday evening in February, I was once again chained to the wall, this time standing. My feet were bare, but I wore a mid-length dress that had lots of sheer fabric. It reminded me of my high school graduation gown. I was blindfolded and my feet were beginning to hurt since I'd been restrained in a standing position for over an hour, awaiting my fate.

From upstairs, I heard Greg's footsteps across the hardwood. Then a creek of the floorboards told me he was in the front foyer. I listened as the front door opened with a familiar squeak of its hinges, I heard him speak in a muffled voice, and then other voices became audible. Male voices. I counted the different ones. Two. Three. There were at least three other men at our front door. Even more surprising, I heard a woman's voice.

"She's downstairs in the basement. She's been waiting for it," Greg said in a deliberate volume that assured I could hear. "The slut's all yours."

My heart began to race. I knew what was about to happen. My mind wrestled with whether I wanted it to happen. I'd never been disloyal to Greg. I'd never looked at another man since we'd been together. Did I really want this to happen? I turn it over and over in my mind as the door opened and I heard footsteps on the wooden stairway. I could see the light from upstairs around the corners of my blindfold.

"Mmmm, you weren't kidding, she's pretty." A male hand stroked my face and sandy blond hair. It felt rough, the hands of someone who used them for a living. Greg's hands are large and strong, but not as calloused and chapped. He began to grope my breasts.

I could feel a tingle at my pussy, growing in intensity. My mind still vexed by this state of affairs, but my libido had gone ahead, as it often did, and decided it wanted whatever could be melded out that night. A trickle of my juice ran down my leg and beaded at my ankle. Please, don't let them see this, I though still desirous of some form of dignity.

"Well, looky there. She's running like a cheap faucet," I heard the woman's voice say. As bad as it felt to have the men notice, it seemed far worse to have the woman discover my lack of control. "She wants you boys."

I heard a click and felt a sudden glowing warmth. Even through my eye covers, I could see the stark concentration of a flood light focused on me. Around the edges of my blindfold I stared into a harsh blear of white light. Savagely the blindfold was pulled away. I could see nothing else but the light. With my aching eyes blinded, I looked away. From the side, I could vaguely make out figures standing there, observing me.

"I'm not sure about this." My voice wavered. I detected four men other than Greg and a woman. I wished I could have held a hand over my eyes, but they were tightly constrained by the wrist cuffs.

"Don't you even think of saying the word. You're going to put out to every one of our guests. Show some manners." Greg's voice was harsh and loud. "You've always wanted this, haven't you? You think about fucking other men every time I have sex with you."

"No. I don't. I've only wanted to please you." I was scared and confused.

"Admit it. You're a slut. Say it, skank." Greg said it inches away from my ear.

"All right. I have fanaticized. I've wondered what it would be like."

The man with the rough hands stood in front of me. I could almost see his face. His head partially obscured the searing light. "Tonight, Mindy, you're going to find out." His coarse hands tore away at my dress. The dress was ripped apart and torn from my body. Moments later, I was naked before all the guests in the dungeon, my dress reduced to rags at my feet.

"I want to get her warmed up," I heard the woman say. I felt her hands run over me. She was dressed in leather, black with rows of silver pointed studs on her vest. She had on a short leather skirt and high-heeled boots. I felt the sting of the tip of a riding crop. It cracked as it made contact with the flesh of my breasts. I winced and yipped.

More stings from the crop registered across my body at random places. Each time there was a definitive crack and a telltale mark remained. At last, she stopped and kissed me. I'm never had a lesbian encounter prior to that, although I had wondered what one would be like.

I'd pictured an intimate moment exploring ach others soft bodies and tender caresses leading to exaltation of exploring her vagina and tasting her unique nectars. Yet, there I was on display for five leering men, observing and transforming it into spectacle.

She flicked the ring thru my clit a few times, while laughing at me and I came. No, came wasn't the right word. I exploded. I lost all control. I squealed and breathed ferociously. I heard the men laugh, but I didn't care that they'd seem me pop. I kept going on and on in an extended frenzy. Unembarrassed, I was more naked that I'd been in my entire life. Everything was exposed, body, mind and soul. I lacked the will to hold anything back.

My eyes had grown accustomed to the harsh light and I saw more of the men surrounding me as I slowly recovered my senses. The men were mostly naked, their cocks rigid and waiting to have at me. They were not handsome men. They were rugged almost to the point of being brutish in appearance. All were larger than Greg, who was a big muscular male in his own right. Greg was nearly a head taller than me and these other males were several inches above him. Two of them had middle-aged guts, but all had thick powerful arms. I guessed they might have been dock or even oil field workers.

Only Greg remained completely clothed. He pulled a jingling key ring from his pocket and unlocked my manacles. He looked accusingly into my eyes. "You wanted this. You always do. Don't think you can get out of it now." I was pushed onto the mat on the floor.

"Please, I'm not sure I can do this." It wouldn't have been so intimidating had it not been a motley pitiless crowd, but I wanted to run. The word Mars formed on my lips.

Greg seized my mouth and in a forbidding glower said, "No, you fucking bitch. Don't even think of it. You're getting what you need and deserve."

He released my face and said to the crowd, "This is the only way this freak can get herself off. Have at her."

With that, I felt a cock jammed into my cunt. Hands grasp at my nipples and I shrieked at what was happening to me. Maybe I had been a willing participant or unable to resist up to that point. It had become forced upon me and I had no choice but to endure the forthcoming onslaught.

Greg stood over me as I squatted being taken doggy style, my knees bent to my chest, as an unnamed man thrust himself into me. Greg began to take pictures with his cell phone. Greg walked around me snapping away as another cock was pushed between my lips. He focused in on my face as tears began to roll down my cheeks.

I wasn't sure, but I believed Greg had been trading pictures of my sexual degradation with other men who subjected their partners to similar treatments. I despised the idea, but accepted it as a part of my servitude.

Then the worst of it came. I climaxed again. I screamed at the top pf my lungs. Mindless I yelled, "Harder, pump it harder." I was a co-conspirator in my own being forced.

I felt the first assailant ejaculate inside me. At least he'd worn a condom. He withdrew without a hint of compassion and pulled off the rubber. His junk was deposited into a bowl on the floor. "Lick it up, slut. Every drop. All for you."

I glared at him standing there as someone else's cock was inserted into me. His face was taught and remorseless. His foot was placed on top of my head and I was pushed toward the bowl. I lapped at the warm jizz and drank it in a few gulps.

My arms and leg were filthy from the dust and grim on the floor. Black soot splotches covered some of the red riding crop marks on the rest of my body. I came once more in yet another powerful wave. I hated myself for doing it. I should have fought back, I should have say no. My need to feel the inevitable surge of my next orgasm prevented me from doing it.

For the next two hours, I was gang banged repeatedly. When the last male was finished, the first was ready to go again and freely took me. I came with each of them, in some cases twice. They left exhausted and drained. I could have gone for more. I wanted more. I pleaded for more, but they were done with me. It would be a full week before I'd be able to cum again. I knew that by Monday, I'd stop despising myself and begin to crave the action, like I was undergoing withdrawal from a powerful drug, the orgasm, the most powerful of all drugs.

Greg didn't provide my fix that next weekend. Instead, he incorporated my enforced cuckolding of him into his dominance routine. Again and again, I was reminded how I'd fucked other men and plead for it. In truth, I wanted that, I wanted that high badly. I knew he'd withhold it until he was ready.

It wasn't until I'd broken down and actually called out our safe word only to have him ignore me, that I realized I was an addict and he my enabler.

~ ~ ~ End of Chapter 2 of 3 ~ ~ ~

submissive's   revenge  

Feb 7, 2018 in bdsm

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