Friday, March 1, 2013

Slave Husband

By Cruel Wife

I am on the couch with my girlfriend Monica, both of us are fully dressed. My slave husband is on his knees on the floor, naked with his hands and feet tied up. Our lover Jorge is standing beside him with a whip in his hand, looking down at hubby with a scornful smile on his face. I love that expression.

Monica and I look at them with expectation. She fondles my breasts and very slowly she unbuttons my blouse. I turn my face towards her and kiss her deeply. Hubby is watching us from his low position.
 

"What are you staring at?"
 

 Jorge's voice is sharp. He gives hubby a hard kick in his back with the heel of his boot. Monica's hand is inside my blouse, my excitement is growing.
 

"I asked you a question, wimp."
 

Hubby gets a hard slap across his cheek from behind.
 

"You better answer your Master", I say.
 

"I am looking at my beautiful wife and her beautiful girlfriend", hubby answers.
 

"You are not allowed to", hisses Monica. "Keep your eyes closed."
 

The whole situation is perfect. We all get what we need. I get Monica's soft and warm closeness, her caresses over my body, her delightful lips against mine, her soft hair in my hands, her intoxicating scent. I get Jorge's wonderful body, his dark brown skin, the ripple of the muscles, the smile, the cruelty and the lust in his beautiful eyes. I enjoy intensely to see my hubby so helpless and humiliated on the floor, to see his devotion, the fear and pain in his face, the shaking body when the whip hits him. Without his presence we could never reach the mad randiness we aim for. His suffering, his moans and hollers and tears are what we need to reach the heights of pleasure. Yes, we are three sadists and one masochist. That is, in truth, a superb combination.
 

I feel Monica's warm breath in my ear and hear her urging whisper:
 

"Tell Jorge to whip him. I want to see our slave crouch on the floor."
 

She pinches one of my nipples hard. The pleasant pain rushes down to my abdomen and turns into wet lust. I catch Jorge's eyes and soundless I form the words "whip him" with my lips. He answers to our wish with a smile and a nod, raises his arm, waits, looks at me and Monica, looks down at my squatting hubby who now has his eyes closed and is unaware of when the first lash will fall. This is a moment I love. To see my beautiful lover in all his power, with the whip over his head and the wimp below. Jorge knows so well when to hit, he can read our faces, the expressions of our bodies, he gives us all the time we need to get in the right mood for his action. And I know he loves to watch us.

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