A Sex Toy's Revenge

Kurt came back presently, carrying a bundle of some sort, and said "Don't wash that off 'til you've served me breakfast in the morning." He paused, staring at me and breathing hard. "And don't think you're sleeping in my bed, you filthy whore." He threw the bundled blankets on the floor in front of me. "You can sleep on the floor." And he stalked off to bed.

I spread the blankets out and cried myself to sleep, wondering how things ever got this bad and wondering if I deserved it for having been unfaithful. I tried to quiet my mind, but it took me a long time to sleep.

When I woke, I had come to the realization that I didn't deserve this at all. A certain amount of BDSM play was one thing, but I knew that he had come to believe he really did own me, and he was no longer treating me as a person at all.

With these realizations came a certain amount of resolve, though I didn't know what to do yet. I didn't feel I could just walk out. He really would divorce me and try to wreck my life -- that seemed clear enough after last night. And I also found myself plagued with guilt, because so much of the abuse really turned me on, and I felt I must be sick to feel that way. It took me a long time to winnow out the good from the bad, and to realize that liking the game did not make me bad or sick -- it was the lack of respect from Kurt that was sick. I was only sick if I let him get away with it.

The next few days were more normal, though that seems like a strange term to use. Kurt's treatment of me was much like it had been in the months since my misstep. In the meantime, I was formulating a plan and checking out a few ideas...

And then, before I could put any of my plans into action, he did something else that showed how little he loved and respected me any more. Doms are supposed to care for their subs, but Kurt wasn't playing by any code of ethics. He was just using the Dom/sub lifestyle as cover for abusing me.

Saturday rolled around, Kurt's self-described favorite day of the week, and he told me he had big plans for me. A knot formed instantly in my stomach at the thought, but it loosened a little when he mentioned that we were going out. He said he bought me some new things to wear, and I started to get a little excited.

As soon as I saw what he got, though, my excitement evaporated. He spread out on the bed a tiny red miniskirt, thigh-high white stockings, impossibly high-heeled black patent leather shoes, and a white blouse that was so short I was sure it wouldn't completely cover the bottom of my breasts. I saw it had exactly two buttons. Noticeably absent was any type of undergarment, unless you counted the thigh-highs.

The clothes weren't the worst of it, though. From another bag he pulled a chain leash, a black leather collar, studded leather handcuffs, and other assorted paraphernalia that I couldn't quite sort out at first glance.

"No, Kurt." I tried to make my voice sound serious and resolute. "I'm not going out dressed like that."

His quiet grin was worse than if he had argued or yelled at me.

"We'll see," was all he said, and his voice chilled me so that I literally shivered. He went to get washed up, and I was left alone to imagine how the day was going to go. I was on my own -- I hadn't had time to put any of my ideas into motion yet.

When he came back from the bathroom he was dressed impeccably in a sleek olive Italian suit and a plum colored shirt open at the collar. Expensive leather loafers completed the casually wealthy look. Bastard. It pissed me off that I still found him attractive, and I tried not to show any sign of admiration.

"Time to get dressed," he said as cheerfully as if we were just going out on a dinner date. Which we may have been, but it sure wasn't the kind I had in mind.

"Look, Kurt, I told you..." and that's as far as I got.

He growled like an animal, "You will do as I say!" He grabbed up the glittering leash and the leather collar, and I thought for a moment he was going to beat me with the heavy chain, so I brought my arms up to cover my face. He grabbed me by my forearms, though, and forced me down onto the floor. The chain in his hand bit into my arm because he squeezed so tight. I fought against him, fought hard, but he was amazingly strong and wiry for such a small guy. He's thin and not much over 5' 9", so I was surprised at how quickly he wrestled me to the floor.

This was a whole new thing, and I was so scared I could hardly catch my breath. Yes, he manhandled me a lot, but I have always been at least somewhat complicit, up 'til now. This was the first time he had absolutely, against my will and with me fighting him, physically forced me to do something.

Once he had me on the floor, he knelt with his shins holding down my arms, and it hurt really badly. Before I knew it he put the collar on me and cinched it tight. He jumped up agilely and dragged me by the leash to a standing position, and before I could get my bearings he hauled me over to the ring in the ceiling he uses to tie me in a strappado. He climbed up on a chair, and hooked the leash through the steel ring up over my head. He pulled it tight and I had to stand on tiptoes to keep the collar from choking me.

He stepped back and looked at me, breathing hard. I was all but hanging by my neck, scared to death. I'd never seen him like this, ever.

He didn't say anything at all to me, just came up to me and started ripping my clothes off me. I had time to remember how I thought it would be so romantic to have a man want me so badly he tore my clothes off, but this wasn't romantic at all. I wasn't even sure he wanted me. He just wanted to humiliate me.

Once he had stripped me, he started putting on the clothes he had bought, dressing me like a doll. I tried to make it hard for him, twisting around when he tried to get the stockings on me, but he grabbed the leash and lifted, nearly lifting me off my feet, and the leather collar choked off my air. I was half afraid he was going to kill me, but he let me down before I grew too faint. It was just to remind me of who was in control.

I decided right then to just go along with it and get through the day. If I had thought being used in front of his friends was bad, I knew this had gotten so much worse. It strengthened my resolve to put my plans to work, but I had to get past today before I could do that, and I was clearly not in charge of my situation. Kurt had all the power, but he wasn't really in control either, and that frightened me horribly. I thought about how twisted he must really be to react this way to my affair, and I was ashamed that I had not been able to tell what he was really like when I married him. Even worse, I was ashamed that I still loved him. It made no sense, even to me, but there it was. Love or not, though, I knew he had gotten dangerous and that I had to get away for good.

And, I realized, I wanted revenge. Even as I hung there by a collar around the neck, my plans began to evolve.

Kurt got me dressed and put the heels on, which at least took some of the pressure off my neck. He cuffed my hands behind my back and then pulled my wrists up between my shoulder blades, wrenching my arms as he did, I cried out, but he paid no mind. He attached a length of chain from the cuffs to a steel loop at the back of the collar, effectively trussing me up with my arms behind my back. I was very thankful that I'm flexible, because it didn't really hurt after the initial twist.

Then he got some of the other things I hadn't been able to identify. The first was a gag. I had seen a ball gag before, but this was different -- it had a black ring in place of the ball, and when he put it on and strapped it tight, the ring wedged into my mouth and held it open. I tried to ask him to stop, knowing it was fruitless, but I couldn't even form words, so I just shut up. I began to drool almost immediately and had no way to stop it.

This was going to be so much worse than I thought it was going to be. Where could he possibly take me like this?

But he wasn't finished yet. He pulled from his bag of tricks a fine chain about 10 or 12 inches long with a clip at each end. I was puzzled until he lifted the blouse, and then I recognized what they were. I cried through the gag when the first clamp bit into my nipple. I have extremely sensitive nipples, and I've even been made to orgasm by a lover patiently nibbling and rubbing them and kissing my neck. So the pinch of the clamp was pretty painful, and the second one was worse because I knew it was coming. Once they were attached, the chain hung in front of my bare belly, dangling out from under the skimpy blouse. Most ladies like jewelry, but I'd never seen anything quite like this. Kurt tugged savagely at the chain to make sure the clamps were firmly in place, which caused the pain to flair all over again.

The last thing he pulled out was a butt plug. Not just any butt plug, either, but a plug with a tail attached, about two feet long and ringed like a raccoon or a tabby cat.

He held it up in my face, grinning cruelly, and said "Don't worry, this will be for later. My little whore will get to be my little pussy."

I shook my head and babbled sounds of protest through the ring gag, but I knew it would make no difference.

He unhooked the leash from the metal ring and took me to the garage, getting me settled in the car and seatbelted in, which was tricky because of my arms up behind me. I had to sit forward in the seat, which was uncomfortable, but I was sure he didn't care.

He drove for quite a while, and I wasn't really able to pay attention exactly where we were. I didn't recognize the area at all, in any case, and I was thankful for that. I certainly didn't want to run into anyone we knew.

Kurt pulled into a big mall, and my heart sank a little. Saturday in a mall, and I was going to be paraded around looking like this. I felt tears welling up again, which only made me drool more. He parked the car and reached across to unfasten my seatbelt. He got out the butt plug and put some lube on it, and told me to turn around and bend over. I didn't want to, and it was awkward anyway, so I was slow about moving, and he ended up grabbing the chain holding my wrists to my collar and jerking me around. He pushed me over, raised the skirt, and pushed the butt plug into my ass. It wasn't a small plug, and it had a steep neck section to keep it in place, and I gasped as my anus slipped over the widest section and snapped into the narrow neck. He hadn't given me any time to relax, and my muscles spasmed and quivered around the intruding plug.

Kurt got out of the car and came around to open my door, pulling me out of the car and clipping the leash to his belt right above his crotch. The message was unmistakable. We walked into the mall, and I felt my face burning as we entered the crowd. Teenage boys and middle-aged men alike stared in a mix of disbelief, disgust, and unbridled lust. Some women even looked at me like they wouldn't mind being me, or maybe leading me around. Families tried to shield their children. I tried to avert my eyes but there was nowhere to look. Most people just looked quickly away, embarrassed or offended. A few comments made it to my ears, making my heart ache with shame. None of them were sympathetic.

We made a couple of laps around the mall and looked in a couple of the shops before a mall cop came up to us, telling us we were causing a disturbance and needed to leave. He tried but couldn't keep his eyes off the chain dangling from my breasts and the tail swishing under my skirt.

Almost as an afterthought, he finally looked at my face and asked, "Are you all right, ma'am?"

I glanced quickly at Kurt, and then at the mall cop and nodded yes, and Kurt lead me away.

When we got back to the car, Kurt buckled me in without even taking the butt plug out. Sitting was more uncomfortable than ever.

"I'm famished," Kurt announced as he got himself buckled in, as if nothing were at all unusual about our outing. "Time for some lunch."

He drove a short distance to a busy chain diner. I didn't even try to protest as he led me inside, and I was too tired to care about the hostess' pitying, disgusted look as she seated us. When Kurt ordered, he told the waitress, "My wife won't be eating, today, so just a glass of water for her, please." Then he ordered a delicious meal for himself. It says a lot about my state of mind that I was very thankful for the water, because my mouth was dry now from being held open by the ring gag.

I had to sit and wait while Kurt ate. It smelled so good, and I was hungry, too, so my tummy growled while I waited. I thought he'd forgotten about the water, but once he finished his meal, he reached for my glass. I figured he would take the gag out so I could drink, but instead he dipped the straw in and put his finger over the end, then let the water drain into my mouth. It's really hard to swallow when your mouth is held open, and of course I dribbled down my chin, and of course Kurt didn't wipe it up. He was patient enough to feed me the whole glass, though. The bad news, then, was that I had to pee. I finally made myself understood, and Kurt laughed. I was so mad at him for laughing at me.

"Tell you what, I'll hold your tail in the parking lot if you have to pee that bad."

I glared at him, but I couldn't go to the bathroom on my own with my hands trussed up. So when we got outside, I hunkered down next to the car, and Kurt held the tail off the ground, and I peed on the asphalt like a drunk teenager. People walked by, but I didn't even care. I kind of hoped we'd get arrested, but no police came, and we got back in the car.

Kurt reached over and tugged the chain attached to the nipple clamps. I grunted at his roughness, but it didn't really hurt that much.

"Hhhhmmmm," he muttered, "we might need to give those nips a rest for a while."

With that he jerked on the chain and the clamp on my right nipple tore loose, and I let out a scream. The pain of the clamp being jerked off was bad, but then sensation started to flood back in to the nipple and that was damn near excruciating. While I was still moaning and whimpering, Kurt took up the chain again and tugged tauntingly on the clamp still attached to my left nipple. I begged as best I could with the gag in my mouth, and he relented. He raised up the short blouse and unclamped the thing slowly, but I think that made it even worse, because when the pain struck there was no shock to cover it. He reached under the shirt with both hands and massaged my breasts and nipples, and if hurt like hell, but soon the worst of it passed. When he put my shirt back down I was so tender the material hurt, though.

He drove us around some more until we got to a seedy looking part of town. I still didn't really know where we were, but he parked on the street and pulled me out onto the sidewalk. I tried to get him to release my hands because my arms and shoulders ached, but I couldn't speak clearly and he mocked me so I shut up. He did check my arms, though, and said my color was still good. As if he was a damned doctor. Bastard.

Right there in the street, Kurt raised up the blouse and reattached the nipple clamps. Good grief did they hurt this time. All the feeling had come back, plus my nipples felt as though they had been sanded. He hooked the handle of the leash around his belt again, and then unclipped the other end from my collar and clipped it on the chain hanging from my breasts. The weight dragged uncomfortably on them, and I had to be careful to move when he did.

I looked around the street again. There were people around, but they all looked like they would rather join in than call 911 if I was being raped. The few businesses -- liquor store, grocery, smoke shop, greasy spoon -- looked scarcely better than the many boarded up storefronts. I couldn't imagine what the hell we were doing here.

Having gotten my leash all rearranged, Kurt got a fat magic marker out of the glove box. He bent over and started writing on my belly. I tried to get away but he pulled up hard on the leash, lifting the bottom edge of the blouse up over my breasts and bringing me to my toes. I acquiesced and he finished what he was writing. I looked down to see "CHEATING WHORE -- TOUCH ME" written across my abdomen.

We started off down the street. He made sure to lead me past any group of people who happened to be milling around. Most just called out obscenities or wolf-whistled, but a few took Kurt up on his offer, and he paused to let them fondle my breasts or lift my skirt to look at the butt plug tail or slap my ass. One guy slid his fingers as far in my mouth as he could get them through the ring gag before I knew what he was doing. It was like he was trying to gag me, and I jerked back, coughing and trying to spit. It was just disgusting. If I hadn't planned on getting revenge before, I certainly was now.

We continued for a couple of blocks and turned a corner to find an adult book store. I knew right away that this was exactly why we were in this part of town. My stomach hurt again, because I've heard stories about these "bookstores," and I was scared to death that Kurt was going to let complete strangers fuck me or something. I was totally trussed up still, and I knew I wouldn't get any help here. I thought I might throw up.

Kurt led me in, and we passed through the storefront to an unobtrusive doorway. After a series of knocks, the door opened, money changed hands, and we were admitted without a word. It occurred to me that the guy seemed to know Kurt, which didn't surprise me. Not much surprised me anymore about my husband.

We went down a dim hallway with doors opening off of it every few feet. Movie booths, or worse, I thought. Further along the hallway there was a sort of lobby with a couple of dingy looking couches and a few faded looking people hanging about, both men and women. Kurt sat on one of the couches but made me stand beside him. He reached up and pulled at the front of the blouse, popping the two buttons off and leaving it hanging partway open. I moaned and I felt tears burning again. He hooked the leash back onto the collar and wrapped the loose end around his fist.

I couldn't believe we were here. How did this happen? Was he going to whore me out to someone? I felt terribly sick again.

Quite a few men passed through, and it didn't take me long to figure out the women there were prostitutes. I don't know if the men were clients, pimps, boyfriends or what, but a few of them just hung around the lobby while others came and went. Every kind of guy showed up, from nicely dressed high-roller types to dirty street people. Several guys wanted to buy my time, but each time Kurt refused, much to my relief. But he did point to the writing, and tell them they were welcome to touch. The guys here were even more aggressive than the men on the street, and didn't hesitate to reach between my legs and try to rub my pussy or grope my breasts. I squirmed to avoid them, but Kurt held me tight. I was crying now, but that just seemed to excite some of them. One guy insisted on pulling the butt plug out and putting back in, several times over. Most of the lube was gone, and it really hurt.

A heavy-set, nicely dressed guy, maybe 50 or 60 years old, really insisted on paying for me and taking me into one of the little rooms. I mean REALLY insisted. Kurt refused, but the man wasn't easily swayed.

"Come on, just let her give me a blowjob, at least. I'll make it worth your while."

"I don't need your money, pal. You want to touch her right here, feel free." Kurt waved a hand at the marker scrawl on my belly. "Now, I mean no offense, but I don't want her catching some disease and giving it to me. Nobody fucks her that I don't know. Nobody."