A Sex Toy's Revenge

The man eyed me, and then turned back to Kurt. The reptilian light in his eye made me stifle a sob. He gave me the creeps, and Kurt's words hurt, badly. He wasn't protecting me from being treated like a prostitute. He just didn't want to catch an STD.

"Your wife, huh? Cheated?" Lizard man leered at me, lifting one edge of the blouse to get a better view of my breasts.

"Yeah," Kurt grunted back. His mood seemed to have grown darker with the man's insistence.

"Tell you what. I'll give you a thousand bucks to let me jerk off on her face." He paused, then glanced at a skinny girl that looked like she couldn't have been over 18. She was lounging on the other couch, steadfastly ignoring us. "Better yet, how about she gives me my blowjob," he hissed, nodding toward the girl, "and then I bust my nut on your wife's face."

I couldn't stand the idea of this guy's cum on me, and I started arguing with Kurt, though I couldn't really speak for the gag. My jaw hurt, my arms hurt, my feet hurt from the shoes, my nipples hurt from the clamps, my ass hurt, and I was just about to lose it. I just started bawling, and I could feel streamers of saliva dripping down my chin onto my chest.

I think that is what decided things for Kurt.

"A thousand bucks, and you can cum on her tits. And I get to watch."

I don't even want to describe the scene with Lizard man. The room was tiny, and it was filthy, and there was hardly room for all of us. It stunk of sweat, stale semen, and desperation. There was no bed or anything, only a folding chair and a video screen setup along with a little shuttered window. Kurt sat on the chair in a corner. I had to kneel down and the guy spread open my blouse. He did take a few minutes to suck at my breasts and pull on the nipple clamps. Then the tired looking, skinny hooker got on her knees beside me and blew him. She looked much older than 18 up close, and I had time to wonder if she just looked old from drugs and abuse, or if she was really older. The whole thing had the excitement and passion of a visit to the dentist, and I wondered how anybody could get off from the cursory efforts of this poor girl, but it really didn't take long.

Lizard man let out a perfunctory groan, pulled his cock out of the girl's mouth and sprayed me with jism. He aimed at my chest, but the squirts of semen went in all different directions. Most of it ended up on my breasts and blouse, but I felt a few drops on my chin and neck. Even his cum seemed greasy and unsavory.

And that was that. Everyone went their own way and Kurt led me out into the street again. I glanced down at myself, and I was a mess again. I had white goo dripping from my skin, my blouse hung open because the buttons were torn off, the marker was getting smeared, and I had big dirty stains on the knees of my thigh-highs from the years of filth embedded in the carpet of that dingy little room.

Kurt pulled on the leash and led me into the street and back to the car. If the walk to the bookstore was bad, this was ten times worse. Everyone seemed to notice all my stains, and knew what had happened. Eventually, though, we got to the car. Kurt took the ring gag off, thank goodness, and tossed it onto the car seat. I worked my jaw to relieve the sore stiffness, and I was shocked to hear myself thanking him - THANKING him, for heaven's sake - for taking the gag out. Never mind all the shit he had put me through. But I was relieved my ordeal was about over, and gratitude welled up in spite of it all.

I asked him to unhook my arms, please, and I was dismayed when he said "Not quite yet." Would this day never end?

He stood with his back in the open car door frame and unzipped his pants, letting his hard cock out into the open air. I gasped and looked up and down the street again. Except for the men who seemed to hang around perpetually, there was no real traffic. This was a dead part of town. Kurt took me by my hair and pulled my face to his groin, and I sank to my knees.

"No, not on your knees. Stand up!" he ordered me.

I stood back up, and bent at the waist as he pulled me down. It was a stretch, standing in those high heels, and I felt the strain in my hamstrings and back.

He started fucking my mouth without ceremony. I was still helplessly trussed, so I had little choice but to let him. He hadn't shown much reaction back at the bookstore, so I was surprised at how much pent up sexual energy he was unleashing. That, or just anger -- it was hard to tell which.

A few of the men nearby gathered around to watch. I thought the little crowd might cause the police to show up, but I guess the police don't hang around here much. The few cars that passed just slowed down for a look and then drove on by.

Bent over like this, I knew my ass was hanging out, showing the damned butt plug tail. I felt hands on my bottom, on the back of my head shoving me harder against Kurt's thrusts, and fondling my breasts clumsily. I heard someone laugh as the tugged a bit at the tail and twirled it around. A couple of people had cell phones out, recording the action, and I hoped I would be unrecognizable when the videos inevitably hit the internet.

I heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled hastily down, and I moaned, trying to get Kurt's attention.

"Uh-uh," Kurt said, sounding like he owned the damned street, "hands only, buddy." I don't know why they listened to him, but he had a kind of natural authority, I guess. For all I knew, he did own this street, or at least had a lot of pull here. I don't know, but was glad to hear the guy zip back up.

The most humiliating thing to me is that I found myself getting turned on by being exposed, by all the hands and attention, and also by Kurt's display of calm authority. I cursed myself for thinking any kind of positive thought about him. And god help me, I cursed myself for the wetness I felt between my legs. I kept thinking "Just cum, you bastard, and get me out of here."

And, soon enough, he did.

He took me home without much ado. When he took off the chains, cuffs, and collar, I was so stiff I could hardly straighten my arms back out. The nipple clamps left my nerve ending screaming with agony as feeling flooded back in, but I hardly had the energy to moan in pain. After stripping me naked, he left the house. I showered, soaked in the tub, and showered again.

I knew I had to do something. The first couple of months had been OK, even exciting, but this was quickly escalating. I knew he didn't really love me anymore, and it broke my heart. But it also gave me strength to put my plan in motion.

Kurt came home very late that night, and left again Sunday morning, telling me I'd better have dinner ready for him by 8:00.

I spent the day on the phone and on the internet, making plans for my revenge. I had a few things to wrap up Monday while Kurt was at work, but it seemed things were going to come together. I needed them to, badly, before something even worse happened to me.

I wasn't touched Sunday night, except for the usual manhandling and verbal degradation. At least I ate my dinner at the table instead of from a bowl on the floor.

Monday came at last. I made a final phone call or two, and accepted one visitor. If he was disconcerted by having to deal with a woman wearing nothing but a bath towel, he didn't show it. He was very polite and extremely helpful. He taught me exactly what I needed to know. I guess he was used to dealing with all kinds of strangeness from wealthy clients.

The only thing I hadn't exactly figured out was how to get Kurt into the handcuffs to begin with. I knew this part of my plan was an unnecessary risk, but I couldn't help it. I wanted revenge.

A solution presented itself in the form of 6 male strippers I hired from a high-end escort service. Once they heard my story, they were happy to arrive at the house a little before Kurt got home. The huge check I wrote them from our joint account didn't hurt, either.

At last, everything was arranged, and all I had to do was wait for the bastard to come home.

Having a little time to reflect, I found myself thinking about some of the things I wanted to do after this was over. So much of what happened between Kurt and me had come from a bad, bad place -- real abuse -- but I learned some things about myself. I learned I liked giving up control, but not to a person who no longer cares for me or respects me. I have been so excited by a lot of things that I've been forced to do, and I really liked the component of pain and submission in some sexual acts. I only wish they had happened under different circumstances. I hoped to explore some of these things with someone who understood and cared...

I was drawn out of my reverie by the sound of voices on the doorstep, then the doorbell chime. I'd lost track of the time. The dancers were here already. I shivered, suddenly nervous, and went to answer the door.

I realized with a shock that I had been imagining a future without Kurt - a first for me. I had to shake all these thoughts and feelings out of my head. It was time to focus -- I had a big night planned.

As soon as Kurt came through the door that evening after work, he was on alert. The guys had parked down the street so there was no car in the driveway, but he seemed to sense something was up. It was probably my feelings of anxiety and excitement showing through. He went through his usual routine of making me crawl and lick his expensive leather shoes, and then went into the bedroom to change. The air seemed charged with electricity.

After he went in, the guys I had hired came out of the guest bedroom and stood against the wall on either side of the door. Kurt is quick and wiry, and I was worried, but these men were all weightlifters and dancers, and they grabbed and cuffed him handily as soon as he came out. They brought him into the living room and I tied him to a wooden kitchen chair while they held him. I had been practicing knots for the last two days, and was proud of my work. His hands, arms, and legs were all tied securely to the chair with his hands behind his back -- he wasn't going anywhere. He was yelling and cursing his head off, though, so I gagged him with a kitchen towel. He stopped yelling and just glared.

"If you'll be quiet I'll take the gag out. Nobody will hear you anyway, you know that. Besides, it'll be fun! You like seeing other guys touch your wife, right?"

He struggled at the ropes and looked like he'd like to strangle me, but eventually he nodded, settling back in resignation. I took the gag out and stepped away from him. Somehow he seemed dangerous, even tied up.

I handed one of the strippers a pair of scissors, and stood back to watch as he cut every stitch of clothing off Kurt's body. It was tricky, and the clothes were in shreds by the time he finished. Kurt was fuming, but all he said was "You're gonna get it now, you fucking bitch."

My die was cast. There was no turning back, and I knew I would get my divorce now, for good or ill. But I thought I knew how to make it go in my favor, at least a little.

I served the guys some expensive scotch from the liquor cabinet, and we sat talking for a little bit. I filled them in on some of the debasing things I had been made to do. Kurt looked confused, wondering why nothing was happening, why I was telling these strangers all this stuff. He had to know, from the costumes the men wore, that they were strippers. What he didn't know was that we were waiting for one more guest.

Presently the doorbell rang and I went to answer it. I was naked, as usual, but I knew who to expect. I returned to the living room with my arm around the waist of a curvy, beautiful Latina with shining, long black hair wearing a beautiful, form-fitting sapphire dress that scooped low to show her ample cleavage.

"Kurt, I believe you know Ana." I swept my arm toward the troupe of dancers and said, "Gentlemen, this is Adriana. I call her Ana." And I gave a kiss on the side of her mouth.

"What is that fucking cunt doing in my house?!" Kurt raged. "Get her out of here!"

You see, Adriana is the woman I had the affair with. She had been my personal trainer, and we became really, really close. The affair was a short, amazingly intense fling that surprised us both.

I was ecstatic, when I called her on Sunday, to find that she still wanted to see me, that she was willing to help me in my plans to be free of Kurt. I hadn't talked to her since the affair blew up in my face, and I was afraid she'd be mad, but she was very sympathetic and kind.

My phone calls yesterday had been very productive, as you can see.

"She's my guest, and she's staying, at least while this house is still partly mine."

I thought his head would explode, he got so red, but the veins pulsing in his neck and forehead held strong. I had just a moment to be disappointed that he didn't stroke out right then, but I really didn't want that, and I just as quickly felt guilty for the thought.

Ana and I settled onto the couch and the dancers fired up the sound system and went into their routine. There weren't usually more dancers than audience members, but they knew this was a special case and adapted with ease. And pleasure, I might add -- they seemed to be having a great time, even enjoying Kurt's glowering countenance. This was turning out to be priceless.

Well, not exactly priceless. It was costing Kurt a boatload of money.

They danced and gyrated, stripping off costumes as Ana and I laughed and clapped. They were all great looking, and gave a really good performance despite the less-than-stellar venue and audience count. As each one got naked, we were treated to lap dances and huge penises bouncing in our faces. Out came the whipped cream, and we each licked white fluffy goo from long hard shafts. They must take Viagra or something, because all six of them stayed pretty hard all night. They encouraged Ana to take off her clothes, too, and she did a damned fine job of emulating a stripper, gradually teasing and exposing every inch of her smooth mocha skin. The guys danced backup as she slinked and swayed, and I was very wet by the time she finished. She came over and straddled me, but instead of a teasing lap dance, she kissed me hungrily and gyrated her hips over mine, all to the cheers and applause of the dancers.

We came up for a quick breath and I looked at Kurt. He had been silent the whole time, but his cock was showing some signs of life. I helped Ana off my lap and went over to him.

"Looks like you enjoy watching me with Ana, baby!" I mocked him. "Or is it the guys you like? I always wondered about you!" I hadn't really, but I figured what the hell. In for a penny, in for a pound.

I leaned down and stroked his penis. He tried to shy away, but he couldn't do a thing. Those internet knot tutorials were paying off. I jerked him for just a few minutes and he was fully erect, though I could tell he hated that his body was responding. I knew that feeling too well, and I was enjoying myself enormously.

I left him sitting there with his cock poking up ridiculously and went back to Ana.

"Want to torture him some?" I asked, but I already knew the answer. I told the dancers they were welcome to have a another drink and watch, or dance, or whatever. Then I pulled a plush rug over right in front of Kurt's chair. Ana and I sank to the floor, kissing and touching as we went. I noticed four of the strippers sat on the couch, but two sort of danced around us as they watched, staying close.

I shut all of that out for a while, and focused on Ana. I had been so tortured by Kurt that I had almost forgotten how much I loved being with her, how much I liked her smell, the round voluptuous curves of her body, and the soft velvety feel of her skin. I kissed her sweet mouth deeply and then kissed my way down her body. I tasted her neck, smelling ever so lightly of citrus, and kissed the smooth mounds of her breasts. Her perky, hard nipples perched atop dark brown, tiny areolas, and I tasted each in turn. I could scarcely control myself as I kissed down her belly and then tasted the delicious wetness of her petite little pussy. She was the first and only woman I've ever been with, but I could eat her all day if she'd let me.

I was lost to the world for a while as I dined on Ana's delicate juices, but soon she came in a gushing torrent of moans, squeals, and wetness.

I looked up to see that the strippers who had been dancing around us were now on either side of Kurt, teasing him by waving their ample meat in his face. Ana sat up and we laughed at his discomfort, making him turn red again. He seemed to be vibrating with anger, he was so upset. But I noticed his dick was still hard.

I went over and knelt beside the chair, taking his cock in my hand and tugging as I talked to him. I teased him more, asking whether it was the cock in his face or the lesbian show that turned him on more. He refused to answer, just glaring at me. But his cock throbbed in my hand, and I knew he was really turned on in spite of himself.

"Do you want me to suck you off, baby?" I taunted. "I know how you like to have your dick in my mouth when people are watching. Would you like that?"

As I spoke I put my face close to the head of his penis, my lips so close I know he could feel the warmth of my breath. As I stroked the full length of him I lowered my open mouth as if to take him in, extending my tongue to within millimeters of his head, but I never touched him with lips or tongue. I could feel his already hard cock straining to reach my mouth, pulsing and throbbing.

I looked at the two men standing by Kurt, and then, looking Kurt square in the face, I said "I think I like their dicks better." And I dropped his straining cock back in his lap.

Taking his cue, the guy to my right stepped up in front of me, and I began stroking his big member.

Speaking to Ana, I said "Care to join me?"

She really only likes women, and usually disdains swinging both ways, so I was gratified and a bit surprised when she knelt beside me and started tentatively licking his cock. Hell, I had been impressed that she licked the whipped cream off the guys, so I was touched by her willingness to do this for me. I joined her, and we doubled teamed that big dick like we were starving, once she got into it. Of course, we had to take breaks to kiss one another...

It seems we had gotten the attention of the other guys, because soon they were all circled around us. Someone had turned the music back up, and they were dancing and swaying to the beat, laughing and watching the show. Unlike Kurt's asshole jackal friends, these guys didn't feel threatening at all, and it was really kind of fun to have all that man-meat surrounding us.

One of the highlights of the night, for me, was when one of the dancers reached down and started jerking Kurt's dick. Kurt was so furious he actually bounced the chair off the floor, but to the stripper's credit, he never lost his grip and wasn't frightened off by the vile threats spat at him. I found out his name was Martin, and afterward I gave him a fat tip.

Kurt raged ineffectually for a while until I threatened to gag him again, and he quieted down. Martin continued to jerk his cock just enough to keep him hard and on edge for the rest of the show.

The rest of the show consisted of Ana and I sucking off each of the strippers, naturally. Well, actually Ana soon switched to going down on me and suckling my breasts while I sucked the strippers.

The part of my revenge plan I conceived of first was the part I liked best, though. You see, I wanted Kurt to have a taste of his own medicine. I wanted him to be covered in stranger's spunk, since he liked doing it to me. That was the idea that made me think to get in touch with the escort agency to begin with. The rest just kind of fell into place.