I Had the Best Intentions Ch. 02

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The road to hell is thus paved - Sequel to ABob1 story
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The Road back from hell - my ending to abob1's series I Had the Best Intentions. He has generously invited me to see what I could do for an ending. I'm certain it will be different from his.

http://www.literotica.com/s/i-had-the-best-intentions

abob1's story is about a wife with self-esteem issues. She turns to the neighbor for support, only to find out he and his wife are into BDSM, and she is abused in their basement, with the husband willingly watching. She's not aware of his presence, and the situation is not what he had intended. She has the most extreme sexual response of her life, and the husband is left wondering where things will go next. At the end of the story, he's discussing the future, after getting a blowjob, then being released from his own restraints, which he wanted no part of. The wife has been instructed to either get dressed and leave, or go upstairs and like naked on the bed for more punishment.

In my version John, the aggrieved hubby wants to take back control of his life. He does so, very aggressively. Very. This is not a nice story, but as with most of mine, I try to make the punishment fit the crime.

Thanks to abob1, for generously providing permission to work with I Had the Best Intentions.

I like finishing stories. I guess I'm a little weird. Sometimes they are stories that have been abandoned. Others are open invitations. In a case like this, the author is still active, but he has invited me to offer up my own ending to his story.

When offered the opportunity, I'll give you my idea of an ending. Fair warning though, I don't write about total wimps. May not be BTB, all nuclear and shit, but no voluntary cucks, or whiny simpering wimps.

Some of you won't like my endings. That's fair enough. I'm happy to hear your reasons. This is only one author's idea of a fitting resolution. You're welcome to try your hand at writing your own. I hope you enjoy this one.

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"Well," he said, "I left her upstairs and gave her two options. I told her she could either get dressed and go home, or she could go up to our bedroom and lie naked on the bed and wait for us."

"What did she do?" I asked.

"We will find out. I gave her five minutes to make up her mind. Until then...we wait."

The five minutes were the longest of my life. I stood quietly, trying to decide what I wanted to do. I was torn. I had seen a new side of my wife that I had never expected. I watched her experience the pleasure I desired for her, at the hands of another.

I had been excited to see her orgasms torn from her, but in the afterglow of the incredible blowjob I'd recieved, all I could think about were her screams, her begging to be released, and her shame afterward. It hurt.

At the same time, I was furious. That Mark had come on to my wife, used her without my knowledge, and then abused her sexually the way he had made my blood boil. I had agreed to let them dominate her, but I had never expected the torture she'd been put through. Raping her virgin ass was beyond the pale.

Heather was supposed to be on my side. She'd been enraged when it all started, but once she had me handcuffed and gagged, she was the more vicious one. I started to suspect I was setup. She had gone along so easily, acting furious at my wife, with no repercussions for her cheating husband. Instead, it seemed like he'd been rewarded, with complete access to my wife's mouth and ass. I recalled her first words to my wife, that she'd only been upset that she wasn't invited.

I feared where this would lead, if I didn't take over control of my wife and my life. I wanted to know how to pleasure her, to give her what she needed, but at this rate, she'd soon be someone else's woman not mine. I couldn't allow that to happen. Certainly not to that backstabbing asshole.

While I stood there pondering my potential actions, Heather looked up at the clock. "It's been seven minutes. I think I should see where the night will lead us." She smirked as she said it, and sauntered up the stairs. My heart leapt into my throat, at the idea of the two of them continuing to use and abuse her, torturing her, slowly stealing her from me.

Mark was avoiding looking at me, putting away their toys. His nakedness was a constant reminder of what he'd done. I don't know what came over me, it was unplanned, but I saw the steel leg spreader he'd used on my wife laying on the table. I picked it up, and when he leaned over the cabinet to put something on the bottom, I hit him across the back of the head with all my might, the impact making a loud crack. He dropped like a rock.

In moments I had him handcuffed, and gagged with the same ball-gag used on me. The gag made him inhale through his nose, but at least he was still breathing. I scanned the cabinet, and came up with a long whip, like a bullwhip, but only six feet or so long, and a second pair of handcuffs. I pulled Mark out of view, and waited for the return of Heather.

It was only a few moments later she came down the stairs. I heard her long before I saw her. "She's not in the bedroom. I have to admit I'm surprised . . . AHHH!"

She screamed out as I whipped her the moment she appeared in the room. I wrapped the whip around her neck, and pulled her to the ground. Putting her on her belly, she was screaming as I pulled her arms behind her and handcuffed her.

"John!" she screamed. "What the hell?"

I lifted the whip and made her shriek as it came down across her back. Even through the black leather, it seemed to cause her significant pain. "I'm not John down here. You will call me Master, you conniving cunt, or you will suffer."

She shook her head. "No! This isn't what... AAAAAH!" she cried as I whipped her again.

"Shut up, or I will flay the skin off your body, slut. This is not a game."

She was shaking. "Please, John. This...AAARGH!" I struck her three times in a row, on her legs, her ass, her back. She finally shut up, shaking, crying. I figure an experienced woman like her should be able to handle a little pain. The tears were as likely from fear as from the actual whipping. Good, she should be afraid.

I returned to the cabinet, looking at my options. First, I needed to make sure I had absolute control over both of them. They had plenty of ropes, in different colors and thicknesses. I found a gag for Heather, and forced it in her mouth. I tied her feet together, and added some rope around her hands, doubling up with the handcuffs. I dragged her to the corner by her hair, and dumped her there.

Mark was still unconscious. I was a bit concerned I'd overdone it, hitting him as I had. I checked and he was breathing. I had some ideas for how to wake him. I tied his feet together, and wrapped his hands in rope. It was sloppy, but I didn't do this for a hobby. My only purpose was to immobilize him. When I was happy, I found what I was looking for, near the center of the room. A metal hook hung from the ceiling. I threw the rope up through it, attached one end to the handcuffs around Mark's wrists, and started pulling. It took a good bit of effort and I was sweating heavily by the time I had him standing, his hands stretched out above him, dangling from the hook. I tied off the rope to the hook where my wife had previously been hung. It seemed fitting.

With the instigator taken care of, I returned to Heather. She shrunk away from me, and squirmed while I dragged her to the table where they'd punished my wife. I bent her over the padded table, and it didn't take me long to have her legs positioned exactly as Nicole's had been. I returned to the cabinet, where I'd seen Mark hang the keys to the handcuffs, and retrieved them. I climbed on top of the table, sitting on her back, to avoid too much fighting. Once I unlocked the handcuffs, she tried to wriggle free, but was helpless against my full weight pinning her down. A couple of minutes later, her hands were cuffed, a perfect copy of my wife's predicament less than an hour earlier.

I had been acting solely on instinct, but I finally felt fully in control. They weren't going anywhere. I spent a few minutes familiarizing myself with the cabinets contents. In a drawer I found a pair of surgical scissors. They were inspiring, and for the next few minutes, I cut the dominatrix clothing off of Heather, until she was lying naked, her outfit in shreds. She struggled, screaming against her gag. I laughed at her helplessness.

"I think we're almost ready to have a long needed talk, slut," I told her, once I had her fully naked.

I reached around and pulled the gag from her mouth. She immediately started cursing me. "You bastard! That was a custom made outfit! It cost me over six hundred dollars."

"Consider it the price of adultery, lying, cheating, and forcing your way on another." I hefted the whip she'd used on my wife. "What was the number? Twenty?" I whipped her across her back, very hard.

Her scream was delicious. "I thought you'd be tougher than that, Heather." Another stroke of the whip had her gasping. I liked the feel of the leather in my hand, the weight of the strands, the bright red welts that raised almost immediately.

"Too hard," she whined.

"Too hard, Master," I reminded her, with another hard blow. "I don't recall you asking my wife if you were hitting her too hard," I said, then whipped the back of her thighs with nearly my full strength. She shrieked, and I laughed.

"Let's see. You gave Nicole, a complete novice, twenty with the whip and twenty more with the paddle. I figure you should be able to take at least twice that."

The whip came down across her back, as hard as I could swing it, diagonally from her shoulder to her lower back. "RED," she screamed.

"Yes, you conniving bitch. You're turning quite red," I said, hitting her again.

"Her . . . safe . . . word," I heard from behind me.

Mark was hanging from the rope, watching us, his face in anguish. "Did you say something to me, asswipe?" I swung the whip across his chest, enjoying the swish as it cut through the air.

He groaned. "Red. It's her safe word. She can't take anymore."

I laughed. "Safe word? [CRACK] What was my safe word, [CRACK] when I was gagged and handcuffed in the corner, [CRACK] against my wishes? [CRACK] What was Nicole's safeword? [CRACK]" I accentuated each statement with a stroke of the whip.

I'll give him this much. He was tough. He squirmed and twisted, grunting a few times, but he didn't scream. I was determined to change that.

"We were careful," Heather said. "We took it easy on her. No more than she could handle."

I whipped her husband across the crotch, using my full strength. He didn't like that one, crying out, lifting his knees in an attempt to cover himself.

I returned to Heather, and started beating her methodically, back, ass, legs. I'd given her at least a dozen lashes, listening to her cries and moans.

"Stop it!" Mark cried out. "You're going to hurt her!"

I turned and whipped Mark across the face. He screamed.

"First, you will speak only when spoken to, you filthy cheating rapist. Second, you will call me Master. Third, I fully intend to hurt her. You two conspired against me and my marriage, and you'll pay for that. Trust me, you asshole, you will pay dearly. Far more than she will."

My backhand whipped across his face, leaving delightful red welts on his cheeks and nose.

"P . . . Please, Master. Not the face. You will injure him," Heather begged. "You could blind him."

I walked around him, beating him continuously, chest, back, legs, ass, crotch, arms, anywhere I wanted to. I was sweating and my arm was aching. I switched hands, and kept going. "How many?" Heather whined.

I laughed. "How would I know? You haven't even started counting yet. You made Nicole count, right?" I was standing behind her husband, and whipped him on the hip, the strands of the whip wrapping around him, the tips snapping down across his manhood, making him scream.

"One," he whimpered, hanging loosely from his arms.

"Perfect. Only ninety-nine to go. Then we'll start with the paddle, and anything else I can find."

I returned to Heather, examining the red marks all over her body. I liked the whip I was using but it was heavy, and tiring me. I returned to the cabinet finding something else I could use. I had the option of trying the single strand whip I'd used to subdue Heather. Truth is, I had a lot of options.

I pulled out a few different choices, a large leather paddle, another whip with what appeared to be dozens of strands, instead of only 10 to 12. There was a thin wooden cane, that looked like something an old time school teacher would use; it wasn't sturdy enough to be a real cane.

Heather was breathing hard, watching me. "What do you call this?" I asked, holding up the first whip I'd used. If this kind of stuff is what my wife needed, I was going to need some education.

"L-Leather Cat. Cat o' nine tails. Bullhide tresses, Master," she said.

I walked past her naked body, and rubbed my hand down between her legs. Damn, the girl was soaking wet. She couldn't possible enjoy what I was doing to her, could she? She trembled, when I forced a couple of fingers up inside her. I wiped my hand on her reddened ass.

"See?" I commented. "It's just like you told my wife. I must not be treating you too roughly. You're soaking wet and enjoying it, right?"

I waved the one with lots of strands in front of her face, when she didn't reply. "What's this thing?"

"Flogger. Deerhide, Master. Not as severe."

It was heavy, harder to wield. I brought it down on her back, and she jerked a little, but didn't squeal or squirm. I swung it harder, and other than a brief pinking, you could hardly tell where I'd hit her. She grunted when it hit.

"It's m-m-more sensual, Master. Not for punishing."

I walked over to her husband, where I could get a nice windup. I beat him with it a few times, and he took it easily. I tossed it to the side. "Alright, I get it."

I hefted the whip I'd first captured her with. I saw her shudder. "That's a whip. A six foot bullwhip, Master. It's more for show." I turned toward her husband and she cried out. "No, please!"

That thing was a beauty. Everywhere it landed, large red welts appeared. He screamed on the second one. That was a keeper. Heather was shouting at me to stop, as I experimented, learning how to make it work best.

When I finished, I saw he was bleeding from a couple of places. It was mostly just seeping out, not pouring. I walked over and used it on Heather a couple of times. Even swinging easily she shrieked and cried. "That's for talking out of turn, you stupid slut. You plead for him, and it's only going to get worse. You need to learn that."

She was crying pretty hard. "Yes, Master."

I walked over and rubbed my hands over her body. She was a sexy thing. Not as hot as my wife, but not bad, not bad at all. I stood in front of her face, and held my dick out to her. "Suck, you slut."

Her answer was to open her mouth. I stuck my cock in it, pushing forward until her nose was pressed against my belly. She sucked my soft cock, and I rocked my hips, while she kept it in her mouth. "That's right, you conniving slut bitch. Suck me in front of your asshole husband."

She whimpered, sucking me hard. As I stiffened, I got more out of it. I figured tit for tat, so I held her hair, and fucked her face hard, thrusting into her throat, holding her head with both hands, keeping her there. I held her while she struggled, gagging, unable to breath.

"How's it feel, you fucking whore?" I growled.

I refused to let up. She was shaking, and when she finally stopped struggling, I pulled out. She lay their limply. That was fine by me. I was hard enough for what I wanted.

I moved behind her limp body, and slammed my cock into her wet pussy. I got no response on the first several strokes. I moved up to her puckered asshole, gripping my cock tightly, and forced my cock inside her. On the third stroke I hammered it home, and she gasped, sobbing.

"Pretty tight back here, slut? You don't let your husband use it much do you?"

"He's too big," she moaned.

"Really? Too big for you, but you'll let my wife lose her anal virginity that way?"

"S-s-sorry, Master. I was angry," she whimpered.

"Bullshit. You weren't angry. You had all this planned, you sneaky whore!" I hammered her ass, watching her body shake.

"She didn't know," Mark said.

I pulled out of her ass, took three steps and backhanded his face with all my might, making his head fly backward. "Master!" I snapped. "She didn't know, MASTER!"

"She didn't know, Master," he repeated, blood dripping from his split lip.

"You're a goddamn liar, on top of being a lousy friend, and a cheating asshole." I released a little of my anger by punching him in the stomach as hard as I could.

"You asked us to Dom her, Master," he groaned, once he'd caught his breath.

"Dom, not torture and anally rape. And only after you'd used her twice, behind my back, you fucking traitor." I picked up the bullwhip and gave him a half dozen to the back of his legs. I could tell from his reaction he really didn't like those. When I finished, he was bleeding from several new places.

It wasn't like he didn't deserve it. Chasing after my wife. He was supposed to be a friend. Trustworthy. Fucking scumbag.

I was still hard, and stroked my cock before shoving it back up Heather's ass. "You knew, you bitch," I said, digging my hands into her ass cheeks. "Admit it, you knew."

She moaned, shaking her head. "No John, I swear. I had no idea he was trying to seduce her."

I pulled out of her ass, and grabbed the nearest instrument. That stupid little cane. I smacked her ass hard with it. Hard enough for it to crack on the third blow. She screamed, louder than anything I'd heard so far. I guess that one hurt.

"Lie to me again, and I'll break a 2x4 over your slut ass, bitch!" My cock felt at home back inside her quivering ass. I saw the damage the cane had caused. It left a distinct white line, with parallel red lines, about 6 inches long on each cheek.

"Didn't . . . know, M-m-master," she whimpered.

"You're telling me it was a coincidence, you walking up on me, watching your fucking husband mouth rape my wife?"

"I called her, Master," Mark said loudly, before I could retaliate against his wife.

I slammed my cock home, forcing it deep in her ass, and holding it there. "You fucking called her?"

"When Nicole showed up, and I knew I had her, I called Heather. Told her to hurry home. I had a surprise for her. She didn't know until then."

I grabbed the flogger that was lying on the table next to us. The braided leather handle looked perfect. I pushed it into Heather's ass, making her cry out. "Place holder, Slut," I told her, laughing, forcing it deeper.

I returned to the cabinet. I liked the way that cane worked, but I'd ruined the first one. I found something similar, no curve on the end. I lifted Heather's head by her hair, holding the stick in front of her. "What is this?"

She blinked the tears away. "Rattan cane, Master. Very painful."

I liked the swish of the cane, and Mark gasped as it left its welt across his belly. "Lie to me again, you fuckwad." Another 'swish', and the line showed up on his lower belly, half of it hidden in his pubic hairs. "I watched you, in the hall, and in your bedroom. You never called. Lie to me again. You know where I'm hitting you next."

He was sweating heavily. He stunk. "I swear. I texted her on the way to the bedroom. You can check my phone, or her phone. I swear it's true."

Mark screamed like a little girl, when the cane struck his crotch. I believed him. It all seemed to fit. Didn't mean I didn't want to make him pay.