I Had the Best Intentions

A plan started to percolate in my mind. "Would you be willing to dominate my wife with Mark? That way you could both be in control?"

Heather seemed intrigued by the offer. "She is beautiful. It had popped into my mind before, but we have never invited others into our marriage." She looked back into the bedroom, then corrected herself. "At least I haven't invited anyone. Besides, what if she doesn't go for it?"

"I say we don't give her the option," I said. "After they are done in there, I will go home to Nicole as if I know nothing. You tell Mark that you and I both witnessed it, but we are OK with it."

The look on her face implied that she was considering it.

"Tomorrow, I will make like I am going to work, but will drive around the block and wait for her to come back here. When she does, Mark will take her to the dungeon, at your encouragement, and somehow bind her down there. Blindfold her and allow me in. I will watch quietly as you and Mark dominate her together."

"Why are you so on board with this?" she asked.

"Because obviously Mark is doing something that I cannot to make her happy. Perhaps it is just the excitement. But if it gets her off, than I want it for her, and I want to witness her elation."

We watched as Mark pulled out of my wife's mouth and shot his load on her face, Nicole flinching as lace after lace decorated her visage. It was all Heather needed to see.

"OK," she said. "I'm in." We worked out the rest of our plan.

.....

The following day worked just as I had hoped. At the same time of day, Nicole pranced across the street and knocked on Mark' door. Five minutes after she went inside, I strode to the door and gently tapped three times.

Heather answered, and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. She was wearing a tight leather outfit, clearly establishing herself as a dominatrix. She pulled me inside, making sure not to be seen in the afternoon light.

"Your wife is downstairs, and has no idea that we are here. Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked.

"I am," I said, referencing my raging hard-on. She chuckled.

"OK, you sick Fuck. Let's do this."

We tiptoed down stairs, and as we approached the bottom, an audible slap echoed through the stone room. My heart started racing. I was excited, but nervous that I may have put Nicole in a horrible situation. But as I made my way to the door, I recalled her cumming as Mark ate her out, and it steeled my nerves. She deserved this.

I turned inside the room to see Mark, sitting on a chair, with Nicole lying over his lap. She was blindfolded, and her hands were cuffed together above her head. Mark was pulling her hair with his left hand as he smacked her firm ass with his right.

"What do you say, slut?" he commanded.

"Thank you, sir. Please, can I have another?"

SMACK. His hand collided with her pink bottom again, sending a rippling through her thighs and down to her calves.

"AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" she screamed, his spanking clearly causing an ample amount of pain.

As Nicole thanked him again, Heather quietly led me to one corner by the hand. As we approached the radiator, a pair of cuffs emerged from her hands and clasped around my right wrist. Before I could figure out what was going on, she had locked the other end to the radiator, holding me in place. She whispered to me:

"You will not interfere with our fun. You let Nicole know you are here, she will experience intense pain." She stuffed a ball gag in my mouth and secured it around the back of my head, muting me.

I was immensely uncomfortable with this, but I could do nothing about it now. Heather left me in the corner to join the party. Nicole correctly sensed her presence.

"Mark, is there someone else here?" her voice quivered.

"As a matter of fact, there is," he said calmly.

With that, he pulled her to her feet by her hair and pushed her against the wall furthest from me.

"Mark, stop! Who else is here?" she commanded, with little authority.

Mark forced her hands above her head and attached the chain between her cuffs to a sinister looking hook. It was at such a height that my wife needed to stand on her toes to maintain contact with the ground.

Heather approached her and placed a dog collar around her neck. It was attached to a chain leash, which she let fall to the floor.

"When Mark told me what was going on between you and him," Heather began, startling Nicole, "I was only upset that I hadn't been included. Apparently, we have some catching up to do."

"Heather!" Nicole startled. "Mark! This is not what I want. I'm not a lesbian!"

"Ha! I'm not a lesbian either. You understand that, you worthless cunt?" Heather squeezed Nicole's right nipple as she demeaned her. "I am just here to punish you for trying to work your tight little ass between me and my man!"

"Aaaaiiiieeeeee, Heather....please!" Nicole screeched. "I'm sorry, Heather. The whole thing was a big mistake!"

"You're damn right it was," said Heather. "And now it is time to pay." With that, she hefted up Nicole's right breast in her left hand and began wrapping the metal leash around the base of it. Nicole's breath quickened and she started to whimper, identifying a ferocity in Heather that she had never known. Her feet and knees squirmed with every tug on the leash.

Heather wound the leash tightly, propping up the massive tit so that it returned to height of her college years, and then some. She wrapped the leash around her breast twice, and then raised the handle to the hook holding her arms to the wall, lifting Nicole's right boob to just below her chin. Nicole hissed through her teeth as she struggled to accommodate the pain.

"Please, Heather! I'm sorry about what happened with Mark. It was a mistake," my wife pleaded. I could hear genuine remorse in her voice, and her use of the singular forms, "it was a mistake," confirmed what Heather had predicted yesterday: that this affair was a recent development.

Heather drifted to a cabinet full of equipment and returned with a mouth spreader. She moved in close to Nicole, her leather outfit brushing against Nicole's bare, hypersensitive skin. She grabbed Nicole's cheeks and pinched her mouth open, and started jamming the spreader into her mouth as she whispered into her ear.

"Listen to me, home wrecker. You think I give a shit if you are sorry? Do you know what is like get out of work early, think you are going to have a nice, relaxing afternoon with your husband, and then find him with his dick in your neighbor's mouth?"

"Uuuughh," my wife moaned as the spreader lodged behind her teeth.

"I picked the spreader instead of the gag because I want to hear you scream, bitch. Pleading will get you nowhere, but scream all you want." She locked the spreader in place once Nicole's mouth was gaped as much as it would go.

"Trust me," Heather continued, "Mark has put me through the ringer down here, and we have never had one complaint from any of our neighbors."

She grabbed the nipple on Nicole's engorged right tit and twisted it hard. Nicole let out a piercing scream that vibrated in my ears, and I could see the tears slowly streak down her reddening cheeks. When she ran out of breath, her scream ended, and she took in a big gasp of air. Heather let her nipple go.

"Music to my ears," she said. She returned to the cabinet for more toys, leaving Nicole a whimpering, blubbering mess pinned to the wall. As Heather shuffled through the drawers, Mark moved in on Nicole. His hand dipped between her legs and started stroking her pussy.

"Why are you wet, you little slut?" Nicole's whimpering was on the verge of hysteria. If what Mark had said was true, then even through the pain and submission, Nicole was becoming aroused.

"Let me make something clear, honey. I served my time last night. My debt has been paid. Today, you serve both of us." He slowly penetrated her with two fingers, allowing his other fingers and palm to slide up and down the folds of her pussy. To my great surprise, I saw Nicole's hips buck sensuously towards his fingers, as if even through the uncertainty of her immediate future, she could still derive pleasure from our male neighbor.

For the first time, my cock tinged in excitement. The rocking of her hips reminded me of how she would thrust up towards me during our sexual heyday. My concerns for her safety assuaged, I allowed myself to start to get into it.

Having found what she was looking for, Heather strutted back to her prone slave. She draped what seemed to be a string or fishing wire over her left shoulder. It crossed over her left breast and continued to her mid-thigh. Nicole was experiencing a steady swarm of conflicting emotions: fear and trepidation, for sure, but also shame and apparently arousal. Her hips rocked off the wall towards Mark' probing fingers as Heather brought the first of eight metal clips to her left tit.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh," she shrieked as Heather clamped the clip onto the top of her left breast. From my vantage point, I could see that the string was trapped between my wife's pure flesh and the vicious metal pincers. Vicious as they might be, though, it did appear that they were padded with rubber on the tips. Otherwise these clips might have drawn blood.

Nicole's breaths came in short, labored gasps as Heather pinched more flesh together just beneath the previous clip. She could sense the ensuing pain before it happened, but it did not help her cope any better. Heather again locked the one of the clips along the top of her breast, securing the string within it.

My wife pleaded for mercy, though it was indecipherable with her spreader in place. It just came out as a series of long vowels sounds. Heather and Mark shared a chuckle, mocking her pain.

"Don't worry, love," Mark said to his wife. "She is still wet. She must be enjoying it."

Though I could not specifically feel her wetness, the room was beginning to fill with that specific smell of sex, belying the fact that, even if she was not enjoying it, she was aroused. In shame at his comment, Nicole rocked her hips back against the wall and froze, refusing to thrust towards his fingers, as though her refusal demonstrated a lack of consent. Unfortunately for her, Heather did not care if she consented.

Her punishment would continue.

Nicole's whimpering continued as Heather applied five more clips in a vertical line down her left breast. Bringing forth the final clip, she flicked Nicole's throbbing nipple, and ensnared with the clip. Each of her breasts was now cruelly manipulated in different manners. Her right, ringed tightly at the base, bright red and bulbous, looked like it might rupture. The left, vertically bifurcated by the row of metal clips, still had the wire draped over it.

Heather now grabbed both ends of the wire and pulled them together in front of Nicole. I could see now the maniacal purpose of this wire. With every tiny tug, each of the clips pulled gently on Nicole's already straining breast flesh. After she tested the string for durability, Heather asked Mark to remove the spreader in Nicole's mouth.

"So, whore," Heather said. "Tell me how many times you have been with my husband." She held the wire taut in her hands, warning her that a sharp yank might follow a wrong answer.

"Just the once, Heather," Nicole said. Her answer was quickly followed by a sharp scream as Heather pulled on the wire.

"First of all, slut, don't you dare call me Heather today. Today, you call me 'mistress,' and nothing else. Second of all, that is your one and only chance to lie to me. Understand?"

"But Hea-...mistress. I'm not lying," my wife cried.

"Slut, you were with him yesterday, I witnessed that. And you were with him today when I walked in. That is twice right there. How many more times?"

"Please, be gentle, mistress!" Nicole whined as Heather tugged on the wire again. "I thought you meant before today. I swear yesterday was the first time."

I knew this was a lie, as I saw her yesterday, but caught her running out of his house the day before that. Unless that was just a manner of arranging what happened yesterday, though that was doubtful.

"OK, so just one time before today. What prompted it? Did you come on to him, or did he come on to you?"

"Mistress, it all began three nights ago, after dinner. John explained that he was trying to cheer me up by having you and Mark compliment me, but I wasn't buying it. We had a big fight; he slept on the couch, and was gone by the time I got downstairs."

Another light tug on the wire. "Get to the point, whore."

"Aiiieeee, fuck! OK!" Nicole screamed as her breast throbbed. "I called his office the morning after to apologize to him. I knew that he was trying to make me feel better about my looks, but I always let my poor self-image get in the way. But when I called, they said he had called out sick, and I began to get suspicious."

Heather turned her head towards me and raised an eyebrow. Was all of this a sick, Shakespearean plot that I set in motion by stalking my wife?

"So let me guess," Heather went on. "So you came over here, looking for me, and you found Mark, who gave you a shoulder to cry on. "

A tear streaked down Nicole's face. "Pretty much."

"And, was John having an affair?"

"I don't know, I never confronted him. But it does not seem like he was."

"So you are going to endure this punishment today because you did not trust your husband?"

"It was an honest mistake, Heather," Nicole tried to rationalize. Heather yanked the string harder. "God damn it! Mistress! I swear I never intended for this to happen. Please just let me go."

Heather balled all the slack in the wire up in her fist, leaned forward, and then pulled as hard as she could. The clips snapped off of my wife's left breast and flew all over the room.

"Aaaaahhhhhh!!!!!" Nicole screamed as her tit experienced first the pain of metal and rubber dragging against flesh, then the sting of their release. Now, as her scream diminished to short, quick gasps, the slow burn of blood rushing back to her pinched flesh drove her wild.

Heather unwrapped the chain around her right breast, and then Mark lifted her hands off the hook in the wall. Nicole collapsed to the ground, her back still pressed against the wall, and she cupped both of her breasts in her hand. I could see the searing pink flesh protrude from between her spread fingers as she massaged them gently.

The sound of her sobbing, full of fear, caused me to lose my erection. I had Heather's assurance that she or Mark would make my wife cum today, but I did not know if I could bear to watch the torture that would preclude it.

Heather quietly gestured towards Mark that she wanted Nicole in the middle of the floor, so he grabbed her left ankle and slid her along her back into the center of the room. Heather brought an ankle spreader out of the closet and handed one end to Mark.

"Please, Mark!" my wife cried. "Let me go. I won't say anything to John or anyone-". A sharp slap from Heather across her face shut her up.

"First of all, slave, I warned you not to use our names down here. In this room, we are master and mistress. Secondly, we are not worried about you telling anyone about this. What could you possibly say that wouldn't give your affair away?"

Nicole huffed, resigning herself to the situation as Heather and Mark pulled her legs apart and attached them to the spreader. She sat on the floor spread eagle, her hands flat on the floor behind her back, her heaving, glowing orbs hanging from her chest.

"Can I at least take off my blindfold, please?" she asked.

My heart started racing at the question, and for the first time my true vulnerability became clear. What would happen if Nicole took off her blindfold and found me, cuffed to the radiator, my erection trying to fight through my shorts?

"Sweetheart, I promise if you take that blindfold off your day will get exponentially worse." Heather eased my fears with this stern warning, at least for now.

Mark stepped out of his jeans and boxers, taking his raging erection in his fist and approaching my wife. He placed a foot on either side of her thighs, so his legs were flush against her still-stinging breasts. Only as the hair on his legs brushed against her nipples did she recognize his proximity.

"Open your mouth, slave," he commanded. Nicole obeyed. "Good, now stick that tongue out."

Again, my wife obliged his request, extending her tongue out of her mouth and down towards her chin. Mark pulled her head so that her back was perpendicular to the ground, and her hands came up to his thighs, grappling for stability.

Mark towered over her, and further imposed his reign over her by standing on his toes, so that his dick was more facing down at her mouth then approaching it from in front of her face. He pulled her hair down so that her face turned up to him, her mouth and tongue still in their commanded positions. With a sneer, Mark pushed his cock into her mouth and straight into her throat.

"Mmmmppphhhhh....cack, cack, cack," my wife gagged on his member. But Mark pushed forward, lodging himself inside her and sinking back down onto the heels of his feet. He grabbed the back of her head with both hands, holding her between his legs as her hands frantically grabbed at his thighs and ass, trying to move him back. But he was a tree trunk, immovable and stoic, owning her face. 
I could see that her neck was turning red as it strained around his cock. It appeared that the outline of his enormous cock head could actually be seen at the top of her throat.

Heather rejoined the action by plugging something into a nearby outlet and turning it on. I recognized it from some porn I had seen online, but was unsure if Nicole knew what it was.

"Are you familiar with the Hitachi Magic Wand, slave?"

Nicole could only grunt an indiscernible response.

"Well, just in case, this is the best vibrator I own. I promised Mark that I would make you cum at least once today, so that you get to enjoy this at least a little bit. But if you are going to cum, it is going to be on my terms, with your legs forced apart and my husband's dick stuck in your throat."

Heather, of course, had made that promise to me, not Mark. I was grateful that, at the minimum, I would be able to witness my wife orgasm.

She touched the vibrator to Nicole's spread and easily accessible pussy, sliding up and down between her clit and her gushing hole.

"MMMMMMMMM," Nicole groaned, half in pleasure and half in clear pain. She let go of Mark' legs and set her hands behind her back again. This enabled her to gently rock her hips off the ground and towards the invading vibrator.

"John must love having a whore like you in his bed every night," Heather mocked. "Look at how you lust for this plastic toy despite getting your throat reamed out by a superior man. What filthy things do you do for him?"

She teased Nicole by pulling the Magic Wand slightly out of range of her throbbing clit, and watched as Nicole attempted to nudge her hips forward in search of it. Mark pulled out of her throat with a pop.

"Answer her," he said.

Nicole's swollen red orbs heaved up and down as she tried to catch her breath. "What was the question?" she managed, already not remembering the seemingly rhetorical question Heather had posed.

Mark grabbed her right nipple and twisted it. "My wife would like to know what fucked up sexual acts you commit with your husband."

Nicole screamed and brought her right hand from behind her back to try to wrest her tit free. Her efforts were in vain. "Please!" she begged, "We do not do anything crazy. Just plain, vanilla, missionary."

"How often, slave?" Heather asked. I was embarrassed at the answer, even before Nicole offered it. The truth was, despite how cruel and debasing this sexual deviancy appeared to be, I was at least somewhat envious that they were trying new things, experimenting...trusting each other. For them to know that we only had boring missionary....