Again, Sir?

He was going to die. He knew it. He’d heard that if a man couldn’t ejaculate after a while, his pulse rate would pick up and he could have a heart attack. Chained here to this damned chair, cock hard and ringed, he watched the purple head pulsing.  Anything to look at but his wife, his Mistress. She was spread eagled on the bed, firmly tied to the four posts. Her new Sir was calmly walking around the bed and slapping at her with a short riding crop. Her crop. The one She used on him. Her husband. And slave.

He couldn’t look away. Each blow on his gorgeous Mistresses tits, each red and swollen welt caused a reaction in his own cock. Twitch, pulse, ache. The throbbing between his legs thrummed in pace with his wildly thrumming heartbeat. To see his strong Woman laid out like a banquet, hear the sounds of the crop against her flesh, the moans she let out, the pink flesh. She was being used as His toy, this new Sir taking full command of them both, and yet, it did not diminish Her power over him, not in the least. If anything, watching her submit to this new Sir added a dimension to his subservience to her. He thought She took her beating far better than he did when she cropped him!  She did not beg for release, or for Sir to stop. In fact, he saw the gleam of  wetness between her thighs as she arched up after a particularly hard blow. Her nipples were enormous, engorged and swollen, thrusting upwards towards Sir’s lashing blows.

Laying the crop aside, Sir began to rub her abused flesh. She was welted, sweating, and about as horny as she had ever been. The deep throbbing between her legs as she gave up control to this Sir was even more intense now that he’d beaten her. To see her slave watching, nearly drooling added even more to her feeling of subservience to this Sir.  As He grasped her swollen, aching nipples, and rolled them between His fingers, pinching hard, then even harder, she began to pant, and beg. She knew she would cum if He continued to manipulate her thus.

“Hot little slut,aren’t you?” He smiled down at her, continuing to torment her tits and their swollen tips. “Will you cum if I continue?” He asked.

She  nodded rapidly, panting. He began to pull her nipples as he twisted them, adding a deeper level of pain and excitement to her flesh.

“I’ll think about it.” He said.

He began twisting and pulling her nipples harder. The pain was terrible, but the answering throb between her legs was divine. She could feel it building, and building…and  then He stopped.  He released her nipples, and slapped each tit hard, once.

She opened her eyes, need shining brightly, and begged.

“please, Sir, oh please Sir….will You let me cum? Please, please Sir, i am so very close…”

He turned away. On the side table where He had laid out His toys, he selected a pair of clamps, attached to a very short chain. Her eyes widened. She had never worn clamps before and her nipples were already on fire…she screamed a short scream as he attached the first one. He stopped, looked down at her.

“The other will hurt much more, slut. The chain is short and will pull your delicious tits close together. This will be your challenge today. Let us see how long you can stand this. This will show me how willing you are to relinquish your role as Mistress when I am here to play with you.”

Her eyes were glazing over with the effort of controlling herself. And yet, she knew He was gaining much pleasure from her pain. He was, after all, a sadist. And she was testing her boundaries as a pain slut. Oh, was she ever being teste….”ooooohhhhh”. The deep, gutteral groan broke from her mouth unbidden, her back arched as she tried to take some pressure, somehow, from her tits. He had pushed them together, and fastened the second clamp tightly on her nipple. Now they were touching, the inner slopes of her breasts, held snug by the shortness of the chain between the clamps. The grip of the rubber on the clamps was hot fire. She could feel the pain burning through her tits, and down into her clit, accompanied by a gush of pussy juice. She felt Him probing her, assessing her.

She felt the brush of fabric against her face as He blindfolded her.

“The fear of the unknown is a basic, primal fear,” He began, “and harnessing it this way will intensify our experiences together.”  Picking up a flogger, he began lashing at her body with it. She jolted at the unexpected slaps of pain…her cunt, her tit, her belly, her thigh, there was no rhyme or rhythm to His pattern. She tried to brace for each blow, but never knew where it would fall next. As her body began to shake He increased His pace, and her first orgasm shattered through her as He laid a hard blow across her cunt once more. He dropped the flogger on the table, and inserted His fingers into her, quickly ramping her up again, as He quickly finger-fucked her to another aching orgasm. He didn’t stop thrusting, feeling her cunt clenching down on His invading fingers made His own cock rise and throb, and judging by the engorged head on the slaves cock, he was enjoying the show as well. He fucked his fingers in and out of this willing slut, bringing her to yet another orgasm. His fingers and fist were coated in her juices. Sir smiled. What a pair!

Rising from the bed, he strode over to the slave.

“Enjoying yourself, you bitch? Open  your fucking mouth!” As the helpless slave obeyed, Sir put his wet fingers into his mouth. Slave began licking them clean.  Sir pulled his fingers away, and unzipped his pants. He pulled His cock free. Grabbing the slave by his hair, He pulled him forward and down towards the rampant cock dancing in front of his face.

“Kiss it, then suck the head good. Like you did downstairs.” The order was curt, the pull on his hair, painful. He obeyed.  His humiliation was complete when the Sir began to pull on his cock.

“Horny slave, aren’t you?” A rapid, hard slap to his cock made him moan around Sir’s cock, lodged in his own cheek.  Another slap, another moan. Finally, Sir pulled His cock out of his mouth, and with a last hard pull on slaves cock, strode over to the bed.

Watching Sir fuck his Mistress was humbling. Humiliation was often a hard pill to swallow, despite the thrilling desire that ran through him. Watching Sir’s ass clench and buck over his wife’s moaning and writhing form, watching her beg for release, a release he provided Her whenever She ordered him….they were both slaves now. Slaves to a passion controlled by a Sir. The perfect Sir for them both.

he heard Her screaming orgasm, the ululations nearly deafening him. Her keening cry died off as she slid into unconsciousness. Sir rose from between her legs, cock gleaming with her juices, still hard. He had not cum yet. Walking over to the slave, He put the glistening cock into the slaves open and waiting mouth. Without a word being exchanged, the slave cleaned the cock carefully, loving the taste of his Mistress coating the hot pulsing rod in his mouth.

Sir released slave from the chair. Pulled him by the hair to the bed. Released the just-rousing woman and turned her to her side.

“Her ass is mine,” stated Sir, “but you need to clean that cunt up…she’s a mess.”

As he dove into his chore,  felt Sir begin to work his cock into Mistresses ass, accompanied by her moans, he reflected for just a moment on how their lives had taken a such a dramatic change….for the better. As his face became coated in her delicious juices, the balls of Sir banging into his chin  every so often he realized that he’d never been more satisfied.