A Husband's Revenge

A husband’s revenge

She was bent over the sink — hands on each side — and she was looking back at him in the mirror.  Her pants and panties were down around her ankles, and her legs were open stretching those panties rather badly.  Her bare toes stuck out beyond the pants legs and the bright red polish on her toe nails gleamed.  She was wearing a pair of fancy sandals and the toe strap sparkled with fake jewels.  “This is so embarrassing,” she whispered, mouthing her words so that he could see what she was saying.

“That, my dear,” by contrast his voice was clear and normal, “is part of the whole package.” 

He was grinning from ear to ear, and she averted her eyes . . . and just about that point her body tightened as he pried open her butt cheeks with his fingers.  “Oh god,” she mumbled, and her head dropped letting her hair fall forward onto her face.  She felt totally open and totally vulnerable — now she felt his finger rub her opening softly, and she also felt a warm sensation which she knew was lubricant.  “Please,” she moaned, “this is not going to work.”

“Shush,” his voice was again normal volume and clear, “you lost the bet remember — this is going to happen — now relax your butt hole or it will hurt.”

“I can’t relax,” she snapped back — then caught her breath, “what if someone hears me?”  But that thought quickly gave way to the more pressing reality that his finger was now entering her — violating her . . . and he was putting it in deep too . . . then he started to pump it in and out . . . coming all the way out and rubbing the crack area, then plunging it back inside . . . deep inside.  He did this several times and she gasp each time, but slowly her reflex to tighten on his finger eased up and slowly she opened up back there.  Maybe the fact that his other hand was now rubbing her clit helped, but whatever it was the sensations were becoming blurred and confusing.  She was both horrified at what he was doing, and turned on by it.

“I could have made you get totally naked you know,” he talked softly now, his fingers doing their magic — one rubbing her clit in a gentle circular motion and the other fucking in and out of her butt hole.

“I know,” she breathed.

“Then you ought to be thankful . . . tell me that you are thankful,” the pace of his finger action increased, “Tell me bitch!”

“I am thankful,” her tone was one that said she was not at all thankful.

“No you’re not — tell me what you are thankful for . . . tell me!”

She hesitated, shaking her head back and forth slightly, “that you let me keep my cloths on”.  This time her tone was more gentle, more sincere.

“Look at me,” he commanded, “and tell me again.”

She lifted her head and looked at him in the mirror, her eyes were wide now, and her breathing was getting faster — his fingers were working their wizardly alchemic wonder on her and she was melting under their touch, “I thank you for letting me keep my cloths on.”  Her eyes met his, “and I thank you for using your bitch this way.”

“Good,” he replied, “now — cum for me bitch — cum right now — cum like the slut that you know you are . . . cum!”

“Oh . . .oh . . . yeeessss,” she breathed the words, which were not really words but just sounds, “Ohhhhh gooooood — I . . . uhhh,” her body began to shake, and her legs grew weak — she slumped down still uttering strange sounds, but his fingers kept up their work and she shuddered even harder.  But just as she was about to fall he stopped. He was holding her up now — one hand (with his finger inside her butt hole) grabbing hold from behind, and the other (with his finger in her cunt) grabbing her from the front.

“There now,” he said calmly, “don’t you feel better?”

“Huh?”  She looked back up at his reflection, “I . . . I  . . . yeah, I think so.”

“Good,” he withdrew his fingers and hands, “now we will finish up and get out of here.

* * *

“But what if it falls out?”  She whined.

“Then you will be really embarrassed,” he giggled, helping her pull up her panties . . . and then her pants.

“I can’t walk with that thing in there,” She was still whining, but she was fastening her pants shut at the same time.

“You will learn,” his smile was huge now as he turned to unlock the family restroom door.  Outside, in the main body of the store, Walmart customers were busy shopping for the holidays.  “Besides, that is part of the fun — public humiliation sweetie — that is part of the fun.”

* * *

How does it feel?”  His voice was soft, and he spoke out of the corner of his mouth.

“Weird,” she snapped, her eyes darting from right to left as the automatic doors closed behind her and the parking lot came into full view.  Then glancing at him, “how do you think if feels?”

He chuckled quietly as they began to walk toward their van, which was parked several spots up directly in front of them.  Then he asked, his tone sounding serious, “Does it hurt?”

She glanced back at him, a huge frown on her face, “Would you care?”

“Well,” he hesitated, and then added, “I don’t want it to hurt exactly, just a slight bit of humiliating irritation is all.”

“Well you can be satisfied of that,” she snapped, “I think everyone is watching me.”

“Well, my dear, that is because you are walking funny.”  He reached out and took her hand, smiling broadly.

“Of course I am walking funny,” she growled, “what do you expect . . . with that thing inside of me . . . back there.”

Now he laughed — not just a chuckle but a full blown laugh.

“It isn’t funny,” she yanked her hand away from his just as they reached the van.

“I bet your panties are soaked.”  He was still giggling as he opened her passenger side door.

“Well — you aren’t going to find out,” she began to climb into the seat just as his hand dropped down and patted her bottom, “Stop it!”

“You love it,” his hand moved with more purpose now, finding the bulb end of the thing and giving it a gentle shove just as she turned to settle into the seat.

“You are so bad!” She put her hand on the door handle and began to pull it shut, but her face betrayed her.  Her eyes were sparkling, and there was just a hint of a smile tugging at the edges of her mouth.  She turned to him and mumbled softly, “You just wait – Una is going to visit again soon.”

* * *

He moved with deliberate methodical intent as he checked each of her restraints.  First the left wrist, then the left ankle, then the right, then up to the right wrist where, after testing the tie down strap, and cuff, his fingers moved slowly along her inner arm — down to the arm pit where they stroked her gently . . . tickling that tender area for a few moments — then up to the shoulder . . . along it, dropping for a brief fondle of the naked right breast . . . just brushing over the nipple — then back to the shoulder and on to her face . . . touching her cheek, her chin — his finger trickling across her lips, “Today, my love . . . today you are mine, just like I belonged to Una a couple of weeks ago,” he touched her nose, ran his finger up the bridge of it, across her forehead, back down to her lips, “And today you learn the meaning of that.”  He paused, his hand now moving to her left breast and cupping it tightly as he leaned over and kissed her softly — first on the lips, then her nose, then her forehead.  “You know about my clit fetish,” his hand letting go of her breast and his fingers gently pinching the nipple, “and how much I love the female clit . . . and how badly I want to torment that lovely little jewel down there.”  Now he smiled — leaned down and kissed her lips again.  The look in her eyes told him all he needed to know — she was scared, but it was a kind of thrill type of fright, anticipating, and wanting . . . this was confirmed to him by the nipple which was now hard and erect . . . they both were, and he knew she would be soaking wet too.  “If I check you down there will I find it lubricated?”  His tone was jovial, “you little slut . . . you love this, don’t you?”  It was a rhetorical question, and he did not expect an answer, but she nodded her head anyway.  Noticing this he asked, “what was that — tell me my sweet lovely bitch — do you love this?”

“Yes,” it was barely audible.

“What?”  His tone now more firm, “What did you say — bitch?”

“Yes, I love it,” her voice now louder, “but you scare me too.  What are you going to do to me?”

“Hurt you of course,” he giggled. “I might even pinch it off today,” his giggle turned into a quick full out chuckle.

Her eyes were wide, she knew that he would never actually harm her, but she also knew that he could be rough, and she knew that he did like to pinch her clit — hard sometimes.  He seemed to have this amazing intuitive sense of when to do that — when it wasn’t really pain but was rather a stimulation to the inevitable orgasm that came soon after . . . or sometimes during that event.  It was a mystery — it hurt bad . . . but then something in the pain and humiliation also intensified the power of the orgasm making it amazing.  

“Today I have new plans for that little knob of yours,” his fingers began to stroke her cheek while his thumb rubbed across her lips, “fun things — things that will drive you crazy with twisted tormented pleasure.”  He sat down on the bed next to her, his left leg still touching the floor and his right tucked up under him.  His left hand began to rub up and down along her tightly drawn arm while his right kept stroking her cheek. “But first we need to build the moment don’t you think?”  He smiled again.  

She trembled — her whole body quivered . . . it was involuntary and only a short moment in time, but it was noticeable.  “Wow!”  He stopped stroking her, “what was that?”  His left hand moved to rearrange his now stiffing manhood.  Up to now he had been only marginally aroused, but her shiver of fright had changed that.  His right hand now moved down from her cheek to her crotch — it wasn’t a gentle move either, it was quick and forceful — his finger began to probe into her lips, to seek that magic button of hers. Suddenly his need to do this was strong.  Leaning down now, he kissed her again — a hard probing kiss this time — his tongue lusty in its quest to press into her mouth.

* * *

Her first orgasm had been swift — sharp — coming on fast but not lasting long.  He had found her clit with his finger, and he had used that finger with expert skill — as he always did — and the mixture of fear and anticipation along with the physical sensations moved her to that explosive moment quickly.  Now she was elevated to that place where her desire overpowered all else — he could use her as he pleased and she would respond without resistance because she was helpless in her need to feel another release, to keep going down that path to the oblivion of pleasure — that place where all she could think off was how good it felt . . . even when it hurt.  And she was now beginning to see how much it was going to hurt . . ..

“See these,” he held up a cloths pin with his left hand — opening it and closing it as he did so, “guess where they are going to go?”

“Ohhhhhh,” she sighed.  It wasn’t a word really, just a sound — a gushing of air mixed with a tone.

“Not to worry my love,” he purred, “I will be gentle . . . and only on the lips at first . . . the clit later maybe, but not right away I don’t think.”  He paused, watching her eyes.  They were wide with fear, and glossy with desire, “Eventually that is where they will go — but we need to take it slow — let you adjust to your status as my cunt,” he giggled.  He liked calling her a cunt.  He didn’t really know why, he loved her with all of his heart and he would never tolerate anyone else talking to her in any way except with pure respect, but now — in this situation — he liked calling her his cunt, and his bitch, and his nasty fuck toy . . . it made him feel strangely excited, like she was his personal whore, and it gave him the freedom to abuse her . . . and he loved to abuse her clit.  ‘I wonder,’ he thought, ‘why I have this fascination with the female clit?  Probably because it is so unique and so sensitive.’

“Those are going to hurt,” she blurted it out.

“Yes — probably, but I will be gentle with them.”

She felt his fingers pull her open down there — felt them pull her right pussy lip up and then felt the sharp sting as the first clip closed on it . . . and a few moments later another sting as the next, and the next were applied.  First to the right lip, then to the left — three on each side.  Then that feeling mixed with one of sheer desire as he began to massage her opening — not her clit this time, but her opening — that special area down there where weird and wonderful sensations originated — then inside — the G spot — now the clit — back to the G spot, then the special area in-between — the lips stretched out — the feelings of pain and pleasure mixing . . . mixing into the mind blowing moment of her next — and more intense — orgasm.

* * *

“What are you doing?!”  She cried out, “Oh my god — that feels so weird!”  Her toes were pointed like arrows, and she was quivering — was she still cumming?  Was she still even able to cum?  The feeling in her clit was intense beyond belief.  “Oh my god — oh that is soooooo intense . . . what are you doing?!”

* * *

He had been relentless . . . ‘how many times’ she wondered, ‘have I cum?’. Could it even be counted — sometimes one quivering inner burst simply subsided briefly before flowing into the next one in a longish blur of mind numbing bliss.  Intense, and strange . . . and now she could not even tell what he was doing down there — her clit could feel him, but she could not tell what he was doing.  Was he rubbing it?  Squeezing it? Pinching it?  She could not tell any longer — it was just an ongoing intense sensation of . . . of . . . of pleasure?  Pain? She knew she would be sore — real, real sore — but at the moment she didn’t even care.  He had used her — used her hard —called her nasty names — degraded her womanhood — violated her most privet places . . . and she had loved it, and had cum, and cum, and cum. 

‘What is he doing now?!’  Something different — his finger was rubbing on her butt hole — rubbing it softly.  There were still the intense feelings coming from the clit too – she was sure that the clothespin was still attached -- and the area just below it, and both mixed together were so erotic, so . . . so . . .”Ohoooo,” she gasp as his finger entered her back there - probed into her rectum.  She was being violated anally . . . and she felt another quivering inside as another orgasmic spasm took hold . . . “Oh my god,” she breathed.

“Now that you are properly lubricated,” his voice was soft and seemed to come from far away, “we will plug you . . . the middle sized plug this time I think.”  

She felt herself being pried open back there, and then there was an intense sensation of pain, followed by the most strange feeling of violation and stimulation she had ever felt . . . and all the while the sensation in her clit continued — he was her only reality now — she belonged to him totally.

“Now my dear,” his voice was louder — husky, and filled with lust, “it is my turn.”  

She opened her eyes and saw him raised above her, his cock was huge — it was sticking out in front of his stomach and it was throbbing.  She could see the tip glistening with drops of pre-cum . . . one of them dripping onto her out-stretched leg just below where the cloths pins held open her lips. He was stroking himself with his left hand as he reached down and spread her with his right.  Then in a quick smooth motion he descended upon her and she felt him enter her now open and very hungry cunt-hole.  It felt fantastic.  The weird feelings of being plugged in her butt, and the painful sensitivity of her clit gave way to a near unconscious wave of orgasmic pleasure — and she felt loved!  She felt fulfilled!  She felt completed!  She had been used, tormented, humiliated, called a cunt and a bitch — and other things she could not even remember . . . and it was wonderful, it was as it should be — she was his, and she was happy.