The Surprise

My plan had worked beyond my wildest dreams. As I headed to the bathroom, the air still thick with the musky scent of sex and sweat, I replayed the morning's events. Putting my ex-wife through her paces with the help of my Domme Wendy had been a masterpiece of erotic execution. After cleaning up, I expected to return to the bedroom and find two satiated, sleeping beauties. I was wrong.

The sight that greeted me in the doorway made my cock, which I thought was spent, begin to stir all over again. Wendy had Christie face down on the mattress, her arms wrenched behind her back. She was in the process of using the discarded straps to bind Christie's wrists together, a stark contrast to the gentle way I had tied her just an hour before. I leaned against the doorframe, a slow grin spreading across my face. "Well now," I murmured, my voice a low rumble. "What have we here?"

"Oh, hi, Jeremy," Wendy said, not missing a beat. She cinched the strap tight, pulling a soft gasp from Christie. "I asked your lovely wife if she wanted me to leave, or if she wanted to continue our little game. She chose to continue. Seems she has a taste for being controlled. Funny, huh? I guess she's a little submissive after all. Isn't that right, you little whore? Tell your wonderful husband what you want. Tell him how you want us to use you."

 My normally reserved ex-wife looked up, her eyes sparkling with a newfound, dangerous light. She bit her lip and whispered something too soft to hear.

 >>Smack!<<

  Wendy's hand came down hard on Christie's ass, leaving a perfect red handprint. "Louder, slut. I want your husband to hear you."

 I'd seen this dominant, cruel side of Wendy emerge before, but watching her naked, her body taut with power as she held my wife down, was a breathtaking spectacle.

 "Yes!" Christie cried out, her voice cracking with desperation. "Treat me like a slut. Use me any way you want. I'm so fucking horny... I need to be fucked hard."

 Wendy’s smile was pure, unadulterated sin. "Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head. You're ours now. To do with whatever we want." She finished tying off Christie's wrists and yanked her off the bed with rough, unceremonious force. Wendy then proceeded to bind Christie's elbows together, pulling them tight until her shoulder blades nearly touched. The position forced her chest out, making her beautiful tits stand up like ripe offerings. While she pawed at Christie's now-thrust nipples, Wendy looked at me. "Belt. Get me a belt."

 I went to the closet, my heart pounding with anticipation. When I returned, the scene had escalated. Wendy had three fingers pumping relentlessly in and out of Christie's dripping pussy, her right hand a blur of motion while her left hand was wrapped around Christie's throat, holding her upright. Christie was moaning, a guttural, animalistic sound, her hips bucking wildly against Wendy's hand.

Wendy saw me and abruptly stopped, pulling her soaked fingers from Christie's body with an audible wet sound. "Enough of that, my little play-toy," she purred, wiping the slick juices across Christie's pouting lips. "It's time to put you to work." She snatched the belt from my hand and wrapped it around Christie's slender neck. I watched, mesmerized, as she pulled it just tight enough to see Christie's eyes bulge slightly, to restrict her airflow and make her pulse flutter wildly at her throat. Giving the belt a sharp tug, Wendy led her from the room. I followed, treated to the hypnotic sight of two perfect, swaying asses disappearing down the hall.

 In the living room, Wendy commanded, "Stay," and Christie froze, a beautiful, obedient pet. Wendy walked over to me, gave my cheek a quick, almost chaste peck, and took my hand. "Why don't you have a seat on the couch?" she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I have an idea."

 Not wanting to break the spell Wendy was weaving, I did as she asked. I sank into the couch, my eyes fixed on her as she returned to Christie. "You know," Wendy began, her voice a seductive purr, "I think your wonderful husband has put up with quite a lot from you. Let's go show him some appreciation for all his hard work." She gave the makeshift leash a sharp tug, leading my bound ex-wife back to me on her knees.

 Wendy's intention became gloriously clear as she forced Christie's head down into my lap. My ex-wife opened her mouth and began to tongue my cock, which was still limp and sensitive from my earlier orgasm. "I'll be right back," Wendy said, straightening up. "Mind if I borrow your phone?"

 "No, go right ahead," I managed, my voice thick.

 As she walked away, I found myself admiring her all over again—the way her taut body moved, the subtle ripples of muscle beneath her firm flesh, the predatory sway of her hips. Damn, it's a shame she can't be here all the time, I thought, a familiar pang of longing hitting me.

 Meanwhile, Christie was struggling, her soft mouth and eager tongue unable to coax my soft penis to full attention. I took her face in my hands, guiding her, showing her the rhythm I wanted. I guess I wasn't that old after all, because I felt that familiar tightness begin to grow in my groin as I started to get hard again. I leaned back, losing myself in the sensation as she finally took the tip of my hardening cock between her lips, her tongue swirling along the shaft.

 Several minutes passed in a haze of building pleasure.

 "Hell, girl, is that the best you can do?" Wendy's sharp voice cut through the fog from the doorway. I hadn't even heard her on the phone; the conversation, if there was one, must have been brief. I wondered who she'd called.

 Christie flinched and looked up. Wendy was on her in an instant, grabbing the belt around Christie's neck and using it to yank her head back. "No wonder Jeremy isn't happy with your sexual performance," she hissed, her face inches from Christie's. "You have to put some effort into your cocksucking. This dick isn't going to suck itself. Now, get to work!"

 With that, she planted both hands on the back of Christie's head and shoved it down, hard. My cock, now fully erect and pointing at the ceiling, slid deep into Christie's mouth. I gasped as I felt it hit the back of her throat, a barrier she had never before been able to breach. Christie's eyes bulged in shock, and she gagged violently as Wendy forced my cock deeper than it had ever gone.

 Wendy pulled her up just enough to let her gasp for a single breath, then shoved her down again, and again. Christie's head became a piston, her movements no longer her own but completely controlled by Wendy's powerful arms. The sensations were incredible—wet, tight, and overwhelming. Christie tried to protest, but only muffled, desperate grunts escaped from around my thick shaft, the sounds vibrating against my skin and pushing me closer to the edge.

 "Little sluts don't get to talk," Wendy declared, her voice sharp as broken glass. "Little sluts suck dick and lick pussy. And if they do a good job, they get rewarded. Maybe you didn't realize it when you agreed to be my little whore, but this is just the beginning. Now, make your husband cum in your mouth. And you better suck him dry. Good little sluts don't spill a single drop."

 I was writhing on the couch, completely at their mercy as Wendy continued to brutalize Christie's head up and down my engorged cock. Tears streamed from Christie's eyes, tracing clean paths through the mess on her cheeks as she fought her gag reflex with my shaft buried deep in her throat. She thrashed, but it was useless; with her hands bound and Wendy's iron grip on her head, she was helpless to stop my thick member from strangling her.

 The sight of Wendy's naked, powerful body pressing down on Christie's smaller, restrained frame was finally too much. With a guttural roar, I arched my back, and my orgasm tore through me. My jism pulsed from my dick in hot, thick spurts, flooding my ex-wife's waiting mouth (something she never would let me do normally). With Wendy still forcing her head down, Christie gagged on my release, coughing and sputtering as my sperm leaked out from the seal of her lips and dribbled down my crotch.

 Wendy watched the entire spectacle with a cruel, satisfied smile on her lean, sexy face. Spent, I collapsed back onto the couch, my cock pulsing out its last drops as Christie finally sucked air into her burning lungs.

 "That was pitiful," Wendy observed, her voice dripping with contempt. "The worst cocksucking from a little slut I've ever seen. I was going to be nice to you, but not now. Up, girl. It's time to move you." She yanked Christie to her feet by the belt and, leading her like a dog, marched her into the dining room.

 For the second time that morning, I stumbled to the bathroom to clean up and catch my breath. When I emerged several minutes later and walked into the dining room, I found that Wendy had been busy. Christie was now on the dining room table, stretched out across it like a feast. The same ties that had bound her to the bed now held her fast to the big round table, spread-eagled in all her naked glory. The table was just long enough to accommodate her, her wrists tied to one end and her ankles bound to the other.

 Christie turned her head to me, and I saw the finishing touch: a wide swath of duct tape sealed her lips shut.

 "She was starting to complain," Wendy mentioned casually. "I figured she'd already proven she doesn't know how to use her mouth, so I sealed it for her."

 Just then, the doorbell rang.

 My head snapped toward the front door, a jolt of pure shock running through me. Wendy stood up, a wicked glint in her eye. "That must be my old roommate. I knew she was nearby, so I called her and asked her over. I also had her stop and pick up some whipped cream. Since your wife here isn't good for much else, we're going to turn her into a sundae for all of us to feast on!"

Christie's eyes grew wide with panic, and she looked at me with a wild, apprehensive plea. Oh, yeah. I was definitely going to have to call in sick today.