Ensure Goodness: Chapter 2 of "How Bad She Needs to Be Good"

Ensure Goodness: Chapter 2 of "How Bad She Needs to Be Good"

One day after we made the decision to devote ourselves to Mr. Marks, I walked into Allen's office, shut the door, and put an envelope with our agreement on his desk. He glanced up at it without touching it. He leaned back in his chair, studying me.

I felt like he was assessing a new woman - the one I had become for him. My blouse was see-through, and I hoped the pattern would conceal the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra. As he gazed at me, he could see my erect nipples and a hint of brown covering my areolae through the delicate fabric. When I shifted my feet, he could observe my breasts swaying. Through the open neckline, he caught a glimpse of my exposed cleavage, craving to experience his sperm dripping down. He might glance up to notice the red gloss on my lips, mirroring the gloss that would result from his cock parting them and his seed smearing them. He could view my auburn hair, neatly pulled back to expose my face if he chose to fuck it. If he looked down, he would see the tight skirt with a slit that revealed the top of my thigh. Had I taken out a few stitches to allow it to split even more? It would be simple for him to slide his hand up and discover how moist I was.

"Go open the door," he commanded, "We wouldn't want gossips to talk."

"Yes, sir," I replied, slightly embarrassed for my behavior. I went to the door and opened it, ensuring I showed off my round ass as I walked away. I hoped he'd like what he saw. Would he want to hit it? Maybe... or paddle it?

I came back to my seat and sat down with my legs crossed. The material split enough to display my bareness to him. I closed my legs merely to feel the pressure.

"Hungry for this, I see," he commented.

I nodded, breathing shallowly and rapidly. Was I about to orgasm just by presenting myself to him? Thirsty slut.

He picked up the envelope and read the contents quietly. Although he was as old as my father, he was in far better shape than even my husband. A touch of silver in his hair and beard, but he appeared like he could run a marathon. He opened my letter and took his time reading it. It was brief, and I had composed numerous options in my mind before talking to my husband, Tim, about taking this step.

The letter stated, "We, the signatories, recognize the consequences and implications, and willingly accept them. We are now committed to serving Mr. Marks in any capacity he desires, understanding that our marriage belongs to him, our bodies are for his enjoyment, and his will is our guide, as long as he desires."

At the bottom were our shaky signatures.

Eventually, Allen remarked, "Very... ample."

I tried to smile, but my feet felt weighty.

"We must establish conditions and all your fantasies. I need to understand your limits and horny desires."

I nodded. My lungs begged for air.

"You'll need a safe word."

I shook my head, refusing the idea. I'm open to everything.

"I demand it. Red, Yellow, Green," he dictated, "Stop, Slow, More."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Marks," I acquiesced, "Green."

"I enjoy it when you say my name, my pet." Allen purred.

I had wanted to say, "Yes, my master, Mr. Marks," and settle for a mere whimper instead.

"Did the two of you fuck after you signed this?"

"Y- yes." I nodded nervously. Had we made an error by doing so without his authorization?

"That's the last time you cum without my command."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Marks." My pulse raced. He was taking control of us.

"Masturbate yourself."

"What?" I looked toward the open door. "Here?"

"Just be discreet, Rebecca." Allen gave a playful smile.

I hesitantly moved my hand inside my skirt.

"Interesting," he observed, "You could've messed around in any other spot, but you went straight for it, didn't you, my needy one?"

Damn, he got me.

"Yes, sir," I acknowledged, "I couldn't control myself."

"No, no you can't," Allen added, smiling. "Use your fingers to stimulate yourself. Stay still and don't raise your elbow or wrist."

It was hard at first, but I eventually learned how to only shift my fingers without moving my arm. I didn't need instructions for pleasure, but I hadn't had to worry about others witnessing me before. I glanced at Allen while I moved my fingers around my labia and clit, occasionally slipping them into my vagina to get my wetness.

"You're so willing to come for me right here and now, aren't you?" Allen questioned.

"Mm hmm."

"You would orgasm for me in front of me, wouldn't you?"

"Mm hmm."

"So you're noisy when you masturbate, huh?"

I nodded, biting my lip in nervousness. I could feel my body yearning for release.

"Are you already close?"

I took a deep breath and shook my head. "No."

"Take your time." He paused, giving me a stern look. "We can't have anyone walking in here. Now, show me your hand."

I held it out for him to see. My fingers were dripping with my wetness. He nodded in approval.

I licked them clean, eyeing him all the while. He smirked.

"Each time, you'll bring yourself to the edge. You'll clean your fingers as you did now. If you hesitate or disobey, you'll regret it. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

He paused, then tapped something on his computer screen. "Send me a picture of your fingers when you reach the edge."

"Yes, Sir," I whispered softly.

My mind was racing. Every hour I was expected to please myself and show him the evidence. Even if it meant waking my husband up at night. I felt a knot in my stomach. The thought of getting caught was terrifying.

"What?" He interrupted my thoughts. "Are you quitting already?"

I shook my head, trying to look unconcerned. "No, Sir."

He turned back to his computer, forcing me to look away. "Do as I instructed."

I unlocked my phone and sent him a new contact labeled "Sir."

His eyes met mine again. "Each time you come to the edge, I expect a picture."

"Yes, Sir," I breathed. My body was throbbing with want. I looked down at the time on my computer. What time was it? What had I been doing? I'd been so lost in his command that I had no idea how much time had passed.

"Rebecca?"

"Yes, Sir?" I asked.

"Don't forget."

I nodded, though my mind was reeling. Each hour I had to give myself to him, my desire mounting, my submission increasing. I would not question his demands. I had no choice.

When would I have to do this? What would he want? I closed my phone, trying not to fret. Tim was apparently involved somehow. Did he know? Would he receive my pictures? Would he understand why? Was I doing the right thing?

All of a sudden, I felt a touch of excitement. Yes, this was it. Total submission. I could hardly contain my anticipation. This was more than I imagined a submissive could experience in an afternoon. It was amazing.

Allen was watching me, a smile playing on his lips. "Do you have a question?"

"No, Sir," I said, sitting up straighter.

He turned back to his computer. "Text your husband my number."

I unlocked my phone and sent him a text. He nodded in response.

"Each time you text him, tell him you have no choice," he said. "You will obediently serve."

"Yes, Sir."

I was playfully trying to be more coy now, even though my mind was everywhere. I took in the way the light hit his face as he worked, my body brimming with need. Every little movement of his hand on the keyboard, every breath between words, was part of a bigger thing, part of a plan that was connected to me. I was a part of it all.

Then, he paused. He looked up from his computer. I could tell he was enjoying the way things were unfolding.

"And what should he do?"

I didn't answer. What did he mean? My face went slack as realization dawned. He wanted me to be seen. To be naked before Tim, to be used. I didn't know how to feel about that. All control was his now.

"I'd better go." I stood up, gesturing at my hands.

"Add my number to your favorites."

I did.

"Anything else?"

I shook my head.

"Good."

He turned back to his computer and I walked out, feeling accomplished--and yet, still not understanding what he wanted. I needed to obey and wait. That was my duty.

I walked out the door, feeling incredible. I had just submitted to Sir. He was in just as much control as I'd thought he was. Oh, the feelings this brought me! My hormones were raging.

As I sat down at my desk, I contemplated the upcoming hourly routines. I had to make sure my phone was always handy, waiting for when he would instruct me. And he had brought Tim into it, but how much? What would happen next?

The clock on the wall ticked away. I watched it malevolently. How long till the first hour was up? Could he really expect me to deny myself that often, deny my own pleasure? I wanted to shout no, I couldn't, but I knew he wouldn't listen. I couldn't disobey.

I looked at the words on my screen: Do as you're told.

I was astonished by the trust Tim had in me. He was taking an enormous risk. Allen could want anything from him. I had the benefit of desire. I've wanted Allen for so long. He was an ideal in my mind. But Tim had none of that. He just knew my want. And his own. He loved me.

I believed in Allen. He was right, wasn't he? He knew precisely what I should tell Tim and how. Allen had the experience. After all, Tim acted the way Allen said he would. I smirked as I recalled how Allen laughed when I shared the details of Tim's submission to me. How Tim enjoyed licking his own cum from me. How Tim pretended it was from another man.

Suddenly, loud music interrupted my thoughts. I jumped as the alarm rang. An hour had flown by. I reached down between my legs in relief. Then I felt scared. I couldn't experience bliss. I had to proceed slowly. There was no purpose in waiting for wetness. I was already drenched. I attempted to make it last, but immediately I could feel the surge of pleasure rising within me like rising waves. I froze as I hesitated to move another muscle. I waited for the rush to subside, then slowly began touching myself. I vowed to make my fingers wet for him.

I lifted up my hand and held my phone camera to review them. I wasn't satisfied. I went back to examine if I could make my fingers shinier. Looking again, I adjusted my phone down on the desk to modify the settings. I looked again. I thought my fingers appeared good enough. I appreciated the appearance of the gloss over my painted nails. I applied an additional layer, I reasoned. I spread my fingers a little to draw a silvery string between them to glisten in the light.

I took the picture and sent it to Allen. The help phone tone caused a ripple of excitement within me. I considered, I'm really doing this.

I licked my fingers as I awaited several jumpy minutes before I received a response. "Don't be late again."

How did I mess up the time?! I was to blame. I had spent too long admiring my appeal. I was determined to make amends.

I did this every hour throughout the day. I had to leave a meeting to "Go to the facilities." On the road home, I had to stop on the side. By the time I arrived at our home, my skin was laced with electricity. I worried that I'd ignite spontaneously. It had only been ten hours.

When I arrived home, Tim emerged from his office to greet me. He works from home.

"Hi, dear--" he said and then he saw how I was garbed. "F**k me," he expressed quietly.

I made a small curtsy. The skirt opened on my thigh.

"Restrain," I said. "You'll make ME come."

He growled, "What?" as he kissed me once more. He moved his hand up my unclothed thigh.

"No," I said. "We're not supposed to come."

Tim exhaled heavily. "Clearly, this has started."

I nodded, stating, "But I'm glad you like my attire."

"Not him?"

"Oh, he got to scrutinise it, but I'm certain that nothing will occur between us at work. It makes sense."

I walked inside and cast off my heels. I entered the kitchen to get a glass of water. I needed to replenish my liquids.

Tim followed me. While I drank the water, he reached into his pocket. He took something out.

"Here," he said, proffering it to me.

I stepped forward and peered inside his palm.

"A house key?"

"You are to deliver him this tomorrow. First thing."

"Our house key?"

"Yes," Tim said, "He said he would come round."

My heart beat quickly. I pictured Allen slipping into our house during the night. I gazed at Tim, who seemed somewhat stunned. Then the alarm rang, and he flinched.

I gave no reaction. I simply said, "I need to do something."

I leant back against the counter. I licked my fingers, slid my hand up my thigh, and touched myself over my lips. I inserted my fingers and brought my thumb to catch some of my liquids, rubbing them along my button.

Tim's mouth gaped. He was speechless.

I began to pant. I looked into Tim's eyes.

"He had me touch myself... every hour."

"Oh, wow."

"But Tim, I'm not allowed to ejaculate."

"I... OK."

I perform this act for him, hour by hour, right up to the very limit.

"Man."

"I need... I need to cum so... badly."

I grunted in irritation as I withdrew my hand. I held it up and brushed my fingers together. I encouraged Tim to take a photo. "Take a photo," I said, giving him my phone. "Get close," I said as I slid my tongue between my fingers.

Tim leaned towards me and I heard several shutter sounds. Finally, he stopped and handed it back to me. I shook my head and continued cleaning my fingers.

"Choose the best one and send it to him."

Tim nodded and flicked through until he found one that seemed fitting. He displayed it to me. It was a very close-up shot. My lower lip had a bead of liquid and my fingers were sunk deep into my mouth. My thumb shone in the foreground.

"Yep, that one."

He stated, "Who do I send it to?"

"Sir."

"Oh."

He discovered the contact and dispatched the photo. I was happy that he confirmed it. I checked the time: 6:20 p.m. It was getting close. I didn't know how much leeway Sir had. That indecision seemed to be the secret ingredient. I couldn't be sure when I was doing right. And there was that subversive thought that I might want to fail just so I could experience the consequences.

As Tim rubbed his thumb across the screen, I noticed he was flipping through the earlier images. He saw picture after picture of my moist fingers. Some were taken in front of a mirror - the bathroom, my car. Some were simply my hands. Tim was breathing heavily.

"These are not for you," I said as I extended my hand.

He looked up. He seemed sheepish as he handed the phone back to me. I examined the screen and could see he had an erection bulging against his jeans.

"I wish I could take care of you, darling," I said. "But we can't come."

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "This will be difficult."

He then chuckled at his own joke. He rolled his eyes. I threw back my head and chuckled too. Then I bit my lip. Thoughts of Allen's strong arms, his calm eyes as he watched me masturbate crossed my mind. He wasn't wearing the same distressed expression that Tim wore while he watched me just now. I experienced a pang of empathy for Tim. He would undoubtedly endure this for a while. But I couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement at the same idea.

I said, "Do you know if Sir requested anything else of you?"

"I shouldn't say. I suppose that's fair play. But he wants to meet me. Alone."

I nodded. No surprise there. Limits had to be established. Questions had to be asked.

"Are you okay with that?" I asked.

"I'm really... really anxious," Tim admitted. "I kind of always imagined I'd always be with you."

I nodded in understanding. "He knows what he's doing, Tim," I assured him. "Just go along with it. This is probably just getting to know you, I'm sure. He won't force you to go beyond your comfort zone. Additionally, we have safe words: red, yellow, green."

"Okay, yeah. That's pretty simple."

He still seemed anxious. He still had an erection. I wondered, maybe Tim was hoping to be tested a little, to venture into the yellow range.

"When's the date?" I inquired.

"I don't know," he answered. "He'll tell me later." He pointed at my hand, "But now I understand what he meant when he said, 'Your wife is quite the tease.'"

"For fucking sake!" I exclaimed. "What did you think he meant?"

"What do you think?" He spread his arms wide in a theatrical expression of confusion.

"Come on, you pervert," I teased, rubbing my hand over his erection.

"He said..." Tim moaned gently.

"He said," I purred, "We... can't... cum. And do you know what? I'd probably come the moment Sir slid inside me."

Just as Tim's lips parted and his breathing stopped, I removed my hand.

He bent at the waist, panting. I giggled.

"How'd I do?" I asked.

He raised a single finger, breathing deeply. Eventually, he stood back up. He was still erect and the bulge in his jeans did not appear to have softened. I laughed before saying, "You're more durable than me."

At night and all through the day, each time the alarm rang, Tim witnessed me getting close to the brink for Sir. He even joined in. He stayed by my side, playing with his dick and licking his finger. In the early morning, after capturing my image, while I washed off the wetness from my hands, I observed Tim's cock secreting more pre-cum.

I tilted my head in his direction.

He glanced at me and realized what I was insinuating. He put his thumb into his mouth and cleaned it.

"Prior to last night," I informed him, "You could've made me submit to you."

I snuggled up next to him. I rubbed my fingers over the tip of his penis, making it slick. I brought my hand to my lips, hesitantly, then changed my mind and offered it to him.

"From now on," I proclaimed, "It's only Sir's cum for me."

As he sucked my finger, he moaned.

"Unless," I added, "Sir decides to punish me with yours."

I began running my fingertips along Tim's dick gently.

"I ponder what repercussions I would experience... for ejaculating."

"Becky," he whimpered.

"I ponder whether I'd enjoy witnessing it." I stroked harder.

Tim recoiled and pulled back, "No, no. Becky, stop, please?!"

"Please?" I mimicked. "That's what I'll say to him when he's masturbating on my face."

"Oh, God, Becky." He was panting.

Then it occurred to me that maybe I overstepped my boundaries. I reached out to caress his chest. "I apologize. That was cruel. I'm simply... agitated."

This was accurate. Being so close to climaxing and not reaching it, alongside the lack of solid rest, made me irritable. And I desired to vent these feelings on someone. Furthermore, the fact that Tim was so passive now motivated me to challenge him more, further humiliate him. "Please" was evoking a response in me because I would have preferred that he could dominate me. We were with Sir now because Tim lacked the capacity. What's more, as my desires intensified, I berated Tim for being incapable of satisfying them.

Probably this was precisely what Allen wanted. He desired me so overcome with lust that I would not only yield all my desires to him, but also enjoy seeing Tim suffer due to this. Already, I was feeling the sensations intertwined: my pleasure, Tim's pain.

The following day, I ventured to the office (almost on the verge of climaxing on the way there) and entered Mr. Marks' office with an ornate parcel. Today, I appeared more modestly clad. I hoped I was alluring enough for him. I still forewent underwear though — just in case.

Tim nodded and got hold of the package. He opened it. It contained the household key on a chain. The keychain comprised a gold pendant fashioned from linked hearts. The keyring was actually something Tim had previously gifted me. I felt the need to make the present more substantial — more personal — and I had no time to shop. Allen smiled.

"Very touching," he remarked. "Thank you, Rebecca."

He pocketed the key and looked up at me. I hadn't settled in my seat yet.

He unlocked his phone and swiped his thumb up, presumably browsing through my texts. I had forwarded him the images every hour for 23 hours. The next alarm would sound in a few moments.

"2:26 AM, Rebecca." He handed me the phone. I spotted my face stuck to my fingers. I viewed the timestamp. Then I recalled, I'd been distracted by Tim's actions.

My face felt frigid. I felt a little unsteady. The lack of sleep didn't aid me. Even when I fell back asleep, I couldn't enter a deep sleep. My mind was filled with images of Allen throughout the night.

"Sir, I wasn't aware..."

"Another 24 hours, my pet."

"But...

I took a deep breath to calm myself. I was becoming upset. My throat was dry.

"It made me crave..." I shut my eyes for a moment. Gazing at Allen's face was too intense. I opened them again, "It made me crave... to make his life more difficult."

Allen slightly leaned back in his chair. "Interesting," he said in a soft, low voice. He was like a living ASMR video.

"No." I replied. Saying it aloud, I could sense the annoyance in my tone. It was challenging to maintain my tone when all I desired was to climax. I could feel the urge rising, rolling in with the scent of Allen's cologne. Yet, the urge stopped short of cresting.

"You feel sorry for him." Allen said.

"Yes."

"You wish to... humiliate him."

"Yes, yes... Oh..."

Oh, no. No.

"You yearn to demean him." Allen said.

"Yes-s-s-s-s."

And I climaxed. It took immense effort not to shout. My orgasm had been building for an entire day - 24 times near the finish line. At the endpoint, I stumbled and fell just before crossing it.

My eyes were fixed on Allen's so he could witness fear, anger, and frustration rolling along the waves of pleasure rising from my solar plexus through my spine, across my neck, and pouring down like a river of sparks across my scalp. I'd never experienced an orgasm like it. It kept flowing like an arc lamp, which once lit was not going to extinguish until the current was cut off.

Allen's face remained unchanged, but then spots of white started to obscure his image. A second elapsed, and I was gazing up at him from my seat.

I was breathing heavily. I'm unsure if I'd made any noise. My hand was still inside my dress and I felt the sharp pain in my elbow where it had struck the armrest.

Allen stated, "Caution not to lock your knees."

So cruel, I thought. "Yes, Sir," I said. I'll remember that.

"You climaxed," he said indifferently.

"Yes, Sir," I said (Obviously!) suddenly acknowledging the gravity of my misconduct while simultaneously processing the intensity of the climax. I didn't even contemplate turning to examine the door. I didn't matter who knew at that point. "I'm so sorry."

"There will be repercussions," he said.

Tears welled in my eyes, and I couldn't comprehend why. I had disobeyed him. I had displeased him. And I had the most exquisite climax of my life performing the act. I was shaken.

I attempted to stand up, but my weak knees made it difficult. My hand was still tucked within my dress, and I experienced the sharp pain of my elbow bumping against the armrest. I tried again to stand, but was unsuccessful.

Allen halted me.

"Rebecca?"

I faced him. "Hm?"

"Perhaps complete that up before you depart."

I recognized my fingers were in my mouth. It had become an involuntary action now that without even realizing it, I had my hand in my pocket, licking my moist pussy fingers upon departing his office. I could have continued tasting my juices as I walked down the hall, but a co-worker might have questioned what I was consuming. (It's delicious! Give it a try.)

I giggled lightly and delicately licked each finger for Sir before exiting the door.

As I left, he stated, "Concentrate on your work today, Rebecca."

As if. My entire day would be more complex knowing that not only were there 24 more of these sessions to endure, but also the excitement of the potential punishment, along with a touch of what it may entail. Hadn't I sought it out in the first place? Didn't I want it?

Yet, I had a sense that punishment wasn't a prize with Sir. It might not be what I desired. Red? Yellow? Green. Thus, consumed by a green state of mind.

I needed longer to finish the project. I was slightly preoccupied and hadn't achieved my goals, necessitating several extra hours in the office. Fortunately, my edging schedule coincided with a suitable opportunity for a climax in the spacious garage before returning home. I could've pulled over on the freeway, but I refused to risk it taking additional time to do so securely. I didn't wish a third day of this torture.

Yet, at home, Tim didn't respond when I walked in. I entered his office and discovered he wasn't there. It became clear that he was with Sir. Immediately, my phone buzzed with a text from Tim: "I'm with Sir."

So, that was it. They decided to let me know about their conversation. They must have been considering my feelings, right? Who came up with this idea first? Probably Tim. But maybe he couldn't say anything because he was with Sir. Allen, on the other hand, could have easily asked Tim to pass on the message.

Were they at the bar where Allen and I first met? The place where he planted the idea in my mind (oh, so much planting!)? And was Sir sitting at his usual table? I felt the urge to check Tim's location, but managed to resist it. Allen said he wanted to know about everyone's boundaries and fetishes. Did Tim share everything with him? And had I told Allen everything? Was he delving into Tim's deepest, darkest fantasies?

Actually, this wasn't true. Tim could simply say "yellow" or "red" and end the conversation right there. What would Sir do then? He would surely respect those boundaries. But then would he call off this arrangement? Would he decide that we aren't prepared enough for him?

The panic started churning in my stomach. I could feel the cold fear rising, despite not even realizing it deep within. Please, Tim, don't screw this up. Just give this a chance.

I woke up and started rubbing myself. I pictured Allen and Tim sitting at the bar, discussing sex and limits. I imagined Allen's hand on Tim's shoulder, reassuring him and giving him the confidence to share all his secret desires. I wondered if Toni, the waitress Allen had dominated earlier, was there too. Would she be a part of these candid conversations?

The jealousy hit me, alongside the wave of arousal in my lower abdomen. I wanted Tim to join the conversation. I wanted him to watch Sir and me. Did I want to watch Sir and Tim together? Were my husband's fantasies centered around reclaiming me? Could I handle watching Tim go down on Sir, or Toni?

The thought of Sir and Toni took me by surprise.

I sent a photo to Sir, hoping he would share it with Tim. Was he planning to probe Tim's reactions to this? Was he prepared to see me serving Sir? To see me worshipping his cock?

My mind was racing aimlessly. I forgot to have breakfast. I just lay down on the couch, imagining their conversation. Another hour passed before I heard the key in the door.

It was Sir. He opened the door. Tim was behind him. They were both silent. My skirt was lying on the floor, and my fingertips were sliding in and out of my vagina, wet and eager.

"Good timing," Sir said.

I briefly entertained the idea of mishandling this situation, but as I saw Sir's face, my anger melted away. All I wanted now was to please him. I raised my hand, spread my juices on my lips, and rubbed them enthusiastically.

"No need to send a picture, darling," Allen said. "I'll keep this one in my mind." He tapped on his temple.

They both walked in. Tim closed the door behind him. Sir sat down next to me on the couch. I sat up and made a move to pick up my skirt from the floor, but Sir said, "Leave it."

I sat naked below the waist, wearing only my blouse, which was held together by one button by now. I had been playing with my nipples all night, and my breasts were half-exposed to remind Sir how much I was turning him on.

Allen pointed to a chair next to the couch, and Tim sat there. His lips were pursed, like when he was trying to solve a work problem. He must have been given a lot to think about.

Allen threw his arm around my shoulder. I sighed, rested in his possessive embrace. He said, "You're looking absolutely stunning, darling. Right, Tim?"

Tim gave a strong nod. He wanted to reassure me, to tell me everything was okay.

"So, darling," Allen began, "Tim and I had a highly productive conversation. Didn't we, Tim?"

"Yes," Tim said, still slightly dazed. He nodded at me to show me he was okay with what they'd talked about.

"You can rest assured that Tim didn't reveal anything that might change my mind about you. He did share a lot, and I now have a clearer picture," Allen said.

My mind was a whirlwind, and I was really curious. I wanted to learn all the details.

I felt another wave of fear creep in. It hadn't occurred to me that maybe Allen would turn us down, and even worse, my husband could have done something to make Allen back off.

"But you need to know that my attraction is for you, Rebecca," he said. "Becky. My pet. It's been almost from the start."

His hand slid up my shoulder and onto my neck. I leaned back against him naturally. He was like a magician putting his birds to sleep so he could put them in a cage. His finger traveled along my earlobe and the top of my ear, and I shivered at his touch.

Allen commented, "Tim is aware of my feelings for you and has agreed that I'll be your lover now, your partner. Isn't that right, Tim?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And Tim, how does it feel watching me touch your wife?"

"I'm excited by it."

"Why?"

"Cause I can see how much she wants it."

My stomach filled with fluttery feelings just hearing him say it, watching his eyes sparkle with emotion, seeing the flush on his face as he had to confess it in front of me while I relaxed under the touch of another man. I shifted uneasily in my seat, wanting to heighten the pleasure.

"So, my pet, you see, your husband will do whatever you ask of him. You'll dominate him. You'll own his body. If you want him to watch, he'll watch. If you want him to participate, he'll participate. If you want him to suck my dick, I'll allow it."

I took a deep breath at the thought. I glanced at Tim, who had a hint of fear but also a slight nod.

"So, my pet, you see, your husband will do anything you ask of him. You'll dominate him. You'll own his body. If you want him to watch, he'll watch. If you want him to participate, he'll participate. If you want him to suck my dick, I'll allow it."

I gulped. My head swam with the responsibility of it. Tim was now in my control.

What did I even want with him, though? I was now leaning against Allen, casually stroking his stomach through his shirt, feeling his strength, smelling the blend of his cologne and his sweet sweat. But that's when it hit me. Allen had me. My husband was watching me caress another man, and I couldn't help but think he was just as excited as I was.

Allen said, "So, my pet. What are your boundaries?"

I looked at Allen. The same adoration I'd felt for him years earlier came flooding back - the adoration of the first woman I saw through the garage door as she worshipped his beautiful, thick cock.

"I don't have any, Sir," I breathed.

"I'll understand your feelings right now. With you being so turned on, I could practically do anything to you, ask you to do anything, and you'd do it for me. Give me your limits," Allen began.

I gazed into Allen's strong jaw. I slid my fingers through his soft beard for the first time. "Thank you for this gift, Sir," I whispered. "My husband is watching me touch another man."

Tim stayed silent. He could do nothing now. He'd already given me over to this man. I snuggled up against Allen. I lifted my knee up against his leg, revealing my damp pussy to Tim.

"What are your boundaries, pet?"

I looked up at Allen, feeling that adoration I'd once felt as the woman in the garage.

"I don't have any, Sir."

Allen considered my response. "It's understandable that you'd say that now. Give me your boundaries later," he said. I didn't argue.

The shock hit me. I hurriedly rolled in front of him on my knees. "Please, please, use me. I'm so ready," I begged, running my fingers up and down his thighs, hesitant to touch the bulge in his slacks without permission, but needing to touch him all the same.

"No," Allen said. "Stop, Rebecca."

I stopped, breathless with anticipation.

"Tonight, you and Tim will make a list. He'll research kinks online. If one goes too far or freaks you out, write it down. Add yellow or red next to each. Skip the greens. Tomorrow you'll give me the list."

I had not taken my eyes off Allen. "I can't imagine anything I wouldn't do for you," I whispered.

"That's why, my pet, I won't ask you in this state," he explained.

"Yes, sir," I acknowledged, realizing he was correct. I trusted him wholeheartedly, believing he wouldn't make me do something uncomfortable for me. Although I could always yell "red," I needed to be free of sexual inhibitions and take this seriously.

Glancing at Tim, I noticed the lust glimmering in his gaze. Here I was with merely an open top on, my bare ass exposed for both of them, essentially begging another man to physically and sexually exploit me without limits on the second day of our commitment to him.

What could he be thinking? His pretty, blonde wife was kneeling in front of another man's thighs. Then I saw the subtle movement of his hand. He was surreptitiously rubbing his thumb near his crotch. His dick was hard inside his pants. He refrained from stroking it in front of us, yet he couldn't resist pressing down on the material adjacent to it. Perhaps my husband could comprehend my compulsive need, after all.

"Stop playing with yourself, hubby," I informed him. His hand halted instantly. He hadn't realized he was performing this action. Tim turned to look at Allen, who simply chuckled.

"What could blame him, with this sumptuous ass staring back at him?" Allen said, reaching down to rub my ass cheek. He squeezed it and I let out a squeal. Allen commented, "This is the first time I've seen it from this angle. It's as sweet as I imagined. Get up here."

I jumped onto the couch like an eager puppy. I kneeled on the couch next to him. I started to untie the buttons on my blouse. I allowed Allen to push both sides away from my chest, then one sleeve slid off my shoulder and down my arm. My breasts were full and my nipples were painfully firm.

Sir pulled one breast and lightly ran his fingers over my nipple. I shivered. He then ran his hand up my shoulder, over it, and gripped me firmly. I trembled.

Suddenly, I felt myself lifted. His arms were so powerful that for a second, I was hovering in the air. He swiftly dropped me down over his knees. I gasped at the sudden shift. I felt the fear surge inside me as I comprehended the position I was in. He lifted one leg slightly and let my other knee sink slightly. Now, my ass was elevated higher, while my torso was hanging slightly down. The natural pull of my legs spread my inner thighs apart, and I felt the cool air brush against my exposed pussy. My entire vulva tingled already. I quivered. I felt my anus tighten.

"Now," Sir declared as he stroked my ass cheeks, warming them, "My pet disobeyed my command, so I warned her there'd be repercussions."

In unison with the wave of fear, I felt the immediate gush in my vagina. It felt like the slight pinch from biting on a lemon wedge, followed by excessive saliva flooding my mouth.

I gazed towards my husband. My panting breaths were misting in front of me.

Sir inquired, "Do you comprehend why this is happening, my pet?"

"Yes, sir," I responded.

"Talk to your husband about it then."

I locked eyes with my husband. "I came in the morning without authorization as I was masturbating for Sir in his office."

"Indeed, pet," replied Sir. "And what was the thought so compelling and sensual that you couldn't resist climaxing?"

Oh shit. Was he making me confess this to my husband's face, while I was perched over my master's knee, exposing my naked ass waiting for the first spanking of my life? Yes, yes, I moaned.

I said, "It happened upon my admission..."

"Yes, pet?" He was emphatically stroking my ass now. My nerve cells were vibrating with sensation.

"I came... when he instructed me to confess how much I desired... to see you... suffer."

I yelled. The initial slap was more powerful than I'd thought. The shock was then followed by the intense sting. The fire raced through my vulva, from my clitoris to the innermost depths of my vagina. I couldn't determine precisely where the fire struck, yet my entire insides awakened, and a burst of white light surged up my spine.

Tim appeared alarmed at the simultaneity of Sir's hand and my shriek. Perhaps he felt the pleasure in hearing that my answer to seeing him humiliated.

Sir said, "Count."

"One," I offered.

The second smack landed. I teared up.

"Two," I said.

Tim seemed ready to stand up, yet I shook my head lightly.

"Three!" I cried.

Allen continued rubbing my heated cheeks, which amplified the fire across my skin. He said, "We continue until you say red, my pet." He landed another swat.

"Four!" I sobbed.

Tears streamed down my face. Sir was hitting the same spot every time. [

The agony was so great, I couldn't pinpoint its location anymore. It was all permeating my pelvis.

My spouse was looking on, tears in his eyes as well. His fingers were deathly pale as he pressed down into his thigh.

"Six." I caught sight of Tim and my eyes sharpened. His manhood was erect within his clothes. He was deriving pleasure from me receiving this punishment.

"Seven." This was the recompense I deserved for being such a lustful slut.

"Eight." I had to be a slut as much as Tim needed me to be a slut.

"Nine." This was transpiring because my husband delighted in me lying across another man's lap, permitting him to touch me without hindrance, bringing me delight.

"Ten. Mm." So much gratification, Tim. My entire sex felt like fiery warmth and radiance now. I no longer felt pain. It was like an orgasm yet constant. It wasn't waves, it was magma surging through my body -- erupting.

"Eleven! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God... Red!"

Allen halted. He gently placed his hand on my back. My rear felt like it was on fire. The molten core of my passion flowed from my vagina back to my backside. The embers glowed now where there was previously a blaze.

Tears streamed down my face. I struggled and shifted to steer my attention away from my stinging rear end.

Allen brushed his palms tenderly over my back and shoulders. The pain gradually abated as the caresses appeared to interrupt the flow of signals to my brain. After a few minutes, he hauled me up into his lap. My knees were drawn up, and I buried my face in his chest and bawled.

I could hear Tim gasp as he must have witnessed the red marks on my cheek.

Allen murmured softly, "There, there. Good girl. So, good. So good," as I continued to squirm over his lap. I cried into his shirt, soaking it. It was as though all the frustration and intensity that had been built up amid the near-orgasms was coming out now.

Finally, as I calmed down, I experienced another sensation overtaking me. It was the tranquilizing, comforting energy that felt like a blanket over me. I was in my master's arms, I was loved, I was cuddled, I was secure. I inclined my head to the side. I realized I was softly humming as I rested my cheek against Allen's chest. Sir was taking care of me.

"That's my girl. That's my pet. You did well."

I nodded against his shoulder.

He cradled my face in his massive hands and kissed me sweetly. I instantly responded. I merged into the kiss. I melted into his embrace. I flicked my tongue inside his mouth, relishing his saliva, the arousal hormones mingled with it. It was like a chemical merging. We were blending. He ended our kiss and I watched him lick his lips clean, savoring our first.

He said, "Are you going to do better?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I know you will, my pet." He stroked my hair. "Now, do you know why I know you'll be good?"

I shook my head.

"Explain to your husband why you said 'Red'."

Suddenly, I realized. It wasn't because of the pain. The pain was excruciating but I could tolerate more. The reason I said red was for a much more critical reason. I turned to my husband, who was frozen in place.

I knew what he was perceiving. His wife naked except for the blouse draped over her arm, her chest and breasts dripping with her sweat and tears, curled up on her master's lap, the man that just two days prior had been an old memory, kissing his wife passionately. She was staring back at her husband now with a mixture of pity and desire. She rubbed her cheek against her master's chest, teasingly caressing his inner thigh.

"I said red because I was about to climax, Sir."

Allen kissed my head. "That's accurate, Becky."

"Oh, dear God," Tim muttered as he bent over and placed his head in his hands.

My alarm sounded and I brought my hands to my vagina. Allen touched my wrist.

"Don't worry, my pet. I'll give you credit for that one."

I leaned back against his chest but I still slid my fingers into my mouth and gently suckled them.

Allen took a moment and then tweaked my shoulder.

"I'm going to go now," he said. "I have work in the morning."

He stood up, slightly lifting me to the side. I couldn't take my eyes off him as he exited the room.

As he was leaving, he said, "Regarding your husband. He also disregarded me, but I'll leave his punishment to you, Rebecca."

I was confused until I turned to look at Tim and realized that the entire front of his pants were wet.

After that, he left. I heard him lock the deadbolt with his fresh key and then he was gone.

I glanced over at Tim. "So you showed up?"

He blushed slightly.

"Just to watch or was it impossible for you to resist?"

His face was flushed, might've been from excitement or embarrassment. He said, "I... I was just observing... and..."

I shook my head. I felt annoyed at the moment. My butt cheek ached. My pussy burned. I wanted to slap my spouse for losing his focus, but at the same time, I craved his oral fixation because I was still fired up.

Here I was at the edge again. My partner had left. I felt it immediately. I'd have gone outside to his car bare-naked if he'd signaled me. Even without that, I had to deal with my mate who'd sat observing his wife shtupping another man and had blown his load while I was reclining on my lover's knee, crying with pain.

I issued him a demand, "Undress. Head to the sink to wash your pants and undergarments and then hang them in the yard to air dry. Meet me in the bedroom."

As he took care of his soiled attire, I mused over what had just played out. I had mixed emotions. I sure enjoyed the fact that I embarrassed my husband by making him clean up after himself. The world shouldn't see this, but my mate sure would. The dude couldn't help himself. He was like a teen who got aroused by tight jeans. Yes, there was something in this humiliation that turned me on. But there was also pride. He thought I was a femme fatale. I wanted to make him want more - to take things a step further.

I realized I liked being observed. I reveled in the notion that my spouse, my most intimate partner up to this point, could witness me following orders, receive punishment.

Yet, the motivation behind my desperation for my boss's attention - his body, his sexuality - came from the inability of my husband to be that for me.

I entered the bedroom. I gazed at my reflected self in the full-length mirror. The red outline where my partner's hand had rested marked my butt. Precisely where he'd given me his eleven strikes. I traced my hand over it, winced. I tried to mimic his placement on my flesh. I applied pressure, witnessed the agony anew. I yearned to feel more. It was never this hot when I spanked myself before. Yet as I thrusted the copper of my hand into the ruby imprint of his, I craved the torment. I raised my fingers to view them in comparison to his handprint. We were intertwined in the mirror.

Tim entered. He was naked. His pecker was slightly red and retracted. Brace on the cold compress, he kneeled by my side. After softly pecking my still-red cheek, he placed the cold pad against my skin. The initial contact stung, then I began to feel the soothing cool. My right hand traced the hair on Tim's ear. He tenderly kissed my cheek where it met my skinnier limb.

"Sir instructed me to look after you," he mentioned.

My heart softened. Certainly, the guru would think of that. I focused on my husband. I felt compassion for his helplessness. He couldn't help himself. I sympathized with him. I required his care. I required his love.

Still, I had to penalize him for disrespecting Sir's directive.

"You came without being given permission, Tim."

"Yes, darling, I couldn't resist."

I felt a tinge of pride. I said, "You enjoy observing your loyal spouse humping a male's lap? You take pleasure in watching me almost reach orgasm from spanking?"

His face caressed my leg; he kissed my cheek again. "So... so, much, Beauty."

I stepped away and stretched out on the bed. I lay with my face down. He came to where I was and returned the cold pad to my ruddy cheek. He checked his Watch. I guessed he was timing how long to leave it on. A smart boy.

"Get in front of me, legs spread."

His placement lined up with the head of the bed, facing me. This angle allowed me to see only his dick. As I was on my front, the distance made it inconceivable to engage in any salacious action like biting or kissing his genitals. So, I merely played with his dick and gonads. Permissive knuckles navigated them gently, similar to pushing gravy around on my plate.

"Mine," I said.

"Yes, Mistress."

That wouldn't do. I couldn't let him refer to me as "Becky," "honey," or "beloved".

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

There was a twitch in his penis. That must be a sign, I thought.

I said, "You can't touch yourself without asking for permission."

"No, Ma'am."

I stroked through his pubic hair. "Allen kept his pubic hair trimmed neatly, just like his beard. I find that very attractive."

"I'll shave it off, Ma'am."

"No, husband, you'll go completely bald down there like my pussy. I want you to be smooth. I can teach you how if you like." I felt another twitch. His member began to become erect, even though I was just prodding it.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, trembling.

"Your role with us is to serve us while we continuously dominate you. You're here for our pleasure and to fulfill any requests from Sir. Is that what you want?"

His penis filled with blood and stood erect. I stroked it lightly. I tickled and flicked it.

"Once upon a time, I enjoyed having this inside me. I'm curious about how it will feel when Sir finally puts his cock inside me. You can see how turned on you are just by thinking about it. I'll try not to enjoy that too much." I looked at Tim's eyes, which were glistening. "I can tell you're excited about the idea of me with a man's cock. Watching me take his cock inside me, witnessing my expressions as he slides into me, is something you've dreamed about. Is that right?"

Tim struggled with his breath.

"Don't cum, Tim."

He shook his head quickly. I laughed.

"When I finally experience that, I'll give you a sign. Maybe a nod or a wink. By the time I sense him going deeper than you ever have, you'll be there to see me submitting. Maybe even witness my eyes roll back in pleasure."

Tim was now breathing heavily.

"You're on the ledge, Tim. You are so close to climaxing just by thinking about your newfound lover."

He twitched, and the tip of his penis released a small bead of pre-cum.

"It's a shame that you aren't uncircumcised...uncircumcised men report more pleasure." Sir isn't either. When I saw his member for the first time, it was slick and beautiful, the tip of it retracted by its foreskin. The woman he was with seemed to enjoy using her tongue to lick it. I'm counting the days until I can have some real cock in me. In my mouth. In my vagina. In my... Tim."

His penis twitched again, and I saw his stomach muscles tighten.

"You love the idea of a foreign cock exploring areas you've never gone before. You could've done that, you know. Before."

He shivered. He appeared to be gripping the bedsheets tightly to maintain control.

"The punishment isn't getting this taken away. Your punishment is honesty. You can't betray Sir's trust, but you can respond honestly to my questions. You're the defendant in this trial. Each question you answer without hesitation and answered truthfully will bring you closer to forgiveness. If you perjure yourself, your consequences may be severe."

Tim's lips had become dry.

"Start simple. Question 1. Should I quit the game early?"

"No."

I felt a rush of excitement. He would be compelled to answer, and he was scared. I had exposed my insecurities to him. He would now reveal his own. This would be fun.

"Is it okay if I don't suck your penis?"

"No."

"No?"

"I'd...cum."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I felt shocked as I gazed at him. Some part of me felt sad, while another part was excited at the thought that he was prepared, even if it was just under the influence of a new adventure, to forego everything, including my body.

"Do you want to sleep with me again?"

"Oh, yes. Yes."

"Okay, then." That provided somewhat of a relief. "So, on to Level Two, then. Do you want to watch me making love to Sir?"

"Yes."

"Do you want Sir to make love to you?"

"No."

"There was a pause in his response. Well, let's explore further. If I wanted him to make love to you, would you agree?"

"Yes." His cheeks had turned red. His erection still stood.

"We'll see." But the notion of him actually taking another man's cock just for my delight brought me some excitement. "Do you want to sleep with other women?"

"No."

"Curious. You don't anticipate that Allen will bring other women into our bed and that you'll participate?"

"No, I don't yearn for that. I want only you... Mistress. If you require me to do anything, anything at all, I'll do it. Sir explained to me quite clearly that my consent is imperative or else..."

"What?" I inquired, somewhat worried.

"He said if I hesitated or refused you in any way, that he would abandon us. He emphasized that my reluctance may result in him leaving you... and..."

"And what?"

"I don't know if I can say."

"Then this is part of the punishment. What did Sir say?"

"Sir informed me that if I demonstrated any hesitance or resistance, that he'd depart. It would imply that I didn't have your approval, resulting in him leaving you..."

My eyes began to well up. I questioned if I'd been overly demanding. Despite this, this was now the situation we're faced with. I have my own master. Tim has his own mistress. I had no idea how profound his commitment was until now.

"Thank you, Tim. It means so much to you. I couldn't handle it if he gave up. I just couldn't. I don't believe we'll encounter a second opportunity such as this. He's just right for me. I won't reject his demands easily."

"I know. I love you," he responded.

"I love you, too." I took a breath. I'd been contemplating this for a while. "Let's proceed to Level Three. Have you ever imagined my initial affair?"

Tim pondered for a moment. I allowed him time here. Since it was Level Three, it deserved a moment's reflection.

"Yes."

"Frequently?"

"Every day."

"Really?"

"Yes, after a while."

"What did you imagine?"

He was now staring at the floor. His penis was twitching. This was a confession that was difficult - a fitting punishment for me.

"I imagined him fucking you on a date. I fantasized about how much you loved it. Then you returning home and telling me about how you'd slept with him again. I imagined you knowing that I knew, that you were in a mess and you needed me to clean you."

I was taken aback by how long this had been going on and how much it affected him. Poor Tim had been jerking off daily thinking about me continuing the affair - and I believed I had been tormenting myself needlessly.

"Do you want my pussy filled with his cum?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to taste another man's seed?"

"I want you to make me taste another man's seed, Mistress."

"It's all about me."

"Only you, Becky."

The very thought of him consuming cum only for my pleasure, even doing this in front of another man, due to the fact that the thought itself turns me on thrilled me even more.

"Do you want to be my cum-sipping slut?"

"Yes."

"Be cautious what you ask for."

He moaned, eliciting pleasure.

"Alright. Level Four. Do you engage in anal play while masturbating?"

His face had reddened. "Yes." Of course, I knew it was typical, but I desired him to say it to me.

"Have you ever sucked a cock?"

"Yes."

This caught me off guard. He had never shared anything like this with me before. Could it be college?

"Whose cock?"

"Sirs."

My heart sank. I felt a sick feeling manifest in my stomach. Tim looked agitated.

"Did... did he come?" I asked.

"No."

"Did you yearn for him to?"

"Sure, boss." That's what anyone would say.

"Why didn't he show up? Did I not satisfy him?"

"He claimed he was saving his cum for you."

I felt calmer. Still, I couldn't help but be upset. I asked, "One more question for you, Tim. Level Five. Whose cock is better?"

He didn't hesitate. "His, Ma'am."

"Did you enjoy him in your mouth?"

"Yes."

"Would you want his cock in your ass?"

"Yes."

"Do you wish you were cumming now, making me punish you again?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

I leaned against him and gently played with his dick, which was wet and trembling with desire. Tim's face paled under my piercing stare. I met his gaze.

I said while playing with his dick, "I'm planning on punishing you again, Tim. I want you to pay now for giving that cock to him before I did. If you cum again, your punishment will be that you can't watch me when he's taking me for the first time. You won't experience the joy on my face as his cock stretches my lips and slides inside me. You won't hear my pained moans and demands for him to go deeper, deeper, deeper than ever. You won't see my mouth gasp as I come on his dick, or watch my eyes flutter with each spasm of his cock inside me while he sprays me with his cum again and again and again. All you'll ever get to see is my stretched, soaking pussy after he's done with me. And you'll have to clean every last drop of my cum-covered pussy."

And with that, he started crying and his dick began to leak cum. It wasn't spurting, it was more like it was flowing out. His mouth opened, but he didn't writhe like I'm used to seeing. He was breathing heavily, as if he was about to cum but it was already flowing out.

"Have you cum?"

He shook his head.

"That's unusual. But you haven't done anything I can punish you for yet."

"Thank God. Thank you, thank you." He rubbed the sides of his head.

"We'll wait until next hour and then do it again and again, until I'm able to punish you."

"Please, no, not that."

"You can't deny me, Tim. You're going to provide me with a reason, Tim. It could take all night."

Shortly after, my alarm rang. I didn't take long before I was in a position to stop. I took a picture, making sure to capture Tim's messy crotch in the background.

As I sucked on my fingers, departing the room, I said, "Clean that up."

I went outside in search of some paper. We had a list to write.

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