John Friday - Cuffed and whipped wife

Gill left the Bennetts' house arm in arm with Marilee. Celia had put the long red wig on a foam plastic stand, one that was flocked a flesh color and shaped with a model's classic features. He had that tucked under the other arm and he felt on top of the world.

"Al's going to be a lot more strict with me in the future," Marilee said as they walked up the street. "Once he's had Lanore as a slave for twenty-four hours…"

"It will do us all good," Gill said.

Marilee had lost her tablecloth toga nearly all the way. She rapped the sleek white mink close around her lithe body and still managed to keep pace with Gill's hurried strides.

They hardly noticed all the gawking neighbors in bathrobes and pajamas, those still curious about the second car crash of the night. The old man gave the required insurance information to another homeowner and was just untangling his car from the ruins of the split rail fence when they walked by.

Gill appeared to be carrying the severed head of a tawny haired beauty under his arm, and the old man remembered seeing him with a woman just like that the first time he crashed. Then the night wind caught the open front of Marilee's borrowed coat and spread it wide.

She was stark naked underneath, her raven pussy curls shining in the glow of a street light overhead. The old man gaped, his jaw hanging slack, his foot coming down hard on the accelerator while the car was still in reverse.

It shot backward, swerved again and took out all that was left standing in the white picket fence he'd hit before. "The insurance adjusters will never believe this," he moaned. "Never!"

Lanore hated the studded-leather dog collar cinched round her neck. Al seemed to be enjoying it greatly. He was sitting naked in a kitchen chair behind her, contentedly with a beer in one hand while he swirled and cracked a three-tailed whip in the other.

The sound and her fear of hissing leather was all that kept Lanore busy with her assigned chores. She breathed in weary resignation, envying males for their strength and virility, hating them for the power they possessed. She had been shamed and mocked and made a fool of. She'd been walked naked like a dog in front of the whole neighborhood. And she knew she had only herself to blame. That's the part that hurt worst of all.

She'd been shorn of her beautiful golden hair, chained like a humble slave to a sink full of dirty dishes. One man she adored was sitting behind her, slashing the air with a cold leather whip, just waiting for an excuse to lay it across her ripe ass.

And her husband was somewhere with another woman, Lanore had no doubt of that. She watched him, if not all to herself, at least part of the time.

"I have to be more than just a neighborhood slave," she sobbed.

Al wasn't the heartless bastard she imagined him to be at that moment. Neither was Gill, she knew. They were both typical fun-loving American males, the kind who might be found in any city or suburban neighborhood. That yearning for pleasure, and the desire to avoid hassles had been mistaken for weakness.

Gill had always given in to her, and Al had come running when she had wanted him, practically with his cock hanging out. Now, to her horror, she discovered there was tougher stuff underneath.

Ad was glaring, telling her, "Wash the dishes before I whip your ass!"

And Gill was fucking Marilee next door. Lanore could hear her sultry neighbor's cries. They made her heart wrench, her stomach churn and the sink full of dirty dishes seem larger than it was when she started.

"Whip my ass, I don't care. I deserve it," she moaned. "I started this to have fun all my own way… and now everyone is having a good time except me!"

Al grinned, but she couldn't see it. He lashed across her luscious ass cheeks with his whip. He owed Gill at least that much. It wasn't a full-force blow, but enough to make Lanore wince and toss her head back, yanking the chain of her leash tight.

"Aaagh! You don't have to hurt me. I've learned my lesson!" she cried, slumping forward again.

"Somehow I doubt that, Lanore. I think there is some of the devious bitch still left in you," Al said. He whirled the whip overhead and then lashed it across her ass again.

He struck harder that time. When her head tossed back to howl in pain, the studded collar pulled tight around the back of Lanore's neck. Her bald head bobbed so furiously that Al thought for one moment he might have broken her neck.

But Lanore quickly recovered her senses and said, "Please, Al. Let me see Gill. There's so much that I have to make up for."

He hesitated a moment, then Marilee's orgasmic scream shattered the stillness of the night.

"O.K.," he said. "Sounds like Gill might be ready for you now. And Marilee can God damn well wash her own dirty dishes!"

Al took off the hated dog collar, and he walked Lanore to her own house. Both of them were stark naked, but all the other neighbors had gone back to bed.

Lanore first saw the red wig sitting on its stand on the edge of the coffee table, long and tawny tresses banging down to swirl on the floor.

"Ooooooh!" she gasped. "Gill must have gotten that for me!"

She rushed and put it on, tossing her head to straighten its long flowing waves. Then she spied that luxurious white mink coat draped over the arm of the couch.

"Aaahhh, and that too? Gill must really love me despite all I've done." She reached to put it on.

"Un-ungh," Al said, shaking his head. "The wig I'm sure was meant for you. A coat like that would cost Gill two year's pay – I don't think so. You better check with him before reaching for things you aren't suppose to have."

"You're right." Lanore jerked her hand back as though the snowy white fur she'd barely touched was red hot. "Besides, I'm sexy enough without it."

Al said nothing. He decided to wait and see. Gill and Marilee were coming down the hall, both of them smiling. Because of the tawny red wig, the raven-haired beauty didn't recognize her own neighbor at first.

"Oooh," Marilee said. "And whose luscious little slave are you?"

"I'm Gill's," she said without flinching. "And I'm going to be the best he ever had!"

"Lanore!"

"Yes, it's me."

"Did you dye your blonde hair?"

"No, I lost it. And I almost lost something that means so much more!" She sobbed and rushed into Gill's waiting arms. He hugged her and pressed her lush tits almost flat against his chest.

Marilee said, "Unnnngh, I think we should leave them alone."

Al grinned and said, "You're right. You've got a sink still half full of dirty dishes to do, floors to scrub, windows to wash…"

"Now wait just a minute!" she snapped.

"No, I've already been waiting too many years." Al brought the dog collar and leash out from behind his back. "Best damn two dollars and ten cents I ever spent in my life," Al chuckled as he cinched it tight around Marilee's neck.

"Aggghhh, you bastard!"

"Come on," he jerked the leash. "They need to be alone. And so do we!"

Lanore sucked in a long breath after Al and Marilee had left. She raised her chin and said, "So am I." Gill hugged her again and stroked his hands down through her tawny fall of hair.

"You like me better as a redhead?" she asked coyly.

"Yeah, I think I do."

"Because I remind you of Celia?"

"No, your tits are much bigger than hers. Your nipples haven't been pierced?"

"And you don't think my pussy is as clever," she said.

"Well, she has been studying muscle control for a long time."

"I have too. Ever since I had to witness the job that bitch did on your cock." Lanore writhed her bald pussy against his cock. "Is she the first!"

"So far, yes." Gill had to groan. The sensuous offering of a hairless pussy made him think of delights with very young girls.