Nathan Silvers - Chained slave wife

John couldn't believe his ears. Sylvia's hand on his cock almost brought him off again. He had stood in front of the mirror, watching the humiliations heaped on his wife, all the time getting his prick gently sucked and played with by this woman, and now she was inviting him to treat her as they had treated Sally. He ran his arm down Sylvia's back and caressed her ass cheeks, getting a gasp and hard squeeze of his cock as he did so.

"I'm such a wicked little girl," Sylvia said softly to him. "I deserve to be punished, hard, punished by a big strong man like you, make me do anything he wants. And everything."

John had another brief struggle. It was wrong, wrong, his father had drummed into him, wrong to strike a woman in any way at all. Wrong, wrong…

And then the long-repressed memory hit him, came out into the open. He had been just a kid, and heard noises from his parents' bedroom, got up in the middle of the night, moved along the passage in bare feet, knocked on the door. There had been a strange commotion from inside, and he couldn't understand it. After a time his father had opened the door and peered out.

"What do you want, boy?" he had asked. And behind him John had seen his mother, half out of her leather bonds, but still with her feet spread and tied to the legs of the heavy wickerwork chair in his parents' bedroom.

So that was it. Hypocrisy again. Shit, that was the real trouble, that was why he hadn't been able to deal with Sally, and why he'd married a bitch like her in the first place.

Then he turned and ran his hands over Sylvia's luscious big tits. "A wicked girl huh?"

"Oh, yes," said Sylvia, almost coming at the touch of his suddenly commanding hands. He pulled open another button of her tiny little slip and she moaned.

"Well, we shall have to punish that wicked little girl, shan't we," he said, taking her nipples in his fingers and pinching them harder.

"Oh, yes, oh, yes, sir – please, I deserve it," she gasped.

For the first time, John looked around the dimly lit room. Behind them was a huge bed, piled with pillows and cushions. But what he needed was a whip, something like Cindy and Hank had used on Sally.

"Oh, please, sir," said Sylvia, hugging him closer, gasping in his ear. "There's what you need at the head of the bed, sir. Just what you need."

A new surge of lust went through John as he led Sylvia over to the bed and tossed her onto it. She moaned and hugged a pillow into her stomach, lifting her ass. There were thin suspender straps leading down to her stockings.

Hanging at the head of the bed was a whip. A short-handled one, with strips of knotted leather reaching down in a loose bunch from it.

Sylvia moaned again as she saw him bring it out. She hadn't been whipped since the night they had planned this weekend, and she felt as if she would come just looking at it. She watched as John swung it, seeing how the strands cut through the air. Me was new to this, but already he had a pretty good idea of what to do. He stood by the side of the bed, looking at Sylvia's face as she gasped with lust, biting into one of the cushions as she waited.

John dropped the whip over Sylvia's ass, softly, judging the distance, making sure he had it right. Sylvia moaned and turned her desperate face again into the pillows.

Slowly John raised the whip again, over his shoulder, waiting as Sylvia went crazy on the bed, her ass beating up and down, waiting, begging for it. Then he whipped her ass. Hard. A single stroke, down over the heaving mounds of her ass. Sylvia screamed and almost leaped off the bed.

"Oh, yes!" she yelled.

John whipped her again, watching as the knotted leather reddened her ass cheeks. He didn't notice that his left hand was slowly running up and down his cock. At the top of her next thrust he whipped her again, heard her scream, watched as her ass rammed down into the bed and instantly surged up again, wanting the stroke that came as he whipped again, hitting her exactly at the top of her thrust.

"Oh, shit!" she yelled. "Oh, please, whip me now, make me come. I'll do anything. Whip me again, please, whip me, whip me, make me come, then whip me again… aaaaaghhhh! Oh, you lovely bastard!"

She went crazy on the bed, leaping up and down as he whipped her. Suddenly she plunged her head into the pillows and a long drawn-out scream was muffled as she came.

It had been too long, she had to come right away and she knew it wouldn't satisfy her much at all. It was great as the pain reached out, mingling with the orgasm running through her entire body, but it was just a start.

"Turn over," he said.

And there was a new authority in his voice that thrilled Sylvia – a man's command to his slave, and not to be ignored. She rolled over onto her back and gazed up at him.

"Open your legs," he said.

She spread her thighs, showing him the dark mound of her pussy – and the hard bud of her clit, showing between the lips of her cunt. For a moment John was tempted to whip her pussy, but Sylvia's tits spread invitingly over her chest, the nipples prominent, the tit flesh soft and ready. Slowly he let the strands of the whip brush over the sensitive tit mounds and he moved closer until he was at the edge of the bed, looking directly down on Sylvia. She smiled, her lips parted, the red oval inviting him to spend all his lust on her willing, helpless body.

"Oh, yes," she whispered as the whip caressed her tits.

"Run your hand down to your pussy," he said.

"I can think of a better way to do it," said a voice, and John turned to find Monique standing in the doorway.

She still had her maid's uniform on, but the skirt was up close to her waist, and she was fucking the vibrator in and out of her cunt as she looked at the two of them.

"How about I take care of her cunt while you whip her tits?" Monique suggested, the combination of the innocent teenaged face and the utter depravity of the suggestion sending further pulses of lust through John.

Monique opened the buttons at the top of her maid's uniform and showed John her small high tits. "You can whip them, too, if you want," she said, fucking the vibrator in and out of her cunt.

"Get over here," said John. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, but Sylvia's hand was on his cock.

"Oh, please," she moaned. "Please, whip me first, please!"

He looked Monique over, then told her to get between Sylvia's legs. The little maid slid onto the bed and up, kissing Sylvia's thighs as she went. Sylvia moaned and held harder to John's prick and he let her as Monique softly reached out and kissed Sylvia's cunt lips. Sylvia gasped, her hand almost tearing John's cock off. Then she screamed as John finally lost patience and whipped her across her soft spreading tits.

"Work my cock gently, bitch, or I'll whip you till you're sorry!" he snapped.

To make his point, he whipped her again and the red marks spread over her tits as she screamed and rocked on the bed. Monique sucked on her clit, sending the pleasure to meet with the agony from her red and swollen tits. Her hand clutched convulsively at John's cock as he brought the whip down again on her tits and they bounced and stretched under the slashing onslaught.

Sylvia moaned and rolled on the bed, the delicious agony flowing from her tits to meet the soft licking Monique was giving her burning pussy. Her hands were still around John's cock, rubbing up and down on the cock shaft. She was forced to look up at his cock, so long and thick in her fingers, as his arm went back and she saw the whip slashing down once more onto her tits. She yelled, twisting at the pain. And he whipped her again and she could see the lust in his eyes as he slapped the leather down mercilessly, spreading the red pain through her body, sending the first surges of a new came crashing into every tight little corner of her flesh.