Nathan Silvers - Chained slave wife

That was why Cindy and Hank thought she was the best slave they had ever had. That was why they pampered her, made sure that beautiful body was kept clean and in shape for the orgies they wished to use it for.

This night, they were doing nothing more than fucking, though Monique's ass showed the clear, though fading signs of how wicked she had been the day before, refusing to clean up the coffee she had spilled on the carpet.

Hank fucked his cock slowly in and out of Monique's tight little pussy and grinned at Cindy as she lay back, her endless small orgasms running through her body as Monique sucked her cunt. Hank was going to take his time, and when Cindy was done he would turn Monique over and fuck her.

Then the phone rang. Cursing, Hank pulled his prick out of Monique and went to answer it. If it was the night shift at the bar, it might be important.

"Oh, hi, Pat," he said. "No, you weren't interrupting. No more than usual, anyway. Yeah, didn't you hear? Fantastic bit of cunt. She's sucking Cindy right now. Yeah, you'll love her. Monique. Yeah." He stopped and listened for a while. "Hey, Cindy!"

"Yeah?" she said dreamily, her orgasms still washing over her.

"How about a weekend at the cabin with Pat and Sylvia? They say they want to break in a friend of theirs, say she's ripe for it. What did you say her name was?" he asked into the phone. "Sally, and her husband's John. He needs to learn how to treat a bitch, Pat says. Sound good?"

"Sure," said Cindy sleepily. "Now tell him to phone later. He's interrupting my come."

Hank went back to the phone and talked to Patrick for a while longer. Then he put the phone down and came back to where Cindy had almost finished coming.

Cindy's pussy rolled slowly against Monique's hot little tongue and her eyes were closed as she leaned back and moaned softly.

Hank surveyed the two women. Suddenly he had the urge to put Cindy in her place. She could tell Monique exactly what to do, but he was the boss, and Cindy was going to know it. He grabbed Monique and fucked her again, roughly, slamming his prick in hard until she, too, was coming and crying out.

He kept fucking until Monique was satisfied, had come until she was spent. Then he looked at the two of them, both satisfied.

"Okay," he said. "Now you both bring me off. Double blow-job. Come on."

He lay on the soft carpet, his massive fuck tool pointing up at them. Cindy called him a bastard, but she knelt with Monique and the two of them kissed each other across the tip of his throbbing cock. Slowly they slid their mouths down, licking every inch of the way, until they reached the base of the cockshaft and started up again.

Hank gurgled with pleasure and he reached up, holding each of them by the hair and guiding her mouth over his hard cock meat. Slowly he lifted Cindy's mouth until she sank it onto the cock head and tan her teeth over the tip, getting a yell and thrust from him, while he held Monique on the cockshaft, letting her lick the veined underside. He kept them at it for minutes, exchanging one mouth sucking him for the other until he felt the cum surging around in his balls.

Quickly he slid first Cindy and then Monique deep onto his cock, holding their hair, forcing the one and then the other until the cum burst from his piss slit and out over their lips. Still holding them, he moved their mouths over the spouting geyser, watching his cum shooting partly in their mouths and partly over their cheeks and noses. He moaned in long drawn out satisfaction as they took it all. Then he watched as they cleaned each other's face, licking up cum until they collapsed in a heap across his strong body.

The three of them lay contentedly until Monique got up to get them all a nightcap.

On their way to the cabin, Sally asked John about Cindy and flank.

"I don't know," he said shortly.

Sally had put him through nearly an hour of titillation before they set off, asking him which of her many scanty underclothes and nighties she should take. He knew he was heading for another frustrating few days, but still he labored the hope that, out in the country, and in a strange place, she might come across and let him fuck her.

"They're friends of Sylvia's and Pat's," John said after a while. "I don't know anything about them."

"Oh," said Sally crossing her long, shapely legs and driving him crazy all over again. She gazed out of the window. The cabin was isolated all right, she thought. They had been on the gravel road for nearly an hour and were still climbing along the riverside into the hills. She had only come on this weekend because Sylvia had personally phoned and asked her. It wasn't really her style, this pastoral, return-to-nature stuff. The very thought made her furious. She stared away from John as he steered more and more carefully along the winding road.

The cabin was at least six miles from its nearest neighbor, and Sally had another burst of irritation as they pulled up. She was barely civil to Hank and Cindy as she was introduced, and she asked to be shown to her room immediately.

The rest of them seemed to take very little notice. They all took John into the main room, with the full-length windows overlooking the valley. He sat down in a soft seat and a young girl in a tiny maid's uniform came up to ask him if he wanted a drink. He nearly leaped out of the chair in shock.

"This is Monique, our maid," said Cindy. "Uh," John grunted, surveying the curvaceous figure of the young girl. The uniform barely covered a pair of small thrusting tits, and it stopped well short of her knees, and the slips under it flared it out until he had a view right up her legs almost to the top of her black, fishnet stockings. "I'll have bourbon. Rocks."

"Yes, sir," said Monique as she turned briskly away.

"She's a very good maid," said Cindy casually, leaning back on the window seat and showing John her thighs as she crossed her legs. "Did you find us easily?"

"Oh, yes," said John, and he thanked Monique for his drink.

"Ah," said Patrick, "here's the guest of honor." It was Sally, finally coming in, dressed in a long robe as if she were already ready for bed.

"Hello," she said ungraciously. "The rooms here certainly are small, aren't they?"

"Oh, not all of them," said Sylvia with a grin at Patrick.

"It's cold up here," Sally said. "Couldn't we have a fire or something."

"Certainly my dear," said Hank, rising to his feet. "A fire you shall have, not to mention the something."

The remark was lost on Sally who merely stared at him and gave a curt nod. John was not only angry but now thoroughly embarrassed. This sort of behavior on Sally's part had already lost them a great many of their friends, and now she was about to lose them more. They certainly wouldn't be asked back, even if they weren't asked to leave. He took a large drink of the whiskey and glowered at his wife, but she just looked past him and ignored everything going on around her.

Hank and Monique were making the fire.

John heard Hank say to Monique: "Oh no my dear, we need you for later, let me do this," and Monique giggled and got back to her feet and went off to the kitchen.

The remark had seemed very strange to John, and he didn't get the significance of it at all. Sally didn't even acknowledge that it had all been done for her. She just pulled her robe around her more tightly as the flames started to flare up the chimney.

Dinner would have been fun, had it not been for Sally ignoring everybody so rudely. She hardly noticed the rise in expectation in the room as the coffee was saved. She didn't drink much of hers, afraid it might keep her awake. But even the few sips she took made her drowsy and her head began to sag as she yawned and blinked her eyes.

"I really must go to bed," were her last words as she slumped forward on the table.