As the gothic-style music of Enigma drifted in to us from the candle-lit area of the master bedroom, I stared down at my lovely wife and watched as she performed the act of fellatio on me. We were in the semi-darkness of the walk-in closet, and Gerry was on her knees in front of me, sucking my penis, causing it to quickly grow in length and to expand in thickness.

This was something I hadn’t expected.

Ever since my wife had made me sign the “slave” contract over three months ago in which I agreed to give up all my rights as a husband and to submit to her as a full-time slave, I’d been regulated to just one orgasm a month. She no longer permitted me to have sexual intercourse with her, nor was I allowed to masturbate without her explicit permission. Gerry now controlled my orgasms with an iron fist, believing—as most dominant women do—that true obedience could only be achieved when a man’s cock and balls were totally enslaved by his Mistress.

I was therefore surprised by this turn of events.

Her head continued to move up and down in a steady rhythm as her lips brought me swiftly to the point of no return. It had been four very long weeks since my last orgasm, and I could feel a climax of epic proportions getting ready to erupt. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that Gerry was actually going to allow me to ejaculate, especially in her mouth. I knew my wife better than that. Something else was up, and it probably wouldn’t be pleasant. Since this was our first time at playing a “breath” game, she’d want me to be right on the edge for tonight’s festivities.

When my cock started to pulsate with the impending orgasm, my wife suddenly stopped her oral manipulations and began to tie a long, narrow black leather cord around my testicles. She swiftly wrapped the cord thrice around the top of my sac and then crisscrossed the thong two times over and under each of my testicles so that they were separated like ripe purple plums on the verge of bursting. The coup de grace occurred a few seconds later when she repeatedly wound the rest of the cord tightly around the base of my erection and then tied the two ends off into a perfect bow. This effectively cut off the flow of blood to my groin, and it wouldn’t take long for the immediate pain to deepen into something far more exquisite.

I hissed softly to myself at the tightness of the cord.

My genitals were already throbbing from the discomfort.

Gerry picked up the ball gag and handcuffs that were lying on the floor next to the foot stool I was standing on and then rose to her feet so that she could get a better view of her finished work. Pursing her lips as if deep in thought, she took a step backwards and smiled mischievously up at me.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“A little,” I said.

“Just a little?”

“Ask me again in an hour.”

“Why an hour?”

“Because my cock and balls will probably be a dark shade of blue by then, and the pain will be excruciating.”

“I don’t want to wait an hour, Chris.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Gerry stepped forward, grabbed my testicles with her leather-gloved hand, and squeezed them till my eyes began to water. A meandering path of tears began to run down the sides of my face, and a deep, low moan of agony escaped from between my lips.

I didn’t scream out.

To experience sexual pain was all I craved for, and my wife knew this. One of her goals in life was not only to assist in turning my dark fantasies into reality, but also to fulfill my twisted need to feel true pain at the hands of a dominant woman. She and I thrived on the adrenaline rush of risk and danger, and sought ways to continuously push the envelope. Gerry told me after we were married that destiny had brought her into my life so that she could inflict pain and suffering upon me.

I believed her.

“How does it feel now?” she asked. “Is the pain more intense?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Yes?”

“Yes, it hurts, Mistress.”

“But does it hurt enough?”

“No, Mistress!”

“That’s what I need to know, darling.”

Gerry continued to squeeze my balls with her right hand as she stared up into my eyes.

“I can take more,” I said.

“I hope so.”

My wife loved it when I suffered for her. It made her pussy wet and filled her with an intense sexual heat that knew no limitations. Nothing was taboo. She was capable of doing anything. The more danger and humiliation involved, the more explosive her orgasms were.

Placing her soft, red lips to my left nipple, Gerry kissed and sucked on it till the small protuberance became hard. I then felt her sharp teeth biting down into it, drawing blood, and causing me to shiver uncontrollably. She let go of my aching balls and wrapped her gloved fingers around my stiff cock, stroking it back and forth with a maddening ferocity, silently daring me to cum without her permission.

I knew what she was up to.

One of the ironclad rules in our household is that for me to ejaculate without my wife’s permission results in the worse possible punishment.

No exceptions to the rule.

If I shot off in her hand without permission, I’d have to endure the harshest of whippings, or the most severe form of toilet training. This was something I knew from personal experience, and it was a mistake I never wanted to repeat. I loved my wife, but I was also scared of her. I understood the sadistic side of her personality and knew precisely what she was capable of doing when provoked.

“Would you like to cum?” she asked teasingly.

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you think you’ve earned the right to have an orgasm?”

“No, Mistress.”

“We’ll see how you do tonight. Maybe I’ll reward you afterwards.”

Gerry released my penis in the nick of time. I wouldn’t have lasted another ten seconds before finally exploding into her gloved hand. She stared down at her palm with obvious distaste and a big frown crept across her face. “Look at what you did to my expensive glove,” she said, holding her hand up for me to see. “It’s disgusting.”

I lowered my gaze to the palm of her hand and saw the glistening of pre-semen fluid on the black leather.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“Then whose fault is it?” she asked.

“Uh—“

“Are you saying it’s my fault you can’t control your dirty thoughts?”

“No, Mistress.”

“I’ll have to punish you for this horrible act,” she said, placing the palm of her hand against my lips. “Now, lick the cum off my glove.”

I quickly began to lick the sticky fluid from off her leather glove. It was fun. I loved the smell of leather, and I was already used to the taste of my own semen. Whenever Gerry allowed me to have an orgasm, I was always required to clean up the mess with my tongue. It didn’t matter if I ejaculated on the kitchen floor, on my wife’s leg, in her hand, on a pair of her dirty pantyhose, or on her black leather boots. Once the climax was completed, I had to lick up the semen, or risk being denied an orgasm for a much longer period of time.

“That’s good enough,” she said, removing her hand from my mouth. “Your punishment isn’t over. In a few minutes, I’m going to take a wooden ruler to your cock. I think it needs a good beating, don’t you?”

I couldn’t help but smile with anticipation.

“Step off the stool,” she ordered.

It was now time for the serious stuff to begin.

I watched my wife take a couple of steps back to give me some extra room. She stood there at the entrance to the closet, high-lighted by the flickering candles in the bedroom, dressed only in black sheer thigh-top stockings and black stiletto-heeled shoes. Her brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun, giving her beautiful face a more severe appearance. Gerry had also applied a light amount of make-up to her dark, penetrating eyes and on her cheekbones, accenting her aristocratic features, and making herself look even more like a true Goddess.

She waited patiently for me to take the dreadful plunge.

“Give me a moment,” I said.

Gerry didn’t say anything.

I looked into her eyes and saw a love so strong that it literally took my breath away. It definitely made my heart beat faster. I suddenly wanted to please her more than anything, and the power of that sensation truly frightened me. There was no turning back with what I was getting ready to do. I could see the soft love in her eyes gradually change to a simmering heat, and I knew that she was excited about the game we were about to play.

“Do it,” she said.

I swallowed hard and then reached up with both hands to grab the length of rope that was hooked to the eyebolt in the ceiling. The bottom half of the rope was twisted into a hangman’s noose, and it was tight around my neck. Holding onto the rope, I stepped carefully off the stool and lowered myself to the floor. The rope became taut just as the balls of my feet touched the soft shag carpet underneath me.

There wasn’t much leeway for error.

Whether or not I survived the night would depend solely on my ability to stand on the balls of my feet for a rather lengthy period of time. I instinctively knew that the duration of my torture would be determined by how long it took my wife and her new lover to fuck. I expected them go for at least an hour. Maybe two. Both Gerry and Tony would be extremely excited by my predicament, and I could probably anticipate them fucking three-to-four times before exhaustion finally set in.

“Turn around,” she said, “and place your hands behind your back.”

I obeyed my Mistress.

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know.”

“It’s all about trust, Chris.”

I felt her handcuff my wrists together. She then placed the rubber ball into my mouth and fastened its leather strap tightly behind my head. I was now completely at my wife’s mercy. She held my life in her hands. I was scared; yet, I was also sexually aroused by the endless possibilities of tonight’s game.

Gerry pressed up against me, flesh to flesh, kissing the back of my bare shoulder and then the side of my neck. I felt her hot breath in my ear. Her leather-gloved hands snaked around to the front of my naked body, teasing me with their delicate touch. One hand suddenly grabbed my cock in a vise-like grip, jerking it upward, while the other hand took hold of my right nipple and twisted it viciously. I was so aroused by what was happening that the urge to cum was overwhelming.

“Are you scared?” she asked.

I nodded.

My wife bit me on the right ear and laughed. “Maybe I’ll let you strangle to death while Tony fucks me,” she said. “Does the thought of that excite you?”

I nodded again.

“I can just picture Tony’s large cock pounding into me as you hang here, unable to stand on the balls of your feet any longer, slowly dying from strangulation,” Gerry said in a near whisper. I could suddenly feel her pelvic bone grinding hungrily into my buttocks as if she were trying to fuck me from behind. “Maybe I’ll cum at the precise moment you die.”

Have I mentioned how wicked my wife is?

She wanted me to imagine her scenario so that I could see it in my mind. She was trying to get me aroused at the thought of Tony being between her legs, driving his cock repeatedly into her as the sounds of my struggling death carried them to a higher level of sexual bliss. It was a bizarre, perverted image, but it also made my own erection that much harder. I remembered the movie, The Postman Always Rings Twice, with Jack Nicholson and Jessica Lange and how they fucked that night on the hill after murdering her husband.

Gerry and I were made for each other! If there was such a thing as soul mates, then that was us in a nutshell. We were two very sick puppies who’d recognized a kindred spirit in the face of the other

She released her hold upon me, picked up the stool, and carried it out into the master bedroom. While she was gone, I turned around so that I was facing the entrance to the closet. I don’t know how long my wife was gone but it seemed like forever. I could already feel the strain on my ankles and calves, and wondered if I’d be able to last an hour of this sadistic torture.

When Gerry finally returned, she was carrying a twelve-inch wooden ruler in her right hand. There was a smirk on her face that told me I was in for a lot of pain. Moving to my side, she struck me hard across the leg with the ruler, then commanded me to spread my feet further apart. I did as ordered and felt myself wobbling precariously on my toes.

“It’s time for the rest of your punishment,” she said, hitting the head of my penis with the bottom side of the ruler. A loud smacking sound filled the closet, followed by a moan of pain that was also mixed with a high degree of pleasure. The blow from the ruler stung, and I attempted to pull away when she hit me a second time. My futile efforts to escape the punishment made her laugh. “I’m going to beat your cock till Tony arrives. You’d better pray he gets here early.”

I have no idea how many times Gerry struck me with the ruler. I stopped counting after thirty-seven. I do know that the blows became faster and progressively harder as the count increased.

Still, I never lost the erection.

The tight leather cord around my groin and the lost of circulation may have had something to do with that. Whatever the reason, my cock jutted outward, eagerly awaiting each blow from the ruler. The pain seemed to stimulate me. If Tony hadn’t rung the doorbell when he did, I think I would’ve shot my load of cum on the carpeted floor within a matter of minutes.

“Saved by the bell,” she said. Her face was clearly flushed with excitement. “Would you like me to leave the closet door open?”

I nodded.

“You want to hear us fuck, don’t you, darling?”

I nodded my head again.

Gerry kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll make sure there’s plenty of noise, “ she said. “I don’t want you to be bored.” She then removed a silk robe from one of the hangers, put it on, and tied the loose belt around her waist. My wife kissed me one last time and then walked out of the closet to go answer the front door.

I listened to the sound of Gerry and her boyfriend talking as they came down the short hallway that was just off the foyer and entered the master bedroom.

“You look so beautiful and sexy tonight,” Tony said to her.

“Yes, I do,” she agreed.

“Just looking at you makes my cock hard.”

“So I see.”

“Where’s your husband?”

“In the bedroom closet,” she said.

“In the closet?”

“Yes, would you like to see him?”

“What’s he doing in the closet?” Tony asked.

“We’re playing a new game tonight.”

“Should I even ask about it?”

She laughed.

They walked around to the entrance of the closet and stopped. I could see Tony standing in front of my wife as he tried to see more clearly into the darkness of the small enclosure.

“Is that a rope around your husband’s neck?” he asked.

“What do you think?” Gerry said.

I watched Tony take several hesitant steps toward me and then stop again as his eyes adjusted to the darken space. A surprised expression suddenly appeared on his face. His eyes focused on the rope around my neck, and then followed it up to the heavy metal eyebolt in the ceiling.

“Damn!” he muttered, turning his head around to look back at my wife. “Are you both crazy or something?”

“Absolutely,” Gerry said.

“What happens if he dies while we’re fucking?”

“The police will arrest us.”

“We’ll be accused of murder, won’t we?”

“Probably,” she said. “It makes my pussy wet just thinking about it.”

“Shit!” Tony said.

My wife stepped into the closet and leaned back against the doorjamb. Untying the silk belt from around her slim waist, she slowly pulled back the robe so that Tony could see her naked body.

“Come here,” she said.

Tony licked his lips with obvious desire, took two steps toward her, and reached out to push the robe off her shoulders. It slid down her arms and the backside of her body, dropping to the floor. Wrapping his arms around Gerry’s waist, he pressed his hard body up against hers and then kissed her fully on the mouth. She moaned as her lips parted to accept his roving tongue. His right hand casually found its way down to my wife’s left buttock and his fingers gently explored the mound of white flesh. Then, grabbing her ass in a firm grip, he pulled her more deeply into the contours of his body. Their pelvises began to grind against each other as the sexual energy grew steadily into a raging inferno of lust.

I could feel my own erection straining forward as I watched my wife in the arms of another man. The unexpected rush of jealousy filled my mind, but it was no match for the sexual heat that overwhelmed me like a tidal wave of raw emotions. I tried to fight the dark urges and desires that soared through my soul.

But it was no use.

I couldn’t turn my head away from the drama being played out before me. I wanted to watch what was happening as Tony pulled his lips away from my wife’s hungry mouth and they made their way over to the side of her soft face. He passionately kissed her cheek, her closed eyes, her ear, and then his lips slid down to the side of her neck and her bare shoulder. Tony’s right arm came up, and he cupped her full, left breast in the palm of his hand, stroking the hard nipple with the tips of his fingers.

“Fuck me,” she said.

“On the bed?”

“No,” Gerry said, shaking her head. “Right here on the floor in front of my husband. I want him to see what it’s like when I’m fucked by a real man.”

“You’re so bad,” he said.

“I know.”

Gerry backed out of the closet and then lay down on the carpeted floor in front of the door. Tony followed her without hesitation. He got down on his knees and moved between her stocking-covered legs. Swiftly unbuckling his pants in what appeared to be a frenzy of activity, he yanked them and his boxer shorts down to his knees. His back was toward me so I couldn’t see the size of his appendage. My wife had told me the week before that it was very impressive in both length and width. As he lowered his body down to hers, she reached out with her hand and took hold of his cock, guiding the head of it to the entrance of her vagina.

“That’s it,” she said. “Push it in.”

He quickly shoved his cock into Gerry and caused her to groan loudly from the pleasure of his forceful entry. She brought her legs back so that he could penetrate her even more deeply, then wrapped them around his lower back to keep him in place as his body began to urgently move back and forth. My eyes followed the rise and fall of his buttocks, knowing that on each downward motion Tony was thrusting his cock into my wife, filling her pussy as completely as possible, satisfying her in ways I was no longer allowed to do.

“Yes!” she cried out.

Tony raised the upper half of his body with his arms and then stared down into her eyes.

“I want you,” he said. “I need you.”

The speed of his rising buttocks increased as he drove his cock harder into Gerry. He lowered his head and kissed her on the lips, playfully biting the top one. She then placed her arms around his shoulders and pulled his body all the way down to hers. They kissed and moaned and fucked as if there were no tomorrow. I saw my wife look at me from over his shoulder. Her eyes were filled with passion, and I knew that she was close to having an orgasm. She gave me a knowing smile of satisfaction that tore into my heart and ripped it open.

“Cum inside me,” she said to him.

That was all he needed to hear.

Arching his back like a dancing cobra, he drove his penis repeatedly into her wetness, groaning with what sounded like pure agony as he eventually ejaculated his seed into the dark corridors of her womb. His release triggered Gerry’s own orgasm. She gripped him tightly with her arms and legs, meeting his final thrusts with an urgent desperation, crying out from the ripples of pleasure that began to flood through her body like the dark clouds of an approaching. Minutes passed with nothing but the sound of heavy breathing.

Then—

“God, that was good!” Tony said. “I feel like every drop of cum has been sucked out of me.”

“I’ll do that later,” my wife said.

“I bet you will, too.”

“My husband certainly got a good show.”

“Is he still alive?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a relief,” he said. “I don’t feel like spending the rest of my life in prison just because I fucked some guy’s kinky wife.”

“You’re so romantic, Tony.”

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Well, you know where it’s located.”

Tony got off of Gerry and slowly rose to his feet. Reaching down, he pulled up his pants and boxer shorts, then walked out of sight. My wife continued to lie there on the floor, staring up at me with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. Her legs were spread slightly apart, and I could see a small stream of semen oozing out her onto the shag carpet.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Good.”

Getting to her feet, Gerry stepped over to the closet and smiled at me. “I think you’ve seen more than enough for one night,” she said. Then, waving at me, she closed the door, laughing at the expression on my face.

And I was engulfed in total darkness. he passing minutes seemed like hours as I hung there in the darkness of the closet, alone with just my thoughts to keep me company. I could barely make out the different shapes of the clothes hanging on either side of me. The lingering scent of my wife’s perfume filled the enclosed room, luring me with its secret promises and making me long for her in ways I could only dream about. The sound of distant voices speaking softly to each other in the outer bedroom drifted in to me like gentle waves rolling onto a sandy beach, but I was unable to make out a single word of what was being said. It reminded me of two lovers whispering tenderly to each other, expressing feelings of joy, passion, and heartfelt lust. I suspected that my wife and her new lover, Tony, were lying on the king-size bed with their arms wrapped around each other as they contemplated the possibilities of having another bout of earth-shattering sex. Tony would now be ready to fuck again, and the next act of consummation would last somewhat longer than the previous one. He’d clearly been in too much heat during their first go-around. This time he would want to prolong the sexual tension, gradually carrying my wife to new heights of sexual arousal and excitement, fucking her slow and easy, penetrating deeply into her moist cunt with each forward thrust of his long, hard cock, until she eventually cried out for release.

And she would.

Tony’s the type of alpha male who likes to refer to himself as a sexual bull. When the ladies see him they fantasize about being fucked with his big cock, knowing that it will be the sex of a lifetime and that it will fulfill a hidden yearning they have to be taken by a strong, dominant male who can’t be tamed or possessed by them. For the most part Tony only has sex with married women. He loves to fuck other men’s wives (preferably while the spouse is forced to watch), satisfying them in ways that the husbands can’t. It continuously feeds his tremendous ego when the women become addicted to his sex organ and begin to hunger for it every moment of the day, not to mention in their heated dreams at night.

Though Gerry wasn’t quite to the addictive stage yet, she still enjoyed the intense humiliation I experienced whenever Tony came over to have sex with her. I knew she had infinitely more orgasms with him than she’d ever had with me. It was certainly evident in her loud moans of passion as he fucked her not once or twice, but several times during the course of an evening. Just the act of Tony entering her with his thick, heavy penis made my wife nearly cum with excitement. As for me, being cuckolded was certainly the ultimate test. It was one of the very few formats in which a dominant wife could gage the power she held over her spouse. What better way for a husband to prove his devotion than by permitting his wife to take as many lovers as she desired, while he was forced to remain faithful?

Though Gerry had known about the kinky side of my personality to a certain degree before we got married, it wasn’t until four weeks ago that she began to realize how strongly I desired to be dominated by a female. This surprising piece of knowledge came to her quite by accident when she discovered my hidden stash of erotica in the closet of my writing office. The box she pulled down from the back shelve by mistake—or maybe out of curiosity—was filled with over thirty glossy magazines, all of which centered on the theme of female domination. More than two-thirds of the magazines had a short story written by me in them with my actual name plastered across the front cover. I think that was the true tip-off regarding my sexual inclination. Along with the magazines was a well-worn paperback edition of Excess of Love by Jac Lenders, which had been published back in the late seventies. This erotic classic had been my first exposure to the concept of husbands being cruelly dominated and cuckolded by their sadistic wives, and to say that it had a profound affect upon my life would certainly be an understatement. I knew after reading Excess of Love for the first time that I wanted a marriage similar to one described within its pages.

Unbeknownst to me, Gerry read all of the magazines over the next few days, paying special attention to ones that had my fiction in them. When my wife flew to Los Angeles for a business meeting on the weekend following her discovery, she took Excess of Love with her so that she could read it on the airplane. As I was to later find out, the magazines and novel had the same “eye-opening” affect on her that I’d experienced, and the entire structure of our marriage would change dramatically when she returned home on Sunday night.

Remember, I was unaware of what was happening.

When I picked her up at the airport on Sunday evening, I wasn’t prepared for what was about to take place. She waited until we were on our way home—heading down Flamingo Avenue with the evening traffic—before nonchalantly taking the novel out of her pocketbook and laying it on the seat between us. I think my mouth dropped open and my eyes bugged out in sheer disbelief.

Gerry didn’t waste any time in getting to the point. She explained the accidental discovery of my erotica and how surprised she’d been at my interest in such a strange perversion. As I listened to the explanation, I kept waiting for her to ask me for a divorce. That’s what had happened in my previous two marriages. I was therefore dumbfounded when she admitted to masturbating while reading my fiction in the magazines, not to mention how sexually aroused she’d become on the airplane when reading Excess of Love.

I was speechless.

This had to be a dream!

My wife then asked me without the slightest bit of hesitation if I was ready to become a slave, or was it simply a fantasy I used when jerking-off? There was no beating around the bush with this lady. I was so surprised by the question that I nearly ran our car into the side of a passing vehicle. The other driver honked his horn, startling me even more.

Gerry laughed at the expression on my face.

I was still too rattled to answer her question. She told me to think carefully before saying anything, warning me that reality and fantasy were often two very different sides of the same coin. If I answered yes to her question, she’d expect everything we owned to be signed over to her and for me to submit totally to whatever she demanded. There would be no exceptions to the rule. I’d have to submit to severe whippings, humiliation of the worse kind, and to her taking other lovers whenever she desired. Once a commitment was made on my part, there would be no turning back to a vanilla relationship. I needed to give careful consideration to what I wanted out of the marriage and then decide if I was willing to pay the price to get it.

My mind was in a state of bewilderment by the time we pulled into the driveway of our home. I was confused, tongue-tied, and afraid to reach out for what I’d wanted for most of my adult life. We climbed silently out of the car, and I carried my wife’s luggage and garment bag into the master bedroom of the house with her following close behind. I sat everything down on the bed. When I turned around to ask her if she wanted me to cook something, she slapped me solidly across the face and ordered me to get down on my hands and knees like a dog.

I rubbed the side of my face and stared back at her in shock.

As I started to say something, her hand swung through the air a second time, and she hit me so hard that I literally saw stars. I heard her voice repeat the command, telling me once again to get down on my hands and knees. This time I obeyed her without question. I got down on the floor, lowered my head in submission, and waited for the next stage of the ritual to be played out. She then moved her right foot forward and demanded that I honor her. I knew what was required of me. Lowering my face to her stiletto-heeled shoe, I reverently kissed the toe of it as she asked me once more if I wanted to be her slave.

Yes, I told her.

She asked me if I understood the ramifications that would be involved in living a 24/7 lifestyle based on female domination.

I nodded my head.

Gerry instructed me to get undressed while she unpacked. As I removed my clothes, I watched her open the top of the suitcase and take out three wrapped packages. One was nearly twenty inches in length, while the other two were only a few inches in diameter. When I was finally naked, I picked up my clothes and shoes and carried them over to the loveseat that faced the small entertainment center in the corner of the room. I then returned to where Gerry was standing and got back down on my knees. She nodded in satisfaction and then handed me the long package to open.

I carefully unwrapped the paper from around the box as if it were a bomb. I didn’t know what to expect. My wife seldom bought me presents and though I was curious as to what was inside the box, I was also fearful. I suspected that it was an instrument for inflicting pain.

I was right.

When I opened the box, I saw an exquisitely made Spencer paddle, which is the crème de la crème of paddles in the world of corporal punishment. Designed from the finest mahogany, seventeen inches in length, three-quarters-of-an-inch in thickness, four inches at its widest with several precise holes drilled into the wood to increase the velocity of each stroke, I knew that I’d soon learn the true meaning of pain.

Taking the Spencer paddle from out of my hands, Gerry commanded me to bend over with my ass sticking high in the air and the side of my face pressed into the thick shag carpet. I was then told to place my hands behind my back and not to move from that position no matter how terrible the pain. This was to be a test of the utmost importance. She wanted to see if I was sincere in my desire to be a slave. Since I’d never been beaten before, there was no way I could prepare myself for what was to happen.

As I knelt there on the floor, my wife walked around me, tapping the paddle against the palm of her other hand. She began to go over the new rules of the house, starting with the fact that she wanted everything we owned signed over into her name. The reasoning behind her decision was that in order to control me, she had to have me financially at her mercy. I had to be placed in a situation where I couldn’t change my mind at the drop of a hat about wanting, or not wanting to be a slave. Of course, I was always free to ask for a divorce if I found myself unable to continue living the lifestyle of Mistress and slave. To do so, however, would ensure that I left with nothing but the clothes on my back.

She suddenly stopped talking, and I heard a strange whistling noise cutting through the air above and behind me. A moment later the paddle landed against my buttocks with a loud smacking sound. I gritted my teeth at the unbelievable pain that flooded my body like a tidal wave of pure agony.

The first blow had been too hard.

My wife needed to begin slowly with the beating, gradually building up to the harder strokes and giving me time to adjust to each new level of pain. I was on the verge of mentioning this to her when she hit me a second time. A cry of anguish escaped from between my lips.

The paddle quickly landed a third and a fourth and a fifth time.

Gerry then took a few moments to explain what would be expected of me around the house. I would be responsible for all of the household chores: the cooking, the laundry, cleaning the house, washing and waxing the cars, mowing the lawn, pulling the weeds in the backyard garden, doing the grocery shopping, taking the clothes to the dry cleaners, making sure that our three cats always had plenty of food and water, cleaning the kitty box on a daily basis, and a dozen other necessities that would leave my wife more time to relax and enjoy life. She also expected me to prepare her bath every night when she was home, to assist in bathing her, to pamper her with nightly body and foot massages, and to sexually service her in whatever manner she might desire. Though I heard everything that was being said, all I could think about was how hard she’d been hitting me. When I finally worked up the nerve to mention this to her, the audacity of my comment pissed her off and she started waling into me with the paddle. She hit me ten more times in quick succession, each stroke of the paddle being hard and fast. I was crying by the time she managed to get control of her anger.

My wife told me to never question her again about anything!

I watched as she walked over the bed and reached into the suitcase. She pulled out a balled-up pair of black-laced panties that she’d worn over the weekend. Stepping back over to me, Gerry knelt down and ordered me to open my mouth nice and wide. When I did, she stuffed the silky piece of lingerie into it.

I could smell the arousing scent of her perfume on them.

Then, standing back up, she began to paddle my ass in earnest. The loud smacking sounds of wood against flesh were sharp and distinctive within the confines of the bedroom. Each strike of the paddle caused my body to shudder and then to tighten up as I groaned in agony. I’d never feared my wife until this very moment. I now knew what she was capable of doing and it excited me. Though I didn’t become erect during the paddling, I was filled with an intense sexual energy.

I wanted the beating to stop; yet, I also wanted it to continue.

Talk about being fucked up!

My wife hit me twenty more times before deciding that her point had been made. By then I was whimpering like some forlorn child lost in the wilderness of indecision. I knew my bottom was raw and blistered, and that I wouldn’t be sitting down for the next couple of days. I could also hear her breathing heavily. She’d gotten off on the beating, enjoying the ecstatic sense of power at having another person under her control.

A minute passed in silence and then my wife calmly told me to take the panties out of my mouth and to get back up into a kneeling position. As I slowly rose to my knees, she informed me that the pain I’d experienced was only the tip of the iceberg. My training to become the perfect slave would be an ongoing process—one that she intended to take quite seriously. In fact, Gerry intended to buy a riding crop, a cat-of-nine-tails, and a short horsewhip on her next visit to Los Angeles. She’d found the ideal S&M store in West Hollywood to meet her specific needs for leather clothing, bondage equipment, paraphernalia, and instruments of torture.

Laying the paddle down on the bed, Gerry picked up one of the other gifts and handed it to me. There was a gleam of mischief in her dark eyes. She told me that I was going to enjoy this particular present. I tore off the paper and opened the box with a great deal of trepidation, not knowing what to expect. What I discovered was a male chastity device known as the CB-2000. It was one of the most effective ways in controlling a man’s orgasm. Once the device was locked firmly in place around a male slave’s genitals, there was no way for him to achieve an erection, or an orgasm.

Masturbation would then be out of the question!

My wife smiled wickedly and then told me to put on the device so that she could see how it looked.

I knew what she was up to.

Once I had the CB-2000 on and locked in place, she’d take the key and hide it, thereby assuming absolute control over my sex life and my will to resist. I tried to think of some lame excuse for not obeying her command, but it was a useless expenditure of mental energy. This is what happens when one’s fantasy is turned into reality. You swiftly become faced with unappealing choices, especially if your desire is to submit to a strong, dominant female. Women have the uncanny ability to size a man up, marking his strengths and weaknesses, along with the things that are necessary to manipulate him into performing exactly as they desire.

It took me a few minutes to read the instructions and then figure out how to fit my genitals into CB-2000. I took the circular ban of hard clear plastic and forced my limp penis and testicles through the small round opening. Once that was done, I eased the short cage-like device that was made out of thin bars of plastic over my cock and up against the circular ban. I put the locking pins in place and then fastened the metal lock through the tiny openings on both the cage and circular ban. This effectively locked them to together so that the cage-like device couldn’t be pulled off.

Gerry immediately held out her right hand for the three keys that had been included with the CB-2000.

I let out a sigh of resignation and then gave them to her.

She laughed at the solemn expression on my face and said that I’d soon grow accustomed to having the chastity device around my cock. Wearing it would make me a better slave and certainly more attentive to her personal needs.

Handing me the third present, my wife stated that this one was more for her than it was for me. Her words made me wonder if there was a metal stud inside the box. She’d already threatened to have the tip of my tongue pierced so that I’d be better at performing oral sex. I tore at the small package and finally got it open. Inside of the box was an expensive gold anklet. Her first name was engraved on it in beautiful script. Gerry instructed me to place the exquisite piece of jewelry around her right ankle, adding that when a dominant wife wears an anklet, it means that she’s sexually available to other men.

The chastity device and the anklet said it all.

My sex drive would now be totally controlled by my wife, while she would have the complete freedom to fuck any man she wanted. I was not only to be a slave, but also a cuckolded husband as well.

Gerry then told me with a certain amount of glee that she’d had sex with one of her male co-workers over the weekend. Her new lover’s name was Stephen, and he’d been the one to suggest that she buy me a male chastity device when they’d visited the store in West Hollywood. Following that profound revelation, my wife took off her clothes so that I could perform oral sex on her while she went on into great detail about Stephen’s prowess as a lover.

When my wife flew black to Los Angeles on the following weekend, she and Stephen spent most of Friday and Saturday night and Sunday morning fucking like the world was coming to an end. The sex turned out to be even better on the second trip. Gerry told me that she’d never felt so liberated and that she intended to continue her affair with Stephen whenever they traveled out of town together. Also, while they were in Los Angeles, she managed to pay a visit to the S&M store. She purchased the three instruments of torture that had been mentioned earlier, plus a pair of steel handcuffs and a rubber ball gag. This would be more than enough to get her started with my training and the games she wanted to play.

It wasn’t, however, enough to scratch the itch she suddenly had for fucking other men. I think that was the real reason she’d decided to instigate female domination into our marriage. It gave her the perfect excuse to cheat on me without having to feel guilty, or worry that I might find out about the illicit affairs. When Gerry got back from Los Angeles, she immediately went online and began to search Love@aol for a lover who was different from Stephen. I didn’t know it, but she was looking for a sexual bull to help dominate me. She wanted to push the envelope to see how far she could take my submission.

Now, three weeks after signing a slave contract and transferring everything we owned over into my wife’s name, here I was hanging by my neck in the darkness of our bedroom closet, listening to the sounds of her being fucked by another man. Yes, it was agonizing, but it was also one of the hottest experiences I’d ever had in my life. I could hear Gerry grunting loudly and passionately, and I knew that Tony was fucking her with that special kind of magic he seemed to possess. This guy exuded testosterone in ways that reached out to the entire female species. Women were drawn to him like ducks to water. The sounds of him and Gerry having sex brought images to my mind. I could mentally see them on the bed, fucking like newlyweds. My wife would have her beautiful legs pulled back to the sides of her head so that Tony could enter her as deeply as possible, driving his cock repeatedly into the wet folds of flesh that gripped him so tenderly.

Trying to shift my mind from the activities in the bedroom, I turned carefully around and assessed my unusual situation.

It wasn’t good.

The fantasy of a breath game had seemed like such a great idea when I’d first read about it in two of Larry Brooks’ novels, Darkness Bound and Serpent’s Dance. The thought of it, especially with the element of danger involved, had created an inferno of raging heat inside of me. Even my wife had been excited by the idea. She was always interested in different ways to spice up our sex life, and this was an area that we’d never explored.

Unfortunately, the reality of being hanged left a lot to be desired. What I was experiencing had now reached the point where it was no longer fun. True, hearing the sounds of my wife and her lover fucking was a big turn-on, but the cramps in my legs were causing me too much pain. I was also having trouble breathing, and I was experiencing rope burn around my neck. I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to stand without strangling to death. I tried to lower my heels a little to ease the pressure on my ankles, but the rope wouldn’t allow me any lack. Even my jaw was starting to cramp from having the ball gag stuffed inside my mouth for nearly an hour.

If only my hands hadn’t been cuffed behind my back, but then there’d be no risk involved. Everything seemed to have a drawback of some kind. I continued to breathe slowly through my nose and to stand painfully on the balls of my feet, praying that I would survive this horrendous ordeal.

The minutes continued to pass.

I don’t know how long it was before I suddenly heard Tony grunting loudly with heavy excursion and realized that he was ejaculating inside my wife, filling her once again with his copious amounts of semen. Thank God she’d had her tubes tied. Tony had told her on their first date that he’d already impregnated two other married women and that each one had begged to have his child. I don’t know if the story was true, but I was relieved that I didn’t have to worry about raising another man’s baby at this stage of my life.

In time the sounds of Gerry and her lover talking to each other gradually drifted back into the closet. I was surprised that she hadn’t checked on me after Tony’s orgasm. I felt as if I was on the verge of passing out, and I knew if I allowed that to happen, I’d die within minutes. It was then that the closet door unexpectedly opened and my wife stepped into the light, staring at me with what appeared to be sincere interest. She still had on the black thigh-high stockings and stiletto-heeled shoes.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I mumbled something through the ball gag.

“Was that a yes or a no, darling?”

I shook my head wildly from side to side.

Gerry walked into the closet so that she could see me better. “Your legs are shaking,” she said. “Would you like me to let you down?”

I nodded.

She walked over to me and took hold of my hard cock, squeezing it until I groaned from the pain. I then felt her press up against me and kiss the sides of my face as if I was her lover, instead of a slave.

“Maybe I should let you hang here for the rest of the night,” she whispered into my ear. “Would you like that?”

I shook my head.

“The rope’s so tight,” Gerry said, running her fingers around the hangman’s noose. “It’s a wonder you can breathe at all. If I let you down, you’re going to have to submit to Tony. You know what that means, don’t you?”

I shook my head angrily and muttered incomprehensible sounds.

“You don’t have a choice in the matter,” she said, “unless you want to hang here in the closet all night.”

There it was.

The cat was out of the bag, and I understood why my wife had been so eager for us to play the breath game. She’d mentioned a few days ago that she was thinking about having me suck Tony’s cock for the fun of it. I had quickly killed that idea, letting her know that it was never going to happen.

Even a slave had to have his limitations.

Gerry hadn’t liked my remark, but rather than confronting me about it, she’d waited patiently for tonight so that she could teach me how the game was really played. Now, here I was in a position where I’d do anything not to strangle to death. My wife had won by simply allowing me to put the noose around my own neck like a stupid fool.

Letting go of my erection, she reached even lower and grabbed my swollen testicles, squeezing them as if they were a pair of ripe plums ready to burst. A muffled scream erupted from behind the ball gag and tears began to run down my cheeks.

“You will suck Tony’s cock for me, won’t you?”

I nodded my head.

“And you’ll swallow everything he gives you?”

Yes, I nodded.

“You’re such a good slave.”

Gerry unbuckled the strap and removed the ball gag from my mouth. I took several long breaths, trying not to think about the next stage of the game. I was caught off guard when my wife unexpectedly kissed me on the lips, her tongue probing and searching, delighting in my obvious desire for her. I was like a starved man who hasn’t eaten in two weeks. I desperately wanted her in all the ways a man truly desires a woman, knowing that it wouldn’t happen tonight. Another man would savor that pleasure. I had to be satisfied with her hand on my cock and her tongue in my mouth. The kiss lasted a minute—maybe longer. I could tell how excited she was at having won the game once again, proving to me that she was the one in control. Each time she succeeded in humiliating me, her body seemed to fill with this incredible energy and fucking was the only outlet for it. .

Pulling away from me, she got the footstool and sat it down on the floor in front of my feet. “I think it’s best if I leave the handcuffs on you,” Gerry said as she helped me step up onto the stool. “I don’t want you to have second thoughts once the noose is removed from around your neck.” She then stood up on her toes and loosened the rope enough to where I could slip my head from out of the noose.

I let out an apparent sigh of relief and stepped hesitantly down to the floor. My legs could barely support my weight. The cramps had taken their toll on me. I wanted to collapse right there and to sleep for a solid twenty-four hours. Instead, Gerry led me quietly out of the closet and into the bedroom where her lover was waiting. Tony was standing near the foot of the bed with a smirk on his handsome face as my wife led me out of the closet and into the candle-lit bedroom. She hadn’t removed the tight leather cord from around my swollen genitalia, and the pain was horrendous. With her hand around my engorged cock, she guided me to a spot on the carpet in front of her boyfriend. Gerry then bent down and pulled the end of the bow, loosening the cord. She slowly unwound it from around the base of my erection, and the blood began to swiftly flow back into the area of my groin. If I thought the pain had been bad before, it was now mind-numbing in its intensity. It felt like hundreds of pins and needles being repeatedly stuck into my tender flesh.

I couldn’t stop myself from crying out.

“You sound like a baby,” Gerry said, thumping one of my testicles with her forefinger and causing me to cry out again.

“It hurts,” I said.

“This is nothing,” she said. “Wait till I have you branded.”

“You’re going to have me branded?”

“Didn’t I tell you?”

“No,” I said.

“I must’ve forgotten,” Gerry said, tying off the piece of thin leather that was still wrapped tightly around my bulging testicles. She slipped the remaining length of cord between my legs and then reached behind me to grab it with her right hand. Standing back up, she moved to my rear and jerked playfully on the leather cord, causing me to double over in agony. “Did that hurt, darling?”

“Yes,” I moaned.

“Good,” she said. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Get down on your knees in front of Tony.”

Though it wasn’t easy to do with my hands still cuffed behind my back, I managed to get carefully down on both of my knees without falling face first into the carpet. My wife’s boyfriend moved closer to me so that his semi-erect penis was only inches from my mouth. I knew what was getting ready to happen, and I didn’t like it. I felt betrayed by my wife, sensing that she’d deliberately set me up for this particular humiliation, knowing the affect it would have on me. I mean, the thought of being made to suck Tony’s cock made me nauseous. The act certainly smacked of homosexuality, and it wasn’t the type of image I wanted to have of myself. I didn’t mind cleaning up his semen from between my wife’s legs, but for some strange reason the idea of performing oral sex on him was a turn-off.

Still, I didn’t see any way out of my predicament.

I’d wanted a marriage based on female domination and was now suffering the consequences of having my fantasy turned into reality. People should always be careful about what they wish for.

“Spread your knees further apart,” my wife ordered.

I immediately did as she commanded.

Gerry jerked hard on the cord that was between my legs, causing me to cry out in pain again. “Open your mouth nice and wide,” she said. I thought for a moment that she was going to rip my testicles off. The agony was unbelievable. “Keep your mouth open till I tell you otherwise.”

“Maybe I should stick something in your husband’s mouth so the neighbors won’t hear him scream like a woman,” Tony said.

“My thoughts exactly,” Gerry said.

Tony pressed up against me and ran the tip of his penis lightly over my lips, coating them with a thin stream of his pre-semen fluid. I could tell that he was excited by what was happening. My humiliation was turning him on in a big way. He was not only enjoying the thrill of fucking another man’s wife, but also the sense of power in having the cuckolded husband kneeling in front of him, ready to suck his cock on command. This alpha male intended to make sure that I knew my place in our sexual triangle. I was a slave and nothing more. My only purpose was to lick up his cum after my wife had been well fucked and to suck his cock whenever he desired a blowjob.

Gerry tugged harder on the leather cord as her boyfriend pushed the head of his thick cock into my mouth. I tried not to gag at the scent and taste of it. It was the worse humiliation of my life, and I didn’t know what to do except obey my Mistress. When she ordered me to suck his penis, I quickly began to move my head back and forth, applying suction as I felt his growing erection expand in width and length, until it completely filled my mouth. I suddenly felt the bile rising in the back of my throat and desperately fought to stop it in its tracks, not wanting to choke on Tony’s cock. It was touch and go for a few very precious seconds, and I thought for a moment that I was going to have to bite down on the piece of meat in my mouth so that I could throw up. That would’ve gone over beautifully with my wife and her lover. I would have gotten the beating of my life for doing something like that. Sucking cock as if my life depended on it—and in many ways it did—I swiftly brought Tony to point of orgasm. It had taken less than four minutes to get him there, and I knew he was ready to shoot his load. The real question, however, was whether or not I was ready to swallow a mouthful of cum from another man’s cock. I knew it would be different than licking up his semen from my wife’s body. His cock would explode in my mouth and his ejaculation would hit the back of my throat with such force that it would momentarily put me in a state of shock. There would be a tremendous amount of cum, and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to swallow it all without getting sick.

“Yes,” Tony moaned. “That’s it, bitch. Suck it!”

Why the hell is he calling me a bitch? I thought with a touch of anger.

“Fuck him in the mouth, Tony,” my wife said. She was literally getting off on what he was doing to me.

Tony took hold of the back of my head with both of his hands and held me in a tight grip as he fucked my opened mouth like a wet cunt. Driving his cock further and further down my throat, silently demanding that I take everything he was about to give to me, I felt him reaching the point of no return.

“Don’t stop, darling,” my wife said.

I wasn’t sure at first if she was talking to me or to her boyfriend.

“Do it!” she continued. “Go all the way. Prove to me that you’re my slave and swallow every drop of cum that Tony gives you.”

Though the sound was turned most of the way down, I could still hear the music of Enigma coming from the entertainment center in the far corner of the room. The chanting voices and haunting music in the background added a surreal quality to what was taking place, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d wake up and discover that this had all been a very bad dream. Gerry jerked on the cord around my balls with a quick snap of her wrist, jarring me back to the reality of what I was experiencing.

No, this was definitely not a dream.

Tony let out a loud groan of pure pleasure as he finally reached the moment of release and shot off into my mouth, spurting wave after wave of hot semen down my contracting throat. I felt as if I was swallowing a huge load of hot, salty oysters. The taste was terrible. I swallowed his cum with my eyes closed, willing myself not to throw up, wondering how I’d ever look at myself in the mirror again after what I’d done tonight. Any illusions I’d had about being in control of my marriage were now gone. I knew without a doubt that Gerry had complete control over me and that I’d do whatever she wanted, no matter how twisted or bizarre or humiliating. She was the Mistress of our home, and I was nothing but a slave destined to serve her and her male lovers in whatever way they demanded.

“Very good,” she said as her boyfriend released his hold on my head and pulled his still-hard cock out of my mouth. “I’m so proud of you. I now know how serious you are about serving me as a slave.”

I couldn’t say anything.

There was still a tablespoon of semen left in my mouth and though I wanted to spit it out onto the carpet, I forced myself to finish swallowing it, praying to myself that I’d never have to experience this form of humiliation again. Hopefully, my wife would be satisfied with what she’d accomplished tonight and would leave well enough alone.

“I think your husband enjoyed sucking my cock,” Tony said. “Since he didn’t spit out any of my cum, he must’ve loved the taste of it. He did such a great job that I might end of letting him give me a blowjob every week. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Gerry agreed.

Walking back into the closet, my wife got an extra blanket and pillow. When she came back out into the bedroom, she turned the music off, snuffed out all but one of the burning candles, and tossed the bedding down at the foot of her bed. Gerry then untied the rest of the cord from around my testicles and told me that I could sleep in the master bedroom tonight at the foot of her bed as a reward. She left the handcuffs on and then helped me to lie down on the carpet, placing the pillow under my head and the blanket over me so that I was halfway comfortable. When I was settled in at the foot of the bed, she and Tony climbed back under the sheets and talked for an hour or so.

I gradually drifted off the sleep to sound of them making love again, not knowing what the future held for me, but hoping that I wouldn’t live to regret my decision in becoming Gerry’s slave. I’d wanted it for so long that it would be a horrible shame if the fantasy turned out to be more than I could handle.