It was many months since Rob had taken his wife Yvonne to their friend Tony, for those horrible sadism sessions previously described.
Now, as he knelt astride her head and fucked her mouth, he began to tell her of his latest plans which involved a guy he'd met on the Internet.
Yvonne, gagging and choking as her husband forced his large, lusting cock right to the back of her mouth, couldn't speak. She shuddered at the thought of the appalling treatment that she'd suffered on those earlier occasions with Tony, and yet, at the same time, she felt a thrill of perverted sexual lust tingle through her body as her husband talked of loaning her to this new man.
It all sounded so perversely immoral and wrong for her husband to arrange such a thing. So wrong for him to let another man fuck and abuse her. So wrong that her husband, who she knew loved her dearly, should give her to another man for the purpose of her being hurt and tortured.
In spite of all of these thoughts, Yvonne became more and more excited as her husband fucked and used her while telling her what this new guy, Peter, might do to her.
Soon, her lust having overtaken her common sense, Yvonne was enthusiastically agreeing to everything that her husband suggested.
Rob had been so completely confident in his wife's taste for this sort of kinky perversion, that he had arranged for Peter to be waiting on the Internet ready and waiting to snare Yvonne into their scheme. Yvonne was informed of this, and she excitedly sat down at the desk and, using her own private email address, she typed the brief message that her husband dictated to her.
Having sent off the message, her husband made Yvonne stand, leaning over the desk with legs parted, while he fucked her doggie style.
With her forearms on the desk and her small breasts squashing against the desktop, Yvonne lifted her head to re-read the lines she had typed to this unknown man who wanted to abuse her. She was staring at the screen, rocking her body back and forth onto her husband's cock as he fucked her. Her feelings becoming more and more lustful, partially from the wonderful sensations of her husband's cock deep within her body, and partially from this new perverted scheme that her husband had proposed.
She was still staring at the computer screen and lustfully fucking, when the computer gave a 'ding', indicating an email received.
She excitedly saw that it was from Peter, and her lust stepped up a level when she read the title of the email... "You little whore."
Yvonne took the mouse and manipulated it as Rob continued fucking her from behind. She gasped and then giggled as she read the content. Peter had addressed her as a 'whore' and a 'stupid fucking cunt'.
Most other women would be turned off by such an initial approach, but, knowing his wife's sexually perverted nature, Rob had instructed Peter how to write.
Yvonne, exactly as her husband had told Peter, was in fact excited and led on by being treated in that way.
Loving husband and wife, still fucking, both leaned forward to read Peter's words of how he would like to give Yvonne a session with a variety of whips, riding crops, canes, etc, before giving her the ultimate thrashing with an old, heavy belt, an inch and a half wide with brass studs dotted along it's length.
He went on to describe how he would thrash her, leaving her body bruised, marked, and swollen.
Peter had argued with Rob about taking such a direct approach. Peter was sure that Yvonne would surely be scared off by such descriptions of how she might be used, but Rob had assured him that it was the right way to go.
It certainly was a fact that Yvonne would be scared. Rob knew that she would argue and make a show of resistance, but he knew that it would be just that - only a show.
To family and friends, Yvonne was a sweet wife and a mother. No one could ever suspect the truth. Her husband had found her out though - he knew just how sexually excited and out of control she could become under the right sort of stimulation.
As if to prove this point about her character, Yvonne now began to lamely argue that it wasn't right.
They were still looking at the email, re-reading it for the fourth or fifth time, when a 'ding' announced another email.
With trembling hands Yvonne opened the new email and read more of Peter's words which continued on in the same vein.
Once more she was called a 'stupid fucking cunt' and was told how he would like to hurt her really badly. He mentioned whipping her breasts and thrashing her body all over.
Again, even though disturbed at what she read, Yvonne felt her throat going dry and her body tingling lustfully at the thought of her husband giving her to this man to be used in such a way. She, with some pretence of being a normal, decent woman, protested to her husband that it was all too cruel and completely wrong.
Rob, being familiar with his wife's perverted sexual tastes, ignored her protests and excitedly told her to email back and to lead Peter on. He then grinned to himself in noticing that his wife didn't even so much as pause in clicking the reply button - "she gave up easily that time," he thought to himself with satisfaction.
"Hello my darling," Yvonne wrote to her husband's dictation. "Your message scares but excites me."
A few more sexy lines were added before Yvonne signed off with love and kisses.
They waited in excited anticipation, kissing, touching, licking, fucking until they thrilled to the computer's signal of a further email.
Peter had written of how Rob had told every detail about his wife. Peter talked more of how he would love to hurt her, and he finished by asking Yvonne directly... "you really do enjoy being hurt don't you?"
Again, trembling all over, Yvonne clicked the reply button.
"Darling," she started off, but then paused, unsure of what to type.
"Yes, I do like to be hurt," Rob suggested to her when he saw her pause.
Yvonne's fingers fumbled over the keys, typing those very words.
"Your whips and the studded leather belt sounds wonderfully cruel," Rob continued dictating.
Yvonne blindly followed and typed the words.
A couple more lines and she signed off with love and... "yours to use and abuse."
"Oh darling! I can't send something like that!' Yvonne then gasped in trembling tones as the computer cursor hovered above the 'send' button.
"You can. You love being a slut and a whore," her husband excitedly and lustfully urged.
Yvonne's hand trembled. Her husband urged her further. She clicked the mouse button. The computer screen changed ... Your message has been sent to...
Rob and Peter now swapped a series of short emails while Yvonne, crawling under the desk, pushed her husband's legs apart and took his solid, rock-hard, lusting cock in her soft hands and lowered her mouth over the head, sucking lovingly and slowly lowering her mouth right down over the pulsing shaft.
The content of the emails were read out to Yvonne as she crouched under the desk sucking and working on her husband's cum dribbling cock.
Yvonne was spoken of purely as a commodity to be used by Peter. He, in turn, continued expressing his desire to severely hurt her.
Rob, for his part, became more and more excited and gave his every encouragement and consent to everything that Peter suggested.
Yvonne's lust was surging through her body as she sucked and licked and loved her husband's cock, and as her own hand mauled, fingered, and rubbed frantically at her wet, slippery pussy.
It was soon agreed that Yvonne would be delivered to Peter the next afternoon and that she should be left with him, to be tortured and abused, until her husband returned to collect her.
The next sixteen hours of waiting saw Yvonne constantly oscillating between lustful enthusiasm, fear and terror, sluttish feelings, guilt and shame. As the time drew near however, she showered, dressed in her sexiest, most delicate underwear, took especial care with her makeup, and generally felt so sexually excited even through her moments of fear.
"Fuck!" her husband kept exclaiming, "this is going to be fucking fantastic! I'll be all of the time thinking about how Peter is using you."
As had been the case when she'd been taken for her previous S & M sessions, Yvonne began to think that it wasn't too late, she could still avert it if she wanted to. Even as they reached the house that had been given in the directions, she considered that she could still stop this from happening to her.
All of those thoughts of still being in control of her fate, and yet keeping on ahead, only served to stimulate Yvonne's bizarre sexual appetite even further, so that there was never ever any really serious thought of not going through with this terrible thing that was planned for her.
They stood on the pavement, gazing in at the house, each lost in their own thoughts. They were both a little frightened at the possibilities of what might happen, but they both lusted at the bizarre perversion of what they were doing.
"Ready," Rob asked his wife.
"Yes, ' she murmured in reply.
It was a quite ordinary looking house - brick and tile, nicely kept with a bushy garden, certainly nothing about it gave any hint of what terrible things might go on within it's walls. Did it hold dark secrets of torture chambers with cruel machines and devices. Yvonne was literally trembling as her husband led her to the front door. She was shaking and had to be helped up the steps.
A big man answered Rob's knock on the door - no one could ever suspect that he was such a cruel sadist.
Yvonne was blushing profusely, consumed by the shame and embarrassment of wantonly entering on this arrangement.
Peter was absolutely gloating over her. Looking at her lovely face, her small but very desirable body, her small but adequate tits bulging under her tight top. He must have, even at this late stage, not believed his luck as he again wanted confirmation from Rob that he was happy for his wife to be abused and hurt.
Yvonne felt totally belittled as she heard her husband assuring Peter that she could be used in any way he wanted.
They shook hands in a friendly manner and Rob jokingly said, "don't look after my wife while I'm gone."
Peter laughed in turn and replied that he certainly wouldn't, then added in a cruel voice while looking at her gloatingly, "I'm going to give her absolute fucking hell."
Yvonne watched in silence as her husband once again shook hands with Peter and then walked away, leaving her to be led inside the house.
Her husband had arranged it in this way, that he should simply hand his wife over to this guy and leave her with him. He loved his wife very much, and it seemed to him to treat her in this seemingly careless way, was the ultimate degradation.
Once in the house Yvonne's fears were temporarily allayed as Peter told her how pretty she was and as he began kissing her tenderly.
Yvonne in turn kissed back lovingly as Peter began to undress and fondle her body.
This show of tenderness lasted only briefly, and Yvonne's illusions were shattered when she was led into the bedroom and was told that she would be beaten insensible.
Yvonne noted that the bedroom, far from being a chamber of horrors, was neat and tastefully decorated - the only give away of what deviancy that might take place there, was the coiled cord, leather shackles, and leather whips that were piled on the end of the bed.
Yvonne climbed onto the bed, taking up the position that Peter directed, lying on her back with her legs spread apart and her arms stretched wide and above her head. She made no complaint nor offered any resistance as Peter securely bound her wrists and ankles and restrained her in this totally vulnerable position.
Peter then began to show her the many whips and lashes that he had in readiness for her - a long, thin, woven leather whip, a shorter, flat leather whip on a handle the shape of a cock which could be used as a dildo to fuck her with in between whippings. A short flogger consisting of twelve thin strips of leather attached to a handle. A fibre glass riding crop with a three inch fold of leather at the whip end, and indeed many other cruel and spiteful items with which to beat her with.
Now, as Peter selected a whip which was not dissimilar to the shape of a fly swatter, other than that it was larger and made of leather, Yvonne cringed and whimpered in fear as she watched him draw back his arm and take aim.
Swish, the whip sounded as it came speeding in a wide arc and thrashed across Yvonne's stomach.
"Argggg," she yelled as the vicious little whip filled her belly with a searing pain.
She had hardly recovered her breath when the whip again struck her, this time across the top of one thigh.
"Owwww!" she yelled and twisted and struggled as much as her bonds would allow, as the pain and shock raced through her body.
She was gasping and cringing as she watched Peter again preparing to strike her.
Whack! This time right across the top of her other thigh. Then another just above the knee.
Peter had put plenty of effort into each blow, and as his blows made their way back up Yvonne's body to her breasts she was panting and gasping, and shrieking in agony and terror as the vicious blows built up the pain in her body.
"Fuck! you sound fabulous," Peter grinned as he listened to Yvonne's shrieks which became more and more frantic and agonised.
"Oh my God! That's enough! That's enough!" Yvonne half gasped, half sobbed with tears in her eyes.
Peter laughed spitefully. "No way my girl," he said cruelly, "I'm really going to make a fucking mess of you before I'm through."
To demonstrate his point he next took up the long, thin, leather whip and taking aim, he continued flogging her naked body with rapid lashes.
Yvonne was screeching and howling in awful, agonising pain. Her eyes, with the tears now streaming forth, had a look of terror as she realised just what she had let herself in for.
The woven leather of the whip bit at her skin and left fiery red stripes where it struck her. The very thinness of the lash causing all of the force to be concentrated along the line of impact so that lines of glowing red swelling, with many small abrasions along the length, were left all over her body.
During this whipping, the room was filled with the sounds of the whip cutting through the air, terminating in the sound of leather thrashing into human flesh, then immediately drowned out by Yvonne's tortured screams of horrible, ghastly pain - each scream then slowly replaced by the pathetic and despairing, shuddering sobs and whimpers of the tortured victim.
After some fifty or so strokes, Yvonne had been reduced to an inhuman blubbering wreck, her body now red and battered, and becoming ever more swollen beneath the raised red marks and abrasions that covered her entire body.
Peter was puffing and panting from the continual effort that he'd been putting into beating his victim. He now paused and admired his work on Yvonne. She had looked so pretty and lovely when he had first started off. Now her eyes were swollen from crying, her face was tear stained, her hair was dishevelled from her threshing about as he had flogged her body, and her lovely, soft body was becoming beautifully damaged.
He stood looking and regaining his breath. Yvonne was still sobbing in her abject misery. Peter's gaze was attracted to Yvonne's small breasts with their large nipples. He had landed several blows across her breasts, and he now considered that it would be fun to concentrate on them and beat them to a pulp.
During this momentary interval, Yvonne had regained a little composure even though she continued sobbing pathetically. One would expect any other woman to plead for her release, but in fact Yvonne made no such plea, no complaint at all, and had simply waited for Peter's next onslaught on her body. Her pleas for mercy during the beating were automatic responses to self preservation, but in between, Yvonne accepted that it was her role to be nothing more than something to be used in this way.