Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Rape, Coercion, Heterosexual, Wife Watching, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom, Spanking, Rough, Humiliation, Sadistic, Interracial, White Couple, Black Male, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Public Sex, Caution, .
Desc: BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A young bride's ambitious husband joins a secret society, and his personality and treatment of his wife both take a turn for the worse.
Martina had known that Drew had always wanted to join The Order. Even before they were married three years ago, he made it known that there was, as he called it, a 'gentleman's society' that on occaision would require his time as an applicant, and if he was ever admitted, there would be regular meetings he had to attend.
It seemed harmless enough to her, really a grown-up boy's club, with secret handshakes, regular poker games, and even a clubhouse that Drew called "The Temple," though of course she never knew where this clubhouse was located.
He had finally been initiated last year. It coincided with their second anniversary, and he spent the whole weekend away from the house undergoing his "induction rituals." Martina accepted because she loved Drew, and it was so important to him.
She was dismayed, though that her husband had become both more emotionally distant and more controlling in the time that had passed since his initiation. He was more demanding of the way she kept the house, which he never actively took a role in, even though they both worked full time. He also became more specific about the way that he wanted her to dress at home, requiring that she wear dresses or skirts rather than the jeans or shorts that she preferred around the house on weeknights and weekends.
She convinced herself she didn't mind, because he told her that she was too beautiful to hide her beauty with drab clothing. Over time, she discovered that he was throwing away the clothes that he didn't want her to wear, though he took her on regular shopping trips such that her wardrobe actually grew substantially even as he culled out what he considered to be unacceptably mundane. When she complained one day that she no longer had any clothes suitable for yard work or gardening, he hired a lawn service and gardener, explaining that they were now prosperous enough, as a direct result of his being inducted into The Order, to afford to have others perform such base tasks.
One day she returned home from shopping (for dresses) to find that she no longer had any sneakers, or sandals with less than a two-inch heel. A week later she no longer owned any pants, shorts or jeans, and by the end of that same month, no T-shirts or casual tops.
She asked him why he didn't also hire a housekeeper to take care of the "base tasks" of maintaining the home, instead requiring her to perform the chores in a specially designated plaid cotton sundress and either barefoot or in canvas wedge heels. His reply to her request was to glower and intone, "First, the maintenance of our home is your duty as my wife, and second, I cannot ever allow an outsider to so invade the sanctity of our home."
He did, however, ultimately agree to a laundry service to remove that burden from her routine, so long as they did their pick-ups and deliveries at times when he was home. In fact, all service needed to be performed when he was at home, even, like yard work, if the service workers never entered the house and could perform their tasks just as easily while no one was present.
Their sex life, never really very exciting or very frequent while they were dating or in the first two years of marriage, also changed after his induction. Before he became a member of The Order he would initiate sex, usually on a Saturday and after a romantic date, with tenderness and care. He would kiss her and caress her small breasts until her nipples were sensitive and erect. Occasionally he would suck her nipples and finger her pussy gently until she was wet and ready.
He would then mount her and penetrate her slowly, since his prick was rather large and she was a petite woman and very tight. He never was able to control himself very long before climax (she thought it was because she was so tight) but usually he would kiss her and play with her breasts as she rubbed herself to an orgasm of her own.
After his induction, their sex increased substantially in frequency, but also, as far as Martina was concerned, had become far less intimate and loving. In fact, she thought it was beginning to border on abuse.
It changed abruptly the Sunday night after his return from the weekend ceremony. She lay naked in bed as he showered, touching her clit gently to prepare for what she hoped would be a tender welcome home. She thought she might even try sucking his cock.
She had only given her husband head a few times in their years together, since she really didn't like the feel of his large cock in her mouth, or and really disliked the taste. In addition, she didn't think he found it very enjoyable. Tonight, though, as a special treat in honor of his induction, she might even try swallowing his cum, or at least letting him shoot it in her mouth, to see if she still disliked it as much as she remembered. The idea had her so excited that she fingered herself nearly to orgasm as she waited for him to join her in bed.
He came out of the shower naked and hard, backlit by the bathroom vanity. She actually found herself salivating as she contemplated placing his large, heavy tool between her lips. She pulled back the covers to reveal her own nakedness to her husband, and she thought she actually heard him growl as he approached, his impressive muscled build flexing and rippling.
Drew paused for a moment by the edge of the bed, then pounced into a position over her on all fours, evoking a surprised squeal from his petite bride. He took her by the arm and rolled her powerfully onto her stomach, her face pressed into her pillow. Holding her firmly in place with his strong hand on her back between her shoulder blades, he lifted her hips with the other hand and in a single motion drove his hard, thick length into her tight hot center.
She grunted in protest but couldn't articulate her objections with her face buried in the thick downy pillow. The initial impact of his manhood deep into her pussy, without any of the usual preparation and with no warning, had hurt quite a lot and felt like it had bruised her inside.
He didn't fuck her so much as plowed her, driving her slight feminine form down into the cushion of the plush pillow-top mattress. As he continued to rhythmically pound into his wife, her initial pain and surprise was slowly overwhelmed by a sense of surrender and eventually pleasure. Especially so because he lasted far longer than he ever had in the past. By the time he buckled in orgasm, planting his creamy seed deep inside his wife's tender womb, she had already climaxed twice herself ... a peak that his penetration alone had never before provided.
He rolled off of her and sighed contentedly, "Damn you are one tight fuck, honey." She still lay in the same position, panting and recovering from the rough hammering she had received. His hand came down hard on her ass, and she yelped in pain. "Get up! Clean your sloppy pussy before you dribble all over my new sheets!"
By the time she returned from the bathroom, feeling thoroughly used but oddly sexually fulfilled, he was fast asleep and snoring, stretched naked across the bed. She curled up next to him and quickly fell asleep herself.
Over the following weeks his sexual behavior deviated even more from their traditional, boring norms. Martina wasn't sure what to make of his new interest. On the one hand it was flattering, because he was far more sexually attentive to her. She enjoyed knowing that her husband wanted her as a woman.
On the other hand, his recent conduct was upsetting, because Drew was also acting in a way that increasingly reminded her of the 'old country' values that she thought she had left behind when she emigrated from Romania. Added to these conservative, paternalistic views was an extra, growing streak of perversion that worried the young bride.
One of the signal events that troubled her most was the first weekend that the new lawn service arrived. She had been working in the kitchen, preparing a cake for the evening's dessert, and Drew had been working on his computer when the two-man yard crew entered the fenced backyard and started working on the wide lawn and landscape overlooked by the kitchen window.
Martina was daydreaming as she rinsed out one of the mixing bowls, absently staring out the window. She didn't hear her husband's quiet approach through the background noise of running water and gasoline engines. When his face appeared at her shoulder and he whispered, "What are you looking at, Marty?" she was startled, shrieking and dropping the aluminum bowl into the stainless sink.
He wrapped is strong arms around his wife, hugging her close from behind and laughing mockingly at her surprise. She could feel his thickness, pressing against her bottom through their clothing. "Caught you ... you were thinking about those men, weren't you my loving wife?"
Her heart was still pounding hard from the surprise. "No, Drew, I was just thinking about good I feel when I bake something and it turns out so nicely."
"Lies, gypsy lies." She fumed. She hated when she called her a gypsy. Not because she felt the term was derogatory, but because as a 'pure' Romanian she harbored a deeper animosity toward the Roma people than most Americans could understand. Her own family had been badly victimized by Romany criminals. She associated these acts with the entire people, and she hated them, and hated even more that Romanian immigrants were often confused with Roma by bigots in outer countries. But her dark exotic looks and her foreign accent often seemed to lead these ignorant people to make the despised comparison.
Drew knew better, and he did it anyway, just to anger her. She grabbed the bowl clattering in the sink and threw it down hard on the counter, and it bounced out and rang across the tile floor. She started cursing in Romanian. Her English couldn't keep up with her anger at times like this.
Her husband's cock got even harder against her skinny ass as she vented her pent-up rage. She tried to turn to face him but he wrapped his fingers in her long dark hair, bending her over the counter, and lifting her up on her barefoot tiptoes. "Oh yeah, that's it, my little tramp. You want those tough, sweaty men in my house."
He lifted the hem of her dress over her back and tore off her bikini panties, still holding her by the hair so that she was forced to look out the window as the burly, shirtless men did their work. "No, Drew, I'm your wife ... I don't want other men. I want you."
"Don't lie to me bitch. I know you would seduce them and fuck them both if I weren't here." She could feel him struggling to unbuckle his belt, then finally getting free of his own pants she could feel his hot penis slap up between her legs against the wet mouth of her pussy. "You're dripping! Lying bitch. You were fantasizing about fucking them!" He jammed his cock into her with a grunt.
This was the way it always was for her now. No foreplay, no tenderness, just his long, thick cock rammed inside in one hard stroke. It didn't matter whether she was wet or not, whether she wanted it or not, or even, sometimes, if she was awake. He always took her from behind, pawing at her, pulling her hair and sometimes reddening her ass with spankings as he rode her. His cock always hurt her at first, but that only seemed to inspire him to bang into her even harder.
His furious thrusting made her reach out to brace herself, and she pressed her open palms against the kitchen window with a thud as she was driven forward yet again. The laborers had just shut down their equipment for a moment in order to wrap up a garden hose under the window, and they both alerted to the unexpected sound. One caught Martina's eye with a lecherous gaze when he realized what her husband was doing to her in full sight of the two. The other stared at the husband's face as he madly plunged into his tightly controlled wife.
"You see," the husband hissed. "You want them to watch! You banged on the window."
"No, Drew, it was an accident."
"Sure, like this is an accident!" He reached up with his free hand and tore off the front of his wife's cotton dress, exposing her bare breasts and dark erect nipples to the appreciative audience on the other side of the glass. Her husband grabbed one tit and clenched it tightly in his fist, causing her to gasp in pain. "That's it, look at her! You know you want to fuck her, fuck my wife!"
"No, darling..." She tried to object, but it was too late, she was starting to quiver in an unwanted climax, at the same time that her husband unleashed a powerful load inside her. He kept rocking into her until his softened dick gave up and flopped out wetly, allowing his gooey sauce to drip onto the kitchen floor.
The men still stared, smiling broadly. Martina grasped pitifully at the front of her ripped dress and tried in vain to cover herself as she ran from the kitchen into their bedroom, tears streaming down her face. Drew just smiled back at them as one nodded his head in appreciation and the other gave him a thumbs-up sign. Martina's husband returned the signals of macho brotherhood, tucked his cock back into his pants, and ambled back into the bedroom with a self-satisfied smirk.
He stepped up to the locked master bathroom door and heard the unmistakable sounds of her crying and retching. She was physically ill from the humiliation she suffered. His cock started to harden again at the thought.
He leaned against the door and yelled through it. "Honey, when you're done pulling yourself back together in there, I've laid out another dress for you. I'm going out back to have a talk with our lawn service. Bring us some lemonade as soon as you can." He smiled and gave his resurgent erection a squeeze as he heard her heave into the toilet. "Don't take too long in there. I'm sure those poor men need relief from the heat. Be a good hostess and don't keep them waiting."