A Husband's Responsibility

by

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Coercion, Lesbian, Heterosexual, BDSM, MaleDom, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Water Sports, Scatology, .

Desc: BDSM Sex Story: A woman and her old school friend are disciplined by the woman's husband after being caught having sex.

"Linda? Linda Trilby!"

I turned around to see who was calling my name.

"Linda, it's me, Karen Gray, from high school. Remember?

"Karen? Yes, of course. We were in the same class, weren't we? Well, what do you know. After, what is it, eight years we run into each other."

"Yes, amazing, isn't it. You want a drink? We can stop in here and talk about old times," Karen said, indicating a nearby wine bar.

"Why not. I was just window shopping anyway."

I remembered Karen Gray. We did not run in the same crowd. I was a cheerleader etc. etc. and Karen was one of the "uncool" kids who inhabited the environs of school social circles. What I do remember was she had some sort of crush on me and followed me around. She gave me the creeps. But I've lived and learned a bit since then.

We bought our wine and sat down. We talked about school and what had happened since. Karen had married a man called Charles Harding, the son of a well-to-do industrialist. They had one child, a two year old girl. She found her husband to be a nice fellow but a bit boring, especially in bed. His one problem was jealousy; Karen could not even talk to a man without getting the third degree afterwards. It was so bad she had had to sign a pre-nuptial agreement stating that if she were caught being unfaithful she would lose all claims to matrimonial property, alimony and custody of any children.

I told Karen my story: four years of college, marrying an Englishman and living the last three years in England. She was especially interested in my husband's name.

"Sir William Smythe-Willoughby!" she said. "You married an English knight?"

"A Baronet, actually. He inherited the title from his father," I corrected. "In England I'm known as Lady Smythe-Willoughby. How about that!"

We finished the bottle of wine so I asked Karen if she wanted to come around to my house for a bite to eat and to look at some old school photos. She readily agreed. At home I opened another bottle of wine and we sat down next to each other to look at our senior class year book.

"Eek! Don't look at my picture! I was a real creep," said Karen.

"Um, yes, you were," I said. "We used to call you the 'Stick Thing from Outer Space'. You had to be the ugliest thing I'd ever seen - skinny, frizzy hair, and those glasses! But you have certainly changed since then.

"Yes, it was quite amazing. When I turned nineteen it all happened. My bust went from a 30A to 36C, my butt finally filled out, I got rid of my braces and bought contacts." She laughed. "I put on fifteen pounds and got rid of almost as much hardware."

"You used to give me the creeps the way you used to follow me around." We were into our fifth glass of wine and I, for one, was beginning to feel loose. I doubt I could have said that if I were stone cold sober.

"Confession time," Karen said. "I had a terrible crush on you. You were exactly what I wanted to be, tall, popular with the boys, big tits. I used to dream of being you and being with you. But I've got over that now."

I looked down at her hand on my thigh.

"But you're happily married now," I said.

"Well, married now," Karen retorted. "I just wish Charlie, he hates me calling him that, I just wish Charlie was a bit more adventurous in bed. You know what I mean?"

"Yes, I think so, though it's a problem William and I don't have."

"He's a good fuck then."

"Karen!" I said in mock disgust.

"Oh, sorry, I must be drunk. What I meant to say was, he must have a big prick."

"Yes he does," I said, refusing to pretend shock anymore.

"Does he ever do any kinky things?" Her hand was beginning to squeeze my thigh quite hard.

"He likes to punish me when I'm naughty."

"What?"

I stood up, faced away from Karen, lowered my panties and raised my short skirt. I heard Karen gasp.

"See," I said, "he spanked me this morning for burning his toast."

"Your butt's bright red."

"Put your cheek against it and feel how warm it is."

I felt her cool cheek press against my hot one. I also felt her hands running up and down my legs.

"Oh, it's hot. Let me kiss it better."

With that I felt her lips press against my ass.

I stepped out of my panties and turned around. Undoing three buttons I dropped my short dress to the floor and stood stark naked in front of Karen.

"Let's go into the bedroom, it's much more private," I suggested.

We walked, arms around each other, into my bedroom. Karen was soon stretched out, naked, on my bed. I climbed on top of her and we kissed deeply as I rubbed my breasts on hers. I wasn't long before we were in a 69 position, eating each other's pussies. Karen was first to cum with me following close behind.

"Well, well, well," said a male voice behind me. Karen squeaked and jumped, looking for something with which to cover herself. There was nothing nearby. She sat in a ball with her arms and knees covering her breasts.

"Hello, William," I said, casually. "You're home early."

"Obviously," came the sarcastic reply.

"Is that your husband?" Karen whispered, panic in her voice.

"William," I said, as cool as a cucumber, "I'd like you to meet an old school friend of mine, Karen, uh."

"Harding," Karen said in a small, frightened voice.

"Hello, Karen," William said, extending a hand. Karen removed an arm from around her breasts and shook the proffered hand. "Any relation to Charles Harding?"

"He's my husband." I thought Karen was about to faint.

"Yes, I have done business with him. He approves of you having sex with other peoples' wives?"

"No, no! I've never done anything like this before." Karen's face was getting whiter and whiter. There were tears in her eyes.

"I'm afraid I do not approve either. I will have to tell him."

With that, Karen fainted.

"Revive her," William said as he picked up a remote control and pressed a few buttons.

I put on a robe, then bent over the prostrate woman and patted her face until she came around. She looked up at me, the dreamy look quickly replaced by one of terror.

It seemed Karen had forgotten she was naked. She leaned back on her elbows and watched William as a bird would watch a snake. William ignored her.

William pressed a few more buttons on the remote and the large television in the corner of the room burst into life. On the screen were two naked women making love to one another. The women were, quite clearly, Karen and me. Karen began to hyperventilate.

"I may even need to show him this, to prove I am not lying."

"When did you install the camera?" I asked him.

"Last weekend. It's sound activated. I wanted to find out if you were being naughty during the day when I was out."

Karen was into some serious sobbing. It took me several minutes to calm her down enough to talk to her. Finally she regained control.

"What do you want from me?" she asked with trepidation.

"Nothing," replied William, "other than to know you have been properly punished."

"Please don't tell my husband."

"How will you be punished if he does not know you have been naughty?"

"Could you punish me? Then he'd never need to find out."

"Madam, it is a husband's responsibility and duty to punish his own wife. I could not possibly do it."

"Oh, please punish me!" Karen sobbed. Still naked, she had jumped off the bed and was kneeling at William's feet holding on to his hand and rubbing her wet face on the back of it. "Please, please, PLEASE, don't tell Charles!"

"Well - I hate to see a lady in distress. Come by here Saturday morning at eight in the morning and I will see to it that you are properly punished."

"Saturday? I can't possibly make it Saturday morning!"

"Well, then we will let your husband sort it out."

"No, no, I'll be here Saturday morning."

"Don't be late," I whispered to her after William had left the bedroom and she was getting dressed.


At five minutes after eight on Saturday morning there was a quiet tap at my front door. I opened the door a crack to find Karen.

"Sorry I'm late, I just couldn't get away any sooner. Saturday mornings are just..."

"You'd better get in real quick," I interrupted. "William's looking up your phone number right now to call your husband."

"Oh, no!" she cried.

I let her in.

"Where..." she started until she looked at me. "What the hell?..."

She was staring at me, or more what I was wearing. I had on a heavy leather corset laced up the back. The corset had no cups for my 38D breasts. Instead there were two curved brass plates which held them up and out. A heavy brass rod about eighteen inches long and weighing about five pounds hung horizontally from clips attached to my nipples, stretching them unmercifully. A leather dog collar around my neck held a heavy chain which passed between my breasts, through the slit between my legs, up between the cheeks of my ass and attached to the back of the collar. The chain was pulled as tight as it could get. Attached to the chain was a six inch long, two inch wide butt plug. I was wearing six inch heels with two inch platforms and my ankles were shackled together so I could only just shuffle along. Hopping with that weight hanging off my nipples was out of the question.

"Oh, my god." was all that Karen could say. She was white as a sheet.

"Hello? Mr. Harding? It is William Smythe-Willoughby here -"

Karen suddenly woke up and went running into the room from where the voice was coming.

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