Blind Leading the Blind

Chapter Four

Fetish

At 2 AM, Charlene woke up in pain. Her legs were cramped, trying to pull themselves closed against the ropes. Moaning in pain, she was unable to do anything but ride it out, letting the cramp torture her until it eased. Through it all, George slept beside her, unknowing. It was only when it had passed that she thought, "Why didn't I wake up George?" After thinking about it for several minutes, she could only conclude, "I was still acting like a slave, unwilling to disobey my Master's orders. That is so weird."

It took her some time to fall back to sleep. The inability to move seemed to increase the restless movements that she normally underwent trying to sleep. She concluded that she would have to be careful about asking to remain tied up for long periods of time, especially when George was asleep. But, by 3 she was asleep again, not waking until the alarm went off.

Their morning was the usual rush to get ready for their respective responsibilities. They had a little time at breakfast to talk about the previous night.

"Honey, last night was so fantastic. I can't believe how powerful everything that happened was," Charlene gushed.

"I felt the same way. I find that I'm becoming quite fond of our little Cherry and the way she makes me feel."

Charlene blushed at hearing herself referred to in the third person. "Being helpless turned out to be such a turn on. And the way you teased me over and over, never letting me know if I was going to be allowed to orgasm. Being so aroused and in tears is still taking some getting used to."

"On my side too. But I think I'm beginning to, not so much understand, I think I was understanding already, but to internalize the truth of how much you enjoy the helplessness and, I guess, callousness that comes to you as a slave."

"I hadn't thought of it that way, but you're right. Callousness. Knowing that I'm there for your pleasure and that mine is a mere afterthought. You know, I woke up at 2 with a horrible cramp and never thought to wake you up. You had told me not to, so I didn't."

"I'm not sure that's a good thing. If you're being hurt, you need to let me know."

"But how? I mean, yes, I could have woken you last night. But, the first time, with the spankings. How could I have let you know that I was hurting instead of just in pain? Does that make sense?"

"I think so. Clearly a spanking hurts, but is not hurtful. But, suppose that I had broken a bone" God forbid! How could you have told me? We'll have to think about that; especially if we plan on trying out some of those other fantasies."

"We should try to think of some way of saying, 'I'm hurt,' rather than, 'it hurts.' Do you have any idea which fantasy you would like to try next? Obviously, acting them out can be really good."

"Not really. Let's take a few days and think about it. I don't want to overload on them too fast."

"Okay, sounds good."

For the next three days, neither one talked about the fantasies that were remaining on their lists. That is not to say that they did not think about them; they did. Each worked through their own thoughts and desires. George's thoughts centered around how much Charlene seemed to take to the degrading aspects of the fantasies. Being a slave. Being helplessly bound. Both those things had actually made her even more erotic and passionate than she normally was. He was brought back to how surprisingly calm she had been when she read the whipping fantasy. He had been sure that it would have turned her off, horrified her. Yet, it didn't. It frightened her a little, but he was sure that was fear of being truly injured, not of the whipping itself. He wanted to give her the best opportunity to explore these recently recognized desires, even if he was uncomfortable with acting out his part of them.

Charlene struggled with the same thing she had been struggling with since they first committed their dreams to paper. How could she want so much that was degrading? She found her thoughts returning over and over again to the urination fantasy and George's sodomy fantasy. Both struck her as simply dirty and sick, yet they turned her on so much. By the end of the three days, she had not made any decision, other than that she wanted to try them all, as much in the hope that they didn't turn her on when they were real.

It was Thursday now, dinner time. George and Charlene had had their usual time of talking about their days, catching up with each other. A nervous silence passed and George broke it, bringing up the subject they had put off this long.

"Have you thought any about the next fantasy you want to explore?"

"Yes, and it's been bothering me a lot. I've been fixating on being degraded. Being peed on and taken anally. It really bothers me that I find those things attractive, arousing."

"It seems like all your fantasies involve some sort of humiliation on your part, whether from being unable to control your own pleasure to being used in some way that is totally dehumanizing. It could be that some of the things that you find arousing in fantasy won't be when you experience them for real. Never forget, no matter how much I play at treating you as a lesser being, you are, in fact, the most important person in my life. We act these out because they are, on some level, important to you."

"I know. It's still wonderful to hear you say that. I may need..., no, probably will need, to hear it again after some of these.... I guess ...'games' is the best thing to call them."

"Exactly! games. Just because Justin and his friends pretend to be wizards and thieves in a different world doesn't mean they are those people. Likewise, just because I pretend one night to treat you like crap, doesn't mean I really feel that way about you."

"That is so comforting. Can we do the urination one next? It's the worst of the ones that it bothers me to have. Get it out of the way?"

"Certainly. Tonight?"

"Not tonight. I need to be safe tonight."

"Safe I can do."

He came around the table and took her hand, leading her into the living room, to the couch. Sitting her next to him, he held her close, one arm tightly around her, forming a protective circle. He could feel tension easing out of her body, a sign that she was truly frightened of where the next fantasy would take them. She curled up next to him, her legs folded up beneath her, with her head nestled in his chest. Her body shook a little as she softly cried. George could tell that she was not sad or upset, but simply overwhelmed with emotion, needing to release what she could not express.

Charlene's tears flowed for almost an hour. When they stopped, she once again knew how deeply she loved the man holding her. More than that, she trusted him with her life. That's why she was able to explore these dark places, because she trusted him to not let her get lost in the darkness, to be her light. He could treat her like crap one night and effortlessly return to the loving, protective man she needed him to be afterwards.

Her hand strayed down to his pants, feeling his cock resting inside. It stirred at her light touch, shifting position as it hardened, just a little. Her hand continued to caress it through the jeans he was wearing. In her head, she knew what she wanted to do, but wasn't sure she was ready. Silently, she told herself, "This is the man I love, with all my heart. I would do anything for him, even this." Her hands reach together and undid the button on his pants, opening him to her. She caressed him through his briefs, feeling his penis become fully erect. When she felt the dampness of precum on his briefs, she pulled them off of him, letting his rod escape and stand up fully, glistening.

Now that she had total access, she ran her hands up and down his shaft, milking more and more precum out of him, slicking his cock in her grasp. George felt his senses centering on his dick, the rest of his body fading into the haze of arousal. He felt full, in a way. His cock felt like it was getting thicker as each moment passed. There was pressure in his balls as they prepared to empty themselves. He gasped when her hands left him, leaving his cock to cool in the air for a moment.

Charlene tried to bend down her head to him, but couldn't make herself do it. She reached down and brought one of his hands to the back of her head and pressed it against her. Taking the hint, he pressed her down, encountering no resistance. Her head reached his cock and the lips made contact. He felt her tense and shake, but she did not fight or struggle. Instead, she opened her mouth and let his hand push him into her. Inside, she was elated. She had taken him into her mouth without bolting and without being in slave mode. That she had to have him press her down wasn't important. That would come with time.

Her mouth began its work as she began to bob her head up and down on him. Her tongue made little swirls around his cock while her lips pressed on the sides. She could feel his hand on the back of her head, firm, yet gentle, reassuring her in some way she didn't fully understand. She put her hands behind her back, clasping them so that they would not get loose. She felt him become hot inside her mouth. While he didn't swell any more, he felt like he was. Her ministrations had made him hyper-sensitive, to the point where it was almost painful. With a gasping grunt, his cock clenched and then unloaded. His cum exploded into her mouth. Charlene quickly pulled back until the tip was all that was in her and let her tongue swipe at the jets of cum as they came out, savoring the taste her husband.

"Don't swallow yet," he said, as his orgasm passed. He rolled her onto her back, her head resting on his softening penis. "Open up."

She opened her mouth, revealing the cum pooled in her throat. Her breath, gurgling past the blocked reservoir in her throat, was quite audible. He dipped his finger in the milky white fluid and used it to paint her face. Feeling his cum being applied to her face, she shuddered. She could feel her nipples hardening and her cunt juicing as he acted out one of her fantasies in a way that was different and more erotic. Again and again, his fingers dipped into his fluids, mixed now wioth her saliva, and applied them to her face.

She opened her shirt while he was at it, exposing her chest and belly. Her bra was unclasped and pulled open as well. Recognizing the invitation, George continued the painting project down her body, coating her neck, breasts and belly with the white paint he had filled her with. While a little of the slick fluid went a long way, he had used half of it by the time he had reached the waist of her pants.

"Pull your pants down, let me see your pussy."

Obediently, she scooted her pants and panties down off her hips, revealing a pussy soaked with fluids of their own making. Once exposed, George, using two fingers now, scooped up globs of cum and spit, and massaged them into her pussy and pubic hair. His last stop was her cunt lips themselves. One last glob was extracted and he shoved it into her cunt, plunging his fingers after it. Charlene gasped and swallowed, no longer able to maintain the dam she had been holding in her throat.

The feel of his fingers in her pussy was intense, joined as it was with the taste of him still fresh in her mouth and the feel of him all over her body, cooling and drying. Each thrust into her was like a little explosion that caused her to jump and twist on his lap and the couch.

"Put your hands under you. Keep them there."

She did and soon found herself in near delirium as her ability to physically respond to her ratcheting arousal was inhibited. She moaned and writhed in pleasure as his fingers fucked her slowly and gently. Each inward thrust was held there for a few seconds, while the fingers explored the inside walls of her pussy. She was thrusting against him every time he pulled out, her pussy desperate for more than he was giving her.

"God! George, more... faster... please. I need more. Please."

It was as if her pleas fell on deaf ears. George kept up a slow, steady pace, never letting her arousal climb very fast. Realizing that he would not relent, Charlene gave into the sensations, whimpering and moaning as her body was played like a Stradivarius in the hands of a master violinist. Soon, he had her trembling, her body experiencing waves of sensation careening out from her pussy. As if each thrust into her was a small pebble thrown into a pond. For 15 minutes, he kept her at the edge of orgasm, this after over thirty minutes of getting her there. The sweat covering her kept the cumcoating her damp, its smell adding to the physical sensations that George was inflicting on her.

When his thumb finally made contact with her clit, she screamed inarticulately. She jumped past her orgasm, careening even higher without climaxing, as her clit was caressed mercilessly. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she tried to force her body to cum. It was only when George's fingers inside her pressed up on her clit from underneath, effectively pinching it, that she went over the top, her body locking up for several seconds, then shaking uncontrollably as her cunt felt like it exploded. She tried to scream at she came but found her lungs unable to work properly, limiting her to mere gasps.

To Charlene, it seemed like forever before she came down, even though it was only a minute or so. With her lungs working again, she drew in huge gulps of air into her aching body. George's hand was soaked in fluid from her orgasm. He brought it up and added to what was already smeared on her face. He gazed lovingly upon her, enjoying the look of contented lust that radiated from her face.

"That was so wonderful, George. I was totally not expecting that fantasy. But, I'm so glad you did it."

"I thought you needed something mind blowing after what we've been talking about. Sometime, we should combine this with being tied up. Though I worry a little about you passing out. I think you almost did this time."

"If I do, it will be a glorious passing out. Like the saying goes, what a way to go."

She smiled at the reference and started running her hands through the organic paint that was covering her. He joined her and brought his fingers to her mouth as they became covered in used sex. They relaxed for half an hour like this, enjoying the memories, both mental and physical, of the intense sex they had just had. Once the remains had begun to dry out and harden, they retired to the shower, cleaned themselves and went to sleep.

The next day, Charlene had no obligations and spent the day at home. The household chores occupied all of the morning and part of the afternoon, since they had left all the clean up after dinner undone. This gave her very little chance to dwell on what was coming up that night. The latter part of the afternoon took its toll on her. Once again, she was experiencing the conflicting feelings of abject humiliation and intense arousal. With nothing left to occupy her time, she found her thoughts locked onto the incredibly sick (in her mind) activity that she was intending to subject herself to. She had spaced out fixing dinner completely. By the time George had returned home, she was in tears.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"George, I'm so sick. To want this... thing we're going to do. What's wrong with me?"

"Charlene, we don't have to do this."

"No. I have to know. Does this really turn me on? Am I some sick slut?"

George was beginning to get worried. Charlene was really beating herself up over this. Yet, he could see her nipples were erect under her shirt.

"Dear, you need to stop this. Being aroused at the thought of being pissed on does not make you sick. Our minds are incredibly complex things and we respond to things very unpredictably. I'd be worried if you could only be aroused by being peed on. Obviously that's not the case. And if you're sick, then so am I, because I intend to pee on you tonight."

"It's just that it seems so outlandish. How can I be turned on by urine?"

"How can people eat sushi? How can people get turned on by someone of their own sex? I mean, I don't understand how Janet and Betsy can get aroused by themselves instead of two guys, but they do. We're all different. It doesn't make you sick, just different."

"I suppose you're right. I'm sorry about dinner."

"Not a problem. In fact, let's order pizza, have it here in a couple of hours and deal with our fantasy early. That way we can unwind afterwards and talk about how we felt about it."

Charlene gulped. "I... I guess that's okay. If I freak, it will give me time to recover."

George went into fantasy mode. "Charlene, go to the bathroom, strip and kneel in the tub."

Panic hit her. "Please, not so fast, George."

"Charlene, do as I say, or I will give you a spanking."

Charlene looked at George fearfully. His face was serious. He really would spank her if she did not do as he said. "George, I'm scared. It's going too fast. Please?"

George's face softened. "Charlene. This is your fantasy. You want to be forced to ask for this degradation. Let yourself go, be the humiliated slut that craves being pissed on. If it doesn't work out, we'll never do it again. But it is your fantasy."

Charlene began to cry. "I know. It's just so humiliating."

"I know. Tell me. Are you aroused right now?"

As he asked the question, she realized that she was, in fact, aroused. Her nipples were stiff, protruding through her shirt. Her pussy lips were feeling damp and there was an ache inside that was yearning to be filled. She broke down, crying. "Yes, I am. God, this is so wrong."

"Don't think about right or wrong. Live the fantasy, just this once. Now, go to the bathroom, strip and kneel in the tub."

Shaking in fear and humiliation, Charlene got up and walked to their bedroom where she undressed and climbed into the tub in the master bath. While she did, George called the pizza place and called in an order for delivery to be delivered in two hours. He figured that would be enough time to complete the fantasy and help Charlene recover from it. He had the impression that she would need that time. His bladder was noticeably full, as he had taken steps to insure that he could piss when the time came.

George went to the bedroom himself and undressed. When he entered the bathroom, Charlene was, as he had instructed, naked and kneeling in the tub. When he saw that she was openly sobbing, he began to have second thoughts. "She is really bothered by this. I'm not sure that these are 'in the fantasy' tears." He stood there for a couple of minutes, until she opened her eyes and saw him there. She looked up, pleading with her eyes? What exactly she was pleading for, he did not know.

Steeling himself, George let his voice go firm and said, "Ask for it."

Charlene sobbed again, shaking her head. George repeated his command. "Beg for it. Ask me now."

"Please... Please pee on me," she gasped between the sobs.

George pointed his cock at her and released his piss. The yellow stream of warm water hit her chest, ran down her breasts, across her belly and into her bush. Charlene felt her gorge rise. She gulped in reverse once, then again, and lost it. George saw the start of her vomitous reaction and cut himself off before she bent over and emptied what little there was in her stomach. As her stomach heaved in disgust for what had happened, George knelt beside her and placed his hand on her back, making soothing motions.

"It's all right. We're done with this one. It will never happen again."

Recovering quickly, only because there was so little to bring up, Charlene grabbed the edge of the tub for support. "I can't. I can't do it. It's so different for real. So sick and disgusting. I feel so dirty."

"You don't have to. This is supposed to be about things that turn us on. This doesn't do it for either of us, so it goes in the garbage can. Come on, let's get you clean."