So I sat there, my wrists and ankles bound to the chair I was sitting in. My mouth forced open by the pink ball gag wrapped around my head. My cock, as pitiful as it looked at the moment, was locked in its cage covered by pink lace panties. The view in front of me was both humiliating and exhilarating at the same time. My wife of 4 years was on her back, her knees pushed to either side of her head while a man I'd never met drove his 8 inch cock in and out of her pussy.
"You see pussy-bitch, this is how a real man fucks your wife!" she screamed through gritted teeth. "Such an amazing cock! So fucking big!" I could hear every sharp intake of breath. Every slap when his balls would slam against her ass. I knew at any moment he would empty those balls into her pussy. A pussy that until tonight had been only mine for the better part of six years.
How did we get here you may ask. Well, to make a long story short, it goes kind of like this...
I am a submissive man, always have been. My first wife would have none of it. I was a man. Men are supposed to be Dominant. End of story. For many reasons that failed miserably. Enter the woman I'm happily married to now. After we met, I learned that she is every bit as dominant as I am submissive. Then the fun began. Over time we tested and pushed each other's boundaries. When she learned I am a masochist, her eyes lit up. Soon we had a closet full of whips, floggers, canes, paddles, and all other delicious ways for her to torture me. Things spiced up even more when she learned I enjoyed crossdressing.
We spent many night with me in the most beautiful dresses as she did my makeup and took pictures. Then she'd proceed to tie me down and whip me until I was covered in bruises. Only then would she pull out her strapon and brutally fuck my pussy. (I learned long ago that as her sissy bitch, I do not have an ass. I have a clitty and a pussy.) It was some of the best times of my sexual life. But my submissive nature craved more. A part of me, a deep part of me wanted to not only be her submissive, but rather her slave.
"Honey, have you ever considered pushing our D/s nature a little further?" I'd ask. I would tell her my cravings and desires. To be treated like nothing more than a possession by her. She always seemed hesitant. I assume it was because she genuinely loved and respected me. And that love and respect superseded any dominance she felt toward me. But I always thought to myself she can love me AND own me at the same time. As long as she respected my place as her husband, she could treat me and say whatever she wanted. By all means, the treatment I wanted was consensual.
Fast forward to last night. I was lying in bed reading when she walked into the bedroom.
"So..." Her voice trailed off. Her face hid a sly grin that I couldn't quite figure out.
"What is it, babe?"
