As I saw Cheryl's legs begin to quiver, I thought not for the first time, that this might not be a good idea. Though it was far too late to do anything about it now. After all, I was fastened motionless to a chair with a ball gag in my mouth. Whether or not my wife survived this night was totally out of my control.
I watched helplessly as Mwenga pounded his massive black cock in and out of Cheryl's anal passage, gripping her hip with one hand and holding her head underwater with the other.
Mwenga was an incredible specimen of a man. He was straight out of Africa, so black he was almost blue. His head was shaved bald and his whole body rippled with muscles. His entire demeanor conveyed utter confidence and control.
'Three and a half to four minutes' I thought. That's what Sebastian had promised. "Once Mwenga gets going, that's all he needs to finish." Sebastian had told me during a phone conversation when I really began seriously entertaining this insane event.
We had timed it many times. Cheryl was able to hold her breath for four minutes, barely. But of course that was under ideal circumstances, not being held bent over with her head underwater while her ass was being ravaged by a modern-day Mandingo and her pussy being licked by the expert tongue of a raven-haired beauty.
We knew Cheryl was going to be sodomized during this event, after all that was what this spectacle was all about. Her head would be held underwater while Mwenga fucked her ass. Only when he climaxed would she be lifted up and allowed to breathe again. What we didn't know was that there was going to be a girl kneeling between her legs licking her pussy at the same time.
Cheryl is a very orgasmic girl and especially responsive to oral stimulation and the girl between her legs looked to be an expert. 'Can Cheryl hold her breath while having an orgasm?' I wondered as her legs began to shudder. As the seconds dragged on, I thought back to how this whole situation came about.
Sebastian was been a business associate who I had gotten to know through a series of phone conversations over the past few years. He was a guarded, quiet, thoughtful person who rarely offered more information than was necessary.
Sebastian and I first met face to face in my office. He had come to finalize a business deal we had been working on. He was very distinguished looking, trim with close cropped black hair that had just a touch of grey. His steel blue eyes locked on the picture of my wife on my desk as he entered my office. I could see the uncertainty on his face. At 27, Cheryl is 20 years younger than I.
"My wife, Cheryl." I said, dispelling his curiosity.
"She's absolutely stunning." Sebastian said as he examined the picture closer.
Cheryl is a natural beauty with deep blue eyes and long honey blonde hair.
Sebastian never took his eyes off the picture as he said, "I find that younger women are more... adventurous these days, and often quite submissive, in the hands of the right man."
"Well," I said, choosing my words carefully, "Cheryl is certainly open minded."
"Open minded can mean many different things." He said, his eyes finally meeting mine.
Sebastian was quite a mystery and I must admit that he had some very intriguing qualities about him. Anyone else I would have no doubt dismissed and shifted the discussion onto more solid ground, but I found myself continuing the conversation down the course that he had set. "What I mean to say is that Cheryl is a very sexual girl, and she's not afraid to experiment."
"Is that so?" he asked as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet and pulled out a business card. He then snapped a pen from his pocket and wrote something on the card, then handed it to me.
The card contained a web address that I didn't recognize and below it Sebastian had written a long series of letters and numbers.
"That will get you into the site," he said, "look it over, I think you'll find it interesting. I'm guessing though that either your wife is not quite as adventurous as you claim, or that you do not have the amount of influence over her that you think you have."
I smiled to myself, Sebastian did not know who he was dealing with. I could fill a book with all the wild sexual adventures Cheryl and I have had. We were a perfect match, I had a wickedly devious imagination and she had a nearly insatiable sexual appetite. Together we had done things that would make a trucker blush. I assured Sebastian that I would look over his little website. We then went on to conduct the business at hand.
After our meeting concluded Sebastian left to make some other appointments. I had a few business issues to take care of but as soon as I could I punched the website address into my computer. I was met with a blank screen with just a rectangular white box with the cursor blinking on the left side of the box. I entered the sequence of letters and numbers Sebastian had written on the card.
Welcome to the Society for Sexual Debauchery, the screen flashed. I clicked on the word Enter. I spent the next hour reading about the most incredible organization I had ever seen.
It was a group of men and women who were obviously chosen for their attractiveness and their appetite for sexual deviancy. I saw pictures and descriptions of every type of debauchery imaginable being performed by the hottest women I'd ever seen. I was totally fascinated. These were definitely my kind of people.
I then read about the initiation. There was a picture of statuesque nude black man with his arms folded in front of him, standing next to a water trough. The text described the ordeal and finished with "...and if she survives, the couple is welcomed into our society."
'If she survives?' I thought, that must just be some kind of bravado to scare off the fakes and wannabes. They wouldn't seriously put the girl at risk. I picked up the phone and dialed Sebastian's cell number. He was as evasive as ever. "If you don't think she can do it, I wouldn't try, that is if you can even talk her into giving it a try." He had a way of always including a little dig into the conversation.
I was no clearer on the initiation after the conversation than I was before it. Though as the hours passed and I read more about the society, I became more and more determined that I wanted to become a member.
A murmur went through the crowd as Cheryl's legs began convulsing. Her legs remained spread wide though, due to being fastened by the ankle cuffs she was wearing to steel posts protruding from the floor in front of the trough. I wasn't sure if her convulsions were from an orgasm or from desperation caused from losing her breath.
I scanned the room to see if anyone else was concerned or about to go to her aid. All I saw were expressions of lust and desire. Some of the couples were stroking each other as they watched. Others were standing or sitting with the girl in front and her man behind her moving in rhythm with each other, obviously engaged in some not-so discrete sex.
I looked back to Cheryl. Mwenga was increasing his pace and the girl between her legs continued licking. If either of them had any concerns, they didn't show it.
As soon as I got home I told Cheryl about my discussion with Sebastian and the society. She sat at the computer while I punched the website and the password into the computer. Cheryl's eyes lit up as she read about the society and looked at the pictures.
I watched her face as she linked to the page describing the initiation, her expression changed from one of eager fascination to one of apprehensive concern. "if she survives?" she read aloud.
"Sebastian says he's like a machine, he always cums in three and a half to four minutes, lets time you." I said removing my watch and putting it in stopwatch mode. . "OK, take three deep breaths and hold the last."
Cheryl did as I instructed and I started timing. I was disheartened when not quite at the three-minute mark she blew out the air she was holding and took a deep breath. "How long was that?" she asked as she caught her breath. I handed her my watch dejectedly. She saw the disappointment on my face. "Let me try again."
This time she took deeper breaths and managed to hold it for three minutes and fifteen seconds. "That's quite an improvement," I said, "maybe there's exercises you can do to improve your performance.
We did a web search and found that there were indeed techniques practiced by free-divers to increase one's lung capacity. Cheryl looked up at me as I leaned over her reading enthusiastically from one of the websites. "Ron, I'm still not sure about this, I mean, what if I don't make it?"
I looked down into her eyes. "It's your decision, and I don't even want you to try unless I'm confident you can do it, but I really want to get into that group."
She looked into my eyes for another few moments and then began reading about the breathing techniques again.
After a couple weeks of practice, Cheryl was consistently topping the four-minute mark. "Do you really want me to do this?" she asked one evening as we embraced.
"I can't lie, I know it's a lot to ask and it's totally up to you, but yes, I really want it.
She studied my face. "OK, set it up." she finally said.
I smiled and kissed her deeply.
The address Sebastian gave me was far outside of town. Cheryl sat nervously quiet as we made our way through the darkness on the long drive out there. Arriving at our destination I turned onto a long winding driveway before being stopped by a gate.
