Punishment

The four of us sat at our dining room table and ate dinner like it was a normal get-together between friends. Barb even complimented my casserole. On his own, my husband opened two bottles of wine, a red and a white, and put them on the table. I knew why. He needed the alcohol to deal with the fact that Barb has just gotten him off while being forced to listen to his wife' moans as she was being fucked by another man. I always make a lot of noise when climaxing.

Mostly we made small talk while eating, although at one point Barb got up and came around behind me. "I want to test something in my design of Julie's gown," she said.

Her hand came over my shoulder and shifted the opening so that my left breast was exposed, nipple and all. A little twist of the edge of the fabric, and it caught under by tit and stayed open.

"Wonderful," she exclaimed. "Just like intended. Of course, the wearer must have adequate structure for it to work. In this case, I think it will hold this shape all through dinner. What do think, Julie?"

"I think I'm being put on display," I said.

"Yes, and you love it. So does Charles. What about you, Bill?"

"Nice," he said, and looked away. Poor Bill. I know how he liked looking at my tits. It was the sharing that he wasn't so sure about, especially when the nipples were stiff and prominent, like they were after getting all that attention.

We were almost finished when I felt a nylon stocking-covered foot slide up under my gown. Barb, who was sitting across from me, gave me a wink. I took a breath and looked at the men. They had not noticed.

Should I say something? Or scoot back? Barb put down her fork and brought her napkin up to her mouth. She positioned a finger against her lips in a way that signaled me to be quiet. I nodded. I was not about to cross her.

She smiled and launched into a new subject, complaining about the local library's censorship of books. Her foot advanced further up between my legs. The heel soon was on my chair seat, and she began sweeping her toes back and forth like a slow windshield wiper, encouraging me to spread my thighs.

Should I resist? Clamp my legs together and make her force me? Suddenly she straightened her leg and her toes were on my pussy. The battle was lost before it began. Ten little piggies were dancing on my already sensitized vulva. My knees feel open. The already slick nylon became slicker. It felt really, really good.

Barb was an expert. She used the toes on one foot to pry me open, so that the toes on the other foot could slip inside and nuzzle my clit. I found myself slipping down in my chair to order to push back at her foot. I dropped my fork and gripped the edge of the table. My eyes were wide and my mouth half open.

Now the men noticed. Charles, of course, knew exactly what was going on, and grinned. Bill was clueless.

"Julie!," he exclaimed. "Are you choking on something?"

Barb jerked her foot back. I straightened and wiped my mouth with my napkin. "No, no, I'm fine," I said. "Just a momentary spasm."

"Tut, tut," said Barb. "You are too uptight, Julie. You need to learn to relax."

"Yes," I sighed. "But it's not easy in this situation."

"You'll learn," she said. "I'll teach you. Now, what's for desert? Besides the two of you, of course."

I sighed. "All we have is ice cream and cookies."

"What? You didn't bake a cake for us? Shame on you, Julie. You'll get an extra spanking for that. I'll have some vanilla, but be sure to save some for other uses later."

"Same for me," said Charles.

"What about you, Bill?" I asked.

"Vanilla's fine," he replied in a low voice.

Charles shook his head. "Poor Bill. He seems so resigned. I think our punishment is working. What do you think, Julie? Will your husband ever regain his self-respect?"

That was a good question. Bill had clearly demonstrated that being 'cucked' excited him sexually. What would that do to a man's image of himself?

"I don't know," I said honestly.

Bill looked at me. He seemed lost. "I still love him," I said.

"Of course you do," said Barb. "True love embraces all aspects of each other's sexual nature. You both should thank us for bringing it out. Both of you are submissives, which makes it tricky. You need a couple of doms like Charles and me to help you to fully experience the pleasure life has to offer, and allow you to share it with each other."

Barb had a point, I had to admit. But how were two subs supposed to live together in sexual harmony?

***

Cleaning up after dinner was quite an experience. I did the duty at the sink, with Barb feeding me dirty dishes and Charles playing with my ass. Bill was tied to a straight back kitchen chair, his hands cuffed behind him, and his cock standing straight up through the slit in his loin cloth. Every few minutes Barb would go over and give it a pull.

"That's good enough," I said as I closed the dishwasher. "I'll do the pots and pans tomorrow."

Barb grinned. "And Charles will continue tormenting you while you do them. He does it to me all the time. Makes me look forward to dish washing. But right now, I'm tired and need a nap. Go untie hubby and lead us to your bedroom."

"It's only seven o'clock," I protested. "Maybe we could watch a movie."

"We'll watch a movie later," she said. "I brought a special film for late night watching. But we need to be rested first. Let's go..."

I freed Bill from the chair, and, in the process, managed to tuck his fading erection back under the loin cloth. His hands remained cuffed behind him. Then we proceeded down the hall to our master bedroom with its king-sized bed. I led the way, with Charles right behind me, his hand continuing to cup my bare ass. He couldn't seem to get enough, which I took as a complement.

"Oh goodie," exclaimed Barbara when we entered the bedroom. "A king bed with no footboard. Lots of room to stretch out in different positions."

She through her bag onto a chair and turned to Bill, grasping his now flaccid cock. "You seem to need constant attention," she snickered. "Go lie on the floor on your back on the other side of the bed."

Bill hesitated and was encouraged by Barb with a pull on his dick and a slap across the face. He jumped to it then. His cock reacted to the sharp discipline by coming to full attention. Barb noticed and gave me a knowing wink. It was like she was pointing out his sexual response to harsh treatment. I took notice. It was a side of him I hadn't known.

"Now, Julie," she said. "Take off that silly gown and get on your back on the bed, feet at the head. Lie in the middle so Charles and I can be on the sides. I'll take the side next to hubby, so I can reach down and torment him."

I did as instructed and lay naked on the bed. They looked down on me like I was a slave, given to them for their pleasure. I watched them as they took their time undressing each other. She went first, pulling off Charles' shirt and dropping his pants. Then she knelt and took off his shoes and socks. His cock stood straight out through the slit in his shorts. She looked up at him and kissed it, before sliding the shorts down and off.

I had seen Charles' body before, but never on display like that. He was an exquisite specimen of a virile man. I was well aware that I was lying naked before him, and that he could do what he wished with me. My pussy was moist, getting ready.

Charles pulled Barb to her feet and began undressing her. The pants suit came off easily. He lingered over and caressed each area of exposed flesh. Her breasts were well shaped and firm, with big areolas. The nipples stood erect like little soldiers. She kicked off her shoes and arched her body, smiling at Charles and squeezing his cock.

"What do you want to do to them first," she whispered.

"I'll get the whip," he said. "But first we need to tie her down."

"The whip and some straps are in the bag," she said.

The straps were soft Velcro, and ideal for quickly binding my wrists together. Barb did it in a way that left a length free, which she attached to a newel on the headboard. My arms were secured above my head, but I could be rolled over to lie on my stomach or my back.

"Better do Hubby too," Charles said. "Don't want him interfering."

"Or trying to protect himself when we use the whip on him," she said.

Needless to say, we didn't get much sleep that night. Bill and I were made to do unspeakable things for their pleasure, and ours. The rest of the weekend was more of the same. I lost count of the number of times I climaxed. Bill too.

By the time they left on Sunday we were fully enlisted as the newest members of their BDSM swingers' group. They gave us names indicating our status. I was "Slave Hottie", and Bill was "Slave Whimp". It suited us well.