“I am so lucky,” I said as I breathed down into my glass of burgundy wine. “Why, darling?” my husband Michael asked as he gently brushed back a strand of my auburn hair. I could smell the sweet scent of freshly burnt matches which had been used to light the many spice apple candles we had decorating our apartment. The music was turned down low and I could pick out a variety of violin and piano notes which blended together just perfect enough to encourage the intoxicating feeling I was receiving from my second glass of Merlot. Michael never missed a thing. He knew me inside out right down to his black pin stripped pants he knew I adored on his lean and very muscular body. “You,” I said with a sigh as I leaned into his embrace. I knew he was smiling, I could feel his stiff stubble graze my forehead. The truth was, we never had evenings together when we were first married. As hard as it is to believe, we dated less but fell in love more quickly than the average person. After six months, he proposed and in another three we were married. I can still remember the nights he would lie awake by my side calculating figures in his head, and the morning I would wake up to the smell of coffee but he would already be gone. He was trying to get his first book published and I was amazed at his endurance and strength. It far exceeded what I had inside of me but he had a passion, a level of desire to be better, no the best at everything he touched. Including me. Smiling again, I took another sip of my wine. Michael pulled me a little closer knowing that I was feeling the effects of his magic. The truth was, the nights like these were coming more often than usual but I didn’t question why. I was just happy to be warm, protected, and held. He gently readjusted me so that I was leaning against the arm rest and red throw pillow made of down. Watching him walk away I couldn’t help but smile again. His long thick dark brown hair was brushed back and his piercing blue eyes were not the least bit hidden behind his intense square wire rimmed glasses. His arms never touching his sides because his broad shoulders were enhanced with the hands of a skilled artist. Thick fingers which could work over a laptop at optimal speed and never so much as miss a word. Michael had one of the rare chests I found absolutely arousing. Ripples of muscle slightly hidden underneath a thick sheath of fine brown hair. Starting at his collar bone and congregating around his pecs it closed in to a rugged line following down to his belly button after which elapsed into a thick covering of his abdomen and below. I could hear him walk barefoot across the hard wooden floors and reach for his flogger. A pang of nervousness entered my stomach and I took another large gulp from my glass. Smiling at me he held my gaze and I saw him smile. His smile could speak a thousand unspoken words between us. Each one bringing a new meaning into our communication. He wouldn’t hurt me. I knew this, but watching his powerful stride back to me my head spun with the strength I knew he possessed. Laying his whip on the coffee table in front of us he out stretched his arms which almost covered the length of the couch and put his feet up on the table. Instinctively I set my glass down and curled up next to him. I knew he was getting into his zone. A character in which he took on whenever he wished to play this way with me. His eyes closed and he took a deep breath. I knew he meditated in college and I imagined this is what he was doing now. He didn’t move except for the rise and fall of his stomach. I didn’t have to get into any such zone. There was never any need to. He always formed me with such immaculate grace into whatever he wished me to be on these nights. They were rarely the same. Sometimes he wanted me to be a schoolgirl lost in the woods, sometimes he wanted me to be a playful puppy begging for attention, but tonight, unbeknownst to me, he had a different plan in mind. Tonight there would be no role-playing. My will would be bent beyond unreasonable repair and I would be the star of his show.  I stretched my arms across his broad stomach and thought back to my 23rd birthday a few weeks ago. He took me to the city. Michael knew I fancied it but not as much as our small suburban town with our quant apartment. That weekend we stayed at the Marriot he introduced the flogger. Since then he had used it several times. I felt him stir and I knew he was in his mindset. Opening my eyes I saw him smile again. He leaned forward and swept his hand underneath my chin. Pulling my face close to his I could smell his sweet musky skin and the slightest hint of cologne. My lips remained closed until I felt his soft velvet tongue part them. I was never much good at kissing but soon after we met he taught me. He said it was a must to be with him. Michaels tongue swirled around mine in lavish circles. Moving his hand up to my loosely curled chocolate colored hair he grabbed a handful. Breaking our kiss he stood up but still remained holding my hair with his right hand. Walking in front of me my heart skipped a beat. The wine was really working now and I felt the room spin. Slowly I heard his zipper. His left hand was fumbling inside of his pants and then I saw it. I never grew tired of my husbands cock. He slowly withdrew its full 7 inches and I blushed. He was currently in the process of teaching me to deep throat it. I saw a gleam of cum on the tip and instinctually I leaned over to taste it. Very salty it was, leaving a tingle in my mouth. Placing one hand on each side of my face he guided my mouth further onto his thick shaft. I felt each muscles in my face begin to relax until I fell into a gentle suckling motion. His stomach began to quiver and I heard a moan escape his lips. I started sucking more intently. Long strokes were the best for my mouth and I was pushing the head of his cock deeper in my throat than ever before. I felt him tighten his abdomen and I knew he was close. Just a few more sucks and he would explode into my mouth. I had never swallowed him before but there was something about his persistence tonight. He looked at me and I met his eyes, as clouded over as they were. I knew what he wanted. Then he came, my heart stopped beating but I kept sucking and swallowing. Load after load filled my cheeks and the hot fluid slid down my throat. When he was finally done he withdrew himself from my lips. Leaning over he picked up my half empty glass of Merlot and handed it to me. After a few gulps he sat down next to me and spoke. “Hand me my flogger, Elizabeth.”

I leaned across the table and took hold of it. I had never touched it before and instantly I felt a sense of grave submission. It was made of black leather and it had a set of nine straps emitting from it. Tiny silver studs were sporadically placed along the handle as if to provide a better grip. But what I noticed was the power that somehow mingled with the straps. It was a mere toy but it felt beyond its meaning. I looked up at him and held it in front of me in offering. Michael took it from me, never taking his eyes off mine. “How does it feel?” he said as he laid it down on one knee. Noticing I wasn’t sure what he meant he elaborated, “How does it feel to hold my flogger in your hand? The one I use to cause you your deepest pain and greatest ecstasy?” There was only one word I knew in my vocabulary that could answer his precise question. “It feels…” As if snapping me out of my trance the doorbell rang. Startled I jumped up to answer it, seeing as though I was fully dressed and he was not, but he touched my thigh, “Sit down, I will answer it darling.”

I began pouring myself some more wine when I heard a very distinct male voice coming from the hallway. It was my collage professor. “What is he doing here this time of night?” I thought to myself. I heard the front door close and lock as I headed back out into the living room. “Professor Stabenow brought this by for you. He said you left it in his classroom this evening.” I looked down at my neurophysiology book. That class was ridiculously hard; I was on the verge of dropping it because I knew I was failing it. I took the book and say it on the dining room counter. “Where were we?” “Disarming,” I said. “It feels disarming.” I watched as he walked closer to me. I felt his now chilly hands touch my hands. Lifting my khaki sweater over my head, I felt a chill from the winter air outside. “Take your position over the end of the couch!”

Spreading myself over the armrest, I felt my large breasts squish into the plush covering. I put my arms over my head. I felt the first crack his whip across my back and I sucked in a gasp of air. This was the first time he didn’t warm me up first. I didn’t know what to think. Before I knew it he exploded with a flourish of soft figure eight stroked in between my shoulder blades and I relaxed into the cushion. I could feel his intent through the specific area he was concentrating on and just as I started to drift into a comfortable spot I felt my brazier fly open. Shocked back into reality he stood back and looked at me. He had popped my bra open with the stroked of his whipping. Sitting back against the couch I slowly began to take the straps off my shoulders. Looking at his face I knew he was pleased at my display of confidence. Not so long ago he had to do some serious repair work to my self-esteem. I have never been the perfect size 6, and although I wasn’t fat, I certainly had some issues with the extra tuft of pouch on my stomach. Sitting cross legged in my a-line skirt with nothing to cover my top I felt more vulnerable, but watching him motion for me to take off my bottoms brought a smile to my face. Left in my flowery bikini cut black lace panties I was directed by my hair to roll back over on my stomach, this time on all fours. Pushing my head to the ground I felt another blow to me, is time on my exposed ass. The stinging gave quickly into an erotic song being played on me with the musician in perfect harmony with my beats. I barley noticed the stiffness in my legs when he lifted me up once again and carried me into our bedroom.

Laying me down on our fluffy comforter I noticed a small surgical table in the corner of the room. I was far more dazed and possibly at the hilt of my intoxication. Stretching out like a kitten on the king side bed I felt his strong fingers begin to massage my inner thighs. He began putting pressure on spots which decreased my ability to keep any modesty, so I just gave way and spread them far to each end of my bed. The massage continued up to my stomach and then my breasts. Never squeezing too hard I was the most relaxed I could be in his arms at that moment. I watched dazedly as he walked over to the table. He began to put on some gloves and then picked up something that shined in the candlelight. “Elizabeth, how long have we known each other?” he said in a very soothing voice.

“Three years.” I answered.

“And you have trusted and given your life over to me.”

“Yes.” I sighed.

He was back to my thighs again. Creeping up to my labia I felt him pulling on them. My left one and then my right one. Stretching them and pulling them, and then he slipped a gloved finger inside of my opening. I began to realize he wasn’t just fingering my lips; he was rubbing something on them. I began to feel a warm but numb feeling. The music in the living room was on a very slow and sensual song at this point and I had my eyes closed enjoying the feelings and sensations when I suddenly felt a sharp pain starting in my labia but quickly spreading to my stomach. My eyes shot open and I was stunned. My “ouch” was delayed but when I said it I jumped. “What did you do to me?” I said through a blur of alcohol. I looked down between my legs and saw it. A tiny gold ring on my right labia lip. I couldn’t believe it. There was some blood beginning to drip but the initial pain was starting to subside. It must have been the numbing agent. I looked up into my husband Michaels eyes. Tears sprang to mine. He knew I wanted to but I never had the courage. We had this conversation at least a dozen times. I had seen a picture on a website of a girl who had three rings on each side and a lock going through them, as if providing an improvised chastity device. Looking down again, I began to speak but he gently pushed me back onto the bed again. I knew that he was going to pierce the other lip and now I had a level of anxiety rushing through my veins. My thighs started shaking uncontrollably, but before I knew it I felt another sharp stinging pain and the other lip was done. Michael stood up and took off his surgical gloves.

About an hour later, after even more wine and a few aspirin for the sting the doorbell rang again. It was rounding 11pm and so I was thoroughly shocked for any visitors. This time Michael wanted me to open it. I was now comfortable in a bathrobe but with nothing underneath, I hesitated a bit. When Michael escorted me and stood behind I opened the door. “Mr. Stabenow, what are you doing back? Did I leave something else this evening?” He didn’t say anything, just pushed himself into the room and closed the door. “Ummm, Michael? What is going on?” Since I started class with Mr. Stabenow I had often joked with my husband about a minor crush I may have on him, but nothing ever serious. I watched, completely horrified as my professor began to take off his gloves and long black winter coat. Nothing was being said so I spoke again, “What is going on, honey?” I said looking into my husbands deep blue eyes. “Follow me,” he said referring to both myself and my professor. I walked behind my husband into our spare bedroom which we turned into an office. There were candles lit in that room too but the arrangement of furniture was different. Our blow up bed was in the middle of the floor and our plush armchair was in the corner of the room. I saw another table with various toys arranged in no particular order. I also saw our digital recorder. Instantly I knew what was going on. My husband had arranged with my professor some sort of scene. My intoxication had remained steady but mixed with the painkillers I was feeling extremely sexual. I thought about it for a moment and decided to go along with whatever my husband had planned.

“Take off your robe Elizabeth, and sit down on the bed.”

Following his order I did so. Then I proceeded to watch my professor undress in front of me. Just as I suspected, Michael sat in the corner of the room and started to turn on the camera. When my professor pulled out his cock it was already fully erect and for the first time I craved fucking another man other than my husband. Although I had been freshly pierced, the swelling had gone down a while ago and left a nice tingle in replace. Not sure what to do from here I looked back at my husband and when he gave the word I reached up and grabbed my professors erection. Coming to my knees I sucked it into my throat. I could hear Michael still fumbling with the camera equipment but my mind soon went blank and all I could think about was the burning in my clit. I hadn’t had an orgasm in days and right now I was already on the verge of exploding. Reaching over to the table I found a large pink dildo and jammed it into my wetness. I felt so guilty and greedy and that combination made me even more horny. Sucking his cock I felt a stream of pre cum flow into my mouth and although it wasn’t as sweet as my husbands, it tasted delicious. Pumping the dildo even harder and further up into my cunt I began to shudder. I knew this feeling, but it was coming all to quickly so I pulled out the dildo and threw it across the room. As if sensing my intense need I felt Michael’s hands grab my waist. My professor was lying on his back and I was on all fours sucking his organ when I felt Michaels prick stab at my opening. In one quick motion he entered me to my fullest. Moaning on the cock in my mouth I felt the beginning of my orgasm. At once the professor pulled out of my mouth and got behind me. Still on all fours I felt a finger rubbing the outside of my anus. Surprised at how my anus was opening I had a whole finger inside and never felt another starting to enter. My husband was fucking my pussy and I had two fingers in my anus. I grabbed Michael’s fingers and began to suck on them. Then I felt a new pressure in my ass. My professor had pushed his cock inside and now I felt an exploding pain as he started to rythemetically pump at a fast past. I was now full, completely full and the faster my husband rocked my pussy the faster my professor pumped my ass. My sucking increased to where I was almost devouring my husbands hand when he reached down and tugged on my rings. I felt him explode into a sticky frenzy in my cunt and then the warm liquid began to ooze out of my cunt lips. When my husband withdrew my professor pumped even harder which I was sure was ripping me from inside out, I reached under me and started circling my clit. It didn’t take too long for me to feel myself working up the orgasm when I felt his first ooze of cum in my ass. I rubbed my little bone harder and I knew I was on the verge, when he pulled out I flipped over on my back, spread my legs wide and rubbed my fingers back and forth so fast I began to squirt my husbands left over cum and my professors ass juice out of hole with such force it increased my orgasm 100 times over.