Nathan Silvers
Chained slave wife
CHAPTER ONE
Sylvia Kern heard the crunch of the tires on the gavel. Patrick, her husband was home. She felt her pussy convulse, and she glanced hurriedly round the room to make sure everything was in its place. The lighting was soft and seductive, the ropes were out if he wanted to use them, and the padded bench was in place in the center of the carpet. She heard him open the front door.
"Hi honey," she called.
"Hi," he shouted. "Any coffee on?"
"Yes, the pot's on the stove."
She waited breathlessly while she heard him clinking mugs and opening the refrigerator. It was only a few minutes, but to her it seemed like hours before he opened the bedroom door and came in. Patrick was tall, over six feet, and his muscular body had stayed firm for the ten years of their marriage. Instantly he knew what was on her mind, and he grinned, tossed his jacket over a chair and sat down in another chair, eyeing Sylvia as she got up off the bed and paraded slowly into the middle of the room.
"Did you have a nice evening with John?" she asked sliding a hand slowly into the opening of her long robe.
"Well, the poor fucker's really in a mess," said Patrick, easing back in the chair and stretching his legs. "It's that bitch of a wife of his." He grinned again and yawned, taking a gulp of his coffee. "Apparently, she's dressing up in all this seductive gear and turning him on, then pulling away and treating him as if he's some kind of sex fiend and should be locked up. The poor bastard's jerking off for relief."
"You know what she needs," said Sylvia, so taken with the idea she stopped running her hands over her body. "How about we get them to take a weekend with us and Cindy and Hank? At the cabin? That would break her in. And Cindy said they've got a new slave you've just got to fuck. How about that?"
Patrick gazed at his wife for a few seconds. "Worth a try," he said. "Ill call Hank in the morning."
"Good," said Sylvia and moved closer to him. "I hope you're ready." She began opening the top of her robe. "I was a really bad girl today."
"Uh-huh," said Patrick, feeling his cock already stiffening in his pants.
"Yes," said Sylvia softly, opening her robe the rest of the way and dropping it on the floor. "A really bad girl."
After all these years, Patrick still gasped as she stood there. Her long wavy brunette hair flowed over her shoulders and her blue eyes were wide with expectation and desire. But it was the fact that Sylvia wore her schoolgirl uniform that really turned Patrick on. She was hot. She really wanted it tonight. The white, low-cut blouse just covered the lower half of her thrusting tits, and the dark-blue straps of her schoolgirl dress just ran over the nipples, keeping them hidden from view. The pleated skirt stopped well short of her knees, flaring out over her taut ass cheeks. Below the dress were her white stockings, matching the blouse and outlining a pair of legs that begged to be stretched open. The high heels she wore accentuated those legs to the point that Patrick wanted to leap out of the chair and ram his cock into her pussy right away, but he restrained himself. He had some work to do first.
"So you were a bad girl, were you?" he asked.
"Oh, yes sir," she whispered, sounding as if she were terrified. "I was a very bad girl, sir." She gasped at the thought and ran her hands over the short skirt, easing it up as she caressed her thighs.
"So what did you do?" asked Patrick, rubbing his cock in his pants.
"I watched a dirty movie, sir," said Sylvia softly, her voice trembling, her hands on her waist and running up to the swelling mounds of her tits.
"I see," said Patrick.
"And I… I made myself come, sir, while I watched it," said Sylvia.
"That is certainly a very bad girl," agreed Patrick. He sat up a little in the chair. "We shall have to punish you very severely for that."
"Yes, sir, you must," Sylvia gasped, her fingers now opening the top button of her blouse and slipping wantonly in to pinch her hard nipples.
"Take my shoes and socks off," Patrick ordered.
Willingly Sylvia came forward, knelt at his feet and slipped his casuals off. Then she took his socks off and toned them aside.
"My shin, girl," Patrick ordered.
"Oh, yes, sir," Sylvia whispered.
Slowly she worked her hands up his strong body, running them over the stiff cock-bulge in his pants, then over his chest until she was at the open neck of his shirt. She half stood, nuzzling her lips into his neck as her fingers rapidly opened his shirt and pulled it out of the waistband of his pants.
"Did I tell you to kiss me?" he snapped.
"Oh, sorry, sir."
Sylvia pulled his shirt away and then, on the next order, she knelt again and pulled the zipper of his pants down, opening the button reaching in for his prick. She moaned at the hardness and strength of his cock, pulling it to her hot slick lips.
"Did I tell you to suck my cock?" Patrick asked, his voice full of menace.
"Oh, no, sir, no you didn't," Sylvia said, her voice cracking as she moaned again and licked at the tip of his prick.
"Take my pants off and leave my cock alone," he said.
"Please, sir – let me suck it, just a bit more," Sylvia begged, her tongue flicking over his cock, her hands on his balls.
"If you don't stop at once, I'll start counting, and you get one extra stroke of the whip for each number."
Patrick leaned back, in the chair and slowly counted to ten. Sylvia kept going crazy on his cock. She was even hotter than he had thought. In fact, she was going to bring him off at any moment.
"Oh, please, sir," she begged. "Please let me suck you off sir. I was such a bad girl. Then you must whip me till you're hard again and then have me anyway you want. Please, sir." She ran her open mouth down the length of his cock until she was licking his balls and her fingers ran up and down his rock-hard fucker. "Please, sir? I'll be such a good girl."
"This is your last chance," he said. "If your mouth goes over my cock once more, that's exactly what you'll get."
With a groan of utter lust, Sylvia worked her mouth back up his cock and took it deep into her mouth again.
Patrick got to his feet and pulled her onto his throbbing prick. His hands wound themselves in her hair and he held her close, letting her mouth work inches on and off his cock. Sylvia murmured deep in her throat and her hands went down to her pussy, sliding inside her panties and working the clit. Patrick threw his head back and pulled her willing mouth right onto his cock, fucking it into her throat.
"Oh, shit!" he shouted, pulling at her hair until his cock was in her mouth to the balls.
"Suck me, you little whore." He began pulling his prick out, watching as she took in air with great heaving sobs and licked over the head of his prick while she hung onto the prickshaft as if for dear life. Sylvia leaned in, her hair still in his grasp, letting him ram home again until she could feel his cock fucking in and out of her throat. She let her throat muscles work on his cock, tightening, then releasing.
"Shit, am I gonna whip your ass," he snarled.
"Whip it until I'm hard enough again to fuck it. Fuck that ass of yours, when it's still red and throbbing. Make you scream, you little whore, make you scream!"
"Oh, yes, sir – yes, I deserve it, I was so bad today," she gasped. "Oh, come in my mouth, please come in my mouth."
"Suck," he said, and pulled her in again. The soft red lips surrounded his cock tightly, forming a perfect circle as her wicked tongue started to work the underside of his cock shaft and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. "That's right, you bitch."
Sylvia's hand went back down to her cunt, but Patrick saw her do it.
"Get that hand back on my cock," he ordered. "You come by sucking me, or you don't come, bitch."