"Oh, Edward, I need you to cancel your dinner tonight. Marguerite and Luann want to come over for a girls night!" Joann's voice cut through Edward's thoughts like velvety steel.
"I can't cancel it, beloved," he replied, trying hard to keep the whine out of his voice. "These are big clients of ours. I need to make a good impression, and we already canceled last time because of your pool party."
"Oh, alright," she sighed sweetly, stepping forward. "Here, let's get you undressed. Would you like to have a little fun before your guests arrive?"
His cock was instantly hard. It had been so long since she'd allowed him to fuck her.
She leaned down as he laid back on the bed, scratching her fingernails over his naked chest. He arched, pressing himself to her touch, but she pulled back. "Here, have some soda, love." She pulled out a bottle from the small refrigerator beside their bed and poured a large glass. He drank a sip and set it aside. Suddenly, she rose up and squeezed his balls in a vice grip. He cried out. She immediately removed her hand and handed him the glass.
"Drink the soda," she ordered, all the kindness gone from her voice. He meekly gulped the sweet liquid and she refilled the glass. He was afraid to set it down, so he finished each glassful that she gave him. After the eighth glass, his stomach felt sick and swollen.
"Please," he begged, holding his stomach. "I am so full."
She reached down and twisted his balls again. He screamed and she laughed at him.
"Finish another while I undress," she commanded, handing him back his glass. He thought of his aching balls and forced himself to drink the ninth glass. She pushed him down on the bed.
"Stick out your tongue," she told him, and sat abruptly on his face.
Her soft, wet pussy pressed on his mouth somehow soothed him and he felt himself grow hard again as she slowly fucked herself on his tongue. She began to instruct him, sliding her clit on his tongue. It didn't take long for her to reach orgasm.
"Can I speak to you for a moment, Marguerite?" he asked from the kitchen.
She came in giggling.
"What are you doing?" he questioned her furiously as she poured wine into the glasses. "Why are you flirting with him?"
She laughed. "Have some wine, Edward. Stop being so uptight! I am trying to build you up to your client."
"I don't want any wine, Marguerite! I want you to stop being so familiar with that man!"
She stepped up to him, seductively rubbing her breasts back and forth against his chest. She backed him against the counter. He reached up, hesitantly petting one of her breasts. She slapped his face once, hard. "Drink the wine," she ordered, and he felt himself as helpless as before, a glass in his hand and his hard, neglected cock pressing hard against his pants. "You are mine, Edward. You promised me this long ago. I will do as I please."
He obediently forced himself to drink the wine while she watched silently. When he finished, she left him standing in the kitchen alone. Like a pet, he followed her.
They sat at the table as the cook brought dinner out on the table. Marguerite and Chenard talked and flirted as the meal continued. Edward was lost in thought until he felt a quick brush against his crotch from under the table. Startled he glanced up at his wife. She didn't seem to notice. He continued with his meal, soon feeling the touch again, this time more insistent. Glancing down, he realized it was Margeurite's foot. She was stroking him from across the table. He blushed, squirming in his seat as she continued.
Marguerite was oddly skilled with her feet. Soon Edward began to squirm in his seat, not sure whether to enjoy or be worried about this covert action.
"Something wrong, Edward?"Chenard asked, and he cursed the man for his inquiry.
"No, no. Perfectly fine," he replied, swallowing a gasp.
The meal seemed to take an eternity, her feet moving torturously in his lap. It was so hard to keep himself from losing control. It had been so long... so long. His bladder was aching and his cock was throbbing. Halfway through the meal, she took her foot away. He felt trapped inside his needs. He sneaked his hand down and began to play with himself as inconspicuously as possible.
"Edward, clear the table," Marguerite ordered. Her voice interrupted his quiet pleasure.
He looked at her incredulously. She had teased him to an unfathomable height, then he wanted her to get up from the table in this state of arousal? When he paused, she pressed her foot hard against his aching bladder. He wheezed a little and got up to follow her command.
M. Chenard stared at him.
"Funny, I've never found supper particularly arousing," Chenard said, nodding toward Edwards raging erection showing clearly through the pants.
Marguerite turned. "Edward! You are a horrible man! Masturbating yourself at the table!"
"But...but you...!" He realized as she rose from her seat that it was useless to argue. Somehow he'd found himself stuck between two people who could control him.
"You will be punished, you sick little boy!" Marguerite announced. "And because you have disgraced yourself in front of M. Chenard, he will be here to witness your punishment."
Chenard looked smug, seeming to enjoy the scene before him.
"Go to the room, strip to your panties, and return quickly," she said, and he knew that this undue punishment would be worse than anything he'd endured. When he returned, wearing nothing but a pink, frilly thong, M. Chenard and Marguerite had gone into the living room. He entered and knelt before her as he knew she would require.
"Look at you, you pathetic little slut. You can't control yourself. I have to control everything you do. You can't even eat supper without touching your boring little cock. Even now it is hard. You want to fuck, don't you?"
He was silent, hoping his submissive posture would keep her from continuing. It was not so.
"Don't you!?" she raged. "You would give anything to stick your little stick inside my hot sweet hole. Measly little boy."
"Yes," he whispered.
She walked over, pushing him into a sitting position, she began to stroke his cock through his panties. He moaned, staring at her beautiful hand.
"But I already told you you're to be punished. Get me the paddle."
He scurried back to her, paddle in hand.
"You will receive 25 licks with this paddle. After each one, I want you to count it and ask me to hit you again. Do you understand?"
He nodded and bent over. The first smack felt like fire. Marguerite was a strong woman, beautifully fit, and it did not tire her to wield with considerable force.
"One. Please spank me again, ma'am."
At times the paddle landed uncomfortable on the back of his hanging ball sack and he groaned in pain and pleasure. His bladder burned in his bent position and even through his spanking, he felt the strong need to relieve himself.
Finally, she was finished. She pushed him to kneel. "I bet you wish you could pee, don't you, Edward?" she asked him, glancing at Chenard. She reached down, pressing hard on his stomach. He moaned. "Please," he whispered.
She laughed. He heard Chenard snicker.
"Well, instead, you are going to suck M. Chenard's cock while he licks my pussy. How would you like that, Edward?"
He was humiliated. She knew how he loved the feel of his lips wrapped around a smooth, hard cock. He had unwisely confessed this to her once. But this was a business man! Someone he was supposed to be important to! He knew he had no choice in the matter. He could not stop this man from touching his wife and he could not stop himself, either.
Dutifully, he shuffled forward to accept Chenard's waiting member as Marguerite giggled, pressing her wet cunt against the upturned mouth...
To Be Continued...