Our Daughter's Friend Ch. 04bytoomuchinmyhead©
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Fantasy fiction of a married couple and their newfound submission to a younger girl. Probably the last of the series. Thanks to all who stayed with the series, and to all my readers. Apologies for the delay in getting chapter three posted. I submitted it Jan 6. The Lit crew rejected it for a reason that didn't actually exist. I think maybe they got it mixed up with another story. So I had to resubmit.
If this is your first read in the series, it might stand alone, but you might want to check out 1-3 for the background.
The next morning we went to see Rosie, and spent the weekend with her, going shopping, dining, meeting her friends, her regular friends. We did not see Desiree anymore that weekend, but the events of the first night had altered my relationship with my wife again. For the months after the first incident, at our house, when my wife first submitted to her, we had not spoken, regarding each other politely in front of our daughter and in public, but not communicating otherwise. Alone with Rosie for the two days we were compelled to converse, and it seemed that the extreme events of the recent night with Desiree had broken down a barrier between us. We no longer forced our conversation. Mentally and emotionally, we were connected, bonded together.
I relished the time with my daughter, although several times during the weekend I had flashes of the threat Desiree had made, of turning her into a willing sub like her mother, and each time I silently committed that I would never allow that to happen, no matter what unspeakable acts I needed to commit. But further inside I knew that there was no danger of turning against Our Mistress. Unwilling and resistant at first, I had experienced the power of control as well as being controlled, and I recognized my desire to continue in that vein.
Performing the humiliating sexual acts in front of her group of friends had been oddly liberating. I had survived, and allowed myself to enjoy being told what to do, and to enjoy doing it. I began to understand my wife's willingness to submit, but still struggled with her need to be for it. Then later, commanding my wife to do things had been empowering, feeding my ego and my libido. I wanted more of both, and knew that I would never disobey Desiree again.
Late Sunday afternoon we said goodbye to Rosie and got back in the car to begin the long ride home. With rest stops we were looking at eight or nine hours on the road. On the way up, things had been tense between us, but they seemed more relaxed as we got on the highway and headed for home. We spent the first twenty miles or so in silence, but without the tension that had sat like a third passenger on the way up, threatening to tear us apart. Instead we each were lost in our own thoughts, mulling over what had happened, and how we felt about it.
Monica broke the silence first. She had been sitting against the door, gazing dreamily out the window, and then suddenly turned and reached to me, resting her hand on my leg. "I love you," she said, and any remaining animosity evaporated.
I put my hand over hers. "I love you, too, Mon." I told her. And I meant it, despite my memory of the feelings I'd had when I forced her to shove her tongue up my ass. Those feelings still existed; I still held her responsible for getting us into this situation, but I was less hostile about it. My submission to Desiree's commands had created a bond between us; we had shared the experience of giving ourselves over to someone else. And something about surrendering to my baser instincts with my wife had repaired and cemented the love I felt for her. And Our Mistress had again commanded me to control her, to use her in Desiree's absence. And I knew that I would, as much as I recognized that I wanted to, and that Monica needed and desired me to use her that way.
Our profession of our love for each other had right-set our relationship to each other. Those simple words, spoken in honesty, said so much more, as they always had since before we were married. They said we accepted each other, would do for each other completely, not halfway but all the way. We each would live for the other, even to the exclusion of ourselves, safe and confident that neither would request that of the other.
Our relationship had changed, but it was still love that I felt. It would be expressed differently from now on, but it was love, just the same. Another few minutes of silence went by.
"Thank you," she said.
"For going along. For joining in, for not being mad." She paused. "For everything. It...means a lot to me."
"I really didn't have much choice," I told her. I related the story of the video, and the threat of what could happen to Rosie. I told her that I would never let that happen, and would do whatever I needed to prevent it. There was silence again as the news settled in.
"Can I ask you something?" she asked after a while, turning in her seat, and smiling nervously.
"Of course," I answered, and again, a simple exchange let us know that we were okay, not just as individuals, but as a couple again.
"Was that all? Was it just the threat?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it's just that you, uh-m, well, you seemed...not forced." I waited, sensing there was more. "You seemed to be, well...kind of enjoying yourself?" she said, he voice rising in question as she finished the sentence.
"You mean at the end? Yeah, I admit, I liked that."
"No. Before. All of it, really. You seemed, I don't know, different. Like you liked what she made you do, like it excited you."
"I think you saw how hard I was."
"Yes, who could miss that," she quipped, and giggled a little. I laughed with her. "But that's not what I mean. I knew you were aroused. But you felt more, uh-m, enthusiastic, I guess is the word." She paused. "More into it, when you were, uh-m, doing it."
"You mean when I sucked another man's cum off your dildo, and licked it out of your pussy?" I stated boldly, seeing no need for the dainty word dance.
"Three, actually, but yeah, that."
"Yes, three of them came in my pussy," she said, then added, just as matter-of-factly, "The fourth one came in my ass."
There was silence again while I digested that, although it really came as no surprise, having seen the video. She had always avoided anything anal, and I had never really tried. I guessed that had changed, now.
"Well, truth be told, yes. It's weird, you know? She made me watch you on video letting those guys fuck you in your mouth and pussy, and then your pussy and ass," I explained. "That got me aroused, even though my brain was telling me it was wrong, and vile." I chuckled. "Although YOU seemed to be enjoying yourself!" She laughed lightly. "But then she walked me up the stairs with my dick out, past people, and made me meet her friends." I told her about thanking them, and tried to describe the humiliation and shame, and then seeing her, giving the people a show, watching her, having them watch me, knowing I was her husband. "It kind of got to me, being in that position; I got excited being humiliated. So by the time she made me suck the cum off your dildo, I WANTED to do it." I stopped, thinking for a second. "Does that make sense?"
"Oh, believe me, I know just how you feel," she agreed.
"I guess that's true," I told her, "although I don't feel it the way you do, I think." I thought for a second. "It's still a little hard for me to understand, you know, your need for it. The way you crave it." I glanced over at her, and her head was down. I think she was blushing. "It's funny," I said, "how I never knew; you never told me."
"Are you angry about that?"
"A little, I think. That you held that from me."
"I was afraid to tell you. A little ashamed of it, I think," she admitted. "I didn't know if you could handle it. Hell," she added, "I didn't know if I could handle it." She paused. "You were angry last time."
"Yeah, that's true," I said. "And maybe you were right, that I couldn't handle it. I didn't understand it enough, I guess. But after this weekend, sucking the cum from your pussy in front of those people -- you know what really did it for me? When the guy said it was his, knowing that he was watching me suck HIS cum out of you. I think that was the kicker, for me. It was so humiliating, but so exciting, giving up my control, being forced to do something so nasty, so dirty, while they watched and ridiculed me." I grinned and glanced at Monica; she was looking at me with wonder and maybe admiration. "So I got a better understanding of how you feel."
"You handled the other part well too, you know."
"What, the dominating you? Fuck, that was wild. Better, I think, because she was making me do it, like I still had no control, so it was okay to treat you rough, to use you. Because I had given myself over to her, and she wanted me to use you like that." I stopped, and waited, and then decided to push a little further, to test my command ability away from Our Mistress. "You're a dirty slut, Monica. Letting all those boys fuck you, fucking yourself and letting them watch. Saying those dirty things, begging your Mistress to fuck you in front of me." I glanced at her quickly, and she lowered her head. "Did I leave anything out, you dirty obedient slut?"
"I licked the ladies cunts; they made me." She was slipping into submissive mode, her voice had taken an obedient tenor. The change, while it was what I had hoped would happen, was so sudden it was a little unnerving.
"But you liked it, didn't you; just the way you liked the rest."
"Yes, very much," she said softly.
"I know you liked it when I stuffed my balls in your mouth. And you liked putting your tongue in my ass, didn't you?"
"Y-yes. Yes I did."
"Did what, you slut?"
"I liked licking your ass, Sir."
Nice. "Good. Because I enjoyed making you do it. And you were really good at it, too." I took another glance, and she was beaming at the praise. "It felt so good to jerk off with your tongue up my ass. You were fantastic."
"Thank you, Sir."
I let her wait a few minutes before I spoke again. "Mistress Desiree told me that she has instructed you to obey me."
"Yes, Sir," she answered, quietly, but with eagerness. "Yes, from the beginning."
"But I didn't do what she told me, then," I told her. "I didn't understand, then. I still don't; not completely, but I understand better now. So I WILL follow her instructions from now on."
She exhaled, then; almost a sigh of relief. "I am so happy to hear you say that." She wasn't speaking in her submissive 'Sir' voice now, but just as Monica. It was odd, hearing her switch back and forth, and it reinforced the fact that it wasn't two people, but two aspects of the same person.
"I'll bet you are," I said lewdly, misreading her answer.
"No, not like that," she interrupted, then added tentatively, "So I won't have to tell on you again."
There was silence in the car for a few minutes, before I took a deep breath and blew out and exasperated sigh. "Well," I said, "I guess I am glad for that. But as much as I appreciate your 'situation' a little better now, I am still angry about the lying and dishonesty." This wasn't Dom/sub or sex talk, this was married couple communications, and I wondered if a day would come where that line would not be there anymore, that it would all seem the same. "You betrayed my trust. You told me you were with me, and went behind my back and told her everything."
"I know, I'm sorry for that, I really am. But she said I had to, and wouldn't let me tell you."
"I know, she explained it all to me." I shook my head slowly. "The crazy part is that now that we're here, in this, uh-m, 'arrangement', I am not upset by being here as much as how we GOT here," I told her. "It was your 'inclination' that started this with Desiree, and then your need to please her that prevented us from getting away from her." I snorted derisively. "All the understanding, and getting used to the idea, and enjoying it notwithstanding," I told her, "I hold you responsible for allowing this to happen." I lowered my voice a little, reassuming my new 'commanding' tone. "From time to time, I will remind you of that."
"I know," she replied softly.
"I will make you do things, awful things," I told her, "Our Mistress requires it. But I will enjoy it, too."
"She told me to obey you," she said, then added, "Sir."
"What else did she tell you?"
"She told me," she said softly, but with pride and clarity, "that I must eat all of your cum, not matter where you shoot it."
My desire to dominate her conflicted with my newfound attraction to be submissive. "That's very good," I said. "Do you know what she told me?" Not waiting for an answer. "She told me that I must continue to have other men use you," I confessed, "and that I must eat all of their cum." I felt my face heat with embarrassment at the memory of licking her cunt clean of the residue of three men.
"That's nasty, Carl. But you like it, don't you?"
"Yes," I admitted shamefully. "I think I do." My voice returned to normal, my husband voice. "It's a little scary, you know," I began. "We have done some things that are so far outside what I would consider 'normal', you know, regular sex. Things we would have considered perverted and disgusting, before."
"Yes," she grinned wistfully, "we have."
"And we will do more," I added. "My imagination is running wild with ideas for what I will make you do, and what I must do," I continued. "Some of them scare me, and disgust me, but strangely, I am looking forward to doing them."
"Me, too," she replied.
My dick was growing in my pants as visions of debasing my lovely wife ran through my head. We drove in silence together for the next hour or so, my erection growing and receding as I imagined abusing her, and stretching our boundaries, and wondering why these ideas that would have been so repugnant a few months before were so alluring now.
Eventually we got hungry, and looked for a place to stop and eat. I passed a few, then pulled in at a place with a larger parking lot. I pulled towards the back, making sure that we were visible, but not near anyone, and that there were no families or children in view. I got out, stretched my legs, and Monica did the same.
"Not yet," I called to her as she began walking up to the Food Court. "Come over here." I had parked with the driver's side facing away from the Food Court. I didn't want my first attempt at solo command to result in police action, but I wanted her visible; this side faced the truck entrance from the highway. I opened the back door and sat sideways, with my legs outside. Monica looked in at me curiously. Her interest grew as I reached for my belt and opened my pants.
"Get down on your knees," I told her, tossing her a pillow from the back seat. I opened my pants and pulled them down past my knees as she lowered herself in front of me at the side of the car. "Suck my cock." Thinking about doing this had made me hard already, and as my briefs cleared my crotch Monica's head was already there, her mouth opening, and I felt her wet lips take the head of my cock into her mouth.
I watched her bob up and down, wetting my shaft, and felt her begin to suck on the up stroke. She was grunting and showing the enthusiasm I had seen in the video, more than I had ever experienced before, other than that first time with Desiree. As she sucked me off, I talked to her.
"That's it, you dirty submissive , fill your mouth with my cock. You love sucking cock, don't you? I saw you in the video, sucking that boy's dick, letting everyone see you. And now you do it here, in public, where any truck driver coming in can see your head in my lap. They will all know you're a dirty cocksucker."
She groaned in response, and increased her pace. She was getting off on her public display, and I was getting off on making her do it.
"Slower now, Pet," I advised, and she pulled off.
"I am not your Pet, Sir," she said, a string of drool hanging from her bottom lip, her chin wet with her saliva. "I am Mistress Desiree's Pet. I do whatever she says. She said to obey you, but I am not your Pet." The definition seemed to matter to her.
"Fine, then. You are her Pet." I clenched my fingers in her hair. "What are you to me?"
"Your wife, of course," she said plainly, then smiled a little as my hand tightened in her hair. "And when you want, I am Your Slut." Once again I could hear the importance of the title as she spoke the words.
"All right, then, Slut," I said, pulling her head down." I want it slower and deeper." She opened her mouth and I helped her push her head down until I heard her cough and gag, then released her. Her head came up and a thick strand of whitish saliva hung from her mouth. "Yes, that's it, Slut," I repeated, hearing the title in my own voice now, and beginning to understand the importance of it. "Take it deep, push it into your throat for me." She went back down, this time without my hand pushing, and made herself gag." I felt the head of my cock massaged by her clenching muscles. It was incredible!
"Oh, yeah, That's the way, all the way in. Let those truck drivers see you press your mouth all the way down!" I encouraged. "Show them what a good Slut you are, how much you love to suck cock, how you love it deep in your mouth, choking you!"
She pulled her head up, gasping for air, taking huge breaths as gobs of drool fell from her mouth, down her chin, landing on her shirt. It was disgusting and nasty, and incredibly erotic. Her eyes had teared, and her makeup was running a little.
"Again, all the way this time," I told her, and I watched her eyes light with a fire of passion. "Then you can have my cum." She smiled.
"Yes, Sir," she said, and dove back down, forcing her head onto me, and I felt my cock head press against the back of her mouth, and then push past as she gagged, and her lips touched the base and I felt her tongue at my balls even as she coughed and blew a wad of sputum into my pubic hair. She held it, then shook her head, and then pulled off, gasping and coughing, spit flying from her mouth as she stroked my slicked shaft.
She looked desperate and abused and elated and proud, and I felt a thrill run up my spine at the power I had over her, the power to extend her boundaries, to command her, to free her from resistance.
"Make me cum, now, Slut, earn your reward." She took a few breaths and gripped my cock in her spit-soaked fingers, and began blowing and jerking me off, using her hand and mouth together. The power trip and the excitement of the moment, combined with her aggressive sucking and stroking brought me to the edge quickly, and I held it, clenching my muscles, refusing the release until I could hold back no more. I bellowed, and felt the first blast launch into her mouth, and heard her moan with delight and satisfaction as her mouth filled with my hot semen, blast after blast shooting up my shaft. My legs shook and my hips launched off the seat, but she hung on, not releasing me from her mouth until my legs unclenched and I relaxed and finished spurting.
She raised her head, making a sucking noise as her lips left my cock, still in her hand. She looked at me with victory in her eyes.
"That was very good, Slut," I told her, and her face softened at the praise. "Did you swallow it?"
She shook her head, lips tightly closed.
"Show me." She opened her mouth, and her tongue swam in a pool of cum. She extended it, coated with the slick fluid, then pulled it back when a drip fell off, running down her chin to land on her shirt.
"You may swallow," I told her, and she did. My sweet little wife, mother of our daughter, whom I had shared normal marital relations for so many years, had just given me a public blowjob, deep-throated my cock, and swallowed my cum. And as she finished, she knelt proudly before me, her chin wet with cum and saliva, and several wet spots on her shirt.