Anne's Fantasy... or Mine?

I reveled in the sight, so much that I could not help but jerk fiercely at my bonds, swaying my erection in absolute frustration.

The women kept kissing and cuddling each other until finally they got to their feet, both of their groins now smeared with the remains of Dan's cum. Hand in hand they seated themselves on the couch next to him and started to sip wine. I looked down upon their naked bodies while my stretched out armpits began to hurt me more and more.

But then I became aware what they were discussing... and to my abhorrence I grasped that all this fucking among themselves, had only been a warm-up. That way they would enjoy even more my fear for what they were going to do...

Ruth was the first to step forward, a short vicious-looking bullwhip in hand. Anne had risen too and came to my side. She put a calming hand on my trembling thigh, as if to comfort me.

"John, darling," she said, smiling up to the fear in my eyes, "please try to think of the delight you are going to give us when we start to whip you."

"I can't..." I blabbered behind the panties in my mouth. But only garbled sound came out. I wanted to say: "I'm so afraid... I'll do anything you want, I'll suck you, I'll suck Ruth, I'll even suck Dan, but please don't whip me..." But I could not. So to my utter shame and humiliation I started to cry right in front of these three nude tormentors. But Anne went on soothing me, which no doubt increased her pleasure.

"Oh, dear lover of mine," she said, "cry if you must. I want you to. It's so enjoyable to see tears in your eyes. You're doing fine." Seeing that my crying did not stop, she rubbed it in further with the mirth of a real sadist.

"We all love you, John," she said, "You should be grateful for that, but we love even more to hurt you." She pointed to the whip Ruth, as naked and beautiful as she herself, held in her hand.

"I'd love that thing to wash you in pain," she said. "Think of the pleasure that would give me. And it won't last that long, dear. We have our limits. Whipping can be tiresome for us too."

She smiled at me, like a mother fortifying her little anxious boy. I made an effort to smile at her through my tears, but it didn't work. My stomach cramped in fear.

"Well then, my love," Anne continued, seeing that my despair did not diminish, "dance for us and scream your lungs out through those panties we put in your mouth."

She then started to carefully caress my balls and my limp member, putting a kiss on it. But the thing had shrunk to a flaccid little pouch and the kiss didn't revive it. Then Anne's fine body stretched out long, her breasts with their large hard nipples softly grazing me, and she wiped my stern off its sweat and tears.

"Come on John, give us a good show."

I became desperate. "NOOO!" I attempted to cry. But only muffled noises came forth from behind the cloth stuffed in my mouth.

Then, for a moment I thought Anne might be showing pity on me, because she asked: "Want me to be the first to whip you?" It gave me the smallest sliver of hope. Anne is my wife for life, the most cherished lover I ever had. She would be more merciful than the others. So I nodded, tears again streaming down my cheeks.

I should have known better....

Anne stepped back after Ruth had reluctantly handed her the whip. She took it greedily, and immediately heaved it high in the air over her head, her eyes sparking with joy.

With a resounding whack it smacked straight across my chest. Pain flared like flames before my eyes, and I heard myself scream behind my gag. "Come on little prick" I heard Anne say, as she paused and looked intensely at my crotch "You should stand a bit further up for us, your owner should enjoy this as much as I do." And without waiting she swung the whip high again...

It landed right on my balls!!

I screamed out in horrible agony. The two on the couch applauded. Anne's face now shone with the violent lust of boundless sadistic pleasure. As I swayed before her, jerking my legs, crying and howling behind my gag, she cruelly smiled at me. I didn't know she had such a beast inside.

The whip curled up again, and again it hit my balls, almost like a castrating knife. I had no air to scream again. But even so I somehow did. It made Anne look extremely happy. Then she hit me once again between my legs. And again... and again! The pain became a blazing inferno, ravaging everything around my groin.

"That's better!" I heard Anne's voice over my own screams. I didn't understand what she meant, but glancing down between my tears, I noticed with astonishment that my prick had become hard and rigid, swaying dark red in the air.

"Very good!" I heard Dan's baritone voice cry out. "He's enjoying it. Good work Anna." He got up as Anne handed him the whip while, in sexual ecstasy, she groped for her own crotch with her other hand.

The break gave me a brief respite. But the prospect of Dan's muscled body approaching, made me wildly shake my head. He showed no mercy. Within seconds the whip curled angrily around me, to smack its tip in the flesh of my left buttock. It wasn't as bad at being slashed into my balls, as my dear wife had just done, but still I cried out. Soon Dan had completely striped my belly, back, and buttocks, the tip of his whip occasionally curling around my thighs to hit the base of my still proudly waving member. And soon also, my screams were exhausted. All I could produce now were rasping howls each time the whip bit me again from behind. Anne had fallen back into the couch. Through a curtain of tears I saw how she reached another orgasm, both her hands inside her thighs.

And all this time Ruth has been standing next to her husband. She was awed by what she'd been given to watch.

"Oh my God!' she yelled, "he's a masochist, he's a real subbie, look at that pecker of his. He's enjoying his pain," and she grabbed the whip from her husband. I didn't know what to make of her exclamations. I'm not a masochist and the pain was atrocious. But my dick showed a life of its own. I hated it. I hated the humiliation of it. But I could do nothing about it.

Soon it was Ruth who was dancing around me with that black bullwhip, striking my helpless nudity wherever it could still find unmarred skin, and by now I was sure to be bleeding all over. The soaring pain overpowered me like a life threatening tsunami in furious colors. The screams that tried to escape from behind my gagged throat, had changed to burst of raw rasping, and tears flowed abundantly down my face, flying in all directions, thrown off into the air by my wildly shaking head.

I could not hold out further. The world became black.

When I opened my eyes. I was lying on the carpet, with Anne next to me, softly caressing my face. Still floating on clouds of pain, I realized that they must have cut that hated rope on which I had hung. How long I had been lying there I don't know, but I saw Ruth and Dan both still stark naked, eating grapes on the couch. I tried to lift my body to a sitting position, but couldn't do it. My whole frame ached and I discovered that they had now bound my hands behind my back. But Anne helped. Although scarred badly, covered by dark blue and red bruises, and still in considerable pain, I tried to inspect my body. And to my relief I found that it was indeed in bad shape, but nowhere bleeding.

Then I noticed the three plates with remains of a meal, lying around me on the floor.

"Hungry, my love?" That was Anne's concerned voice. I looked at her. She too was still naked and she smiled. I didn't know what to answer, even though they had removed the panties from my mouth.

"Eat, John, I want you to eat a little. We already had our meal." I shook my head. "I'm not hungry." My voice was unrecognizably hoarse. "Doesn't matter, my love," Anne said, "I just want you to eat. Come on, there is still enough on those plates and I don't feel like doing the dishes." Saying that, she grabbed my hair and pushed my face down onto one of the dirty platters.

"Eat!"

And again I knew I had no option. There were chicken bones with a little meat left on them, a small lump of mashed potato, and some unrecognizable greens. All cold. I tried to eat without using my hands. With Anne's hands still pushing at the back of my head I succeeded in licking the plate more or less clean, apart of course from the chewed off chicken bones. With some remains of the food stuck to my face, a second plate was shoved under my nose, and after that the third one. Anne's imperative hands were replaced by Dan's foot, pressing me down into the mess.

My maltreated body still hurt badly. Nobody spoke. It seemed they were all watching me.

After I finished, a shallow bowl with water was passed to me and finally I could drink and wet my dry mouth, lapping up the water like the dog they wanted me to be. Once finished I was allowed to sit on my knees, with the three of them still sitting on the couch before me, munching on a few last grapes. Anne smiled at me. "Thank you John," she said, "now for the desert."

It was only then that I noticed that Ruth was busy with a hand job on her husband. He looked me straight in the eyes and ordered: "Come over here and finish your meal!"

I moved on hands and knees. I had become their slave. They had broken me. They had aroused me hugely by forcing me to watch their pleasures, hanging naked and helpless before them, then they had taken my pain for their sadistic enjoyment, and finally they had debased me by having me eat and drink like a dog. I had no resistance left. I had been trained to complete obedience.

He was big and his hairy reeking balls, hanging flaccidly below his spread thighs, swayed against my chin, as his hands forced my head up and down with my mouth over his flagpole. The smell was repugnant and I had to restrain myself from using my teeth in pure fear of punishment. I almost threw up when he finally emptied himself into my mouth with thick nauseating spurts of seed. It even came out of my nose. For a long time he held my head imprisoned as he kept pulsating his muck into me. And above his exclamations, I heard Ruth yell at me in concert with Anne: "Drink it Johnny... drink his yoghurt...!"

When he finally released me, he looked at me with hard, domineering eyes, and silently gestured me to go to the women sitting aside him.

Both Anne and Ruth laughed at my mortified face as I crawled to them on all fours, with drips of slime still hanging from my chin. Then, invitingly, they both opened their thighs...

FOUR

Much later.

Waking up in our warm bed with Anne, although with my hands tied to the headboard, I blissfully enjoyed her lovely fingers milking me to ecstasy. She stopped just before I peaked, just before my balls contracted. Teasing me, increasing my longing for her.

She likes to keep me on the edge, keep me wanting her.

Anne laughed, wiping her hands on our sheet from the few drops of my pre-cum. She released my bonds and we embraced immediately. I felt so happy, that I cried like a child in her arms. She smiled down upon me and whispered, "Shsh..., Shsh..., don't cry my love... I'm so delighted with you..." She tried to dab my tears and when I finally looked up at her, she said: "go fetch me breakfast. Maybe after that I'll let you fuck me."

I jumped out of bed, immediately wanting to please her. While I hurried towards the door of our bedroom, I felt something against my throat. Looking at our mirror I saw that Anne had given me a present. After gazing at her reflection, as she lay lazily in our bed, smiling at me, I saw the studded leather dog collar she must have fixed around my neck while I slept. Close to my throat was a thick metal ring, obviously to clip on a leash. The ring carried a thin gleaming metal tag. I tried to read, mirror inverted, what was written on it.

It said 'Fido'.

Once back upstairs in our bedroom I carefully put the breakfast tray on the nightstand at Anne's side, and then moved myself under the covers. Cozily lying against her, I started licking her face.

"Good dog," she said smiling, "good Fido," and contently she patted my head.

I love her more than ever.