Best Friends

"What the fuck is this?"

"Come in boy and shut the door."

Ryan slammed the door shut and stalked forward. He stopped when Randy stood.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I am her husband's best friend."

"Yeah, so what?."

Ryan looked down at Pat.

"What is this? Are you ok?. What happened to your face? Is this the asshole that did that to your butt?"

She didn't answer or move. Randy's voice was low, cold and steady.

"Answer the boy."

She looked up.

"Yes."

Randy watched as the young man took a step forward as he spoke.

"Why you old fucker. I will break you into firewood."

Randy stood impassively as the young man accelerated forward, hands outstretched. Pat watched. Her mind thinking that this was going to be good. Randy seemed to simply step aside and in a blur of motion, Ryan was turning in the air. The young man came down solidly on his back on the hard floor with a loud thud. He lay there stunned, groaning. Randy looked at him. Pat was dumbfounded.

Holy Shit. He isn't even breathing hard. His hair isn't even mussed. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Of fuck!

"Get up boy."

The young man groggily rolled to one side managed to get a knee beneath himself. His eyes came up and Randy could see the anger blazing in them. The eyes closed to slits and he suddenly launched himself up and at Randy, screaming.

"That was pretty fancy old man but I won't fall for it again."

His arms went out wide as he rushed toward Randy, intent on bear hugging the older man and crushing him into submission. His arms swept closed where Randy should have been but got nothing but air. Randy's fist flashed and struck Ryan behind the ear and the hulk of a young man simply folded up like a rag.

Pat sat and watched in amazement. Randy straightened his jacket and walked over to the moaning pile on the floor. Ryan's eyes fluttered open. He tried to stand but instead, retched, throwing up on the floor.

"Boy. Get up, sit in that chair and listen to me."

The young man crawled to the chair. Using the chair seat for support, he managed to get to his knees and then sit. He looked up at Randy.

"Boy. I am going to give you a couple of bits of advice. First, if you want to fuck another man's wife, do it quietly and unobtrusively. There are people who will kill you if you embarrass them Second, if you are going to kick someone's ass you better make damn sure you have the skills to do it. Looks are deceiving and the old man you see as easy prey man be the one who will kill you. Third. You need to learn to think with the head on your shoulders not the one hanging between your legs Do you understand me?"

The young man nodded his head slowly.

"Good. Now. I am going to give you a treat before I send you on your way."

Randy looked at Pat and spoke to her.

"Stand up and bend over that table."

She stood and looked at him aghast.

"Did you not hear me?"

She suddenly realized that he was in complete control of this situation and she had no recourse. She turned and leaned over resting her torso on the table.

"Boy, stand up."

The young man stood up a bit shakily. Randy walked over and lifted Pat's skirt and pulled her panties down to her knees exposing her ass and cunt. The bruises were still evident. Randy smiled as he noticed the gleam of moisture on her pussy lips.

"Boy. If you can get your cock hard you can fuck her one more time before you leave. After that you will forget all about her. You won't try to contact her. You won't answer her phone calls. If you see her on the street you will turn around and go a different direction. Is that clear?"

"Yeah."

"You know, your parents did a piss poor job of raising you. You have no respect for your elders or your betters. That will be Yes Sir from now on. Understand?"

"Yes . . . Sir."

"Now get that dick out that you are so proud of and let's see if it will get hard enough to fuck her."

Ryan hesitated, unsure of what was happening.

"Boy. I will not tell you again. Pull out your pathetic cock. You should know by now that I can do it for you if I am forced."

The young man opened his trousers and pulled out his cock. It hung flaccid.

"That's what I thought. You were happy to shove that thing in her cunt before. What's wrong now? There she is, spread open and wet."

Ryan stood, embarrassment cloaking his face. He stood, cock hanging out soft and limp. Randy snorted derisively.

"Fuck! Put that thing back in your pants and get your ass out of here. Remember what I told you. If I find out that you have contacted her in any fashion, you and I will meet again."

The young man rushed to close his pants and then without another word backed to the door.

Randy turned to her. She had her forehead on the table, her eyes closed and he was sure she was sobbing silently.

"Stand up and fix your clothes. We are going back to my house."

She stood, pulled her panties up and smoothed the skirt. She saw him turn and leave and she hurried to follow. He spoke to the old man on the way out, palmed a bill to the doorman and another to the valet driver. She managed to get back in the car with a bit more grace.

He was silent as he drove. She kept her eyes turned to the side window, her mind a tumultuous storm of emotions.

What happened?. Why did I get so turned on? I wanted Ryan to fuck me in front of Randy. I wanted Randy to fuck me himself. Why didn't I scream for help. There were lots of other people in the club! I could have walked out! I stayed. I wanted to see Ryan kick Randy's ass. I was scared it would actually happen. I was scared Randy would get hurt. I wanted Ryan to take me away. I didn't want to leave Randy. GOD! I am dripping wet and I can feel my cunt twitch!

Back at his house she climbed out of the car and hurried to catch up to him. He went to the bedroom. She followed him in. He went directly to the closet. She waited a second then moved to the spot by the chair and knelt.

He came out. The jacket was gone. He stared down at her coldly.

"Listen to me. You are an arrogant, spoiled, insolent bitch. You have a husband who loves you more then you deserve. Not only that, he has given you the world and you treat him like shit. You act like a whore. You are going to learn how to behave and how to treat a man. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir"

"The first lesson you are going to learn is that you don't fuck anyone unless your husband tells you too. The second lesson is that your husband is to be respected. The third thing you will learn and remember is that you represent your husband all the time and the way you conduct yourself reflects on him."

She listened. It all sounded sort of corny. He saw the look in her eye.

"You want to ask a question?"

"Yes Sir."

"Ask."

"What about you. I fuck you without my husband telling me too."

He smiled.

"Are you sure."

The sudden implication of that answer caused her to gasp.

"Bret knows?"

"That is two questions. I will answer this time."

"Yes. He knows."

She looked at the floor. She was thinking to herself.

That son of a bitch. Wait until I get home.

His next words were like one of his slaps on her cheek.

"You are like reading an open book. Every emotion that you have is splashed across your face. If you are thinking that you are going to give Brett hell when you get home I would have a second thought. I would also put any thought of a divorce or not doing exactly as I say out of your mind. I have copies of the video from the dance club. I also have copies of you here sucking my cock like a pro and taking a beer bottle up your ass without a word of protest. I have video of you getting fucked and screaming for more, begging for me to do it harder. They will play well in a divorce court."

Her face fell.

He looked at his watch. It was a quarter until ten.

'Come with me."

He turned and walked out. She hesitated and then leapt to her feet and followed. She caught up with him at a door near the foyer. He unlocked it and turned on the light. She could see a stairway leading down. He nodded toward it. It was dark at the bottom and when they reached the last step, is arm came around her turning on the lights. She stared into a room filled with what she immediately recognized as dungeon equipment.

"Welcome to my dungeon."

She moaned and nearly staggered.

He walked across the room.

"Come here. "

She walked slowly toward him.

"I want you to spend the next hour or so thinking about your place, your attitude and your life."

He reached to the wall and pulled down a pair of handcuffs. He turned her and cuffed her hands behind her back. He then took a long bar with leather cuffs on each end. The cuffs were quickly around her ankles. The bar forced her legs apart uncomfortably. She watched as he took another silver metal bar. At one end was fixed a huge flesh colored dildo. He pushed down on the tube and she could see that the bar was spring loaded. He lifted her skirt, pulled the panties to one side and roughly rammed the dildo into her pussy. She yelped. She wailed as he pushed it in until it was firmly against her cervix. He attached the bottom of the pole to the bar holding her legs apart. Turning a knob, he adjusted the length of the bar holding the dildo until the spring kept the dildo firmly planted against her cervix. He stood and smiled.

"Remember what I said. I want you to think. I want you to think about your attitude and your place as a wife. "

He turned and walked up the stairs. The lights went out and she heard the door at the top of the stairs shut and lock. In the dark, impaled and unable to walk or move she began to sob.

At 11 pm he turned off the TV and went back down stairs. She was still standing where he had left her. Her face was a mess with mascara running down her cheeks. Snot was hanging from her nose. She heard him as the lights came on. It took her several seconds to be able to see. When she could focus her eyes, he was standing in front of her waiting patiently.

"Have you been thinking?"

She nodded and then remembering his hands she blurted out.

"Yes Sir."

He smiled.

"And what have you thought about?"

"I have been disrespectful and arrogant and insolent and a bitch."

He looked at her.

"Well at least you learned enough tonight to parrot back my words. That is a start."

He quickly removed the dildo and freed her legs. When he uncuffed her she rubbed her wrists.

"Go home. When you get there tell your husband you are sorry for being a slut and that your affair with the college boy is over. Ask his forgiveness and then ask if you can suck his cock to make up at least a little."

She listened impassively.

"Have you made arrangements as you were told for this weekend."

"Yes Sir."

"You need not make excuses to Bret. He knows where you are going."

Her eyes went wide again.

"Be here at noon on Saturday. You need not bring anything."

Yes Sir"

"Go home."

He turned and went back upstairs. She picked up her purse and started to walk and then winced. The dildo in her pussy had left her cervix bruised and every step was a bit of agony.

She got home and found Bret sitting by the pool.

"Have you talked to Randy?"

"Not since day before yesterday."

"You know that is where I have been?"

"Yes."

"You agreed to it?"

"Yes."

She looked at him coldly.

"You are a bigger son of a bitch than I thought."

She forgot all about her instructions and turned heading to the bedroom. She stopped and turned back to him.

"You can sleep in one of the other bedrooms."

She turned and went up the stairs.

He sat and thought for a moment. It occurred to him that Randy probably did not send her home with those instructions. He picked up the phone.

"Randy you asleep?"

"Nope. Why aren't you Is Pat not home yet?"

"Oh yeah. She is here."

He told him about the exchange and her announcement.

The phone was silent.

"Don't do anything. I will see you tomorrow afternoon, right?

"Yeah!"

"Good."

At lunch Bret left and headed to the little neighborhood bar where they used to hang out. It seemed dingy and cramped. It was not as cheery as it had seemed then. Randy came in not long after. They ordered burgers and beer.

"Bret. Pat has no respect for you. She really has no respect for anyone. I suspect, deep down, she doesn't have much respect for herself. You've got to take control and make her respect you before you do anything else."

"How the hell do I do that?"

Randy told him about how he had dealt with her attitude. Bret was shocked.

"You slapped her?"

"Yeah. I slapped the hell out of her."

"She didn't come unglued and come at you like a wildcat?"

"She turned docile as a kitten."

Bret shook his head.

"I can't believe it."

"Well, some of it has to do with your attitude as well. You need to take a different look at things. "

"How so?"

"For one thing, you need to deal with her from a position of power. You need to expect her to listen to you and respect you and obey you. You need to exude that air of confidence that says I am in charge and that you expect everyone else to respect that."

"I'm not sure I understand how to do that."

"You do it every day at work. I have seen you when you are dealing with your employees and contractors. They have no problem understanding who is the boss and what you expect."

"That's different. They work for me."

"Bullshit. Would you let anyone else treat you the way you let Pat treat you?"

"No. I guess not."

"What makes her different"

"She is my wife!"

"So? Does being married mean you have to be a doormat. Does it mean you have to expect less respect?"

Brett thought about that.

"I guess not. I just don't know how to do that with her."

"That's why you are going to school on Saturday night."

"What?"

You are going to the University of Randy, The School of BDSM and get your Master's Degree Come on. We have some shopping to do."

Before the afternoon was over, Bret had a complete new wardrobe. He also had a pair of tight fighting black leather gloves and a spandex hood that conformed to his head tightly but hid his features completely.

Before they parted Randy gave him his last instructions.

"You know where to be at 7:30pm. You will meet Cherry there and she will take you to the party. She will explain everything that you need to know and will be your guide. She is experienced and I have talked to her about the situation. If you have any questions you follow Cherry's lead. Wear your new clothes and bring your gloves and your mask."

"You are going to be there, right?"

"Oh Yes. So is Pat."

Bret's eyes flew open.

"Won't she recognize me?"

"Only if you get right next to her and she should hear you. That is why I have told Cherry to keep you on the periphery of where ever I am. She will keep you close enough to see and hear but you should blend into the crowd. There will more men there dressed as you are. You will all begin to look alike to Pat. Just don't talk. If you need to talk to Cherry, back away and do it quietly."

"Ok. . I hope you know what you are doing?"

"Trust me."

"I do."

Saturday morning at about 11am Pat walked in and looked at him sitting at the table.

"I am going to Randy's house so your friend can fuck me."

He looked at her without saying anything. She looked at him derisively. As he heard her car speed away,he picked up the phone and dialed.

"She is on her way."

He dropped the phone on the table and went back to watching the baseball game on the small TV in the breakfast area.

She arrived about 45 minutes later. She didn't hesitate at the door. He was sitting in the living room reading a book. She saw him put it down after carefully marking his place.

"Let's go. We have shopping to do."

This time they took the Honda. He drove it as skillfully as he did the Bugatti and it wasn't long until he parked in front of a small boutique.

"Come on."

She followed him inside and found herself in an eclectic collection of antique clothing, leather goods and modern apparel.

"Donna, are you here?"

"Be right there."

Pat watched the door from the back of the store and a rather plump young woman with purple hair came out. She had piercings in her lips, her eye brows and multiples in each ear. She walked up and hugged Randy then looked at Pat.

"Is this her?"

"Yes."

The younger woman looked her up and down.

"Leather or fabric?"

"Leather."

"Under bust or over bust?"

He looked at Pat as well.

"Over."

"Garters?"

"8"

"Panty?"

"No."

Shoes?"

"We will pick them out now."

"What else?"

"A collar, a leash , a good sized ball gag and a pair of black steel cuffs."

Pat listened. She had no idea what they were discussing. Then the woman took her by the arm.

"Come on sweetheart, let's try some things on. First you need to strip."

Pats eyes darted around the store. They were near the front, a vast expanse of plate glass. Anyone could look in.

"Pat, strip."

Her eyes begged him. His face was impassive. She slowly began to remove her clothing until she stood in the middle of the store stark naked.

Donna returned with a leather corset. She showed it to Randy and he nodded.

"Raise your arms honey"

Pat raised her arms straight over her head. The woman put the corset around her from behind then reached in front of Pat and began to fasten the long row of metal hooks that closed the garment. When they were all fastened, she put her hands inside the cups and adjusted Pats breasts. Pat blushed as she felt the woman's hands touching her.

The woman put her hands on Pats shoulders and maneuvered her to a post in the store that supported the roof.

"Hold onto that pipe. Hold on tight because I am going to really pull."

Pat felt Donna begin to tug and work the laces. The corset became tighter and tighter. It became increasingly more difficult to get a deep breath. She felt as if her insides were being squashed. Finally, the tugging and pulling came to an end and the woman exclaimed out of breath.

"Done . . . Randy what do you think?"

Randy looked at Pat from several angles.

"I think that will be fine."

The woman touched Pat's shoulder and motioned for her to follow. As they walked across the shop Pat managed to look at herself in the mirror. The black leather corset had trimmed at least 3 inches from her waist. Her breasts already large, seemed to be about to spill put of the top of the leather cups. It made her already striking figure even more impressive. At a rack on the wall the woman stopped and looked at Randy.

"Fishnet, nylon or silk?"

"Silk."

She smiled.

"Only the best huh? Seams or no?"

"Seams."

"Cuban heels or blocked?"

"Cuban."

The woman opened a package. Pat watched as Donna carefully rolled a stocking.

"Lift up your leg."

Pat lifted her leg. The feeling of the silk going up her leg was almost soothing. Pat was mesmerized as the woman expertly rolled the stocking up and adjusted the seam until it was perfectly straight. Donna attached the four garter snaps adjusting them to keep the stocking smooth and taut. Pat's other leg went equally as fast.

Donna turned to Randy again.

"Shoes. How high?"

Randy looked at Pat.

"6 inch."

Donna raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Open toed or closed?"

"Open."

"Ankle straps?"

"Yes locking if you have them."

Donna nodded and disappeared into the back of the store. She returned with a box. Pat stood silent as Donna removed a pair of black patent leather open toed stilettos. The heels were six inches. The arch on the shoe was extreme.

"Lift your foot."

Pat lifted her foot and felt the shoe go on and then the straps pulled tight. She put the foot down and gasped. The extremely high heel meant that she would be walking almost on tiptoe. She heard Donna again.