Cassy's Game Ch. 1bywormwood©
copyright2001. by: Wormwood
My name is Jason, I'm a thirty two year old machinist, married to a wonderful woman. Her name is Cassandra but everyone calls her Cassy. Everyone but me that is. You see I'm a panty slave, cuckolded, slut, whored out husband that is only allowed to call my sweet wife Mistress Cassandra. I'm only allowed to wear... Well, we'll get to that eventually.
I know exactly when it started, from the beginning I was willing to give the reins to this beautiful woman. At five-eleven, she is the same height as me. With heels on she towered over me but I never minded, and neither did she. It gave me a perverse kind of thrill to reach up to kiss her. She always wore her black hair long and does to this day. When she wears her hair up she looks commanding and severe, but as you may have already guessed I love the way it looks when she wears it that way. Her breasts are not overly large, 34C, with thick eraser type nipples. Her hips are slim with long tapered legs that go right up to what I believe is the world's most perfect ass.
I always let her decide where we went, who we had as friends, and what we did. Not all the decisions, but most of them I left up to her. I'm definitely not the assertive type. She was a pleasant and charming woman but could also be imperious and subtly demanding. I gave in to her almost always. I knew how fortunate I was to have a beautiful and intelligent woman in love with me.
I've never considered myself a prize. Although I tried to stay in shape and generally succeeded I did not posses an impressive physique or any physical talents. In addition to my previously stated height I weighed 160 pounds sopping wet and was I thought amply endowed with the standard 6" penis.
We have been married for ten years. It was about five years ago that the flame started to go out of our sex life. We still had sex quite often but I had found a Penthouse Variations at work one day and I was immediately struck by how reading erotic literature could turn me on so much. I started purchasing copies of the magazine and was soon drawn to the kinkier stories involving BDSM. I would keep the magazines hidden in my truck and ran the stories through in my head as I was making love to my wife. Soon enough, by fantasizing about her spanking me or degrading me this came to be the only way that I could achieve an orgasm. In retrospect, if I had shared my discovery of erotica with my lovely bride I probably wouldn't be in the position that I am today. But hindsight is twenty-twenty.
It was inevitable that Cassy would find out about my secret stash of porn. Maybe subconsciously I wanted to get caught. One day when her car had to go into the shop, she used my truck for the day. I didn't even think of my stash until about halfway through the day, and then I wasn't too worried. Why would she look in a Builder's Square bag underneath the passenger seat of my truck?
Of course she looked, of course she found it and of course she was hurt and curious about my hidden sexual needs. When she picked me up after work I knew that something was wrong. I pretty much got the silent treatment all the way home. When we got home she confronted me with the evidence. She wasn't aware of the nature of the magazines, only that they had "dirty" pictures and "filthy" stories.
I tried to blow it all off, emphasizing that I didn't use them for masturbating and that it was just a whim that I held onto them. She seemed to accept my explanation but she still seemed reserved and I knew I had placed a strain on our relationship.
I went about my normal routine that evening, doing some chores and catching up on some technical reading for work. When I went to bed I was surprised to find Cassy sitting up in bed reading one of the "dirty" magazines. Even though I was afraid she might rekindle our earlier argument, I felt a twinge of sexual excitement as I saw she was actually reading, not just scanning the magazine.
"Find anything interesting?" I tried to make light of the situation.
"Yes, very." She replied without taking her nose from the book.
I quickly stripped and got under the covers next to her, snuggling next to her as I sunk into the bed. A familiar pretense to our usual love making routine.
"I'm still not pleased with finding these." She said in response to my unasked question. Letting me know that I wouldn't be enjoying any sexual satisfaction that night.
"I understand that reading this type of thing can be stimulating," she continued, "but why would you keep this sort of thing from me?"
I did my best to try to explain that it was all an innocent mistake on my part. I apologized over and over, all the time dreading that she would realize that the magazines from my truck had one single theme, BDSM. At the same time I knew that she was bright enough to put the pieces of this puzzle together herself. I asked myself if this would hurt her because it would seem like such a betrayal once it dawned on her, or if her anger over my fantasized cheating would make me the object of scorn or derision. The only thing I could possibly do was try to soften the blow, no matter which way the hammer fell. I made my bed, now all I could do was lie in it.
I had trouble falling asleep that night, and the strain of those next few evenings as I would go to bed and find her there before me, reading another magazine, made it difficult for my exhausted self to find any peace or sleep. Her denial of my sexual needs didn't help matters either. When I did sleep I would have nightmares, usually of a semi-sexual nature. Dreaming that I couldn't achieve an erection, or once I had, dreaming that I couldn't come. Images of my wife in the throws of orgasm as I was just a lowly spectator haunted my nights, waking me in a cold sweat with an erection that you could drive nails with.
Cassy never acknowledged that I was having bad dreams. She seemed to grow more distant the further she got into the pile of magazines. Finally by the end of the week I couldn't take it anymore and I lay awake after the lights had gone out waiting for my wife's steady breathing, the signal that she was asleep. I entered our adjoining bathroom with the top magazine from the stack next to Cassy's side of the bed and by the light of the nightlight I started to read and jerk off. It didn't take long for me to realize an orgasm was quickly on it's way when the light snapped on and there in the doorway was my beautiful wife Casey with a look on her face that was part disgust, part surprise and part "GOTCHA".
"What are you doing?" came from her mouth as her eyes looked from the softening dick in my hand to the open magazine in my other. She covered the space between us in a flash and grabbed the magazine from my hand, artfully reserving the page that I had turned to. I was so stunned I hadn't even let go of my dick.
"Is this the type of thing that turns you on?" She asked me as she held out the pages with the undeniable title of, "Make Me Wear Your Panties, Then Spank Me".
She grilled me about the magazines once again, making me admit that the kinkier stories were what drew me to them. She accused me of lying to her when I said that I didn't masturbate to them. When I feebly told her that it was the first time I had ever done it she looked at me with contempt.
The argument ended with her crying while walking out the door with a hastily packed overnight bag. She told me she was going to her parents house in the next town over and that she needed a few days to think this, and us, over.
To say I was devastated was an understatement. I roamed the house all weekend, cursing myself for being such a fool. I tried calling her at her parents house but her father told me she wouldn't come to the phone. I drove by but lacked the courage to stop and ring the bell. I told myself that I would do anything to get Cassy back in my life. She was my soul mate, my best friend and my wife all rolled into one. I realized that my life without her would be nothing.
By Sunday evening I was so exhausted from lack of sleep and worry that I stopped jumping up every time I heard a car come down the street. I lay on our bed, missing Cassy, and fell into an exhausted sleep.
The thing that woke me I think was the lack of air. That was the first thing that penetrated my fogged brain, that I couldn't breath. The next thing I realized was that it was my wife's pussy and ass that were suffocating me. I could feel her long slender fingers grasping my hair on either side of my head, forcing my face into the cleft between her legs. When I went to get her off me so I could breath that was the next thing that penetrated my clouded brain. My hands were tied! Apparently so were my feet. Recognition clicked on as my synapses started firing too fast for my overwhelmed senses. I was tied up in bed and my wife was either trying to kill me or reach an orgasm on my face, or both. I did what any red blooded male would do at that point and stuck my tongue out and started licking for all I was worth.
"Ah, that's it, come on, come on, yeeeeaaaah!" I could hear my lovely wife crying out as my tongue hit home on her clit and she let me up for a little air. I gave all my energy and focus on that spot between her clit and her vaginal opening, flicking my tongue back and forth, up and down the way I knew she liked it. I could feel her impending orgasm like electricity in my mouth.
The only thing new about this was that I was tied up. Cassy knew that I was a devout cunt licker and had often ridden my face to many pre-penetration orgasms. But when her orgasm came and went she kept riding me, telling me with a definite edge to her voice that I'd better not stop. My tongue was getting tired and my jaw ached but I hung in there like a trooper. She didn't get off me until she had cum three times.
I lay there with my face bathed in sweat and cum, breathing like I had just run a marathon. My cock was rock hard, pulsing with every beat of my heart. Cassy lay on her side, one hand propping her head up as she looked at me with love in her eyes and a Mona Lisa smile on her face.
She explained that she hadn't meant to tie me down when she first came home but when she saw me sleeping like a little lost boy with dried tears on his cheek she just couldn't resist. She was going to have a long talk with me first about my hidden desires and then make her decision about what to do based upon my response. Then she realized that I loved her and would do whatever she wanted me to do anyway.
"This isn't going to be something we can just play at every once in a while when you feel like it. You realize that don't you? If you want me to dominate you it will be on my terms only. I'm not over being angry at you and I figure the best way to get it out of my system will be to take it out on you. As long as that's what you want I'm willing to give it to you. This is as much of a learning process for me as it is for you."
I tried to explain that I would take her on any terms she desired, that I loved her more than life itself and she didn't have to do this if she didn't want to. I would gladly surpress any desires I had just to have her in my life. I babbled on looking deep into her eyes trying to read anything beyond the amusement in her eyes.
"Shut up, slave!" when she called me that it was like a knife had cut all the tension in the room. I closed my eyes and visibly gulped.
"This is something I want to do. I don't want to find more magazines five years from now and go through the same thing again. I know you're curious and frankly," she paused and stretched her arms above her head kittenishly, "I am too. After reading all those pornos I admit they've got my motor running."
I opened my mouth to talk but she placed her finger over my lips and shushed me.
"Don't talk, listen. The rules are as follows. This is my game and I'll be making all the rules from now on. You have to do everything and anything I say whenever I say it. This may last a day, a year or the rest of our lives. When I am tired of the game I will end it. Until I say so it ain't over. If you don't want to participate just let me know and we can end it, and our marriage at the same time. I would rather divorce you than wonder if you're trying to get your sick thrills from a magazine or somebody else. If you agree to this just nod your head. If you don't, I expect you to pack your things and leave."
I lay there, stunned. I hadn't imagined anything remotely like this but I was incredibly turned on by the whole prospect. I searched her eyes for any sign that it was all a joke but I knew she was dead serious. I silently nodded my head and watched her sly smile turn into a grin.
She got on her knees and untied my hands and then my ankles. As I sat there, rubbing my wrists I knew that now was not the time to speak. She rummaged in her top drawer and pulled out a pair of red nylon panties with ruffles on the back and threw them onto my stomach.
"Put these on and come to bed. You've got a little work to do before you can sleep."
With that I donned the silky panties and stretched them over my raging erection. I felt absolutely foolish wearing them and a little voice in my head told me to end this now, but I knew I couldn't.
She gave a soft chuckle when she saw the discomfort on my face. She reclined on a mound of pillows, spread her legs and crooked a finger to me. Pointing to her sweet pussy. I climbed between her outstretched legs as she pulled my face to her still wet pussy.
As I licked her swollen lips and turgid clit she said, "I've been doing quite a lot of reading lately, as you well know, I'm not too crazy about the more violent aspects of this. I mean I just can't see myself wielding a whip or crushing your balls or anything like that. But I do like the idea of a man at my beck and call to do my bidding, and I'm willing to sacrifice a loving husband for an obedient slave. At least for a while anyway."
Her words turned my attempt at pleasuring her into an act of worship. My cock seemed to grow even harder as I lapped at her slit. I was already humping the bed, rubbing my dick against the silky smoothness of my panties, and I couldn't resist reaching down with my hand to stroke my penis.
Her hand struck the back of my head with enough force to make me pause.
"Just because I don't like violence doesn't mean I won't use it to keep you in line. From now on only I can touch your penis. It belongs to me. Just for that you will not be allowed to cum tonight. I will however let you decide what your punishment will be. You can either get a spanking now or you can have your hands tied behind your back until morning."
I knew right away that I would opt for the spanking rather than have my hands tied, but I made a show of thinking about it for a few seconds before I bowed my head and said, "Spanking please."
"All right," she said. "But if I'm going to give you a spanking I think I had better tie your hands anyway. Just for the spanking part until I'm done. That way it will be harder for you to resist, and I'd hate to have to punish you for resisting.
With that she had me stand by the side of the bed and turn my back to her while she released one of the ropes she had previously tied me with and started to tie my hands together behind my back. When I was securely bound, and I was surprised at the talent she showed with the ropes, she guided me to her lap and started to caress my ass cheeks through the ruffled bottom of my panties.
"Are we going to do this with your pretty panties on or off? She asked.
"On please." I replied, my cock back to full hardness as she continued to rub her hand on my butt.
"I think we'll try it with them off this first time, just so we have an understanding of how it will feel for you to upset me the next time."
She pulled the bottoms down to just below my cheeks and started to really lay into my bottom with her bare hand, shocking me with the force of her blows. There was no counting or saying "Thank you Mistress", like you always read about in the stories. Just a plain old-fashioned ass-tanning. I endured the red hot pain of her wrath stoically, I didn't cry out or moan. I was probably more shocked than anything else. Her hand like a flail on my tender buns. My raging erection gone.
When she finished she was breathing hard and shaking her hand as if it was numb. "I'm going to have to find something else to hit you with if you're going to continue to be bad. Why didn't you warn me that I might hurt my hand doing this?"
I tried to explain that I didn't expect her to hit me so hard or so often otherwise I would have suggested something else but she didn't even reply. She pulled the panties back up over my ass and pushed me off her lap, stepping over me and walking into the bathroom.
I heard the tap start running and I imagined she was running cold water over her sore hand. She came back out with wet hands and said. "Just for that I'm not going to release your hands, you'll have to sleep like that for further punishment."
I tried to protest but I saw from the look in her eye that I would get nowhere with her. She replied, "If you'd like to keep talking we can see what else I can come up with for punishment."
I knew I had no choice but to submit to my wife and her cruel intentions. She directed me to get back in bed next to her and lay on my back. When I had gotten into bed she cuddled up right next to me, placing her hot, sore hand on my cock and playfully whispered in my ear. "Can you feel how hot my hand is? I'm going to have to use a wooden spoon or a hairbrush next time."
I just moaned as my dick returned to full hardness. She giggled and started rubbing my erection through the panties. I lay there as the heat in her hand transferred itself onto my stiff cock, wondering what I had gotten myself into. After what seemed like only minutes I discovered that my wife was asleep and my hands were going numb. I managed to wriggle onto my side to relieve the pressure and as I did her hand stayed right in my engorged cock. I felt like I had just stepped into The Twilight Zone and wondered if I could keep this up or if she would drive me from the house. I had plenty of time to think it over as it was almost impossible to go to sleep with a raging hard on and my ass on fire.
I finally fell asleep in this position but amazingly I had no bad dreams and had a restful sleep. When I awoke the next morning...
Well, maybe we should save that for next time.