Gardening Ch. 02

His voice, slightly blurred by drink, came soothingly down the line, telling me how much he loved me and how he missed me not being in bed with him. He started to get sexy, telling me to touch myself, let my fingers roam, guiding them with his passionate voice over the phone. It was, as always, very erotic, and it was masking the guilt I felt. He teased me, making me come several times before he said goodnight, promising me something special when he got home.

As the line went dead, I thought, Yes, I too have something special for you when you get home, but I don't think you are going to like it, and it might be the last time you talk me into climaxing ever again. I couldn't help the tears as they flowed down my cheeks. How could I have been so stupid, so careless with my love, so greedy for sex that it blinded me to the real value of what I had? But regrets are not going to help, not now.

I might have slept for an hour or so before the dawn was breaking. I felt wretched and unworthy of the love of my man. I had betrayed our marriage. But hang on, wasn't it Pat who was always urging me to have sex with some other man? Wasn't it Pat who wanted to take me dogging? Perhaps this might be salvageable after all. He might just forgive me if I told him all the details of my affair with Bill. It was a hope, and slim as it may be, I clung to it like a life raft in my sea of misery.

Pat phoned before he left for another meeting, telling me how much he missed me and he would be home as soon as possible. What had I done? This man loved me so much and I had betrayed him. I was every kind of fool imaginable, risking all this for a quick fuck with a dirty old gardener who had beaten me with a garden cane.

I had another long soak in the bath, hoping it would fade the red welts across my bum, but looking in the mirror tiles of the bathroom, I was shocked to see my ass criss crossed with bright a bright red pattern of very sore marks and no sign of diminishing. In fact, they looked worse this morning than they did last night. How could I face my man looking like this? There was no hiding place. I was in trouble.

Later that morning I went down to the potting shed, visiting the scene of the crime. The cane he had used laid on the bench, looking so innocent, just like any number of garden canes, just an inanimate object; only when in old Bill's hands did it become my waterloo.

I sat in the lounge, wondering how on Earth I could explain this to Pat in such a way that he could find some way to forgive me. Nothing came to mind, only that faint hope that his encouragement for me to have sex with other men was real and not just a male fantasy. Dare I hope for this? I had no other choice.

The phone rang, bringing me out of my tormented thoughts. It was my best friend. She was about to have her first baby, and things weren't going very well for her. She wanted me to go round for a bit of moral support. I agreed, getting out of the house and thinking of someone else made it seem a little better. When I arrived, things were really bad. She had gone into labour, and needed to go straight to hospital.

Her husband had walked out on her only a few weeks before, so she was alone. Her parents lived somewhere up in the highlands of Scotland and couldn't get there for hours. I agreed to stay as long as she needed me and phoned Pat on his mobile to bring him up to date.

Getting her into my car and off to the local hospital, waiting around for tests, and sitting on hard chairs soon brought back the memories of yesterday; my ordeal at the hands of my old gardener, the predicament I was in, and the fact that I had to face my husband and tell him the whole truth. I even thought of telling Pat I was forcibly made to do this thing and leave out all the preceding pleasure I had received from Bill and his enormous cock.

Afternoon soon turned into evening. Nothing was happening but I couldn't desert my friend while she needed me so much. By six I went outside and phoned Pat again. He was very understanding, telling me to stay as long as necessary and make sure Eileen was alright even if it took all night. I had cheated on this wonderful man!

To cut a long story short, I stayed all night with her, holding her hand and trying to help through the contractions. She was becoming quite weak by early morning and the doctors decided to give her an injection to stop the labour for an hour or so, but asked me to stay with her if I could.

I made another call to Pat. He sounded strange, sort of excited, but in a weird way, almost like he is when we are messing around with each other. He had that sort of husky, throaty sound you men make when you're aroused. Was he having an affair too? Did he have another woman in my bed last night? If so, perhaps I deserved it.

But in my heart I knew differently. He wouldn't do that. He was too straight and honest. He would be so wrong to trust me ever again, but for now I had another person to worry about. Eileen was in a bad way and needed my support.

The baby arrived at about five that evening and her parents just a half hour later. She told me I should go home, as she knew I hadn't seen Pat for two days and she also knew how much we were in love with each other. Would the next few hours destroy my marriage just as her husband's playing around had wreaked hers?

As soon as I got home, I rushed up to the bathroom and ran a hot bath. Was there any hope that those welts had faded enough for me to get away with my wicked betrayal of our marriage? I looked in the mirror, but the marks were still quite plain. No way could I hide my bum from Pat. I soaked in the bath as long as I dared, wanting to get him a special dinner to try to get him in as good a mood as possible.

The dinner was on and I was dressed as nicely as I could be, looking every bit the dutiful little wife. My heart beat like mad. What would the next few hours bring? Pat arrived with a huge bouquet of flowers, giving me even more self incriminations. He was a model husband, helping me serve up and telling me how much he had missed me. It was the longest we had been apart since we married: two whole days and two nights.

After dinner, he asked me to watch a film he had. It was new and he thought I might like it. We sat in his den as the computer flickered into life and the screen showed a couple making love. Then another man came onto the scene, obviously the husband of the girl. He watched as this older man played and teased his wife, bringing her to many orgasms before he took her over the back of a sofa.

He asked me what I thought of the video, and then said, "I've got another one that's even better."

He changed the disk and sat beside me, putting his arm around me, and whispered in my ear, "This one will really turn you on." The set was somehow familiar to me. Then I realised it was my potting shed, and two figures came in. One was Bill, the other myself.

Oh my god, he had set this up. He knew and had fixed up a camera in the shed to record my downfall. He had all the proof he needed for a divorce. I watched as Bill told me to strip, then tied me to the bench. I could hear Pat panting like a dog on heat as the video played. I daren't look at him as Bill found the right cane and brought it down across my bare bum. Pat made a strangled sound, telling me to open his trousers. He had cum in his pants just watching as Bill thrashed me with that cane.

Pat told me to strip and let him see Bill's handiwork. I had nothing to lose. I undressed and stood in front of Pat, his fingers tracing the still inflamed lines across my ass. "Did you enjoy that, darling?"

"No, it hurt like hell. Why did he do that to me?"

"Because I told him to," Pat replied. What was I hearing? Did he say he told Bill to thrash me with a cane in my own potting shed? I knew my ears hadn't deceived me.

At that point in the video, I was coming the biggest climax ever, straining against the bonds that held me tight. Pat said, "Well, if you didn't like it, why did you have that massive orgasm?" What could I say, the proof was there right in front of me. I was writhing around in ecstasy as that cane whipped down, bringing stripe after stripe across my bum.

Pat's hand was getting harder on my still very sore bottom, his fingers digging in, making me want to cry out as the pain seared through me. It was as bad as the original caning. My bum was so tender and bruised, and he was enjoying watching his wife being made to suffer and the response she had to the beating.

He watched as Bill dropped his trousers and stuck his big old cock up me with out any pretence or consideration for me, just taking me for himself. Pat's cock was big again despite his earlier ejaculation. He was loving this, probably more than Bill was, his fingers kneading my sore and inflamed ass as his eyes watched his wife getting fucked mercilessly on the screen.

Pat told me to finish undressing him, but not to block his vision of the screen. I knelt down and took his trousers off with his boxers and opened his shirt all the way, leaving him almost naked. He said, "Well, you like sucking Bill, so mine should be no problem to you." I took his cock in my mouth and gave him the best tonguing I knew how. I might just get out of this with my marriage intact if I played my cards right.

His fingers entwined in my hair, holding me down, making sure I took every last fraction of his cock. It was easy after trying to do the same to Bill's monster. I knew he was going to hold me there until he shot it in my mouth. I was ready for it and would do anything to save my life as his wife. He could treat me as he wished as long as he stayed with me.

The video was still playing. I could hear Bill's big beer belly slapping against my bum as he fucked me so hard and for so long. I didn't need to see; I knew every stroke of that hard almost vicious fucking, but Pat's cock was getting bigger and bigger as he enjoyed both my humiliation and the sucking I was giving him.

He groaned and shot his stuff in my mouth, his hands pushing my face tight into his groin to the point where I could hardly breathe. He pumped his cum into my mouth. I had no choice but to swallow it, every last drop. It was swallow or gag, not much of a choice, but if it saved my marriage it was worth every little drop of his cum as it slithered down my throat.

Pat released me and at last the film had finished. "Did you enjoy your birthday?"

"It wasn't my birthday," I replied.

"Oh, yes it was. Your first birthday to the very day."

Oh my God, he knew all the time!

"I have known from the day I chose Bill that you would eventually get off with him. He has a reputation of fucking younger woman, and he certainly got you, didn't he?"

"But how did you know about the first time?" I asked, wishing I had kept my mouth shut.

He smiled and said, "I've got every time you had sex with Bill on video." He pointed to a book on the shelf. "Get me that volume," he said. I tried to take it from the shelf, but it wouldn't move. He grinned and said, "That's a camera. I've just filmed this as well."

He had wired every room in our home with secret cameras and even the potting shed. I knew the outside was set up with security cameras, but I had no idea he had put surveillance throughout the house as well. He had been recording us every time we had sex and watching it at work or on his laptop. Instead of being angry, he was delighted and told me that from now on I was to do whatever he told me to or he would send a copy to my parents.

From that day, my life changed. I became his plaything, doing whatever he wanted me to, including going dogging when ever he felt the need. He set tasks for me to persuade Bill to do all sorts of things, but at least he never instructed Bill to use that cane again. He held it as my punishment if I disobeyed him.

Pat is still the doting husband he always was, but now he is more assertive and much more adventurous in his lovemaking, taking me however he wants, knowing I will never refuse to do exactly what he wants whenever he wants me to. I wanted to say I regret doing those bad things with that randy old gardener, but I can't lie, not about something as big as this. I still have a wonderful husband, I still get regularly serviced by that dirty old man, and I get the additional sex from total strangers if Pat decides I should when we are out dogging.

My friend had her baby and called him Pat, telling me she wanted him to grow up as nice as my fantastic husband. If only she knew the whole truth!

My sincere thanks to "Anuahs etrof" for editing this story for me, making it so much nicer to read and hopefully enjoy, I would also like to thank all the readers who sent feedback for the first part of this story, sorry I couldn't reply to you all individually, there were just so many, thank you.