Out of Control

I love my husband, Eric, but I am a highly sexed woman who finds it very difficult to say 'No' to interesting propositions. Eric knows this, but at least during the early years of our relationship he was more than able to keep me well satisfied. He has a kinky side too, and loves to see me in high heels and short skirts. He guards me possessively in public, while enjoying the way I'm ogled by others, and by the way it makes me so horny I'll do anything for him.

He loves fucking me in public places. There are a handful of dogging sites we visit regularly, where people watch from outside the car as I strip off inside, suck his cock, and then ride him to orgasm. But his favourite thing is to fuck me in stairwells, out of sight of cameras but with the risk that someone will appear at any moment. A horrified gasp from an unwitting stranger, and their hurried retreat, is usually enough to make him come - though there have been occasions when the strangers have walked past us, laughing and cheering us on.

A few months ago, pressed against each other in a train on the way to a football match, surrounded by fans who were shouting loudly at each other, he took me from behind. He fucked me slowly at first, trying not to be obvious, but our coupling did not go unnoticed. Or ignored. The man in front of me grabbed my breasts through my top and teased my nipples, and I reached down to unzip his jeans and free his semi-erect cock.

The train was so packed that although Eric could see this stranger handling my tits, he couldn't see me stroking the increasingly hard cock below. Having my husband's thick cock slowly pumping away at me amidst this small audience of hungry gazes should have been enough for me, but no way was I letting go of the long, smooth shaft that felt so good in my hand.

My husband eased out of me at last, having filled me with his warm, creamy cum, and I turned and kissed him passionately, distracting him for a minute as the hard cock slipped into me from behind and worked me with long, deep, steady thrusts. If the man's beautifully pulsing length hadn't triggered my own too obvious orgasm, I might even have got away with it.

The football match proved to be rather tense. Eric scowled the whole way through and I didn't dare say anything as my knickers became increasingly soaked with my husband's cum as well as that of another man. That our team won may have lightened his mood, however, since on the way home he seemed pensive rather than angry.

"Take your knickers off," he instructed firmly as we waited for the train to take us home. "Throw them on the track."

Reluctantly I did as ordered. A girl in a short skirt taking off her knickers and throwing them where everyone could see what they were... did not go unnoticed. I felt like there were a hundred eyes on me. Certainly the cock that pressed against my cheeks once we finally crowded onto the train was not Eric's. He was watching from the side as someone I couldn't see clearly pushed his hard length against my soaking pussy and thrust into me.

There were hands all over me, squeezing my breasts, pulling on my nipples, rubbing my clit, fingering my ass, and Eric watched it all with a blank expression. I couldn't tell whether he was enjoying what was happening to me. The man behind me certainly enjoyed himself, pounding into me with fury until I felt him stiffen and unload.

As soon as he pulled out, another took his place, and there was just time for a third to reach his conclusion before we pulled into the main station and the train emptied.

I could barely stand. I was tense with need for the climax that had eluded me, but also exhausted from the events of the afternoon. The cum of three strangers, and perhaps still the fourth, was leaking from my pussy and making my thighs wet and sticky. My relief that Eric stayed with me, and supported me as we walked to the car, was profound, and I dared to hope that he had forgiven me, and perhaps that he had enjoyed giving me to other men.

In the stairwell of the multi-storey, he gave me the spanking that I surely deserved, and then fucked me with a rough urgency that finally took me to the edge and beyond. I howled with pleasure, uncaring of any listeners, my orgasm only intensified by the welcome sensation of my husband's own satisfaction.

*

He sat me down for a talk that evening, having gone out somewhere without explanation while I dozed in a warm bath. He still didn't seem angry with me, but he certainly looked serious. "I knew you were a slut, even before we married, but I never realised how out of control you were."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I really can't help it."

Eric nodded. "I know. I'm not angry, but I can't go through life wondering who else is taking advantage of your horny cunt." His choice of words made me blush furiously. I could feel my cheeks burn. How odd that being fucked by a series of strangers was less embarrassing than having a 'horny cunt'.

He continued. "So, you have a choice. Either we get a divorce, and maybe you can find a man more accepting of your infidelity, or..." He pulled from a bag a studded leather something, some kind of thong maybe.

I took it from him and inspected it, and comprehension dawned. "A chastity belt?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"As long as we're married."

The thought of wearing something so ugly and so confining, and of surrendering control of the most intimate part of me - that I had surrendered to four complete strangers in one day - was difficult to get my head around.

But divorcing Eric? I loved him. It would break my heart to leave him.

But... a chastity belt?

"You can change your mind at any time," he said. "And if you stay with me, I plan to buy you a much nicer belt. This is just for the interim."

A nicer belt?

Um.

"Okay," I whispered.

*

I hated that belt. It just made everything so complicated. Choosing what to wear that didn't make it obvious, arranging to go to the toilet, cleaning myself under supervision.

And then there was the itch, the endless unrelenting itch to touch myself somehow, to scratch myself, to fuck myself silly on anything remotely cock shaped - though something bigger than a toothbrush. There was a slit that I could pee through, but my clit was out of reach and nothing useful could penetrate.

Eric had called me a 'horny cunt' before, but I really felt like it now. I spent hours on my knees in the evenings, Eric's cock in my mouth or between my tits. I tried to keep him hard and at the edge, to deny him satisfaction, all in the hope he would take off my belt and give me the fucking I craved.

I begged him to take me out dogging or to a stairwell like we used to do, just to tempt him into releasing me for a while. I had been a slut before putting the belt on, but I was another level of crazy now.

Meanwhile he had me measured for a proper belt and we waited impatiently for over a month for delivery, because if I had to wear a belt I didn't want the awful leather thing. The stainless steel belt was beautiful by comparison. The elegant design made it almost undetectable beneath clothing, and instead of shielding my ass, the twin-cable design parted around it, almost as if trying to open me up.

So not only did I feel more relaxed about going out in public, I could go to the loo with ease. "I love this," I said. I actually felt free for the first time after weeks of imprisonment.

Eric chuckled. "You love wearing a chastity belt?"

"No! - But if I have to wear one, this is so much better."

*

For the first time since the football, I was out in public in high heels and a short skirt - and sans underwear. We went shopping at the mall, and I was on edge the whole time, waiting for a cry of shock as the polished steel of my belt caught someone's eye.

I had never felt more exposed. The belt was even worse than going commando - which I had done on a few occasions. The belt felt more visible, and anyone who did see it would judge me not as risqué but as a degraded slut.

Which was a pretty accurate assessment, given how aroused I was as well. The shield that denied me access to my crotch - to my horny cunt - was leaking the fluids that proved it. What added to the constant, underlying fear of humiliation was the way the belt opened around my ass. My pussy might be hidden from sight, but my ass felt like it was on offer to all takers.

I had always avoided anal sex. The idea of it had never appealed to me before and I had resisted Eric's occasional forays in that direction. And yet...

And yet, as he guided me into a sex shop, past the lingerie and fancy dress to the toys, and stood me in front of a shelf of butt plugs of various sizes and colours, I knew I would fight him no longer. "That one," I said, pointing to a steel plug with a purple crystal.

My husband wanted to fuck my ass.

I wanted my husband to fuck my ass.

Would it hurt? Would I like it? Or was I just so desperate to be fucked I no longer cared how or where or whether I would even like it.

Eric paid for the plug, and bought some lube and wipes too, and in full view of the amused shop assistants he cleaned the plug, lubed my ass, fucking me first with one finger then two while I whimpered into his shoulder, more embarrassed than ever before in my life, and then the cold metal of the plug pushed into me, slotting into place, and for a moment I feared it had gone inside entirely.

Thus, as I left the shop, feeling quite unsteady on my feet and distracted by the weight shifting inside me, not only was my ass exposed by the chastity belt, but a crystal-based plug nestled there, twinkling at any who peeked up my skirt.

I could tell by the bulge in Eric's pants that he was excited by this. It was only an hour since I had given him a blowjob in the car, and the taste of his cum was still in my mouth, but clearly he was ready for more. "Let's go back to the car," I said.

He agreed, and we backtracked slowly to the car park, but as we reached the top of the stairwell, he pressed me against the wall the way he had done so often before. He freed his hard cock from his pants and rested it between my cheeks as he kissed my ear and my neck. "Tell me what you want," he whispered.

"Fuck me," I whispered, pressing back against his beautiful member. "Please just fuck me."

"How?" he demanded, his hands cupping my breasts and teasing my almost painfully sensitive nipples.

I knew what he wanted to hear. "My ass," I cried, my voice echoing in the stairwell. "Fuck my ass!"

Eric plucked the plug from my ass, pocketing it, and within a second I felt his cock take its place, pushing through the looped opening of the belt. Clearly this belt was designed exactly for this, to deny a women access to her own horny cunt but leave her ass unguarded, cheeks spread invitingly.

He was so much thicker than the plug. He stretched me so much I wondered if I would survive it. I was so tight, and the friction was so intense it hurt. "More lubricant," I pleaded, but he ignored me and thrust deeper, forcing a cry from me.

And yet that initial pain receded slowly, as he worked his way deeper and his strokes became longer. Being stretched around a hard, thick cock, being fucked by an ardent lover, was a familiar and welcome experience, even if I would have preferred it in the other.

I'd never imagined it could feel as good as it did. I couldn't believe I'd avoided it for so long. I was soon thrusting back to meet him, to take him deeper. It's not that it no longer hurt, but the pain was part of why it felt so good.

"You like this, don't you?" he said.

"Yes."

"I always knew you'd be an anal slut, if only you tried it."

"Harder," I pleaded. "Fuck me harder."

He obliged, and sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed loud, almost drowning out the sudden voices of women arguing below as they climbed the stairs. Eric didn't pause, or even slow, and I started to panic. It was one thing to fuck in public, but something else to be fucked in the ass while wearing a chastity belt.

Fortunately they didn't climb all the way up to us, and I relaxed again, able to enjoy Eric's increasingly determined pounding of my ass. He was getting close.

Not for the first time, I attacked the plate shielding my crotch, trying desperately to reach my clit. While this had been almost possible with the leather belt, the steel belt denied me completely. It was futile to try. So instead I pinched and tugged at my nipples, trying to drive myself to an orgasm that way.

Eric was getting close. "Beg me for my cum," he ordered.

And of course I did. "Come in me," I growled. "Give this anal slut exactly what she wants! Fill my ass with your cum!"

He drove himself deeper than ever before, his cock feeling impossibly thick in me as he stiffened - and then his cum burst into me, triggering my own climax that had been denied for weeks.

"Fuck!" I cried as my ass contracted about his pulsing cock. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. The only thing that could have made it better was to have a cock in my cunt as well, or at least something for my vagina to grip as the waves of my orgasm washed through me. "Fuck," I whispered. "Fuck."

I leaned against the wall, exhausted, and muttered complaint as he pulled out of me, leaving me frustratingly empty - until he slipped the plug back in. "Don't want all that cum escaping too quickly, do we?"

Not that there was any stopping the fluid that dripped from the front.