The Sin Wife

"I can't feel it," I sob. "I can't feel anything."

"I know." He leans down and kisses my forehead, really gently, like I'm his wife. Then he starts thrusting into me.

This part is familiar: the rhythm of fucking, the aching for more. It reminds me a little bit of being fucked by Lenore's husband while listening to Charity whimper--no physical pleasure, but I'm still filled with that powerful desire to come.

But it's worse, too, because I know he's in my numb pussy, and because I can see him. He's on top of me, his face over mine, fully illuminated by the light in the cabin and streaming through the windows; he's not even trying to be quiet. I can hear every groan of satisfaction, I can see the way his face creases with pleasure as he uses me.

I close my eyes after a while, because my vision is so blurred with tears that it's making me dizzy. The wet slap of his cock in my pussy fills my ears, along with the sound of my own desperate whimpering. I arch and roll my hips helplessly, my body convinced it'll somehow start feeling good if I just find the right angle, but it's all just a dull pressure and stretch and nothingness.

"Good girl," he moans when I rock down against him. "Good girl. Fuck, you feel so good."

"No," I whimper, because I don't feel good, I don't feel like anything. "Please, please..."

"I'm close," he says, like that's what I care about, whether or not he's about to come. "Not long now. Mmm, good girl, keep squeezing me just like that." His hips move faster; I squirm and thrash in response, trying to find any way to get his dick deeper into me, into more of that sensitive part that hasn't been numbed by the cream, but it's pointless.

A minute later, he buries himself deep in me and groans. He's coming. I whimper again, and wonder if I can really feel his cock swelling in me or if I'm just imagining it.

He pulls out, and my pussy feels cold, like he's left me open and wet. I twist on the bed, lifting my hips in the air, I can't stop moving. I'm full of this bone-deep need to fuck, like if he unchained me from the bed I'd run outside right now and beg for every man in the community to come take a turn.

I'm not paying attention to what he's doing. He disappears into the bathroom again. When he comes back, he's pulled off the plastic sheath, and his semen is gone with it. I wonder if that's a common trick in the outside world; do people fuck in the pussy all the time without getting pregnant?

He climbs onto the bed next to me and wraps an arm around me, cups one of my breasts in his hand. When his thumb brushes over my nipple, I whimper and arch up into his fingers. It feels so good, it's like torture; compared to my numb pussy, my nipples are hyper-sensitive, sending shocks of melting pleasure down through my core.

"This looks a little sore," he observes, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the tight nub. "Have you been playing with your nipples? Are you rough with yourself here because you're frustrated?"

I shake my head and moan, rubbing my thighs together. My skin feels so wet and sticky. "Another woman...she got mad at me. She pinched them."

"Rude of her."

"She's a bitch."

He laughs in surprise, then tweaks my nipple between his fingers. I whine and kick my heels against the bed.

"Oh, please. Please!"

"What do you think? Could you come like this, if I keep playing with your nipples?"

"I don't know," I sob. He moves his attention to the other nipple, rubbing and tweaking it, and then he leans down and licks it a couple of times with his tongue. Nobody's ever done that to me before, and I go really still, melting down into the bed as the pleasure grows to a pleasant heat inside me. Maybe I can come like this, I think, if he keeps going.

He closes his teeth around my nipple, biting firmly, and I squeal like a pig at the sudden shock of pain and start kicking again. "No! Stop, stop!"

He's laughing again when he pulls his mouth away from my breast. "Alright. Settle down. I'm going to take a little nap."

"You're gonna what?" I demand. He smiles.

"We have plenty of time. I had a long drive here, and you wore me out, milking my cock like that."

"I didn't do it on purpose. I couldn't even feel it," I whine, and he chuckles, then puts a hand over my mouth to shut me up.

I whimper into his palm, but there's no point in arguing; I'm tied up and numb. He's the one in charge.

He settles down onto the bed next to me and falls asleep fast. Or maybe he's pretending. I can't imagine falling asleep that fast in a new place, but I've never been away from home before. Even just moving into the room with the other Sin Wives was a big change for me.

An hour or so passes, and I'm slowly getting some sensation back in my pussy. Not all of it, but I can feel something; the muscles are still squeezing away, over and over, like it's trying to figure out where his cock went. The fact that my hips are still propped up on the pillow, like I'm being presented for breeding, doesn't help.

I squeeze my hips together and groan. I can feel the touch, but it doesn't do much for that aching need inside me.

I start imagining again. I'm thinking about all the things in the room I could hump, if I wasn't cuffed down, if my pussy weren't still mostly numb. Even the idea of rubbing my wet slit across the wood floor is appealing. That's how bad it is.

I spot the wooden posts on the footboard of the bed. They're shaped at the top into decorative little oblong eggs, and I think about whether I could fit one of those in my cunt, if I stood over them with one knee on the bed. I moan and rock my hips involuntarily, my pussy pulsing at the idea.

The man laying next to me hums and stretches. I woke him up. His hand goes immediately to my pussy, grabbing and kneading, and I gasp and arch into his touch desperately. "How are you?" he asks. "Starting to get feeling back?"

"Some," I whimper, humping into his hand. Not enough. He knows it; he chuckles and then lifts his hand away before bringing it back in a hard slap, smacking my pussy and my clit. The shock of it is mostly mental; I can't feel it enough for it to hurt.

"Here. Settle down," he says, pushing my squirming hips down onto the pillow again. He pulls out a little device from somewhere, something shaped like a little egg or a bullet. He presses into the side of it, and it starts to vibrate.

"What is it?" I ask, wary again, and he laughs, like that's a funny question. He doesn't answer, either. He just nestles the little device down between my labia until it's snug against my clit.

"Oh. Oh," I grunt, shuddering and rocking my hips. It's like the vibration of the laundry machine, but better, and right where I want it. If I weren't still so numb from the cream, I'd be coming, I'm sure of it.

My desperate grinding and thrusting dislodges the little device, and it rolls down onto the bed. He grabs it and puts it into place again. "Stop moving so much if you want it to stay there."

I whimper and nod. I do want it to stay there. My feeling is coming back, slowly but surely, and the vibrations feel amazing. It's hard, though; my thighs tremble with the effort of not moving. My body wants to push into the device, wants more pressure, more vibrations, more, more, more. My pussy is greedy with need.

He climbs off the bed and stands there for a moment, watching me strain and pant, fighting to keep myself still. "Good girl," he says, and touches my stomach, making me shiver; then he goes into the bathroom.

He's peeing. He doesn't bother to shut the door. The sound of his urine splashing into the toilet makes me realize suddenly that I have more needs than just coming, and some of them are getting kind of urgent.

When he comes back, he stands over me and just watches again, like he's enjoying the little squirming motions I'm forced to make to satisfy my body's need to thrust without dislodging the toy.

"I need to pee," I inform him, between panting breaths.

"Mm," he says, acknowledging my statement, but not really responding. He doesn't move.

"Really. I need to."

"I'm sure you do," he says, patting one of my knees. "But I'm also sure that if I uncuff you and let you go to the bathroom, you'll be rubbing your clit as soon as you finish. Maybe even before."

I grunt. He's not wrong. I have more sensation back, now, and I'm starting to realize that the little device resting on my clit isn't going to get me there; maybe if I could reach down and press it into me, or if I hadn't had so much time to get used to the vibrations when I was numb. But in my current position, the vibrations are just melting my pussy without getting me any closer to coming. My fingers, though...if I could just get my fingers on my clit...

"I won't," I lie. He laughs. I groan. "Really, I'm gonna pee the bed if you don't let me up soon."

"Okay. You have two choices." He points over to the little jar of numbing cream. "Choice one, I put more of that on your clit, and then let you up to pee."

"No," I whimper. I don't want more of that cream on me, ever.

"Choice two, you wait until after I fuck you again and you come on my cock, and then you can go pee."

I think hard about this, or try to. I'm kind of distracted. My thighs are trembling with the desire to mash together, to crush the little buzzing device into my clit, but I know if I bring them together I'll just knock it away.

"How long until you fuck me again?" I ask, finally.

"I guess that'll depend on how quickly I get hard again," he says. His cock is just a little chubby now, clearly aroused from watching me squirm and sweat but still mostly worn out from his earlier orgasm.

"I can suck on you to get you hard," I offer, and he smiles, like that was the right answer.

He climbs on top of me, straddling my chest, and I suck his cock into my mouth. It's a different angle than I'm used to, but he's not the first guy I've sucked; it's one of the ways they're allowed to use us Sin Wives, though usually they prefer the ass. It's a little funny to have him start out soft in my mouth, but it means that more of him fits in.

I start out suckling gently, then more firmly as he hums in encouragement. His cock grows in my mouth slowly; it takes a couple of minutes, a couple of minutes of my hips shaking under the buzz of the little toy, my bladder and my pussy both complaining at me.

Finally, he pulls out, patting my cheek. "That's good. Good job." He's nice and hard now, and I'm panting, because I can feel the cold air in the room tickling over my pussy and I can't stop thinking about how it's going to feel to have him shove his cock up there now that I can feel it.

"Please, please," I beg.

He slides down between my legs and grabs the vibrating device off my clit. I groan and bite my lip, rolling my hips as the stimulation goes away, missing it even though it was a terrible tease. He shushes me and pushes my hips down onto the pillow again, and then I feel the tip of his cock at the entrance to my pussy and my brain nearly whites out. I really, really feel it.

"Oh yes. Yes, yes, yes," I start chanting. As he pushes into me, it turns into a wordless cry. His cock is so thick and hard, it feels absolutely perfect, like exactly what my pussy has been waiting for all these years.

He presses a hand down on my stomach, and my howl of pleasure turns into an uncertain squeal as my bladder twinges. He laughs.

"Please, please, please," I beg again, and then gasp and toss my head back as he thrusts deeper into me, his cock spearing me open, pressing against all the nerves inside of me that are waking up again. "Yes. Oh, yes."

"How does it feel?"

"Yes," I groan. My pussy is squeezing on him over and over, and I feel so, so close, even though he's not even touching my clit. "Please, more, more--I'm--" he rocks deeper into me, and I groan and whimper urgently, rocking my hips. He gets the message and thrusts hard into me, pushing the rest of the way in in one quick stroke, slamming hard against my insides, and I scream as my climax bursts out of me.

I'm thrashing and kicking, howling, squeezing down on his cock over and over, and each squeeze makes it go on longer, shoots my pleasure to new heights. I feel like I've lost my mind, like I'm having that religious experience that Leader always expects us to have during sermons. He should've just been letting me come this whole time; then I would've gotten it.

When I finally start coming down, the man is still fucking me, rocking his hips slow and gentle into my clenching pussy. It still feels fucking amazing. "Ohh-hh," I groan, then wince as my bladder twinges. "Ohh. I need to pee."

"Not until after I finish fucking you," he reminds me, smiling. I whimper, then gasp in pleasure as he thrusts into me again and again. "You came pretty hard. I'm surprised you're still conscious."

"Uhnn," I grunt. "Ohh. Feels good."

"I bet." He's not thrusting any faster, though; he's going slow and leisurely, like he's on an afternoon walk. It's kind of maddening, because my pussy is still grasping away like it wants to be squeezed and fucked hard, and my bladder is aching. I need to come again. I need to pee.

"Harder," I beg, squirming. He shakes his head.

"I want to go slow with this one."

"Ohh, no," I groan, arching my back and wrapping my legs around his waist. "Please, you can't!"

"I can do whatever I want," he reminds me. He puts his hand on my clit, rubbing slowly, and I whine and shudder. "Do you want me to go faster so you come again? Or do you want me to finish so that you can go pee?"

"Both. Either," I whimper, and he laughs and keeps rocking away inside me in those slow, grinding motions. It's driving me insane. The pleasure is building again, just as intense as before, like my pussy already forgot that it got to come once and is convinced this next orgasm is going to be its first one in years, too. I feel so stuffed full of cock, he's rubbing up against all kinds of places inside of me that have wanted attention for so long. Each in-thrust jostles my bladder, too, making me want to cross my legs. Soon I'm whimpering and rocking against him, trying to urge him on, trying not to wet myself.

"Ohh, you have to go faster," I beg.

"Do you really think so?" he asks, like I'm making some kind of mistake.

"Yes, yes, please!"

"Alright," he says, and picks up the pace. At the same time, he starts rubbing his hand over my clit again.

I immediately start whimpering, high and desperate, squirming my knees against him, because it's overwhelming. He's pushing me closer and closer to another orgasm, making my body clench down on my full bladder.

"Ohh no. Oh no," I gasp, suddenly very worried that I'm going to piss all over myself when I come. I barely felt in control of my body the last time, and this orgasm is going to be even bigger, I can tell. "Oh no, no, no. Please!"

"No?" he asks, still pistoning his hips into me at that steady, firm pace.

"I need to pee! Please let me up! Then we can--we can--oh no!" I whimper as he rubs faster across my clit. "I won't be able to hold it! If you make me come--"

"I don't mind," he informs me, and I groan helplessly, because I mind! I mind a lot! I don't want to fucking piss myself! But I need to pee so bad, almost as bad as I need to come again.

"No, no, no! No! Oh--oh--"

"I guess if you don't want to wet yourself, you'll just have to do your best to hold it," he says calmly, and then he's fucking me even faster.

I'm screaming. I'm squirming and thrashing, speared on his cock, twisting like I can get my bladder out of the danger zone; that's not possible, because it's locked right in the middle of it, right where he's folded me over to fuck into me, right where my body is crunching down as he drives me closer and closer to another earth-shattering orgasm.

I stop begging him to let me up, because I think if he stops, I might die. I need this exact orgasm so bad, and I'm way too close to stop now. The pressure from my bladder pressing back against my womb, against the inside of my cunt, is adding to all of it, a perverse sort of pleasure that I'll never admit to, but I think he knows from the way he's smirking at me.

"Almost there?" he asks, and I wail helplessly. "You can go ahead and pee, if you really need to."

"No," I whimper. I need to come. I need to pee. I need to hold it. "No, no--oh--" his cock rams something inside me, something that feels so fucking good that I feel like I'm about to piss myself because of how my body clenches down. "Oh, oh, oh--" he's hammering away at that spot on purpose now, and then I squeal and nearly black out, my body going rigid and shaking as I come and come and hang on by the skin of my teeth to my full bladder, pouring all of my will into not letting a drop of it spill out.

The pressure from my bladder prolongs the orgasm, too, until it's almost too intense, leaving me whimpering like an animal as the mind-blowing pleasure slowly recedes but my body keeps convulsing and cramping down on his cock and on my overfull bladder.

"Wow," he groans, thrusting faster. I start sobbing with discomfort, because my pussy is over-sensitive and because I might wet myself anyway if he doesn't finish soon. Everything down there is trying to relax now that I've come. I feel like I'm sloshing every time he pushes into me.

"Please, please, please," I whine, and he grunts like that turns him on, so I keep doing it, even though it's pathetic. "Please finish, please!"

He thrusts into me one more time and comes. I'm shaking with the effort of not peeing myself. I start yanking anxiously at the cuffs.

"Alright, alright," he says soothingly, uncuffing me; I'm terrified that he'll need some kind of key, but he just has to press a little button and they come off. Even so, I barely make it off the bed fast enough, and some of the liquid trickling down my thigh as I scramble into the bathroom isn't from my pussy.

When I finally get on the toilet and unleash my bladder, it feels almost as good as coming again. I groan and tremble with relief and with the echoes of orgasmic pleasure, like some of it got imprinted on the muscles that were all locked up to keep the pee in.

He sits up on the bed and whistles and claps, like I've done a trick. I blush and bite my lip, squirming my toes against the tile floor.

I'm embarrassed, but I also feel better than I can ever remember feeling in my life, drifting on a haze of post-orgasmic bliss and relief from the desperate need to pee. I don't really know what to do with myself.

After a few minutes, I clean myself up. I wipe up the inside of my thighs, too, using damp toilet paper to wipe away the juice that my pussy has been splashing everywhere along with the small dribbles of urine that had leaked out at the end. When I return to the bedroom, he's reclining on the bed, looking immensely satisfied with himself.

"How was that for your first proper vaginal intercourse?" he asks, smirking up at me. I chew my lip. It was really, really good, but I also think he's kind of a twisted fuck, and I don't know if I want to say either of those things. He grins like he knows what I'm thinking, anyway. "Come lay down. We've got another couple of hours still."

I lay down on the bed next to him, and tentatively offer my hands for him to cuff me back up. He shakes his head.

"I don't think we need those now. I just didn't want you rubbing yourself off before I got a chance to make you come."

"Okay." I settle down onto the pillow, and find myself blushing when he wraps an arm around me, pulling me close to him to cuddle again. This is new, too. Nobody cuddles a Sin Wife. It had been frustrating last time, but now, with my pussy satisfied and my whole body still tingling with pleasure, it feels nice.

"Do you--" I blurt, then stop myself, because I know it's a stupid question.