Your Wish... Or Mine?

Written with much appreciated editorial help from BritslutJenny

Warning: This is a tale with a BDSM theme and some cruel passages. If you do not like that kind of stuff don't read it. But if you do, please let me know whether and why you enjoyed it.

Your wish... or mine?

ONE

I was shocked, and to be honest, also a little annoyed. You, John, my husband of two years, my dearest lover, asking to lend myself for such outrageous things.

Watching me intently, an earnest frown on your face, you said: "I am serious, Anne, I am very serious."

Sitting next to you I froze. Refusing to respond.

But in reaction to my extended silence you nudged me on. "Well... what do you think, Anne?"

I was still too shocked to answer. It took a while, but then I poured myself a big glass of Scotch. This proposition was outright idiotic, and to say the least, awfully debasing as well. So I took a large gulp and answered you quite rudely: "I don't think so... if you don't mind. What do you expect? It's a straight 'no' of course!"

"But Anne, I love you..."

"So?"

You looked into my eyes, as if to assess your chances. I sensed anxiety, fear to lose my love. Then, while you kept looking at me, you took a deep breath and explained: "I've had these thoughts ever since we met."

"Why... You never told me...."

"I always feared this might ruin..., I mean..., make you stop loving me. I couldn't bear that. But those feelings... you know..., sometimes they are so strong..." Your speech was trembling now, and a slight wetness seemed to glimmer in your so beautiful eyes.

Suddenly I felt sorry for you. So I wrapped my arm around your shoulders. "How could I ever stop loving you?" I asked. "Come here, my crazy boy, let me kiss you."

But there was a hesitant retreat, followed by a thin faltering voice, almost begging. "Please Anne, I would enjoy it so much, Anne, please..."

I poured myself another glass, a real big one, and drew you against me, embracing you like a frightened child. Finding your mouth, we kissed. I fumbled with your blue shirt, feeling the hardness of your hairy chest. You moaned...

It made me want to kiss that chest.

But you stopped me, gently pushing my hand away, saying: "Not now, Anne, just give me your word, tell me, would you do it for me? Just once? Please..."

I took a large swallow from my glass. It's always been difficult to say 'no' to you.

You noticed my hesitation and pushed on further, repeating: "I've had that urge for so long, Anne, please..."

"Urge...? John, you have it even now?"

"Yes...," you nodded, "even now. It's... it's a wrecking imagination, you know. But it makes me hot. I can't stop it. Please Anne... please, you would make me so happy." You closed your eyes and swallowed hard, showing me your so delicious Adam's apple. As always it made you indescribably irresistible. That moment I melted and knew that I would not be able to refuse you anything... not now, not ever... haven't I always loved being your plaything during sex...?

So I was lost.

And to my alarm, I found that I actually had become a little aroused by those mad ideas of yours.

So I gulped down one more mouthful of booze. I needed it to give me the courage to ask for clarifications. "You mean with anyone...? Eh... I mean... do you have... I mean... someone in mind? Someone we know?"

Immediately you opened your eyes wide, and smiled as if I had liberated you. Then, you bent over and, almost conspiratorially, whispered in my ear: "Dan."

I was taken aback. Dan is a former boyfriend of mine. We used to kiss in his car. I remember well that he always wanted more, but that I never agreed. So nothing serious ever happened and he gradually lost interest in me. But we remained friends over the years. Every once in a while we have dinner with him and his wife Ruth, and they with us. They are both rather sizable, but he is also strong and has always remained attractive. I never really liked his wife that much, at least not her appearance, with her unkempt hair and her heavy frame, although she can sometimes have a sweet mind.

"Why Dan?" I asked, now feeling a bit light headed. "He would never do a thing like that." Then, by way of argument I added: "Apart from that, he's married."

"So? We're married as well, aren't we?" you said, smiling wickedly. And, with your eyes shining like those of a child being promised a treat, you continued to whisper: "I'll ask him to bring Ruth as well. How about that?"

Now I was really shocked. "You'll ask what...? What do you think she would say? You don't believe that she... I mean... I'm not a dyke."

Your eyes sparkled. "Who cares."

"I do."

"But I don't," you said with a sudden cruel smile. "On the contrary. It would give me an extra thrill." I guess that you must have seen how that caused the blood to drain from my face, because hurriedly you hugged me and whispered in my ear: "I like to frighten you, little one, it gives me a kick."

Feeling a little disoriented I asked you to put down my empty glass. I must have had too much to drink. In the bottle on the little table before us, not much remained. Whisky usually does not sit easily with me when I drink such quantities so quickly. You know that. You must have prepared me by putting that bottle before us.

Hearing myself speak, I asked, trying to make it sound like a joke, "The three of you against me then?" My voice was a note too high. I had definitely become aroused by now, notwithstanding, or maybe because of that combination of whisky and your weird ideas.

You did not hesitate a second, and nodded. "Yes, my love, all three of us. That's the whole point. But we would be in it together."

Silence.

For a long time.

Sitting uneasily next to you, I stared at the bottle and at my empty glass on our little table. You began to caress my hair.

I let my imagination run on like a silent movie, seeing myself as the star actress. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. I could see it might have advantages to serve not only you as a lust object, but two other people as well. Maybe there'd be some secret pleasure in it for me. My crotch began to itch. However, my mind made a last ditch attempt to resist. "But they aren't swingers... not as far as I know." It sounded lame, and spoken with a slightly thickened tongue.

"Neither are we," you laughed, and kissed my neck. Then softly you said it again: "Don't let me down Anne. Don't let me down." And you directed my hand to slowly caress the bulge in your pants.

So, against all odds, your crazy fantasy, combined with that enticing promise below your belt, seemed to take away my misgivings. It must have been quite obvious to you that the idea evoked in me a certain erotic interest. Although it made me feel a bit disconcerted, this bizarre concept definitely had a bewitching power.

So I took the leap, and kissed your lips.

The kiss became long and passionate. But fear of your fantasy slowly took over, distracting me from your captivating manly scent. You sensed it and allowed me to gradually disentangle from our embrace. Thus we remained silent, sitting next to each other, like a couple of uneasy teenagers, not knowing how to continue. I decided I'd had enough to drink for the day. It must already have clouded my mind, and made your proposal more appealing than it really was. I stared out of the large sliding windowpanes opposite our couch. The leaves were colouring. "Maybe you should wait a bit," I proposed hesitatingly.

You didn't speak. But you knew I had yielded. You got up and poured yourself the last remains of Whiskey.

"No."

It was a short and resolute answer, brooking no argument. Sometimes you can be quite cocky. And this obviously was one of those occasions. I always enjoy your presence, your body, your love, but I had to watch out for your mind.

TWO

More than a week had passed since you had confessed to me that erotic fantasy of yours. More than a week had been given to me, to play with that mad idea. I knew that you could have an unbending will. And I also knew that you're always been a bit controlling in matters of sex and that, more often than not, I like to be your little plaything. It never bothered me. Not until you came up with those thoughts. I should have seen them coming. But let me be honest: by now your strange desires had undeniably become contagious. Even to me.

"Please undress, Anne. Time is up."

"What... here? In our living room? Shouldn't we..." But my words were cut short by a resounding slap in my face. "There is no 'shouldn't we' for you tonight," you said with a surprisingly sharp voice. It shook me. You'd never been like that before. But no real anger rose in me. I realized that my time was up indeed, and that today things would be different. Quite different.

You stood opposite me, your face transformed by a sudden wanton lust. And my own panting made my breasts heave. Even though your sudden metamorphosis gave me shaky knees, you had also awakened butterflies in my belly. So, although still reeling from that slap, I did obey.

Soon I was standing completely nude before you. You've seen me like that often enough, but this was different. Everything was different. Calmly you looked me over, assessing my nakedness as if appraising me. You had never done that before. I felt suddenly embarrassed, heat rising to my cheeks. Slowly you lowered your gaze away from my face towards my crotch, which I always keep nicely shaved and smooth for you. Your eyes lodged there for quite a while. I waited, feeling unusually shy, and keeping my hands, by sheer force of will, away from my shame. Then you fixed your eyes on my growing nipples. I didn't want it, but the scoundrels were swelling, all of their own volition.

"Give me your hands."

I extended them to you. You had no eyes for my trembling. With a white silken rope, which you seemed to have brought out of nowhere, you bound them together, locking my wrists in a knot so tight and so professional, that it made me wonder how you knew to do this.

"You look adorable," you said as you stepped away, watching me from a little distance to judge your handy work. "You won't walk away now, will you?," you said with a teasing smile. A bit confused and at a loss for what to say, I used my bound hands to cover my shame. But I felt a distinctly erotic twinge. "No I won't run," I conceded. "What is it you want me to do now?"

Once again you smiled and took my hand. "You'll see, lover," you said and you led me out of the room, into our hallway. There, you made me lean with my back against the vertical wooden bars holding the handrail of the stairs. I obeyed uncertainly.

"Up with your arms, love," you said. Dutifully I raised my bound hands, feeling some unexpected moistness between my legs. You ascended the stairs behind me, and proceeded to tie the cord with which you had bound me, to one of the wooden palings high over my head. Stretched out like that, I suddenly realized how vulnerably helpless you had made me. Especially because I couldn't hide my bald femininity, even if I wanted.

You stepped down and studied me. I felt more naked than I ever had, but a weird eroticism fired my loins. You recognized it and kept looking at me. A satisfied smile gradually appeared on your face. But powerless as I was, I could do nothing to get my arousal under control.

You smiled again, and gave a good-natured pat on my love mound. "You'll wait," you said, "until Dan and Ruth are here." Then you turned around without saying a word, and closed the living room door behind you.

Left alone, standing imprisoned and naked in our hallway, I felt rather bizarre. Nothing happened. I had no choice but to wait indeed. A soft tinkling made itself heard behind the door of our living room. It sounded like you were handling glasses. In my imagination I saw you putting wine and nuts on the table for the guests. Then silence.

It took long, very long. I never realized that time could run that slowly. Gradually I began to relax. All I could do was to stare at the front door and our coat rack, counting the coats over and over. The ones for summer, and the ones for winter. From time to time I watched the clock on the wall. Almost half an hour passed. You briefly reappeared, then climbed the stairs behind me to come back with a handful of clothing, closing the living room door behind you. You had not even looked at me.

My stretched up arms began to ache and started to prickle. And my legs became fatigued from enduring this standing posture. But I had no options. I began to fantasize about how Dan and his wife would react upon seeing me like this when they arrived. But there were simply too many possibilities and my arousal just went up and down with them. So after a while I decided to let things happen as they would come.

Time went on. Another fifteen minutes passed. You did not reappear. I started day dreaming and found myself recalling how you and I had met two years ago, how we make love, what the hotel rooms look like when we travel (which we do a lot). When the time just kept dragging on further, I began to think about more mundane things, like what flowers should be planted in our garden, when should we clean out the shed, or what we should have for dinner tomorrow.

Then, suddenly, the shrill sound of our electric doorbell startled me out of my reveries.

The living room door opened and you appeared. You were now dressed in a white shirt, half open to partly reveal the grey curls on your chest. And you wore the dark black jeans I love so much. Walking with a spring in your step in your black sneakers, you entered the hallway, briefly smiling at me on your way to the front door.

"Hi Dan, Ruth, come in. We're all set and ready, come in... come in." But, the guests did not move. "Oh... yes..." you said as you saw them stare at me, "Maybe you should say hello to Anne. She's been waiting for the two of you." His voice was light and happy. But Dan and Ruth remained frozen on the threshold. They kept staring at me standing there, bound in helpless nakedness. I felt the blood soar to my face, and I closed my eyes, not daring to meet theirs.

"Jesus..." Ruth finally whispered, still watching me. "Jesus John, that's quite a welcome." Briefly I lifted my eyes, and saw how they both kept staring at my bound nude body and my openly displayed crotch. Then, quite unexpectedly, Ruth, in her low, deep voice, asked: "Does she enjoy this?"

"I don't know," you answered. "Ask her."

She smiled and obeyed. "Anne, do you like being exhibited like this to your former boyfriend?" And not waiting for a reaction, she added: "and to me."

I didn't know how or what to answer. There was only a horrible feeling of shame and deep mortification. But at the same time, I was somehow excited by this awful humiliation, and to my chagrin I felt my arousal rise. "Look at her nipples," Dan said in his baritone voice, his face blushing red. "She seems to be in quite a sexy mood." He gently rubbed my nipples with the palm of a hand, then proceeded to softly feel both my breasts, readily exposed to him in all their vulnerability. "Maybe we should try and hang our coats on those," he chuckled. The three of you laughed. Dan had broken the ice. You embraced Ruth, kissing her on the cheek. And, to my relief, when you took their coats, you hung them on the coat rack.

But Dan didn't take his eyes off me. He approached me, and now started to slowly caress me between my thighs.

"Cute little cunt," he said to his wife when he ended his malicious handling. He tapped my breasts once more, and addressing you he said: "They aren't as big as those of my dear Ruth, but still rather nice. I'm happy to see them finally." And turning to me he asked: "Remember you didn't want to show them to me?" He smiled to his wife, who smiled back. "I'm happy you think mine are better", she said. Dan grinned appreciatively. "Sure," he said, "yours are bigger, there's more to grab on to. You're the best. But that does not mean I wouldn't like to play with these here." And as if to illustrate that remark he slapped my breasts with both his hairy hands. I shrank back from the assault, but it seemed he did not notice, and addressed his wife again. "Would you like her to milk me?" he asked, "I think you'd enjoy watching." His wife smiled back at him. "You'd want that eh...?" she answered, "but yes, why not? I wouldn't mind to witness her suck your balls. It would certainly please me."

And so on.... and so on... I wished I could sink and disappear into the ground.

"Come in," you interrupted their discussion of my body, opening our living room door. "There's drinks waiting. Did you bring your whip?"

I couldn't believe what I heard. A whip? Oh my God! I hadn't imagined that! Panic rose in me like a sickening flood. But I didn't hear their response, because the door closed behind them, leaving me alone in the hallway once again.

Panic! Panic! This mention of a whip overwhelmed me. It caused such a dreadful fear, that my heart suddenly boomed in overdrive. I had expected you to allow those two to play with me. I was still not sure whether I would like that. But I certainly had not anticipated them whipping me. It changed everything. My arousal disappeared from sheer shock. Nausea filled my stomach as I realized that, bound naked and defenceless like this, I could in no way escape their whip if they decided to use such a thing.

Behind the door I now heard noises of talking and laughing, alternating with short silences ending with sudden cracking sounds. And each time, after a brief pause, the voices resumed. Were they testing that whip? I began to tremble all over. Dread tore at my mind like the ripping claws of an attacking lion. Gone was really all sense of arousal. I could only think of the horrid pain awaiting me. Attempting to control the fear, I tried to focus on any other sexual pleasure they would want from me. I would have to grant them that. Even to Ruth, although the thought of being forced to suck Dan for her pleasure triggered a new wave of nausea. But giving them the joy of watching me in blazing pain... that was different, unthinkable.... I would be unable to live through that.

Suddenly the door opened and you, accompanied by Dan and Ruth, appeared. They were clearly excited, with flushes of sexual arousal colouring their faces. As they unfastened me from the banister railing, I began to shake uncontrollably.

THREE

Soon I was standing naked and trembling before Dan and Ruth, you holding me firmly by my shoulders, my hands still bound before me. Then, suddenly, I saw you and Dan exchange glances. He got up, leaving Ruth behind on the couch. She crossed her fat legs and took a sip of her wine. I closed my eyes, and felt arousal climbing high up against me. I was in such a state of excitement now, that I almost felt obliged to play their game. So I forcefully willed my trembling to stop and, with that movement of abandon I know you like so much, I threw back my head, letting my long wavy hair fall like a curtain behind me. I must confess that the gesture made me feel even more aroused than I would have thought possible. Dan remained standing in front of me, his former girlfriend. Ruth, who had been looking at me from the couch, now moved too. She got up and, to my surprise, began to slowly undress Dan, revealing to me (and to you) his hard muscular nakedness. I looked on in awe.

Dan's member stood proud and straight, fully engorged and high from his body. He suddenly grabbed me by my hair and pushed his mouth on mine, his hard flesh throbbing against my belly.

The sensation of Dan kissing me like that, now also grabbing my breasts, while Ruth watched from the couch, will last me a lifetime. Even in my humiliating position, being held upright by your strong arms, my sexual arousal flared. That must have been clear as day to all three of you. When I turned my head and glanced furtively at you and then at Ruth, I could definitely see that you both tremendously enjoyed watching what was happening. I let Dan tongue me for a long time, then returned his kisses ardently. Turning once more to you over my shoulder, while you still held me up on my shaky legs, I noticed a strange grimace on your face. I wasn't sure what it meant. Did you enjoy this? Or did you want to cry out to Dan that you're the one who should be kissing me, that it's you who really loves me? I wanted to call out to you, but I couldn't. Ruth - as if to punish her husband for his infidelity - had suddenly grabbed under her skirt and stepped out of her panties, stuffing them in my mouth and ordering her husband to secure them with duct tape.