“What’s this surprise you have for me, dear?” I enquired.
“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” he replied.
“Jeremy,” I chided, “it had better be good.”
“It will be. I guarantee.”
My interest was piqued.
We arrived at our favourite sex shop.
“This is hardly a surprise,” I said.
“Just wait, you’ll see.”
We entered and greeted the owner, Mistress Melody.
“I’m going to pick out some items,” Jeremy said, disappearing into the shop’s innards.
“Has he told you?” Melody asked.
I shook my head, lowered my voice. “No, what’s happening?”
She smiled wickedly. “I won’t say. But it’s invite only.”
“What’s invite only?”
Jeremy re-appeared, two items held in his arms; an open-cup bra and crotch-less chaps, both in black leather.
“We’re having some naughty action tonight, are we dear?” I asked.
He only smiled.
“Why don’t you put them on?” Melody suggested.
“Don’t you mean try on?”
“I know what I mean. You know where the changing rooms are.”
Something was going on, but what? Excitement still stirred in me, but trepidation now too.
I entered the changing room cubicle and swapped my tee-shirt and jeans for the chaps and bra. The chaps were tight against my thighs, but not unpleasantly so. I admired myself in the cubicle’s full-length mirror: my big but firm breasts, the toned lines of my stomach, the sparkly piercing in my navel, my smooth, shaven pussy.
The curtain of my cubicle fluttered. “Ready?” Jeremy asked from the other side.
“I guess.”
The curtain was pulled back. Jeremy stood before me.
My husband held out his hand. I put mine in his. I didn’t know what was happening, but I trusted him implicitly.
“Close your eyes.”
I obeyed.
He led me from the changing room. I was aware of the environment surrounding me. The ground beneath my bare feet changed from carpet to wood. I had the sensation of going through a door way. The smells of the shop’s leather clothing ended and new odours filled my nose. But smells of what? People? I started to feel nervous again, desperate to know what was happening.
We hadn’t gone far, but I guessed we were in the rear of the shop.
“Stop.”
I stopped. He released my hand. I let my arm drop to my side, where it dangled like the other one.
“Put your head down, honey,” he whispered.
I did.
I whispered too, curiously afraid to raise my voice. “What’s happening?”
Jeremy leant in closer, his breath on my ear. “We’re going to put on a little show for an audience. A kind of demonstration.”
Audience?! My heart fluttered. A moment of panic hit me. The competing emotions of anxiety and excitement flowed through me!
“Open your eyes.”
I slid my eyelids up. I was looking at the ground, parallel lines of wooden floorboards. I was aware that the room was quite large, but I daren’t raise my gaze any further. The air against my bare breasts and exposed pussy reminded me of my nakedness.
Within my cone of vision, I saw Jeremy circle me, slowly. I heard the familiar snap of a crop as he smacked it against his palm. My body pulsed with anticipation of the expected pain. My pussy began to moisten.
He circled me once, then again, teasing me by keeping me waiting. Then he circled me once more, delaying still the sting of leather on my skin.
Please, I wanted to beg. Please strike me.
My breath quickened, my stomach feeling tight at the same time. I needed to feel the pain on my skin.
He struck me on my back. The snap of the crop rang out in the near-silent room. I winced.
He struck me again, a little lower down. Then again, higher up. I ground my teeth together, mentally absorbing the pain.
He stopped in front of me. “How does that feel?” he taunted.
“It hurts,” I said.
Jeremy stepped back, struck me across the stomach. Again. And again. And again. And again. I shut my eyes, grimacing at the stinging. My stomach was glowing red.
He rubbed a hand against my burning belly, and slid it down to my crotch. My pussy was already moist, my lips swollen and red with blood.
He split my lips and poked a finger inside me. I moaned.
He pulled it out as quickly as he’d put it in. My momentary pleasure was ended. Again, he was teasing me.
“Put your head up.”
I lifted my head. Now, for the first time, I could see my situation. I suppressed a gasp. The room was bigger than I realised and crowded. All along the wall before me, two lines deep of people watched in hushed fascination. To the left and right I could see more too, but I dare not turn my head to discern how many. Were there any behind me too?
I set my gaze straight ahead, trying not to catch anyone’s eye. I guess I should have felt embarrassed, shame, but all I could think about was the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure which was still waiting for me.
“Suck it,” Jeremy instructed, poking his wet finger in my mouth.
I wrapped my mouth about his fingers, licking my juices off it.
He pulled it out, then whacked me on the abdomen.
“Ouch,” I couldn’t help but exclaim.
“Quiet!”
The struck me on the stomach again, then lower down, slapping the crop’s head against my cunt. I gritted my teeth; what would have been a yelp came out as a muted mmmm noise.
“Take these off,” he told me.
I unfastened the bra and pulled the chaps off. Meanwhile, he swapped the crop for a short leather whip.
Without hesitation he whipped me across the arse. My skin burnt from the blow, my body jerking as it was struck.
He struck me again, from the left. Then again from the right, punishing each cheek in turn. I saw some audience members crane their necks, wanting a better view.
Left then right, left then right. I shut my eyes to the pain.
He repeated the pattern, once, twice, three times.
Tears welled up in the corner of my eyes. They rolled down my face, leaving little wet trails.
My mind was distracted by his hand on my pussy again. I opened my eyes to see him on his knees before me, two fingers sliding in and out of me. The pleasure was a welcome sensation. The heat in my groin spread from the pussy, radiating through my body.
Jeremy fucked me harder and harder with his fingers. I wanted to moan and scream out my pleasure, but I knew that would get me a rebuke. A few of the audience members leant forward, obviously wanting a better look. Jeremy’s head was blocking most of the action from their view.
I felt incredibly horny, stood there in that room of strangers being finger-fucked by him. No embarrassment, no shame – just a sublime feeling of power, even though I was powerless.
Faster and faster his fingers forced their way up and down in my cunt. He was bringing me closer and closer to orgasm.
My breathing increased, my orgasm nearer. Yes, yes, I thought to myself instead of out loud.
It was coming, I knew it was close. I wanted to fall to my knees, they felt weak.
But then he pulled his fingers out!
He had denied me my pleasure!
“Hands and knees. Head up.”
I lowered myself as instructed. Head facing forward, my eyes were level with the audience members’ legs. I saw trousers, jeans, skirts, shoes, sneakers, high heels, sandals.
Jeremy pulled down his zipper, and got out his near-erect cock. He stroked it to a full erection. I opened my mouth. He slid it in.
He moved his hips back and forward, fucking my mouth with his dick. Slowly at first, then faster and faster he drilled his cock into my mouth.
He pulled it out so I could breath. I gasped for breath, strings of spit dripping from my open mouth as I gobbled in air.
He put it back in and resumed fucking me.
“Beg,” he instructed, pulling out again for the final time.
I raised my head as far as it would go, tongue poking out.
He put a hand about his wet cock, tugged it as semen spurted from the head. It squirted onto my face and tongue. He tugged a few more times as the final drops of ejaculate spurted onto my waiting tongue.
I swallowed his salty juice then stuck out my clean tongue, not just for him to see but for my audience too.
“I think that’s enough for tonight,” he said.
I glanced about. There must have been at least a dozen men in my immediate view, and my pussy wanted filling.
“The hell it is,” I said.
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