5 comments/ 64300 views/ 7 favorites Our Daughter's Friend Ch. 02 By: toomuchinmyhead AUTHOR'S NOTE: I suggest reading Part One. * "We have to go to Parent's Weekend to see Rosie," Monica told me. Her tone had the same awkward, forced affectation all our conversations had held for the past months. After the event with Desiree we didn't speak, expressing our mutual fear and shame with our silence. We conversed politely in front of our daughter, and in social situations, but in private we awkwardly avoided each other. When summer ended Rosie had gone back to school for her senior year and we settled into an edgy remoteness, talking only of household needs as though we were roommates instead of the loving spouses we once were. I don't know what she thought of the events with Desiree, or how she felt; we had never discussed it. For the first few days after that evil, manipulative bitch left our house we hid from each other. As days passed we inevitably saw each other, passed terse words, and eventually settled into this silent agreement that the subject would not be raised, and that we would only talk to each other in public, in front of friends and family, pretending that nothing had happened, nothing had changed. But in private everything had changed. I had no idea who Monica was anymore, having seen a side of her that she had never shown before; a debased, disgusting willing participant in the most frightening sexual event of my history. She scared me, and the conditions that I participated under scared and shamed me. Truth be told, I was just as frightened by my willingness to participate. Desiree had blackmailed me, sure, but I had gotten excited, and enjoyed the sex. Seeing my wife acting so sexually had aroused me, and I was ashamed of my participation. And I had too easily surrendered to the idea of fucking a young college girl. I tried unsuccessfully to convince myself that I had been forced to participate, but I knew in my heart that I enjoyed it, and the desire scared the hell out of me. "Why?" I asked. "We haven't gone in two years. We went her first year of school; that's what parents do." I avoided her eyes as I spoke. I still couldn't look at her without seeing Desiree's Pet, the woman who willingly choked on my cock, and licked my cum from her Mistress's young pussy. "I already told her we'd go," she replied meekly. "You told Rosie we'd go?" I snapped angrily. "Without discussing it with me first?" We were eating dinner, and I slammed my fork down. "What the hell, Monica?" I looked at her, feeling the anger on my face, and she winced as she saw my expression. "Why would you do that without asking me?" "She -- she told me to..." she trailed off. "Rosie told you to come up?" Monica lowered her head, her hands in her lap. I couldn't see her face, but when I opened my mouth to keep yelling I saw her shoulders trembling, and my anger softened a little. "I'm sorry," she squeaked. "My -- my -- my Mistress..." "Your WHAT!?!" I bellowed. She raised her head then, looked at me, and steeled her nerve. "My Mistress told me to tell Rosie we were coming up. So I did." As much as she had screwed her courage to say the words, her lip trembled, and her hands came to the table, shredding her napkin. "I'm sorry, Roy. She called. She told me we have to come to see her, and to tell Rosie we were coming." "Fuck!" I screamed, and slammed my fork down on the table. "I couldn't say no," she continued, pleading for my understanding. "I couldn't. I tried, but she, she" she paused, took a breath. A tear trickled down her cheek, and I remembered her, crying as she licked Desiree's shaved pussy. "She Ordered me." I could hear the importance the words held for her as she said it. "God damn it, Monica!" I blasted as I stood and knocked my chair over. I felt the fear, then; the terror of the young girl's power over us, the seductive and manipulative control she wielded. She had seen something in my wife that I had never known; a desire to be controlled and commanded, a willingness to do unspeakably debasing sexual things, and she'd used it, and blackmailed me into participating, seducing and threatening me into the hottest and most frightening sex I'd ever had. She had left our lives a shambles, and now she was back. In a phone call she had turned my wife against me. We talked late into the night; me berating her for her weakness, she alternately defending and apologizing for the same. She begged me to go along, telling me she needed to see her, but I insisted we resist, that we defy her, break ourselves free. In the end I turned her to my side. We would go, we would see our daughter, and we would stand up to this seductress Desiree. If need be we would confess to Rosie what had happened, and take her friend's power over us away. Time and distance from the event that afternoon had given me courage, fired by my anger, but I needed Monica with me, standing strong against a seemingly harmless college student. In the end I got her commitment that she could resist, WOULD resist, and would stand with me. And so a few months later we found ourselves pulling into a hotel parking lot near the college and unloading our bags for the weekend. Monica moved in silent trepidation, while I had boundless nervous energy. We had spoken sparingly on the ride up; the only words passed between us were to bolster our resolve to end this debacle. We had arrived a day early, not telling Rosie, so that we could confront Desiree and lay down the law. We settled into the room and after arranging our clothes, I volunteered to go get us some takeout while she cleaned up after the trip. I was back in under an hour to find the hotel room empty. Monica's cell phone lay on the center of the still-made bed, blinking a new text message. I flipped it open to see: MESSAGE FROM: MISTRESS ROY. CALL ME In a panic, I dropped the phone. My chest tightened and I began gasping for breath. Had she kidnapped Monica? I immediately thought of calling the police, but when I considered what I would say to them, I discarded the idea. "Officer, this girl, she kidnapped my wife," I would tell them, "to force her to have kinky sex." They would ask how I knew that, and even if I lied, I would have to admit what had happened at our house, even if I said that she blackmailed us both. How, they would ask. I would have to tell them something. And then when they found her, Desiree would tell her side, how my wife went to her willingly. Could I count on Monica to stand with me, to swear to my lies? And how would I explain that the girl's phone number was in my wife's cell listed as 'mistress'? There would be public announcement, a scandal. I was willing to tell Rosie what had happened, but I didn't want our family publicly humiliated. I frantically tossed the options back and forth in my head for almost another hour. Finally, feeling trapped and defeated, at least for the moment, I picked up the cell and dialed. "Hello, Roy. It's nice to hear from you." Her voice dripped with antagonism. "Where is she!" I barked. "What have you done with Monica?" "Relax, baby, she's fine. She's with my friends." I wondered what kind of friends this girl had, then remembered that our daughter was friends with her. "Do you want to see her? Come and see me, we have some things to discuss." "You release her right now, or-" "Or what, Roy? Or you'll tell your daughter about what I've done with you and my little pet?" There was silence as I wondered how she knew, then felt crushed as she continued. "Do you think my pet hasn't told me your plans?" I heard her snicker derisively. "Come to me, Roy. We will talk, and you will see your wife. I will send the directions to Monica's phone." She disconnected. In a few seconds the phone chirped with driving instructions. Confused and desperate, I stumbled to the car and followed the directions to a house a few miles from campus. As I came to the door it opened, and Desiree was there, that evil seductive grin I remembered glowing on her face. "Roy! Good boy, you got here quickly. Come inside." She was dressed casually, in jeans and a tee shirt, and her young body strode confidently as I followed her inside. I fought against recognizing the seductive attraction of the young girl's body. We sat in the living room and she offered me a bottled water. I took it and drank, not realizing till then that I was parched. I looked around the room as I drank. It was obviously a student rental house, the mismatched furniture and décor an obvious collection of salvaged and discarded pieces. She sat on the couch across from me, and curled a leg underneath her, lowering her head and looking at me with hostility and disdain from under lowered brows. "You've disappointed me, Roy. You disobeyed my instructions, and squandered my gift. You've made me very angry." I said nothing, resisting her efforts to control me, concerned for Monica's safety. "Worse than that, you conspired against me, and tried to turn my little Pet against me. That was bad, Roy. Very bad." She grinned. "Fortunately your wife was obedient enough to fill me in on your little plot, so I was able to work around it. She is reaping her reward for her loyalty, like a good pet." Her grin became sinister. "Did you really think you could defeat me, Roy? Did you really think you could take her from me?" She laughed then, a short, bitter sound coming from someone so young. "You don't know who you're up against, any more than you know your own wife!" "Where is she?" I demanded. "I want to see her, now." Her voice became angry and sharp. "Easy, Roy," she snapped. "She's fine. You'll see her soon. You just cool your jets a little while, so we can straighten things out between us. You have some things to answer for!" "I won't succumb to your will," I insisted, "you- you-" "Watch it!" she snarled, leaning forward in her chair. "You watch your words, or I swear to God I will take Monica from you and you'll never see her again!" I swallowed my words at the threat, my chest tight, and my arms and legs twitching nervously. She looked me up and down. "That's better. Control yourself. Nothing is happening to Monica that she doesn't want," she said slowly, as if explaining to a child. "She's a wonderful Pet, Roy. She has almost no resistance, no hesitation. And she missed me. She missed pleasing me; she wants me to control her. Her desire to obey me is so complete, it becomes desire to enjoy herself, no matter what I tell her to do." Her voice softened a little as she spoke. "I thought you understood, after our little ... dalliance in your home," she smirked. "I thought you understood that about her now, that I had made that clear. And I thought you were on board. You said you were..." she trailed off, and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "You can't make me do anything," I insisted feebly. "Monica and I agreed, we'll tell Rosie about you, what you did, how you made us -- do things." "I know, Monica told me." She shook her head and laughed to herself, mocking my defiance. "Your resistance is almost cute. It would be cuter if it wasn't so inept and useless." She laughed again, and reached for her water. "Silly man. Do you think Rosie doesn't know how I am? What do you think we were fighting about that day at your house?" She drank, then chuckled. "Oh, you're something. You're in this so far over your head. Go ahead, tell her. Explain to your precious little girl that you fucked me because I threatened to tell her that her Mom is a submissive slut who can't resist licking my cunt. Go ahead. It doesn't matter." "Don't talk about my wife that way!" I blurted, still clinging to the idea that Monica and I were in this together, that we could get past it, extricate ourselves from this web of debauchery. "Roy," she stood, taking a few steps to a desk in the corner, where a laptop sat. "Do you want to see Monica?" "Yes, dammit! I told you that." "Come over here, sit." She motioned to a chair in front of the small desk. "See your wife." She opened the laptop and clicked the mouse a few times, opening a video player. "See what she was doing before you came over." The screen burst to life with images and sound, and there, in front of my eyes, was Monica, my sweet Monica, on her hands and knees. "See? This was her reward for her obedience." She was mostly naked, grunting as a young man shoved his hard cock into her mouth. Behind her, a tall black fellow was fucking her doggie style, and she gasped every time the cock pulled out of her mouth. "Those are my friends, some of my boys. They're enjoying her pretty good, no?" I felt suddenly light-headed, and slumped in the chair as Monica's voice begged the man to fuck her harder, to make her cum on his cock. It felt like all the blood had drained from my head, and I nearly passed out. I blinked hard several times and found myself staring, entranced by the images. Monica reached to the laptop and froze the video. In the frame, Monica's mouth was stretched wide with the boy in front pressing his stomach against her nose, her throat bulging, and the black hand of the boy fucking her was pressed deeply into the flesh at her hips. She put her lips to my ear and whispered breathily,"I guess you're not ready to see her as she really is, huh?" Her question dripped with amusement at my reaction. "And I guess it's hard to admit that she's a submissive slut." She kissed my ear, and I felt her tongue play at my earlobe. "If it makes you feel better, she didn't come here to have sex with those boys. She came here for me. She's doing that because I told her to; told her to enjoy it." She reached over and rubbed my crotch, feeling my shrunk and wilted cock. "Not exciting you, Roy? Let's watch some more," she teased. She reached for the laptop and the video resumed, my wife bouncing between the two young boys, her body shifting forward and back between their cocks, impaled at both ends while she grunted and moaned with apparent delight. I stared in shock as Desiree pulled a chair alongside me. "She's hot, Roy, isn't she? Look at her taking that cock in her pussy, she loves it," she tormented, leaning into my ear to make sure I heard her over the sounds assaulting my senses. "She's making me hot. Is she making you hot?" She reached for my crotch again, this time fondling and rubbing my member. I felt it begin to react, and steeled myself. "Is she liking my friends?" As I watched, the black guy pulled all the way out, his cock was long and thick and it glistened with her wetness. He motioned to the other guy, who pulled his cock from her mouth with a wet pop. For a second her head lunged forward, mouth open, trying to recapture him. In a flash the tall black kid moved her, turning her to him, and he laid himself down on his back, pulling my wife on top of him, kneeling above him with her knees at his sides, straddling his torso, and he reached between them as she settled her hips. Her mouth opened with a loud moan as he re-entered her. Then he grabbed her shoulders, and kissed him, her mouth open. I gasped as I saw their tongues wrestling as she panted into his mouth wetly. Until then, I guess, I could still tell myself she was being forced, but she was kissing him passionately, hungrily. She WANTED to kiss him. It was a deep, desirous kiss, and it hurt me even as my dick began to harden in Desiree's hand. "Here's the best part," she whispered in my ear, and watching my wife tongue-kiss the black college stud, I almost missed the boy behind her, stroking his cock, making it glisten. Then his hands were at her ass, and she grunted into the prone boys mouth as he held her shoulders down. And the young man behind her grabbed his shaft, aimed, and pressed in. On the screen, Monica squealed, half pain and half delight. He was pushing his cock into her ass! Against my will my cock began filling, and Desiree noticed. "O-oh, you like that?" The boy behind her was moving back and forth; as I watched, more and more of his young stiff rod disappeared inside her back door. "So, whaddaya think, Roy? Is she liking getting her ass fucked? Is she liking getting doubled by my young stud friends?" I opened my mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Monica, shouting from the laptop speakers. "Oh, fuck yeah, fuck my ass! Shove you r cock in my ass and my cunt! Fuck!" Desiree laughed. "Well, I guess that answers that question!" She reached for the laptop and froze the video. I stared at the still image, seeing my wife's pale flesh displayed, the muscles in her legs straining to hold her in place, her head angled up, mouth frozen open in a howl of pleasure. Desiree squeezed my cock, now fully hard. "Looks like you enjoyed it, too!" she quipped, and released me and sat back, angling her chair to mine to face me. She reached for my chin and turned my head to hers, away from the image on the screen. "She didn't turn against you, you know," she explained, again like she was addressing an innocent. "You never had her. She was mine the whole time, since the day at your house, when she first swore herself to me." He voice became playful, teasing. "I knew I had her. I thought I had you, as well." Her lips curled and her eyes darkened. "I certainly had you that day." The smile vanished. "But you, you ungrateful, spiteful man, you turned against me. After you promised, you broke your word." She leaned into me, hissing her words with venom. "I told you to use her, to make her mine, keep her mine, through you. But you ran away from her, wouldn't talk to her." She sat back again, relaxing into her chair. "She told me everything. When I told her to come see me, to tell you to come up and see Rosie, I warned her that you might turn on me. That she would lose me. She couldn't bear it. I told her to play along, to get you here. And here you are," she added, leaning forward again, and grabbing for my crotch. "Oh, too bad, soft again. We'll have to fix that." "I won't do what you ask," I told her, trying to sound stronger than I felt. "You can't make me. I will confess to Rosie. She'll understand." A thought occurred to me, and I used her words against her. "You said she knows how you are. She'll believe me." "Oh yes, she will," Desiree snarled. "That threat won't work on you, not anymore." Her eyes narrowed. "But listen to me, and hear me, Roy. You WILL submit to me. Not as willingly as your wife, but you will. Just like last time." She leaned in and lowered her voice; I turned my head away. "Or the next time I show you a video, it will be your sweet little innocent Rosie on the screen, getting her cunt and ass pounded." She grabbed my face in her hands, turned me to look into her eyes. "Would you like that? Would your dick get hard then, like it did watching your slut of a wife? You want to see your little girl debase herself at my command?" She threw my face back. "Because she is just like your wife. I will make HER my pet, if I can't have you." The idea of Rosie participating in such an event was too much, and I felt my remaining resolve leave me. Images of the video I had just seen flashed through my head, but this time my little girl, my sweet innocent daughter, was doubled over, calling to have her ass fucked. I could hear her voice in my head, and I shuddered, and lowered my head in defeat. I took several breaths, and resigned myself to cooperate, while a knot of anger grew in my stomach for my weak-willed wife, for putting me in this situation. I turned my head to Desiree. "Fine," I whispered. "What was that? I didn't hear you," she mocked. "Fine," I repeated, louder. "I cooperate. I'll- I'll do what you say." I couldn't hide the hostility in my voice. I glared at her, and she laughed carelessly, dismissing my emotion. "A-aw, how cute, Roy is angry. You want to be angry, you want to take it out on someone? Why don't we go upstairs and see what your wife is up to? Would you like that?" Our Daughter's Friend Ch. 02 "She- She's here?" She laughed at me again, and grabbed my crotch, fondling my member through my pants. "Take this out," she said. "I want to see it." "Monica is here?" I asked again. "Take it out, Roy!" she repeated. "Take out your cock, show it to me, and I will take you to her." Teeth clenched, I reached for my zipper, pushing her hand away. I steeled my breathing as I pulled it down and fished out my cock for her. Stiffening but still flaccid, I flopped it out of my pants. "Oh, that won't do," she mocked. "Stroke it, get it hard." She grinned. "Do you need me to turn the video back on?" Crushed and shamed, I began stroking myself, remembering the images of Monica, calling for the boys to fuck her harder, sucking cock into her throat. My defeated libido betrayed me, and my cock hardened. She waited until it was completely hard, then smiled and stood. "Very good, pet," she smirked. "Come with me." Our Daughter's Friend Ch. 03 AUTHOR'S NOTE: I suppose this could stand on its own, but you might want to read 1 and 2 to get the setup. Of course everyone is over eighteen, and safe sex, and marriage commitment, blah, blah. It's fantasy. Even if someone in the story gets hurt, no one gets hurt. Thanks for reading, voting and commenting. * I was humiliated as she took my hand, my hard dick jutting out from my open zipper, and she led me up two flights of stairs, passing open doors with people in them. I heard snickers from in the rooms as we passed. Finally we stopped at a closed door. I felt Desiree release my hand, and take my cock. "What do you think she's doing right now?" She put her ear to the door in an exaggerated mime, opening her eyes wide, mocking me. She giggled madly. "I don't hear anything. I wonder if she's taking a nap?" She squeezed my hard cock and pulled me to her. "Not likely," she grinned, and opened the door. She led me in by my cock, parading me past three people sitting in the room, two guys and a girl. One of them was the tall black fellow I had watched fucking my wife. My face reddened in shame and embarrassment as she introduced me to them as 'her New Pet's Husband'. If she was trying to humiliate me, it worked. There was pride in her voice, but I felt none of it. I had my hard cock out of my pants, following the orders of a young college girl, standing in front of a young virile black fellow who had just fucked my wife. I reminded myself that I was trying to rescue Monica. "Say hello, Roy," she ordered me, introducing Lisa and Paul. "And you know Jeffrey," she sneered at me. "Tell him you enjoyed the show." I stood cringing in shame, frozen and unable to speak. Yet I remained hard. "Did you hear me, Roy?" "Yes." She squeezed my cock, hard. "Yes? Yes, what?" I remembered Monica's answers. "Yes, Mistress Desiree." The trio laughed at me, and my face reddened more, but my dick remained hard in her hand. "Tell him you enjoyed it, Roy. Thank him. Then we can see Monica." "She's inside with the others," the girl offered. My heart leapt in my chest, thinking I could see her, reassure myself that she was all right. "Thank you," I managed to squeak out, "for taking care of my wife." I hung my head in powerless humiliation as I thanked a total stranger for fucking my wife. All three of them laughed, and then ignored me. Desiree smiled victoriously, and we passed through the room to the door. Desiree swung it open unceremoniously and pushed me inside. There were four people there, including Monica. Except for my wife they were all young, athletic and good-looking. Monica was naked, sitting on a small couch, her legs spread, working a dildo into her pussy as the others watched her. "Look, Pet, your husband is here for you," Desiree said, walking to Monica and stroking her hair as though she were a beloved puppy. "Are you entertaining my friends as I asked?" "Yes Mistress Desiree'" she responded, and the devotion in her voice drive a knife into my heart. I took in the sight of her. There was fluid dripping from her pussy, which was shaved completely bare. When had she done that? Her pussy was red and swollen, the lips puffy with arousal. Her hair was a mess, and traces of what had to be cum streaked her face and hair. Despite my dismay I was aroused at the sexual nature of her actions, although for the life of me I didn't understand why. She turned to me and met my eyes. "Hello, Roy. Thank you for coming." As she spoke her eyes glazed a little, and began to roll back in her head. I recognized the onset of her orgasm. She was getting off fucking herself in front of these strangers while I watched. Everyone was silent as she rode her orgasm to its climax, listening to her grunts and groans as she fucked herself through it. She crested, and rode it down, slowing her strokes, and relaxing back into the couch. "Very good, Pet," Desiree said approvingly, then left her to return to me, standing in the middle of the room with my shameful erection standing out from my pants for all to witness. "Your turn, Roy." She leaned into my ear. "Remember what I told you about Rosie. Don't let me down again." She stepped back. "Go to your wife, now; show my friends what a good Pet you can be." I kept my head lowered in shame and stepped to my wife, but glanced up at her face to see it shining in anticipation. "Take your pants down, Mr. Pet, and drop to your knees." I had my pants opened before realizing I was following her commands willingly. She had me, and the thought chased away the remnants of my resistance. I dropped my pants and briefs to my ankles, exposing myself completely to the watchers, and lowered myself to my knees before my submissive wife's spread legs. "Nice ass," I heard the other girl's voice, "for an old guy." "Monica, dear, would you be kind enough to remove that toy from your cunt so your husband can clean it off?" I watched her begin to slide it out. "With his mouth." I could hear the smirk in her voice. The tip of the dildo cleared her opening and turned to me. A string of slime connected it to her as the tip neared my lips, and brushed them, and I realized it was another man's cum. I shuddered, but my mouth opened obediently. The smell of semen greeted me, and then Monica pushed it towards me as I moved my head forwards, taking half the shaft inside my mouth. The flavor of her pussy was overwhelmed by the bitter taste and slimy texture of another man's load, and I balked briefly, before sucking on it, and swallowing the mixture. "He's a good one, Des," I heard one of the boys say. "You've outdone yourself. A Married couple!" Laughter greeted the comment. "A new low!" he chided. "Look at him, sucking my cum off that dildo!" I blanched in shame, knowing that the owner of the semen I was swallowing was watching me submit myself to Mistress Desiree's commands. My wife, eager to please, was swirling and pushing the toy into my mouth to the delight of the audience. When I had sucked it clean she pulled it out with a pop and held it up, triumphant. "Her pussy, now, Mr. Pet." I looked down between my wife's legs. I had never seen her hairless before, and the sight was mesmerizing. Her newly shaved mound was slick with drying cum residue. The insides of her thighs glistened wetly, as did her puffy, swollen labia. Her clit hood stood proudly at the top of her lips. But between her labia I could see her pink insides, and her red hole contrasted with a glob of white cum pooled at the bottom of her opening. I looked at Desiree, then back at my wife, then back at Desiree. I remembered Monica licking our Mistress's pussy after I came inside her, licking my cum out. One of the boys behind me had deposited his load here. And what about that black fellow? Was his here as well? How many others? I turned back to Desiree in time to see her approach me, anger in her stride. Her hand grabbed the hair at the back of my head, and her lips came to my ear. "Remember the video, Roy. Think of what I will make your little Rosie do!" she hissed at me, and pushed my head down. I resisted briefly, but felt my face get closer. The seconds before I made contact were overwhelming to my senses and emotions: I felt the heat from my wife's pussy, the scent of her arousal confirming the fact that she had enjoyed the various cocks fucking her, and the strong bleachy odor of male ejaculate. In the second it took to close the gap I was furious and resistant to Desiree, felt hostility and betrayal at my wife, protection for my daughter, and an odd desire to do well, to please my wife and my Mistress. And then my face was pressed fully into my wife's wet, sloppy cunt, Desiree's hand pushing hard on the back of my head. Unbidden my mouth opened and my tongue was bathed in a mixture of flavors and textures. Another man's cum, possibly several men's cum, filled my mouth as my lips closed around her labia, and my face pressed into the wetness around her genitals. I burrowed my tongue inside, digging for more, then spread her labia with my fingers, pushing my lips between them, and sucking the cum out. The slimy texture of semen coated my tongue and teeth, filling my mouth with the result of my wife's willing debauchery. I swallowed, and went in for more. I was barely aware of the lewd and disgusting comments of the people watching as I licked my wife's hole clean, sucking out her cum and the semen. I heard the door open and more people came in, making comments and jeering at my obedience and enthusiasm, mocking my debasement in harsh terms. I felt my already stiff rod become harder, and when I felt I had extracted all the cum from my wife's used hole, I moved my tongue up her wet slit and began working her clit. She moaned in appreciation and bucked her hips against my face. In seconds she was cumming, and she bathed my chin and face in her juices as she thrashed and squirmed on my face. I wanted to take her then, to fuck her hard, slap her face and choke her while driving my cock hard into her cunt; I want to fuck her viciously, to pound her until she was bruised and sore and begged me to stop, crying and apologizing for her weakness and betrayal. But Desiree announced that the show was over, and told me to stand. She made me shake the hands of the men and thank them for fucking my wife. "You must have liked it," one boy said, motioning to my hardness. With shame, I admitted that he was right. One girl stroked my hard cock as she thanked Desiree, then squeezed it painfully. The other one smeared her fingertips in the pre-cum that oozed from my tip, and rubbed it on my lips. When they left I was still standing , half-naked and hard, and Desiree told my wife to get the harness for her. She bounded off the couch in her eagerness to please, and pulled a strap-on harness and large dildo from a nearby drawer. She undressed her Mistress and helped her put on the harness, working the dildo into the ring. It jutted proudly from Desiree's lovely hips, and I was a little jealous. Desiree directed my wife onto her back, with her legs spread, and drove her fake cock hard into her, making her grunt as it surely pressed too far into her. Desiree grinned. "Pet, tell your man how good that feels." Monica's face turned to me, her eyes dreamy and loving. "Oh, baby, she fucks me so good. Even after all the cocks I've had tonight, she feels so wonderful inside my cunt!" "Yes, my Pet, you love when I fuck you, don't you?" "Oh, yes, Mistress Desiree, fuck my cunt hard! Take me for your pleasure! Pound my cunt!" "You hear that. Mr. Pet? Do you hear your slutty wife?" She leaned to me, grabbing my hair, and pulling my face to hers. "You hear what a filthy disgusting slut she is for me?" She laughed and licked my ear. "She was never like this with you, was she, Roy? She never let go like this, gave herself over to her passion, did she?" I could feel her hot breath in my ear, and it sent tingles down my spine to my aching erection. She pulled her fake penis out and rubbed it lightly on the outside of my wife's pussy. "Oh, put it back in, fuck me," Monica moaned. "Beg me, Pet. Let your husband hear you beg for your Mistress's attention!" "Please, Mistress Desiree," my wife pleaded. "Please put your cock back in my cunt and fuck me! Please! Please I need you to fuck me, fuck my willing cunt!" She grabbed at the face dick, trying to aim it at her pussy, but Desiree held it away, allowing only the tip to brush between the swollen lips of my wife's gaping sex. "It's all for you, all yours, please, fuck me!" The young girl thrust herself back in, interrupting Monica's pleas, and turned back to me as she began pounding her, hard and remorselessly. "You like that, Mr. Pet? Do you like hearing your wife beg for my cock?" She laughed victoriously. "Does that make you angry? Do you want to shut her up?" I looked at my wife, my formerly decent and loving spouse, and barely recognized the thrashing, wanton beast getting her cunt reamed by the younger girl who controlled her. Anger raged through me; anger at her weakness, her willingness, bitterness at her betrayal, the risk she had imposed on our daughter and our lives. And resentment, too; resentment that she could be this sexual, this wild, but had never offered this version of herself to me, her husband, her partner. "Shut her up, Roy," Desiree whispered in my ear. "Stuff your balls in her mouth! Do it!" In a flash I was straddling my wife's head, facing our Mistress, and dropped my groin onto her face, my ball sack landing on her mouth, and I felt her lips wrap themselves around one of my testicles, sucking it in. I pressed lower, dropping my ass to her face, feeling her nose against my anus. Even with her air cut off, she sucked on my swollen nut, sending chills of erotic stimulation through me. I lifted up, allowing her air, and shifted, dropping the other ball into her mouth. She sucked just as hungrily. Wet slurping sounds assaulted my ears, mixed with the sounds of Monica's wet cunt getting fucked hard. I could feel her tongue swirling around my scrotum as she slurped and sucked at my balls, and my eagerness grew; my desire to punish her, to debase her, competing with my willingness to comply with our Mistress's commands. I was doing what I was told, but now I WANTED to, I was liking it, enjoying making my wife suck my swollen nuts, making her perform a lewd act for my own enjoyment. My head went light as the thrill of the moment took me. "Suck my balls, Monica!" I bellowed, and my hand found my cock and began stroking. "Suck them with your filthy mouth!" "Oh, yeah, that's it, Roy, use her! Use her for me!" I heard the words, but knew that it wasn't for her, for Desiree, but for me, now. I was getting off on the power, the debasement of my submissive wife, even as I submitted to Desiree. Unbidden, I shifted forward, still stroking my cock, and popped my balls out of her mouth with a wet sucking sound. Even as I felt her saliva cooling on my sack, I lowered my ass to her face. I felt her tongue at my back door, and groaned. "Oh, yeah, you filthy slut, lick my asshole! Fuck it with your dirty tongue!" "That's it, Roy!" Desiree encouraged. "Use her! Use her like I would! She loves it!" The words registered, but I was overwhelmed by the feel of my wife's tongue forcing itself into my rectum, pushing against the muscle, working its way inside against the tight muscle. Feelings of elation and freedom rushed through me on waves of stimulation from my sensitive back door. The muscles loosened, and opened, and her tongue entered me, digging inside my anus. My hand worked harder at my shaft, and the sensation in my ass drove currents of passion to my brain, and to my cock. I felt my climax begin. "Oh, yeah, I'm gonna cum!" "Yes, my Pet, cum for me, shoot your cum for your Mistress!" I grunted, feeling myself pass the point of no return, trying to hold it back, straining not to release, knowing it would make the inevitable explosion stronger, more powerful, more pleasurable. I stroked my cockhead, edging myself to my climax, dancing at the precipice of release, until I could not hold it off any longer. My balls pulsed and my sphincter tightened on the wet muscle penetrating me, and I felt the first strong jets of semen launch up my shaft. I threw my head back and shouted as my hot cum blasted out the tip of my cock. Holding it straight up, the first blast launched high in the air, boosted by my resistance, and striking my face; I bellowed my release as the next volleys erupted from my shaft, pulsing out the top of my cock and running down the shaft, coating my fingers and my balls. I stroked and grunted through the rest of my climax, as my balls clenched and emptied, and looked down at my hand and cock as I regained my breath. My shaft, still wrapped in my hand, was completely coated in cum, and the slimy goo dripped off my fingers and down to my relaxed, loose ball sack. I was still, and looked at Desiree, who had stopped fucking my wife. "Give it to her," she hissed. She pulled her cock from Monica's cunt and slipped three fingers inside her loose hole. "Make her suck your cum off your balls." I lifted my hips off my wife's face, and dangled my dripping ball sack above her mouth. I looked down at her, between my legs. Like a hungry bird, she lay with her mouth open, waiting for sustenance, and I watched the first creamy white globs drip into her mouth, pooling on her tongue. She extended the pink muscle, trying to entice the rest of my load from my wrinkled skin, and she swallowed as it dripped down into her open mouth. She made eager, hungry sounds as my cum dripped into her mouth, sounding vile and disgusting and so very hot. I pushed my cum down my shaft, forcing it to drip down my balls into her mouth, watching it fill, and close, and swallow. Several drops landed on her lips as she swallowed, and she licked them off hungrily. It was disgusting and strangely arousing to see her like this and I watched with fascinated horror, but my thoughts were interrupted by Desiree's voice. "Your fingers, Mr. Pet," she said. I looked down at my hand, seeing the fingers coated and dripping with cum. I lowered my hand toward my wife's mouth. "No. You do it." Knowing instantly what she meant, I looked at her, and then I wanted it, too, and I raised my hand to my own mouth, and began licking my load from my fingers, tasting my own cum, noting the difference between my flavor and texture and the cum I had eaten from my wife's cunt, the mixed cum of several other men. As before, I did it willingly, then enthusiastically, running my tongue up and down my fingers, getting every drop of the slimy coating, relishing the scent and flavor, and understanding my wife's actions below me as she licked all around my balls, cleaning me off. "Don't swallow," I heard my Mistress whisper, and I held the residue of my climax in my mouth, feeling it pooling as I licked my fingers clean. And then her mouth was on mine, her tongue digging inside my mouth, and I forced my reward into her mouth, sacrificing my pleasure for hers, giving her the treat I wanted, because she desired it, and I wanted to please her. Her wet mouth sucked mine, and when she had extracted my slimy goo and saliva, she smiled at me, and pushed my torso back, away from my wife's head, exposing her wet, cum-slicked face. She grinned evilly, and lowered her face, hovering about a foot away from Monica. My wife glared wildly at her Mistress in anticipation, and opened her mouth to receive the awful gift. But instead of passing it to her, she pulled her fingers from my wife's wet pussy and jammed them into Monica's mouth, filling her mouth with her own wetness. Monica groaned and sucked the fingers, closing her lips around the younger girl's digits, and I saw Desiree's head move slightly as she inhaled. And then she spit the entire mouthful of mixed cum and saliva into Monica's pretty face. It was violent, and sudden, and the glob splashed onto her nose and cheek, covering her eye. I watched the mess strike her, and she startled and her mouth opened, and Desiree slipped her fingers from Monica's mouth. The disgusting glob began to spread at the edges, dripping slowly down the side of her wet face, dripping into her hair and ear. Desiree stroked the other side of Monica's face with exaggerated affection, as you would a dog or cat. "What do you say, Pet?" Monica's eyes opened, and she stared into Desiree's with a devotion I had never seen in our married life, a look of love and need and satisfaction that belied the stain of fluid covering half her face. She was contented, and beautiful and awful to behold. "Thank you, Mistress Desiree," she whispered. Our Daughter's Friend Ch. 04 AUTHOR'S NOTE: Fantasy fiction of a married couple and their newfound submission to a younger girl. Probably the last of the series. Thanks to all who stayed with the series, and to all my readers. Apologies for the delay in getting chapter three posted. I submitted it Jan 6. The Lit crew rejected it for a reason that didn't actually exist. I think maybe they got it mixed up with another story. So I had to resubmit. If this is your first read in the series, it might stand alone, but you might want to check out 1-3 for the background. * The next morning we went to see Rosie, and spent the weekend with her, going shopping, dining, meeting her friends, her regular friends. We did not see Desiree anymore that weekend, but the events of the first night had altered my relationship with my wife again. For the months after the first incident, at our house, when my wife first submitted to her, we had not spoken, regarding each other politely in front of our daughter and in public, but not communicating otherwise. Alone with Rosie for the two days we were compelled to converse, and it seemed that the extreme events of the recent night with Desiree had broken down a barrier between us. We no longer forced our conversation. Mentally and emotionally, we were connected, bonded together. I relished the time with my daughter, although several times during the weekend I had flashes of the threat Desiree had made, of turning her into a willing sub like her mother, and each time I silently committed that I would never allow that to happen, no matter what unspeakable acts I needed to commit. But further inside I knew that there was no danger of turning against Our Mistress. Unwilling and resistant at first, I had experienced the power of control as well as being controlled, and I recognized my desire to continue in that vein. Performing the humiliating sexual acts in front of her group of friends had been oddly liberating. I had survived, and allowed myself to enjoy being told what to do, and to enjoy doing it. I began to understand my wife's willingness to submit, but still struggled with her need to be for it. Then later, commanding my wife to do things had been empowering, feeding my ego and my libido. I wanted more of both, and knew that I would never disobey Desiree again. Late Sunday afternoon we said goodbye to Rosie and got back in the car to begin the long ride home. With rest stops we were looking at eight or nine hours on the road. On the way up, things had been tense between us, but they seemed more relaxed as we got on the highway and headed for home. We spent the first twenty miles or so in silence, but without the tension that had sat like a third passenger on the way up, threatening to tear us apart. Instead we each were lost in our own thoughts, mulling over what had happened, and how we felt about it. Monica broke the silence first. She had been sitting against the door, gazing dreamily out the window, and then suddenly turned and reached to me, resting her hand on my leg. "I love you," she said, and any remaining animosity evaporated. I put my hand over hers. "I love you, too, Mon." I told her. And I meant it, despite my memory of the feelings I'd had when I forced her to shove her tongue up my ass. Those feelings still existed; I still held her responsible for getting us into this situation, but I was less hostile about it. My submission to Desiree's commands had created a bond between us; we had shared the experience of giving ourselves over to someone else. And something about surrendering to my baser instincts with my wife had repaired and cemented the love I felt for her. And Our Mistress had again commanded me to control her, to use her in Desiree's absence. And I knew that I would, as much as I recognized that I wanted to, and that Monica needed and desired me to use her that way. Our profession of our love for each other had right-set our relationship to each other. Those simple words, spoken in honesty, said so much more, as they always had since before we were married. They said we accepted each other, would do for each other completely, not halfway but all the way. We each would live for the other, even to the exclusion of ourselves, safe and confident that neither would request that of the other. Our relationship had changed, but it was still love that I felt. It would be expressed differently from now on, but it was love, just the same. Another few minutes of silence went by. "Thank you," she said. "For what?" "For going along. For joining in, for not being mad." She paused. "For everything. It...means a lot to me." "I really didn't have much choice," I told her. I related the story of the video, and the threat of what could happen to Rosie. I told her that I would never let that happen, and would do whatever I needed to prevent it. There was silence again as the news settled in. "Can I ask you something?" she asked after a while, turning in her seat, and smiling nervously. "Of course," I answered, and again, a simple exchange let us know that we were okay, not just as individuals, but as a couple again. "Was that all? Was it just the threat?" "What do you mean?" "Well, it's just that you, uh-m, well, you seemed...not forced." I waited, sensing there was more. "You seemed to be, well...kind of enjoying yourself?" she said, he voice rising in question as she finished the sentence. "You mean at the end? Yeah, I admit, I liked that." "No. Before. All of it, really. You seemed, I don't know, different. Like you liked what she made you do, like it excited you." "I think you saw how hard I was." "Yes, who could miss that," she quipped, and giggled a little. I laughed with her. "But that's not what I mean. I knew you were aroused. But you felt more, uh-m, enthusiastic, I guess is the word." She paused. "More into it, when you were, uh-m, doing it." "You mean when I sucked another man's cum off your dildo, and licked it out of your pussy?" I stated boldly, seeing no need for the dainty word dance. "Three, actually, but yeah, that." "Three?" "Yes, three of them came in my pussy," she said, then added, just as matter-of-factly, "The fourth one came in my ass." There was silence again while I digested that, although it really came as no surprise, having seen the video. She had always avoided anything anal, and I had never really tried. I guessed that had changed, now. "Well, truth be told, yes. It's weird, you know? She made me watch you on video letting those guys fuck you in your mouth and pussy, and then your pussy and ass," I explained. "That got me aroused, even though my brain was telling me it was wrong, and vile." I chuckled. "Although YOU seemed to be enjoying yourself!" She laughed lightly. "But then she walked me up the stairs with my dick out, past people, and made me meet her friends." I told her about thanking them, and tried to describe the humiliation and shame, and then seeing her, giving the people a show, watching her, having them watch me, knowing I was her husband. "It kind of got to me, being in that position; I got excited being humiliated. So by the time she made me suck the cum off your dildo, I WANTED to do it." I stopped, thinking for a second. "Does that make sense?" "Oh, believe me, I know just how you feel," she agreed. "I guess that's true," I told her, "although I don't feel it the way you do, I think." I thought for a second. "It's still a little hard for me to understand, you know, your need for it. The way you crave it." I glanced over at her, and her head was down. I think she was blushing. "It's funny," I said, "how I never knew; you never told me." "Are you angry about that?" "A little, I think. That you held that from me." "I was afraid to tell you. A little ashamed of it, I think," she admitted. "I didn't know if you could handle it. Hell," she added, "I didn't know if I could handle it." She paused. "You were angry last time." "Yeah, that's true," I said. "And maybe you were right, that I couldn't handle it. I didn't understand it enough, I guess. But after this weekend, sucking the cum from your pussy in front of those people -- you know what really did it for me? When the guy said it was his, knowing that he was watching me suck HIS cum out of you. I think that was the kicker, for me. It was so humiliating, but so exciting, giving up my control, being forced to do something so nasty, so dirty, while they watched and ridiculed me." I grinned and glanced at Monica; she was looking at me with wonder and maybe admiration. "So I got a better understanding of how you feel." "You handled the other part well too, you know." "What, the dominating you? Fuck, that was wild. Better, I think, because she was making me do it, like I still had no control, so it was okay to treat you rough, to use you. Because I had given myself over to her, and she wanted me to use you like that." I stopped, and waited, and then decided to push a little further, to test my command ability away from Our Mistress. "You're a dirty slut, Monica. Letting all those boys fuck you, fucking yourself and letting them watch. Saying those dirty things, begging your Mistress to fuck you in front of me." I glanced at her quickly, and she lowered her head. "Did I leave anything out, you dirty obedient slut?" "I licked the ladies cunts; they made me." She was slipping into submissive mode, her voice had taken an obedient tenor. The change, while it was what I had hoped would happen, was so sudden it was a little unnerving. "But you liked it, didn't you; just the way you liked the rest." "Yes, very much," she said softly. "I know you liked it when I stuffed my balls in your mouth. And you liked putting your tongue in my ass, didn't you?" "Y-yes. Yes I did." "Did what, you slut?" "I liked licking your ass, Sir." Nice. "Good. Because I enjoyed making you do it. And you were really good at it, too." I took another glance, and she was beaming at the praise. "It felt so good to jerk off with your tongue up my ass. You were fantastic." "Thank you, Sir." I let her wait a few minutes before I spoke again. "Mistress Desiree told me that she has instructed you to obey me." "Yes, Sir," she answered, quietly, but with eagerness. "Yes, from the beginning." "But I didn't do what she told me, then," I told her. "I didn't understand, then. I still don't; not completely, but I understand better now. So I WILL follow her instructions from now on." She exhaled, then; almost a sigh of relief. "I am so happy to hear you say that." She wasn't speaking in her submissive 'Sir' voice now, but just as Monica. It was odd, hearing her switch back and forth, and it reinforced the fact that it wasn't two people, but two aspects of the same person. "I'll bet you are," I said lewdly, misreading her answer. "No, not like that," she interrupted, then added tentatively, "So I won't have to tell on you again." There was silence in the car for a few minutes, before I took a deep breath and blew out and exasperated sigh. "Well," I said, "I guess I am glad for that. But as much as I appreciate your 'situation' a little better now, I am still angry about the lying and dishonesty." This wasn't Dom/sub or sex talk, this was married couple communications, and I wondered if a day would come where that line would not be there anymore, that it would all seem the same. "You betrayed my trust. You told me you were with me, and went behind my back and told her everything." "I know, I'm sorry for that, I really am. But she said I had to, and wouldn't let me tell you." "I know, she explained it all to me." I shook my head slowly. "The crazy part is that now that we're here, in this, uh-m, 'arrangement', I am not upset by being here as much as how we GOT here," I told her. "It was your 'inclination' that started this with Desiree, and then your need to please her that prevented us from getting away from her." I snorted derisively. "All the understanding, and getting used to the idea, and enjoying it notwithstanding," I told her, "I hold you responsible for allowing this to happen." I lowered my voice a little, reassuming my new 'commanding' tone. "From time to time, I will remind you of that." "I know," she replied softly. "I will make you do things, awful things," I told her, "Our Mistress requires it. But I will enjoy it, too." "She told me to obey you," she said, then added, "Sir." "What else did she tell you?" "She told me," she said softly, but with pride and clarity, "that I must eat all of your cum, not matter where you shoot it." My desire to dominate her conflicted with my newfound attraction to be submissive. "That's very good," I said. "Do you know what she told me?" Not waiting for an answer. "She told me that I must continue to have other men use you," I confessed, "and that I must eat all of their cum." I felt my face heat with embarrassment at the memory of licking her cunt clean of the residue of three men. "That's nasty, Carl. But you like it, don't you?" "Yes," I admitted shamefully. "I think I do." My voice returned to normal, my husband voice. "It's a little scary, you know," I began. "We have done some things that are so far outside what I would consider 'normal', you know, regular sex. Things we would have considered perverted and disgusting, before." "Yes," she grinned wistfully, "we have." "And we will do more," I added. "My imagination is running wild with ideas for what I will make you do, and what I must do," I continued. "Some of them scare me, and disgust me, but strangely, I am looking forward to doing them." "Me, too," she replied. My dick was growing in my pants as visions of debasing my lovely wife ran through my head. We drove in silence together for the next hour or so, my erection growing and receding as I imagined abusing her, and stretching our boundaries, and wondering why these ideas that would have been so repugnant a few months before were so alluring now. Eventually we got hungry, and looked for a place to stop and eat. I passed a few, then pulled in at a place with a larger parking lot. I pulled towards the back, making sure that we were visible, but not near anyone, and that there were no families or children in view. I got out, stretched my legs, and Monica did the same. "Not yet," I called to her as she began walking up to the Food Court. "Come over here." I had parked with the driver's side facing away from the Food Court. I didn't want my first attempt at solo command to result in police action, but I wanted her visible; this side faced the truck entrance from the highway. I opened the back door and sat sideways, with my legs outside. Monica looked in at me curiously. Her interest grew as I reached for my belt and opened my pants. "Get down on your knees," I told her, tossing her a pillow from the back seat. I opened my pants and pulled them down past my knees as she lowered herself in front of me at the side of the car. "Suck my cock." Thinking about doing this had made me hard already, and as my briefs cleared my crotch Monica's head was already there, her mouth opening, and I felt her wet lips take the head of my cock into her mouth. I watched her bob up and down, wetting my shaft, and felt her begin to suck on the up stroke. She was grunting and showing the enthusiasm I had seen in the video, more than I had ever experienced before, other than that first time with Desiree. As she sucked me off, I talked to her. "That's it, you dirty submissive , fill your mouth with my cock. You love sucking cock, don't you? I saw you in the video, sucking that boy's dick, letting everyone see you. And now you do it here, in public, where any truck driver coming in can see your head in my lap. They will all know you're a dirty cocksucker." She groaned in response, and increased her pace. She was getting off on her public display, and I was getting off on making her do it. "Slower now, Pet," I advised, and she pulled off. "I am not your Pet, Sir," she said, a string of drool hanging from her bottom lip, her chin wet with her saliva. "I am Mistress Desiree's Pet. I do whatever she says. She said to obey you, but I am not your Pet." The definition seemed to matter to her. "Fine, then. You are her Pet." I clenched my fingers in her hair. "What are you to me?" "Your wife, of course," she said plainly, then smiled a little as my hand tightened in her hair. "And when you want, I am Your Slut." Once again I could hear the importance of the title as she spoke the words. "All right, then, Slut," I said, pulling her head down." I want it slower and deeper." She opened her mouth and I helped her push her head down until I heard her cough and gag, then released her. Her head came up and a thick strand of whitish saliva hung from her mouth. "Yes, that's it, Slut," I repeated, hearing the title in my own voice now, and beginning to understand the importance of it. "Take it deep, push it into your throat for me." She went back down, this time without my hand pushing, and made herself gag." I felt the head of my cock massaged by her clenching muscles. It was incredible! "Oh, yeah, That's the way, all the way in. Let those truck drivers see you press your mouth all the way down!" I encouraged. "Show them what a good Slut you are, how much you love to suck cock, how you love it deep in your mouth, choking you!" She pulled her head up, gasping for air, taking huge breaths as gobs of drool fell from her mouth, down her chin, landing on her shirt. It was disgusting and nasty, and incredibly erotic. Her eyes had teared, and her makeup was running a little. "Again, all the way this time," I told her, and I watched her eyes light with a fire of passion. "Then you can have my cum." She smiled. "Yes, Sir," she said, and dove back down, forcing her head onto me, and I felt my cock head press against the back of her mouth, and then push past as she gagged, and her lips touched the base and I felt her tongue at my balls even as she coughed and blew a wad of sputum into my pubic hair. She held it, then shook her head, and then pulled off, gasping and coughing, spit flying from her mouth as she stroked my slicked shaft. She looked desperate and abused and elated and proud, and I felt a thrill run up my spine at the power I had over her, the power to extend her boundaries, to command her, to free her from resistance. "Make me cum, now, Slut, earn your reward." She took a few breaths and gripped my cock in her spit-soaked fingers, and began blowing and jerking me off, using her hand and mouth together. The power trip and the excitement of the moment, combined with her aggressive sucking and stroking brought me to the edge quickly, and I held it, clenching my muscles, refusing the release until I could hold back no more. I bellowed, and felt the first blast launch into her mouth, and heard her moan with delight and satisfaction as her mouth filled with my hot semen, blast after blast shooting up my shaft. My legs shook and my hips launched off the seat, but she hung on, not releasing me from her mouth until my legs unclenched and I relaxed and finished spurting. She raised her head, making a sucking noise as her lips left my cock, still in her hand. She looked at me with victory in her eyes. "That was very good, Slut," I told her, and her face softened at the praise. "Did you swallow it?" She shook her head, lips tightly closed. "Show me." She opened her mouth, and her tongue swam in a pool of cum. She extended it, coated with the slick fluid, then pulled it back when a drip fell off, running down her chin to land on her shirt. "You may swallow," I told her, and she did. My sweet little wife, mother of our daughter, whom I had shared normal marital relations for so many years, had just given me a public blowjob, deep-throated my cock, and swallowed my cum. And as she finished, she knelt proudly before me, her chin wet with cum and saliva, and several wet spots on her shirt. Our Daughter's Friend Ch. 04 I pulled my pants up and refastened them, putting myself away, and she stood and handed me the pillow. I got up and closed the car door and we looked at each other, unsure of what to do next. After sex, in the past, it was always a little cuddling, followed by a towel to clean up, and then a change of subject, or television. "Thank you, Sir," she said, clarifying out new pattern. "You're welcome, Slut. You did very well." And I kissed her, full on the mouth, passionately, and with all the love I had ever felt for her. Our tongues met, and the residue of my climax was in her mouth, on her lips and chin, and we shared the moment of the broken barrier as lovers, feeling the wetness between our faces, smearing it between us as we held each other close. Finally we broke, and I started to the Food Court. "Should I straighten up a little?" she asked. "Absolutely not," I told her, taking her hand and pulling her to my side. "Wear your badges proudly," I told her, indicating the wet spots on her shirt. "Be as proud of yourself as I am of you." She beamed, and wrapped her hand around my upper arm, and snuggled her head into my shoulder. We ordered lightly, but I got her a large Iced Tea on the way out. I was already planning the next episode, her next humiliation. We got back on the road then. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the traffic was light. We talked nonchalantly, about mundane, married couple things, listened to the radio when we could find a station we liked. Everything seemed as it had always been, before. Two hours later we were about three-quarters home, when Monica asked me to find a bathroom. I assured her that I would stop at the next available place. We were still on the interstate, and the rest areas were twenty or thirty miles between. The only other way to stop was to exit onto another highway and look for something. I pretended to not pay attention and missed the next rest area. Monica noticed too late, and squealed as we passed the exit lane. "Carl, I really have to go," she whined. "Well," I said casually, "you'll have to hold it." "Oh, no, when is the next rest area? Probably too far; Carl, please, can we pull off." She squirmed in her seat. "Please take the next exit, we can find something." "I said," I told her, using what I felt was my 'command' voice, "You'll have to hold it." She didn't get it, being too caught up in her own needs. "Oh, God, I don't know if I can," she said, sounding irritated, "just take the next exit so I can pee." "You'll pee," I told her firmly, "when I tell you." "Carl, that's not -" she stopped. "Oh, I see," she stated, more calmly. "All right, then. Whatever you say. I will hold it until then." "Good." I glanced at her as I changed lanes to the right as we approached an upcoming exit. She looked a little relieved until I drove past it. I looked at her again, and grinned. "Not this one. Not yet." "Yes, Sir," she said meekly. We drove in silence another ten miles, and I passed another exit. "Oh," she squeaked as we drove by the exit ramp. She was beginning to squirm after that huge iced tea. "Maybe the next one," I teased. "It's starting to hurt," she complained, but not loudly. "I'll bet it is. It probably feels very uncomfortable right now, doesn't it?" I glanced over, and she had a pained, but controlled expression on her face. I knew she was suffering. "I'll be you're really looking forward to the relief you'll feel when you can finally let go, and release your bladder, and feel your muscles relax as all that awful urine spills out," I teased. "Oh, you're making it worse," she whispered. "Please, stop," she asked, then added. "Sir." "Are you desperate?" "Oh, dear God, yes," she answered quickly. Her hands were between her legs now. I wondered if she might be leaking a little, but knew that once the gates opened there would be no stopping them. "Beg me," I said. "Beg me to allow you to relieve yourself." "Please, Sir, I beg you to let me pee," "No, make it good." I turned to her, met her eyes briefly, before turning back to the road. "Beg me like you begged Our Mistress to fuck you." I heard her intake of breath. "Oh, please, Sir," she hissed, "please, let me pee, anywhere, please I need to feel my hot piss running out of me, please, I beg you; I have so much piss in me I can barely hold it any longer," she pleaded. "Please, I can only clench my pussy muscles for only a little longer, I need to pee so badly, I need to feel it release, to feel it shooting out of my pee hole, please..." she trailed off. "Very good, Slut, that was much better," I glanced again, and she was still squirming, with her hands buried tightly between her crossed legs, but her face showed appreciation for the praise. "I'll take this next exit. It's just a few miles." "Thank you, Sir," she responded. "Just a few more minutes," I said casually, "and you'll have the opportunity to relax your muscles," I teased, "and release all your piss. I'll bet there will be so much, it will feel so good to let it go, won't it?" I could tell she was straining to remain obedient; her need to relieve herself was nearly overwhelming her subservience, but she didn't. I wondered what her limit might be? A few more minutes and we took the exit, but it was another highway, and she crooned her need in a plaintive wail, seeing nothing that resembled a restroom. We drove a few miles, then began to see some industrial parks, and I knew that we would find something suitable shortly. I began scanning the buildings ahead for what I needed. Up ahead on the left w-as what appeared to be a small shopping center. I slowed and signaled, and heard her exhale with relief. "Almost there," I said, as I pulled off the road into the parking lot. I quickly scanned the lot, and it seemed not to be too unsavory, just a little old. There was a Dunkin Donuts in the far end, and I drove past it, circling the lot as she made urgent sounds. I parked in the far corner, near the road. Killing the engine, I told her, "Wait," and got out, walking around the car to her side, which faced the road. I opened her door, and helped her out. She looked across the expanse of parking lot, then back to me. "Not there," I told her, "here. Go ahead." Her eyes had a pained expression as she stood before me next to the car, facing the road as an occasional car passed. I watched as her face became serene, and she lowered her head, and sighed, and a dark patch formed at the crotch of her pants. She shuffled her feet a little, separating them, as the dark wetness spread down the legs of her jeans, and I stepped to the side, exposing her to the road. She released a groan of relief as a stream of her piss passed through the crotch of her pants, splashing wetly between her feet, even as her legs were soaked in her hot urine. Halfway through she inhaled deeply, and raised her head, staring out at the world as she released her bladder, then turned to me, piss continuing to spill out of her. "Thank you, Sir," she blurted, the words spilling from her as rapidly as her fluids, "thank you, thank you for letting me piss myself, for letting me release my piss in my clothes." There was genuine gratitude in her voice. "Thank you for stopping and letting me relieve the pressure, oh, it feels so good to piss, finally, to let it spill out and soak my clothes in my urine." Her words trailed off as her stream subsided, but she stood there, piss running into her sneakers, as she completed her emptying, standing proudly as her bladder drained for all the world to see. I saw her then as if with new eyes; even after all I had learned about her, and about myself, I saw her standing with pride, soaked in her own urine, pleased at her obedience and public humiliation, satisfied that she had done what she was told, without reservation. It was remarkable, and while not arousing, it was wildly erotic for the complete devotion she had committed to her submission. "I am done now, Sir," she stated. I walked to the trunk and took out her suitcase, and opened the back seat, and told her to find something to change into. She leaned over, selecting pants and underwear, then spread some laundry on the seat to sit on while she changed. When she slipped her panties off I took them from her as she sat with her legs out of the car. I rubbed the soaked garment on her face, then rolled it into a ball and pushed it into her mouth. "Get used to that taste," I told her, holding her mouth closed, and she looked up at me with dismay and elation. "It won't be the last time." She nodded, and I took the panties from her mouth, and she swallowed visibly, and made a face. I helped her up. "Feel better?" I asked. "Much," she replied. And I kissed her again, tasting the bitter remnants of her pee on her lips and face, and our arms wrapped around each other, holding each other closely, kissing slowly and lovingly, like we did when we were first married and so deeply, deeply in new love. This, I guess, was that same feeling, that new love feeling, for the second time for us. We were beginning our new relationship, discovering each other for the second time, and I felt a moment of pity for all the couples that would never experience the love and respect and devotion we held for each other. I would live for her, for her needs, committing myself fully to her degradation and humiliation, even as I submitted to Our Mistress Desiree, and enjoyed my role as Monica's Sir and Desiree's Mr. Pet. She would do anything I told her to the best of her ability, and delight in her actions, taking pleasure where I told her, and loving me for the opportunity I gave her. We were a couple again, complete and one.