It was the strangest request anyone had ever asked of me. And definitely the most dangerous.



“What?” I asked again, slightly slurring my speech in my drunken condition.



He wasn’t as drunk and mostly played with his beer bottle. He showed very little emotion. “She’s all yours for one day.”



I stared at him, trying to comprehend. “You want me to use your wife? One day? However I want?” It was taking time for it all to sink in. I ordered another beer. “Why?”



“I’m punishing her,” he said with a shrug. “And I’m giving you a chance.”



I felt sick when he said that. I tried not to openly express how much I’m in love with Naomi. She was my best friend, my soul mate, my life. But she was also married when I met her. I fell in love with her carefree attitude, her optimism, her kind words, and of course, her beauty. We became friends quickly. We talked every day, told each other our secrets, and confided in each other about everything. Her husband knew about our friendship, but instead of being jealous, he befriended me, and we became a trio.



At first, she gave no indication that she was attracted to me at all. But over the past three years, we’ve had a few kisses after a few drinks. Minor slips. But we never did it. I respected her too much, and she was too in love with her husband. So, I watched, painfully, on the side.



Girlfriends came and went. She would always be there for me, especially after a bad breakup. Naomi never knew the truth about why I couldn’t keep a girlfriend. I couldn’t tell her that the reason was her.



I tried to put her out of my mind, but she was everywhere: in my dreams, when I was with another woman, jerking off. All I could do was be her friend and glare at her husband when he made her mad.



“What did she do?”



“I don’t think she appreciates me anymore. She’s been moody and snapping at me even with her collar on. You really don’t know how many times she’s been over my knee this month.”



But I did. She called me each time crying and seeking sympathy. It didn’t bother me. I knew the type of lifestyle they had. I actually spanked most of my girlfriends and have witnessed her husband spanking her many times. They started taking it further, with collars, bondage, and toys. She had to make sure she told me every detail. I hated that. It just made me want her more. “But why do you need me?”



“I’m letting you have this chance. Take it or leave it.” It wasn’t about punishment at all. His jealousy finally got to him. I could see the sorrow in his eyes.



“I can’t do that to you.”



“You will if you ever want to stay friends with her.”



We left the conversation at that. I went back to my apartment and threw a tantrum until I passed out. My ringing cell phone woke me the next morning. It was him.



“What, Adam?”



“Have you thought about what I said?”



“Yeah, and I think you’re fucking insane.”



“She’ll be ready for you here at eleven AM tomorrow. Do it if you ever want to see her again.” He hung up.



“Fuck you,” I said into the dead phone. I spent the rest of the day pacing and trying to accept what I had to do. I wanted her, but I also wanted harmony amongst the three of us. I wanted her happy, and that was with Adam, not me. I wondered if she knew yet. I wondered if she would even agree to it.



By 10:40 the next day, I was looking my best with several condoms in my pocket, sweating during the six mile drive to their house.



I pulled up to the curb and ended up at the front door. I didn’t knock and entered as usual. I went around the corner into the living room. Adam was standing in the middle of the room. She was kneeling, blindfolded, at this side. He gave me the “sh” sign with his finger.



My heart jumped when I looked at her. She was collared with a chained leash falling to the floor. Her crimson lips were parted and quivering. Her very blonde hair was in waves. She was wearing a black corset and tight black shorts. I saw her shaking. She knew someone else was in the room. No one knew about her kinky relationship except me.



“There’s a reason I had you dress up today, Naomi. I’m letting someone else play with you today.”She gulped and shrunk back. I was surprised she wasn’t protesting. “He will be your Master for the day. Do exactly what he says. He has full rights over your body. Don’t disappoint me.”



I could see the struggle within her. She was trying everything she had not to speak.



He walked away from her and said, “One day exactly,” to me as he hurried out the door. I stayed paralyzed for a full minute. I think she was trying not to cry. I had a job to do, as much as I would hate it and love it.



I knelt in front of her. She froze when she recognized my scent.



“You know who I am?” She nodded. I could sense the terror she was feeling, especially when she knew who would be using her. I felt that same fear. “For the next twenty-four hours, don’t look me in the eyes, no matter what.”



“Yes, Master,” she said. I didn’t want her to see that it was me fucking her. It was awkward, and it was only going to be worse afterward.



I had a rough plan on what I was going to do to her. I knew what toys she had and where she kept them. I knew about the equipment they used for play. I felt disgusted knowing so much. But I couldn’t move from where I was kneeling. I was paralyzed. So was she. Minutes were slipping away. I had to take advantage of the moment. She was my plaything. I could do whatever I wanted without her objecting or Adam slaughtering me.



Would she ever talk to me again? That thought made me stall.



Even starting off with a simple kiss was too much for me. If I couldn’t kiss her, how could I use her?



She gulped every few seconds. Her lips trembled. I stroked her face, petted her hair, touched her lips.



She never had a problem with me touching her before, but she stayed rigid. I thought talking would help. But I had to accept that she wasn’t my friend; she was my slave.



I had to get into character fast. I unclipped the leash and set it off to the side.



“My little slut, are you ready for me today?” I asked with as much authority as I could muster.



“Yes, Master,” she whispered.



“Good.” And again, I froze. I thought about what I wanted from her. I smiled wickedly. “Your husband often tells me how his little whore gives awesome blowjobs. And if I remember right, you’ve bragged to me, but never offered to give me one. That pisses me off a lot.” She bit her lips. “Prove to me how good you are.” I stood and dropped my pants. I positioned my semi-hard dick close to her face. “Start sucking.”



She held out her hand to find me. As she ran her hand up my leg, I shuddered, and my cock stiffened. Her hand gripped him tightly; she felt my length. I was serious when I said I was bigger than her husband. She stroked him a few times and started pumping. I closed my eyes and concentrated as her warm hand firmly gripped my member. My dick was soon coated in spit. Her tongue ran over the shaft leaving not one spot dry. She covered the tip and sucked gently. She took in more and kept a vacuum like hold on me, and with a pop, released me.



I couldn’t take the teasing. She licked me base to tip, all around, then took several inches in between her jaws. Her head rocked back and forth. Her hand found my balls and cupped them, tugging lightly. My senses dulled as I spaced out with my whole packaged being serviced. When her mouth left my rod, I came back to reality. Though only briefly.



Her hand pumped my cock as she took one ball at a time in her mouth.



Her tongue found my cock again. She lubed it up well with spit and pumped me through her lips, faster each time. My end was near, but she slowed the pace and took me all in until my tip touched her throat. The vibrations of her moaning were pushing me to the edge. She went back to jerking me with her lips around me tight. It was a hell of a release. She gulped down my cum and sucked me raw.



She sunk back down to her knees, wiping away the mess around her lips with the tip of her finger. I couldn’t think of how wrong that all was. I was relaxed, at peace. I was going to have to wait for the next opportunity to cum in her again. I wanted to focus on her needs. But my stomach was growling. I didn’t eat much because of the nausea. I pulled my pants up and crouched down.



“I’m gonna take off your blindfold. Don’t you dare look at me.” I removed the blindfold from her blue eyes done in heavy eyeliner and gold, glittery shadow. Her eyelids lifted, but her gaze was on the floor. “Make us lunch.” I moved to the couch and plopped down like I owned the place. I heard her leave and rummage through the fridge. I grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels, settling on a music video channel. The crappy pop song made me frown and reach for the remote again, but I waited it out for hopes of something better next.



A band we were both into came on next with their new song. I studied the guitar, making notes. I knew I was just as good as a guitar player as any professional. Who knew why our band wasn’t successful. We had me, the best guitar player in the city, an awesome drummer, and Naomi’s sweet voice.



She set two plates on the coffee table and folded her hands in front of her. “You may sit next to me.” With the plate in her lap, she ate quietly and only kept her eyes on the tv. I cut into the leftover lasagna, her grandmother’s famous recipe. Coming over to Naomi’s house always meant good food. Adam was lucky to have a talented chef for a wife.



I waited for the food on her plate to be cleared and handed her mine. “Put these away. Then come join me.”



“Yes, Master,” she whispered. By the time the next video was over, she came back to the living room.



I stalled again. Time was ticking away.



I had to see the beautiful body under those tight clothes. I had to test her pussy for moisture. I had to know she wanted me before I went any further.



I stood in front of her and hooked my thumbs in her leather shorts. I slid them past her thighs and down her ankles. Her black, lace panties came down the same way, exposing her bare cunt.



“Step out of them.” She complied. I ran my fingers over her smooth mound. With one, I stroked her clit. It sent chills down her spine. “You want it?” She nodded. “You want me to play with you?” A small, unintentional whimper escaped her lips. “Beg for it.”



“Please, Master…play with me.” She wasn’t acting. She gave herself up. She was craving my touch. I granted her wish and felt the slipperiness of her lips. I was barely touching her, but she shuddered over and over. It was time to prove to her my skills. I was going to make her come harder than any fingering she had received.



I slipped a finger in there, unmoving. Her eyes were shut tight. She wasn’t taking the teasing well. Her body sunk down to capture my other fingers. I slowly took advantage of her. I saw her lips quiver and her teeth biting them to keep from speaking. Two fingers entered her. I increased my speed. I got her clit sopping and swollen. The intensity was triggering her instincts to run. I put my arm around her back. I wasn’t going to let go until she came. She writhed violently under my grip. Her moans turned into animal like grunts. She clawed me, punched me, and screamed because I wouldn’t let her go. Her legs clamped together, but I kept my hand in her pussy.



We crashed into the wall. I still held onto her tightly, fingering the hell out of her. With nowhere to run, she struggled harder. Her breath came out in heavy gulps. Her hands gripped my shirt as she shook and screamed. Her body fell limp against mine. My hand was drenched. I kept pressing her clit until she had nothing left. Her head lay on my chest as she tried to capture her breath.



I set up the trap to punish her. I loved how it worked out.



“Did you enjoy that?” She nodded and moaned, her way of thanking me. “Did you ask me if you could come?” Her breathing stopped suddenly. I felt the tension in her build up. “Answer me!”



“No, Master,” she said, sulking.



“Hm.” I dropped my arm and held my two cum soaked fingers in front of her. Being careful not to look at me, she lapped up the mess and sucked it up. I dried the rest on my jeans. My mind sped with all kinds of ideas for punishments. The one that stood out the most was her bound, gagged, and whipped. And maybe with a few toys used on her. And my dick punishing her ass.



“Stay there.” I retrieved the blindfold and leash and applied both to her. “We’re going upstairs. You’re being punished for your selfishness. Does you Master just let you come whenever you want?”



As I dragged her up the stairs, I passed by pictures on the wall. Pictures of the band we’re so proud of. Pictures of the three of us on our adventures. Pictures of Naomi in a white gown next to her new husband, smiling on the best day of their lives. It made me nauseated looking at them. I ignored them the best I could.



We passed by “my room,” the guest room that I sometimes used when I was too drunk to drive home. It was then I realized how much I was a part of their lives.



We entered the master bedroom. I left her kneeling at the bed while I ransacked their closet. I pushed the clothes aside and found the equipment and toys that they carefully hid. Rope, chains, ties, and tape filled one box. Another had assorted handcuffs, bars, bed restraints, everything anyone could want for bondage play. I lifted the lid of another, the punishment box. I sorted through the paddles and floggers and chose a whip. The fourth box was all anal. Knowing where those toys had been, I didn’t dig into that one. The last one had everything else, her toys, clamps, etcetera. I went back to the bondage boxes.



I wished I had planned it out. I wasted time deciding on how I wanted her positioned. She waited patiently in her corset and bare abdomen. Then, I saw it in the back of the closet. It was the leather bench thing she told me about. I didn’t know how to use it, but I knew I could bend her over and secure her to it while I took her ass. I studied how it was rigged up, which clasps to use, and which restraints. I placed all of it in the middle of the bedroom.



“Come here, slut.” I grabbed her arm roughly and pushed her down into kneeling position. I didn’t know where the aggressiveness came from.



I undid the leash and cursed working my fingers around the tied corset, trying to get the damn thing off. The pale yet damn near perfect tits greeted me as I pulled it off of her. My hands were immediately upon them. I lost myself and my dominance. I was entranced by those huge knockers. I was becoming a slave to those things. I decided against the clamps. I couldn’t hurt those beauties.



Somehow, I got her naked body bent over with her arms and legs secured. I was too scared to use the gag. I needed her to tell me if I was hurting her. I stepped back to admire my work. I twirled the flogger around and gave the air a few good lashes. The only practice I had was with my kinkiest ex-girlfriend. That relationship ended when she wanted to switch roles. I wasn’t for exploring my masochistic side, if I had one. I would know, because the feel of the whip in my hand felt right.



Her little ass and pretty legs were begging for stripes. I promised to deliver.



I trailed the tails up her legs, across her pussy, over her ass. She shivered in response. I said nothing as I started in on her. She gasped at the first lash. I worked my way up and down her legs. She tensed as the flogger marked her pretty, unflawed skin. I watched the changing colors of the angry stripes covering her. I gave a full powered, back handed strike to her ass that made her jolt and cry out.



She moaned as if she were turned on. But I wasn’t ready yet. I needed more time.



“You’re going to stay there and think about what you’ve done.”



I left her in that position, whipped with a moist pussy. I sat in a chair behind her. Her holes were on display for me. I watched and thought of all the nights I couldn’t have that. Every incident of jealousy and flirtation came to mind.



She bounced a bit to loosen her muscles. I kept staring. Sometime later I realized I was stroking my dick, lost in my fantasies. The bulge got harder with each thought. I released the beast from my jeans and grabbed it. The image in front of me was helping me focus.



I stood, shed my clothes, and pulled out condom number one. I took lube from Naomi’s nightstand. I put the shield on with a good glob of lube on it. I caressed her hips. She started breathing a little heavier. I could see the juices dampening her pussy. I knew she wasn’t expecting me to take her ass instead. By the way she moaned, I could tell she wanted me to fuck her.



My tip entered the crevasse, centered in her hole. Her breathing stopped, and she cocked her head to the side. I could imagine the confusion on her face.



My dick slid in a little at a time with no complaint from her. The only thing coming from her was stifled moans. I was fully in and savoring every bit of my cock being constricted in her hole. I held on to her hips, closed my eyes, pulled out, and pushed in. Slowly, I took her. Each pump was too much for her to handle. She was enjoying it way too much.



“You like that, don’t you…you dirty, filthy whore,” I growled.



Her shaking stopped. I heard a small gasp, not a good one. I stopped too. I heard sniffling. I thought she was about cry. I had to think of a way to resurrect the good moment we had. “Stop crying!” I yelled. “You know you like it. Sorry, that makes you a whore. But you know what? I like you being my slut.” I went faster and reached for her clit. It was completely saturated. “You’re in so much trouble,” I said with a laugh.



She changed completely at my threat. She gasped and moaned as I rode her. I looked down at my dick sliding in and out of her. I came quickly. I sighed, moaned, and then went to the bathroom to clean up.



In my head, I heard myself say those words again. “You’re in so much trouble.” I said that every time she did something to piss me off. I would cross my arms and raise my eyebrows. She would giggle, practically daring me to do something about it. Every time, I backed off. Every little scolding I gave her turned us both on. It was the little sexual tease that we did to each other. I hoped it wasn’t obvious enough for Adam to see.



I went back to the room. She was still quiet. My abusive words haunted me. I had to make things better. My sadistic side went into hibernation for a while. I craved her as a companion, not as much as a slave at that moment.



I released her from the bench and helped her up. I took the blindfold off. She remembered my warning and kept her eyes down. My hand went to the back of her neck. I kissed her forehead. I felt her melt into my arms. I wanted to kiss her. But she wasn’t mine.



She stayed in my arms. I took in her scent, her favorite, vanilla. I rested my forehead on hers and tried to breathe. It was like the first time I met her, like I was falling in love with her again.



“Come with me.” I wanted to mean, ‘come with me forever.’ Instead, I led her to the shower. I turned it on and waited for the water to warm up. I took her arm and closed the door behind us. I put her in front of the spray. Her body relaxed under the warm water. After a couple of minutes, I took the showerhead down and rinsed her all over. With only a hint of a smile, she stood still. I put it back and took my time washing her. I took care with soaping her up, washing her hair, rinsing her off. I pulled her to the back of the shower and washed myself using Adam’s soap. I felt like I was becoming him.



When the water lost its heat, I turned it off. An instant chill fell on both of us. I grabbed a towel for her first and wrapped it around her shivering body. She obediently waited for me to finish drying myself. I helped her out of the shower and dried every part of her. I rubbed the towel lightly around her collar and used a washcloth to wipe off the raccoon eyes made from her smudged makeup. She looked even more beautiful than I had ever seen her before.

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