Hunger

A story of a woman who thought she had it all. Fame, fortune and an open minded husband. Yet something was missing. And once she found it, the hunger began.

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Image by Photographer Stephan @SWLphotographic

*** The image is not to be reproduced or redistributed without the photographer’s permission***

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Her hands were tied to the bedpost. Just high enough for her to stand on her toes.

“What is the punishment for being late?” he asked.

“Five strokes for each minute, sir,” she replied promptly, as hesitation would increase her debt.

Thwack!

The sound of a cane making contact with her bare behind reverberated around the room. It stung, but it was a sweet pleasure to a woman like her. She knew there would be a mark… marks from the subsequent strikes.

“One, Sir!” she counted as was expected of her.

Thwack!

“Two, Sir!” she gasped this time.

***

Her fingers tapped on the steering wheel of the Lamborghini Huracán Evo. Debussy’s Claire-de-Lune steamed through the speakers as she drove dangerously fast between traffic. It was a sad attempt to calm her aroused body in the early stages of her craving. And it rarely worked.

‘It has been too long,’ she thought as she exited the motorway at her destination — his exit.

The orange color of the Lambo Evo’s hood insulted her sense of style and deportment. Of all the colors, her husband had to pick that to buy. ‘Orange! How monstrous,’ she thought, trying to settle herself, focusing on something other than Him.

Not her husband, who was busy making them richer by the minute in the government lobby firm or wherever he was at the moment. But Him, was the man she was on the way to meet. The man who had unsettled her when they first met. The one who still did each time he summoned her as if she were his Pet. That’s what he called her, wasn’t it?

“Come here, Pet. Stand straight, Pet. On your knees, Pet.”

And maybe she was. All it took was one call. A call Carol Smith-Van Bartell, wife of ex-Senator Randal Van Bartell, was not allowed to answer. But woe-be-to-her if she did not drop what she was doing and go to him each time she received his summons. The thought of losing him terrified her.

And here our heroine was, driving her husband’s monstrosity weekend car instead of her indiscreet gray S.U.V. ‘It would need to be serviced today,’ she thought in frustration. ‘Of all days.’

As fun as it was to drive, this rocket on wheels was conspicuously noticeable. Getting caught meant jeopardizing the life she had worked hard to build for herself. Yet something about the possibility of being discovered enticed her.

She had been shopping with friends. Then at a social lunch with women of her social status when the call had come. No time to race home and fetch her maid’s sedan. Why did Washington DC have to be so provincial? Everyone knew everyone of note and stuck their nose into their business. Carol knew the score and rules of the game, yet she could not resist him. He had become an unshakeable addiction.

She had to park on the street, as no other spot was available. Carol knew she would be noticed. Not just the gaudy orange-colored super-car, but her outfit also stuck out. Her yellow dress, ruffled top and bottom, contrasted with the earth tone colors of the neighborhood. And those toned, long legs and bleached blond hair… everyone in D.C. knew who she was. Ex-model, lawyer, occasional actress, a celebrity in her own right, not just Senator Van Bartell’s arm candy.

Carol was done for — she knew it. The story would be online before she was done and on her way home. Paparazzi careers could be made from pictures of the former Senator’s wife on the way to a tryst. Or would it? The street in Georgetown seemed empty save for a young woman pushing a pram as she stared at her phone absentmindedly. Would the millennial mom spot her? All Carol had to do was make it to his door unnoticed. Just a few more feet.

“You were three minutes late,” he said when he opened the door after making her wait.

Carol knew better than to make excuses. Instead, she nodded and went inside. His eyes burned for her.

“Were you seen?”

“I’m not sure,” she replied anxiously. “But I had to drive that damned orange car.”

“I like it,” he said as he leaned on the end of the parlor couch.

He was not G.Q. cover attractive, but his ruggedly handsome looks were the type women found intriguingly mysterious. Not the bad boy, but the dangerous man.

“You do?” she replied in surprise.

He pointed to the floor inches in front of him, beckoning her. Carol walked to the spot as directed. There was never an option of disobeying. Her need to do as he asked, outweighed his need to control her. Or so she thought.

“I like that you have to drive such a conspicuous vehicle that announces your presence. Only your husband owns one in town. And there is no one else matching your stunning unique description that could be driving it.”

Once more, the notion of being discovered excited her… aroused her.

“Disrobe,’ he commanded, gazing into her eyes. “Slowly.”

His eyes burned into her fair flesh as the yellow flowing dress was discarded and fell to the floor. She was left in a matching lace nude set of sexy and almost non-existent undergarments — matching nude holdups and five-inch white pumps. Carol knew he could see her nipples and shaved mons beneath the sheer material. She wanted him to. Wanted him to unwrap her and take what she had to offer.

Everything she had.

***

Only that was never in the cards. Other men undressed their lovers. He wanted her to do it instead. She knew him by now. He had set the rules for them on their second time. The first had been a blur of exerting his will on her, not giving her the chance to resist — as if she would have. She had become his playtoy before her evening gown from the presidential ball had been removed at his brownstone.

Carol was a stunning woman of presence. The kind men gravitate to and fawn over. Yet she could not remember the last time a man had captivated her as he did from across the room. He was not overly handsome, but he held his own. He seemed fit, in a way men over thirty did, by making a habit of exercise. His hair was cropped short, reminding her of her father in his military days. But this man was in a civilian tux, unlike the formally dressed sprinkling of officers around the room. A small scar on his lip gave him a flair of the dramatic as Carol felt herself gravitating to him.

She had done the unexpected by asking him to dance. And he had surprised her with his ability to waltz as he held her close, light as a feather. Subtle, polite chit-chat led to searing eye stares and closer dancing. Carol’s ego was fed by his bulge brushing against her thigh and belly twice. By this point, she was putty in his hands.

“Come with me,” he had asked… no… it had been more than a request.

Carol had arrived with her husband, but he had long left her to her own devices in the crowd as he “networked” for an upcoming election or whatever always took precedence in these affairs.

I’m leaving early Randy. Carol texted her husband.

Take care, had been the Senator’s only reply.

***

Their first coupling had been hurried, frantic as they undressed each other. Kissing led to groping, fondling, and probing. Carol had gasped in surprise as he lifted her off her feet. Moving quickly, he placed her naked behind on a credenza and moved between her willingly parting legs. Always on the pill, she had not even thought about protection. All she knew was that she wanted him… needed him.

Carol gasped as his thick manhood parted her wetness to find her depths. He was already pounding her insides before she got her bearings and held on to him for dear life. He was so big… wide… stretching her!

Instinctively, she found herself writhing to his rhythm, straining to match his thrusts. Her first orgasm surprised Carol as this new man’s thrusting prolonged her pleasure. And before long, another came right behind the first. Carol thought she had died and gone to heaven.

Then mystery-man had pulled away, leaving her wanting more.

“What about you?” she managed to ask as her white pumps touched the floor again. But he ignored her question, asking his own.

“Do you want more?”

Did she want… was he seriously asking that question? Of course, she wanted more. Carol had not cum from a man’s fucking in ages, and definitely not from her husband.

“Yes, I do.”

“Convince me.”

“What?” she had asked, confused until he pointed to the carpeted floor.

Carol complied, no stranger to giving oral to lovers, kneeling before him in the position of eternal supplication. His cock was not the longest she had seen, but it was massively thick. The head was smaller than his shaft, flaring to an obscene wideness the closer it reached the shaved base.

‘How did I take that inside me,’ she asked herself as she approached it with her dainty fingers. It mesmerized her, compelling her to look at it in all its glory. She then touched the source of the pleasure he had bestowed her just minutes before. And wanting to return the favor, she fell on it with mouth open, noisily repaying the debt.

Soon after, she felt his strong hands on the sides and back of her head. He held her in place as he began to take ownership of her. Carol had not let a man use her this way in ages. But something about this man, his disposition and comportment, made her want to. Not just to please him but to let him take what he wanted of her.

“I can tell by the way you let me take your mouth that you like it. Look up at me and blink twice if it is true.

She did so, not even contemplating denying it. Or him.

He had taken more of her that way, eventually invading past her tonsils to her throat. Never hurting or choking her, he seemed to know the exact moment she needed to breathe or take him back in.

They had moved to his bedroom sometime later. Carol was impressed by his stamina. As she followed him down the hallway, she noticed his left leg and right shoulder scars. Carol thought of asking their origin but felt stupid doing so. Her father had once admonished her when she queried him about his missing two fingers. ‘A man will tell you if he wants you to know,’ her dad had replied, never telling her until his end.

What followed in the next two hours was probably… no, definitely, the most overwhelming sexual experience of her life. He made her cum repeatedly, taking her in multiple positions. Always in charge and always giving her what she needed. When he finally came, the mystery man was between her legs, riding her as she had never been fucked before. Hard and deep, over and over like a machine. Carol had lost track of the number of orgasms she had and any sense of time.

Then he pushed her away and stood.

“Is something wrong?” she had asked.

“Did you enjoy what I did to you? Taking from you what I wished?”

“Yes,” she whispered, knowing she was feeding his ego. Something she had never done or felt the need to do for any man. Until today.

“You need more, don’t you?” he said, standing with arms crossed, his obscene erection menacing her, enticing her.

“Yes,” she said again, knowing he was correct about her. “I do.”

“Then prove it. Turn around on your knees.”

Thinking he would take her from behind as he had earlier, Carol had assumed the position waiting for more pleasure. Only when it came, it was in a different form, shocking her to the core — both in manner and intensity.

SMACK!

Searing and stinging pain flared on her upturned behind. She almost collapsed from the shock, but he steadied her with his hands, keeping her in place.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you, Carol?”

“I…” she tried to speak and breathe simultaneously. Breathing won.

“You are a married woman, with a man you hardly know, giving yourself to him without a care. You must like being a bad girl.”

“I do,” Carol replied, surprised at her confession. Yet the sting of his hand started a fire in her she was trying to cope with. Almost as much as her willingness to confess her transgressions to this man. “I like being bad.”

“I know,” he had replied. “And the spanking? How did that feel?”

Carol bit her lip, but she could not deny it or bring herself to lie or withhold the answer from him.

“I liked it,” she said, knowing she had crossed an unexpected pivotal line.

“Enough to want more?”

“Oh God yes!”

Shmack!

Another stinging blow fell — this time on her other butt cheek. Only this time, Carol enjoyed it willingly. When the next, and the one after, landed on her enflamed behind, she arched to meet the blows voluntarily. She could not believe the sensation of this spanking, both physically and mentally. It was overwhelming and… arousing!

“Yes!” she gasped. “More… more.”

But after ten slaps that could have been harder, her new lover stopped her “punishment.” Carol was surprised by her disappointment.

“Please…” was all she managed to say as she turned to look at him.

Grasping her slender waist, the mystery man moved behind her. She knew what was to come as she felt his thick manhood tease and probe her exposed entrance. How she wanted him just then! To be taken and possessed by this forceful and dangerous man.

She felt his cock head rub up and down her wet slit, just a mere second before he plunged inside her. Even after all the fucking before, Carol never felt so alive and aroused as she did feeling him penetrate to her depths.

“Hurt me… please hurt me… I want it,” Carol uttered in between thrusts.

And he did just as she asked. Fucking Carol deep and hard, slamming all the way inside. His hands pulling her to him, jamming himself in her frantically. She closed her eyes and reveled in his use of her, his raw manliness. When he grasped her long hair and pulled, Carol felt her body spasm and pulse around him, cumming once more.

Then in an instant of selfish gratification, he grunted loudly, jammed inside her, and held her in place. Once more, he grunted, letting go of her hair and pulling her to him possessively with both hands. Carol could feel his shaft pulsing on her most sensitive spot, the ring of her entrance — spread wide as he shot his load. She could just imagine his warm thick cum coating her insides, claiming her, marking her.

“Yes! Cum in me… cum!”

He grunted once more and reached around to cup her succulent breasts and aroused nipples. His rough hands mauled her flesh as he shoved in her one last time. As other men did, Carol had expected him to move away from her and recover. But he did nothing of the sort, instead staying in her.

“I want more of you,” he murmured in her ear. “I want you to give me all I ask.”

All Carol could say was yes. Certain that she would return for more, having had a taste of what he could offer.

“What is your name?” she asked curiously.

“Sir,” he replied. “To you, I am Sir. And you are Pet.”

“Pet?”

“In here and when we are alone. But if you see me outside, I am Mr. Gordon. Elis Gordon.”

“I am…”

“I know who you are, Carol Smith-Van Bartell. Wife of former Senator Randal Van Bartell of the state of New York. Scion of the Van Bartell family, original Dutch high society before the British and the United States. You are a full partner at Gunderson, Ruiz, and Van Bartell Legal, specializing in lobbying. A model during your college years at Columbia. And a three-time actress in the… Disney, Legends of Thunder franchise? Nice outfit they had you in, I might say.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “You know a lot about me.”

“It’s my job. But most is public.”

“And what do you do, Elis…” she said, then corrected herself when she saw his stern expression, “I mean Sir.”

“Terrible things.”

***

She would have never done this for any other man, but for Elis Gordon, it seemed… right. The name was familiar. Where had she heard it before? Oh yes, a confirmation hearing three years prior. A name the Senator told her not to repeat as the hearing was classified. She had known better by then and put his name out of her mind.

Yet after their first “encounter,” Carol found herself driven home in a dark limo by a burly man Elis had summoned to take her home. The driver knew where to take her and to wait until she was safely inside her home before he drove off.

The events of the evening on her mind were more unsettling than her body. The Senator was not home, and she did not expect him to be. Where her husband spent evenings like this, Carol had stopped contemplating long ago. The upper classes had their privileges, and having secret dalliances and lovers was common in his circles. A benefit Carol had learned the value of in recent years. All she had to do was be discreet.

***

The second time she and Elis met, she had been at her law office. But it did not take place there.

She knew that partnership had come soon after her marriage to the Senator, but she didn’t care. The morning meetings had been focused on new cases and law office finances, but her mind was on that night a week before. It was all she could think of these days, even when the Senator had given her their obligatory Sunday morning romp.

She had to admit, the guy tried, but Carol knew he would never give her what she craved. Still, a cum is a cum, and her husband did manage to fuck her long enough to get her there… just barely. Surprisingly, she did not fault him for that. Her husband was still fit and virile for his forty-three years. But his technique repertoire was rather vanilla and a tad too hurried. And after Elis, the Senator could sadly not compete.

Still, marriage to him had opened doors for Carol. Doors with opportunities to meet interesting people and further her career interests. Randal. Randy had three children from his previous marriage and did not want more. Being vain and not the motherly type, Carol had agreed to a childless, yet socially and professionally promising union.

The driver had been just outside her office, standing by the same black S.U.V. she had been driven home in. Oh yes, an Escalade. How posh, but she preferred her Rover any day. The man in the dark suit and sunglasses was burly, with a dark skin tone. He looked Hispanic and ex-military from his mannerisms. Carol was familiar with them in D.C. Whether in the secret services, private guards, or active military, they all carried themselves the same way.

“He wants to see you again,” was all the man said.

Carol thought about her evening plans but decided they were no longer vital. When the man opened the rear door for her, Carol entered, wondering if he scoped out her magnificent legs when she sat. She could not see his eyes, but his expression confirmed her suspicions. ‘Not gay. But a subordinate. Decent looking, but for some other woman.’

“What is your name,” she asked as the man drove off.

“Rick,” the man replied.

“Rick?”

“Short for Ricardo Ruiz, ma’am.”

“You work for Mr. Gordon?” she asked, fishing for any bit of information about his employer.

“Ma’am, I am the person assigned to pick you up and drive you back. All you need to know. And the less you ask about Mr. Gordon, the better.”

After that, the man had gone silent, and so had Carol as they drove to Georgetown. She sent another text to her husband about being busy, and he acknowledged by wishing her well.

Fifteen minutes later, she was naked under Elis… correction, under Sir, while he brought her to orgasm before pulling away, not having cum.

“Your training begins tonight, Pet,” he had informed her. “And you need to accept the rules of our relationship.”

“Relationship?”

“Oh, not the kind other people have in their affairs.”

‘No?”

“No indeed. Other people have a mistaken notion of equality between the participants. We will not entertain such an illusion.”

“Illusion?”

“In every relationship, there is always a top and a bottom. It may be too slight for some to see, but that is how it is. In our case, there will be no question about who is the top and who the bottom. If these roles are not to your liking, let me know, and I can have you driven back to your car. But if that is your decision, you will never see me again in private. What will it be?”

Carol could tell from how he spoke to her that he was serious. And she also knew that she could not close this door to a world he had opened for her. A universe she wanted to explore.

“I will stay… Sir.”

“Do you know what that means?”

“That I do as you say, Sir.”

He produced a leather collar, securing it around her neck.

“You will not wear this outside or take it with you. It is for you to wear when we are together alone… here.”

Carol had accepted it as she had submitted to his other wishes, content in the security of her new place with this new lover.

And her training had begun as Elis had tied her to the bedpost — her behind and back facing him as he reached for a bamboo cane. The cloth-covered leather binding secured her in place but was not overly painful. Carol was excited to be exposed naked for him and also vulnerable. Every nerve ending on her skin seemed on edge in anticipation.

“I will do things to you that will hurt you. Pain will be integral to what we do. It will often leave marks visible when you are naked. While I will ensure not to mark your arms, legs, and face, your back and behind will usually be marked for anyone to see. That means the good Senator will see them. Do you agree to that?”

Carol should have been perturbed at what her lover was suggesting. If she agreed, she would return home with clear signs of what Elis had done to her, what she had agreed. Her husband would see and know.

“My husband is aware I have lovers. We don’t discuss it, but we both know. He does as well. This will be a confirmation for him to see. But I strangely don’t care. In fact, I want him to see your markings on me.”

“You are a nasty girl, Pet,” Elis had replied. “But there is one last thing before you give me the keys to your body.”

“What’s that?” she asked curiously.

“A safe word.”

“A what?”

“A word you say to me if or when you want me to stop what I am doing. When you say it, I will stop. It is part of this lifestyle. I’m not a monster, just a demented asshole.”

“I think I like you that way.”

‘Good, now pick your word.”

She gave it very little thought before blurting out, “Hunger.”

“That’s odd,” he replied. “Why that?”

“It is what I have been feeling since our first time — since you spanked me. A hunger for more. To let you go further.”

“Fair enough. Beware, Pet. I plan to push your limits.”

And he had, caning her back until it was covered with rosy-red stripes from shoulders to her waist. After ten swats, he spread her legs, reaching under to test her wetness. Carol was in a new universe of delicious pain and pleasure by then. And not once did she use her safe word. His fingers discovered her wetness, signifying her arousal — her consenting contentment.

For his part, Elis rewarded her by placing clamps on her nipples and fingering her pussy, leaving her clit unattended. Even though she arched her back to give him better access, he resisted the urge to get her off. Instead, he inserted his dick in her womanhood and held her in place.

“That is your reward for being a good Pet. Feel it inside you. Focus on the lack of movement as it teases you. Learn to embrace denial and pain.”

His hands had roughly handled her bruised and burning flesh where he had caned her. She gasped yet enjoyed it all and asked for more.

“Please, Sir, punish me as you see fit. Please…” she hissed as he removed himself from her wet insides. Her engorged labia tried to hold on to him as he exited, not wanting to let go but reveling in the denial.

When Elis resumed the caning on her upturned behind this time, Carol squealed. She jumped at the first strike, then danced on her toes from the shock of the second. But not once did she entertain saying her safeword. It was left up to him to stop at ten. By then, Carol was straining at her bindings and cherishing each blow like a newfound toy.

“That will be good for your first time,” he informed her as he entered her and began pumping his dick steadily. “You have been a good Pet. Now you need to learn the summons rule.”

“The what?’ she gasped. Her mind was barely reasoning from the overload of sensations and pleasure.

“If you want this to continue, you will follow my rules. I will summon you by calling you on your cell. When I do, you will not answer. But you will have to be here in sixty minutes. That will give you time to wrap up what you are doing and drive here. Sixty minutes. If you are late, you will be punished. If you do not show up, you will be forgotten and replaced. It is as simple as that.”

“What if I get stuck in traffic?”

“You will give me access to your location on your phone. I will be able to see the traffic if you are stuck in it.”

“That means my husband will know if he looks on my phone.”

He continued stroking inside her, not missing a beat.

“He will see the marks tonight, Pet. He will know.”

“You are right… Sir,” she added, thankful he had not swatted her for not using his title just earlier. “But I was bad, Sir. I didn’t call you Sir. You should punish me for that.”

“We are fucking, and I am feeling merciful at this moment. You’ve been punished enough for today.”

***

A month later, the day Carol drove to Elis in the Lambo.

Elis had been trying to screw Carol in the ass, but he was too big, and she had yelled ‘Hunger” her safeword each time he tried. But Carol’s resolve was weakening. Especially after her husband’s paramour, confided that her lover (Randy) had taken her anal virginity — not knowing that Carol knew. ‘Well, two can play that game,’ Carol thought. ‘How hard can it be.’

Carol had studied up on anal methods and finally thought she was ready. ‘Mind over matter, mind over matter,’ she repeated as a mantra. ‘Even if the matter is huge… yuge!’

All the jokes in the world could not calm her down. And she wondered if that oversized but-plug in her ass would do the job of getting her ready. She had to admit. Though, it felt kind of good… nasty, and exciting.

When she had first gotten involved with Sir Elis and his dominance of her, Carol had questioned a lot about who she was. How could a self-assured, professional woman let herself become the addicted sex toy of this man? All the literature on BDSM she had read for answers never explained her personality and attraction to what Elis had offered her.

And yet, he would call on her, and she would go. No man… father, boyfriend, nor husband had ever laid his hands on her the way she allowed him to. No one had ever tied her up, spanked, and caned her before or after using her body for his sexual pleasure. But it was not just his satisfaction, was it?

Eventually, Carol came to terms with who she was and stopped questioning the why. ‘Some things in life are meant to be as they are,’ like her deep-rooted need to be this man’s ‘Pet.” Or her husband’s silly proclivities. She still laughed at that. ‘Humans are so silly and strange,’ she thought.

‘Look at me. I can’t wait to be with this man I hardly have anything in common with but what he does to me behind closed doors. I let him debase and use me and look forward to it. Who am I to question Randy’s peculiarities? I’m just glad the big lug is open-minded enough to let me carry on with Elis. Something I need so much. Something that takes the edge off the pressures of life, doesn’t it? When I am with Sir, I give him the reins and feel… free.’

And so, here Carol was, in her white pumps and holdups accenting her sultriness on her knees in front of Sir Elis. The lacy bra and panties were long discarded between bouts of cock sucking, shaft stroking, ball fondling, licking, and swallowing. Carol had worshiped his manhood, the source of all her orgasms.

She had heard the term used to describe exceptional oral sex before. But not until after Sir Elis had been in her, filled her, and made her cum endlessly did she truly understand the meaning of the term. Cock worship was what a satisfied woman, a woman addicted to the pleasures from her lover’s manhood, did to it. It. The source of all the joy it gave her each time they coupled.

In some ways, Carol was addicted to Sir Elis’s manhood as much as his magnetic and forceful personality. She wondered if one aspect of him alone might not have been enough to captivate and ensnare her to Sir Elis. He was perceptive enough to wait until her body had healed from the last caning to have another, never torturing her.

He cared for her, never abusing the privilege of deciding when to and when not to use force. An honor his “pet” bestowed on him with her trust. It was a symbiotic ethos of a devoted sub and a decent, caring dome, responsible for his sub’s wellbeing and satisfaction. But that alone was not enough, she knew. His thick, strong dick was the clincher to their sexual dynamic. There was no denying that.

Their meetings had not been regular. Because of their travel schedules, the summons rule only applied when they were both in town. And even then, Elis had an uncanny ability to know when she was not engaged with a pressing engagement. Carol figured out that a man in the intelligence business would find ways to keep tabs on her. She wondered who he had bribed in her staff to give him updates. But the mystery of it made their association too exciting for her to put a stop to it.

“Sir,” she said, looking up at him in between licking his shaft, “do you think today is the day?”

Elis had told her some time ago that her final submission to him would be earned. He wanted the last part of her, but that she wanted it more gave him reason to use it in her domination and eventual total conquest.

“Do you think you are ready, Pet?”

“Yes, Sir. I have been practicing with my thick dildo and have a plug in me as we speak — the widest one.”

“Let me see,” he ordered, watching as she turned around, lowering her upper body to the carpet.

Her behind propped up, her cheeks parted to reveal the end of a gold buttplug embedded in her rectum.

“Have you had time to clean yourself?”

“I ran to the ladies as soon as you called. I always bring a kit with me, just in case.”

‘She is eager. I have to give her that,’ Elis thought. ‘Fuck it! I’ve waited long enough.’

“Let’s move this to the bedroom. And go use the kit in the bathroom. Time for your reward.”

Carol jumped around and hugged his legs in supplication and gratitude. Something she would have never done for any man before him. Something she had not done for Randy either until the day he told her she could keep her lover, not since that day.

The two men had different places in her life — one she loved and the other she craved. Carol had embraced that aspect of her personality after going back and forth with each man. Something she would have a hard time explaining to anyone. But as she hugged Elis’s legs and ran to the bathroom, Carol decided she had to explain nothing to anyone. This was her life, and no one could question it.

After spreading her legs wide, he had tied them to her arms, keeping her spread and immobile on her back. When he reached for the ballgag, Carol had willingly opened her mouth for him to insert and raised her neck for him to secure it.

“I have you on your back so we can have eye contact. If you start blinking rapidly, it’s the same as your safe word. I’ll be able to see.”

“No need Sir. The gag was my idea. I’ve already made up my mind — no going back. I want you to have all of me.”

“OK, Pet, but my offer stands,” he said, lowering the gag toward her.

“Thank you, Sir,” she said just before the ball was seated in her mouth over her tongue.

Elis thought Christmas came early that day as he spread lubricant on her anal gromet and some on the tip and shaft of his mighty dick.

“Remember what I taught you,” he reminded his previous instructions to her.

Carol nodded. She had already used the technique to take wider and wider dildoes in her rectum over the last few weeks. Staring with inch-wide ones, she had gotten her gromet used to intrusions and relaxing. And being able to master loosening her sphincter muscle was the key.

She had stared at Elis in disbelief when he had first explained it. But remembering the last time she had anal, two years before, Carol deduced the difference between that man’s thinner equipment and Elis’s heftier tool correctly. No way would she take his thickness in her rear without practice and an advantage. Simple lubrication and a couple of fingers in her would not be enough.

And as he approached her exposed back hole, Carol stared at his menacing erection, realizing that this was the moment of truth. Taking a deep breath when he rested his cock head at her anus, Carol strained as if, well, as if she was to evacuate. No other way to put it, but this was the trick. It loosened her to allow his tip to enter her with the light pressure he was exerting on it.

‘Can it be this simple?’ she had asked herself at home the first time she had used the technique. And sure enough, it had worked — with thinner dildoes, of course. But she had persevered with thicker and longer toys until she had managed to take one the size she surmised Elis to be. ‘It works!’ she thought when she felt his actual dick enter her. ‘He is in me. He is inside me!’

***

Weeks earlier. After Carol’s second time with Elis.

Driver Rick drove her to her car after showering and recovered. Sitting and leaning on the back seat hurt, but the pain was refreshing and brought memories of how she had come to be in this state. Carol reached under her skirt and began masturbating wildly, not caring if Rick noticed in the mirror. If the faithful driver did, he never showed a sign of it.

The earlier notion of her displaying her lover’s marks to her husband faded as she came home. In a moment of fear, if found out, she had turned the light off and assaulted her husband for sex in the dark. Carol sucked his cock and then rode the good Senator from New York until he popped his nut inside her. Randal was soon asleep, and Carol had donned a long sleeping gown to cover the incriminating marks.

By the morning, she was sleeping on her face, and the nightgown had risen high enough to expose the stripes Elis had inflicted on her to her husband’s eyes. The Senator had awakened his wife, who thought all was well.

“Carol, could you please take your gown off?” he had asked with the polite yet firm way he wielded power in his universe.

And strangely, Carol found herself wanting to comply. Curiously, Randal had gazed at her marks before speaking.

“Were those administered to you with your consent?”

Not an egotistical query about the other man’s identity — only interest in her safety. Carol found her husband’s concern more embarrassing than showing him the evidence on her body.

She nodded, not sure how to say it. But her husband gazed at her waiting for an explanation. Why was he doing that? Why couldn’t their unspoken agreement to have lovers suffice?

“It was consensual,” she finally blurted out.

“This is not my sort of thing,” he replied. “I’m no boy scout Carol, but inflicting pain on you has never crossed my mind.”

“I know, Randy,” she reassured him. “I didn’t even know I… that I liked this either. It was by chance.”

“A new lover, I presume?” he asked politely once more.

“Randy, are you upset?” she asked, realizing it was a stupid question.

Her husband took a deep breath as he sat back.

“I knew I was not giving you what you needed in the sack, Carol. You are a vibrant younger woman. But this… I can’t do this for you and have no inclination to either.”

“I’m sorry Randy. I’ll stop.”

Randy scoffed at that. They both knew she would not stop doing something she craved.

“Do you want me to stop?” she had almost said ‘stop seeing him,’ yet didn’t. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? I’m not the one hurt, Carol,” Randy said, pointing to her damaged flesh. “Are you sure you want this to continue?”

“Randy,” she replied after a few seconds of hesitation. “I don’t know where this need came from, but right now, I can’t wait for the next time.”

“Wow! I had heard about people being into this. Now I realize that I’m living with one. Just curious here. Are you in love with this man?”

“No Randy! Why would you say that?”

“I just… I would hate losing you, Carol.”

“No. I’m not in love with him, and I don’t want us to split up either.”

“So what?” Randal replied, relieved yet still confused — a bit hurt, he had to admit. “You just go see him and get your beatings? How does this work?”

Carol realized that this was a conversation long-coming between her and her husband.

“Randy, I know you have lovers. You must. Please don’t deny it.”

“I am doing nothing of the sort, Carol,” he replied in indignation. “No denial on my part. What are you getting at.”

“What do you do with your lovers that I can not give you?”

Randal snickered at her assertion. Then nodded knowingly.

“Touché, Carol. Are you sure you want to know?”

“I might as well since you know about my kinks,” she replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Fair enough,” Randal replied. “I like doing married women.”

Carol was a bit confused.

‘What do you mean? I’m a married woman.”

“Correction. You are my wife. I like to do other people’s wives. There is a difference.”

“Other men’s wives!”

“It’s a thing, and you did ask,” he replied with a challenging gaze.

“Aren’t you worried that these husbands will find out, Randy? Think of the scandal, you… I mean we…” she corrected herself, “we could be ruined.”

“I don’t worry about it,” Randal waved a dismissive hand, “because I have the husband’s written permission.”

“You WHAT!”

“Carol, please. We are attorneys. Do you think I would get myself into something like that without thinking ahead? I make the husbands give me a non-disclosure agreement.”

Carol stared back at her smirking husband.

“An N.D.A.? You get the husbands to sign one? How? Do you blackmail them?”

“No, silly goose, they agree to it so they can watch.”

The way he said it sounded so natural she almost laughed.

“They… watch! You mean they are in the room when you do that?”

“Look, it’s… have you ever heard of cuckolds and hotwives?”

“I know what a cuckold is. A guy whose wife gets knocked up by some other guy,” A look of horror came to her face. “Oh, Randy! Please tell me you are not leaving a trail of your offspring around for people to sue us over!”

“Relax, Carol. Not that kind of cuckold. Are you sure you never heard of what a hotwife is?”

“A good-looking wife?” she asked, knowing she had the wrong answer from his smirk.

“NO. Although some of these wives are quite pretty.”

“What then?”

“These women and their husbands both agree that she takes a lover… usually at his insistence.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup. And the husband is called a cuckold or willing cuckold. Anyway, guys like them are voyeurs on steroids. Only it is their wife they crave to see flagrante-delicto.”

“Latin for in the act?” she replied. Attorneys were fluent in Latin — or were supposed to be.

“Exactly. But it is not cheating as everyone is in agreement… legally. This is why I have them sign an N.D.A.”

Carol was impressed by her husband’s thoughtfulness and forward-thinking. An N.D.A.! But then he did plan steps ahead. All politicians had to if they were to be successful.

“And you like doing this?”

“Hey, you have your kink, and I have mine. I get off knowing I’m doing another guy’s wife with his permission.”

It was Carol’s turn to scoff.

“And I was worried you would find out about my predilection. But in a way, you made my point.”

“What point is that exactly?” her Senator husband asked. Ex-Senator who had plans he had said when he had chosen not to run again the year before.

“That we are both going elsewhere for our sexual kicks, Randy,” she said, smiling and nodding at him.

“Precisely,” her husband replied. “So back to my question, are you sure you’re not going to serve me papers and run off with whoever you are doing?”

“And where will I get a marriage deal as I have with you?” she smirked.

“On a serious note, Carol. I worry about this guy. What if he does something to hurt you.”

Carol turned her back to display her red marks, then craned her neck at him with a sarcastic smile. ‘You mean to hurt me like this? Uh, Mr. Wife Fucker?”

“Cute, but I’m talking about you disappearing with no trace. Stuff English murder television stories are made of.”

“And you don’t think the people you do what you do with are not a threat?”

“Possibly. This is why I think we should write on a piece of paper about who we are doing whatever with and share it.”

Carol stood, grabbing a notepad and a pen.

“I’ll go first,” she said, writing Elis’ name on the pad and tearing off the page. “You’re next.”

Randal thought if he should.

“For the record, I am retaining you as my legal counsel. As such, you can not disclose what you are about to learn.”

“The same goes for you, Mr. Van Bartell — esquire. OK, on three, we trade.”

Daring each other one last time, they exchanged notes and confessions. Randal’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw whose name his wife wrote.

“Elis Gordon! THE ASSISTANT DIRECTOR OF THE D.I.A.?” Randal exclaimed as he stared at her paper.

The D.I.A. was the defense intelligence agency. Military spooks. Ex-soldiers turned spies. Randy knew who Elis was and his background. In some ways, he was not surprised that his wife had found the man to her liking.

For her part, Carol stared at his paper, stunned at the revelation with eyes bulging and mouth agape. She looked up at her husband and then pointed at the writing.

“Are you… fuckin… INSANE!”

“You won’t think so when you are Mrs. Vice President or 2nd Lady next year,” he smirked.

“You are fucking HIS wife?” she raised her tone at his. “The guy running for President of the United States!”

Randal sat back and nodded with the smirk of all smirks.

“And he… he watches you do it?” Carol asked in disbelief.

“It’s a long story. I used to screw his girlfriends in college, and one thing led to another, and….”

“How long Randal?”

Her husband knew he was in deep shit when she used his full first name.

“Well, let me think… Since back in ‘10? Maybe 2009?”

The implications of what she had learned were too much for her.

“I need a drink,” Carol replied. “I play golf with the bitch you are fucking. The future first lady.”

“You need some ointment,” Randy said to his wife as she walked out of the bedroom.

“Elis fuckin Gordon,” he shook his head in disbelief. “I play racket ball with that cocksucker!”

Then thought smirking. ‘And fucking his ex-wife. Take that Elis.’

Hey, it is Washington DC, after all. Everyone knows everyone.

***