Secrets [Mf] [cheating] [D/s]

“Hey hon, there’s a package here,” Ron’s voice called up the stairs.

For a moment, Elle froze, every muscle fiber in her body locking in place as the panic set in. Then adrenaline overcame anxiety and she took flight, dashing down the stairs to the foyer, and snagging the box from His hands. He raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“What’s that all about?”

She smiled demurely, flicking the hem of her sundress in a twirl, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He chuckled, then gave Elle a quick kiss on the cheek before heading out the door to work. She looked down at the box in her hands, her name and address written in careful script, no return address to be found. Cradling the box as if it were something sacred, she slowly ascended the staircase, heading to the guest room at the far end of the hall. Peeking out the window to make sure Ron’s car was gone from the driveway, she sat on the bed, pulled out her phone, and sent a picture of it to a man she knew only as Sir.

The reply came swiftly, “Well, open it.”

Greedily she tore into the box, tossing aside bits of cardboard and tissue paper, exposing another box in the center. This one was heavy, a dark ebony wood with delicate gold filigree inlaid. It was breathtaking, her hands trembled slightly as she lifted it from the larger container and sat it on the bed next to her. She lifted the lid slowly, savoring the tightness in her chest, the quickened heartbeat that came with living this secret life, and gasped as she saw what was within.

Inside the box was lined with velvet, providing a resting place for a heavy leather collar, but one unlike anything Elle had ever seen. As she pulled it out, she realized it was tall, flared at the bottom, with silk laces running through the back and a small silver lock hanging open from a latch. A handwritten note fluttered down from the box, the script matching her address from earlier, simply saying, “Keep your head up, Princess.”

Taking the collar, Elle lifted her chin and slid it down, pulling her long blonde locks through before shifting it in place. Even loose she found she could barely move her head, forced to hold herself in this position, eyes looking straight ahead. She strode over to the mirror, admiring the reflection. Her body still retained itself athleticism, though she had lost a step from her peak, she was still proud of the curves that stood before her. The summer sun had not yet bronzed her skin, but she was nothing close to pale, adorned in a flowery sundress that constantly threatened to reveal more of her ass or cleavage than intended with every movement. Catching her own eye, she realized she was smiling. Not smiling, beaming.

The sound of gravel under tires sent her scurrying to the window, to see His car pulling into the driveway. Rushing down the stairs, she made sure the door was unlocked, and then knelt by the doorway in anticipation. Though she had been unable to tighten the posture collar much by herself, she was still unable to keep her eyes down, per His usual command, so she kept her gaze focused intently on a point low on the wall.

A few moments later the door swung open, followed by the thud of His boots on the marble. Wordlessly, he walked behind her, taking the laces in His hand and tightening the collar ever-so-slowly. As each lace threaded through, the collar grew tighter, restricting her airway, making it feel as if she was being steadily, though gently, choked. Elle could feel a shiver run up her spine at the sensation. His hands were delicate, gently brushing her hair away so it wouldn’t be pinned beneath the collar, His fingernails lightly tickling her scalp and the tops of her shoulders.

“Is that too tight, Princess? It looks incredible on you”

“No, Sir. It’s perfect.” Her voice had a dreamy, breathless quality the way it always did when He was here. She felt somewhere between a silly schoolgirl and a filthy fucktoy at all times, but there was no stress, no thoughts, nothing to do but listen and obey. Her trust in Him was complete, so when He reached down and took her hand, she stood up without question, following His lead to the dining room.

“Get me a coffee, Princess.”

“Of course, Sir.”

She scampered to the kitchen, her long hair sashaying behind her as she walked, while He sat down at the table expectantly. There was a reverence to her motions, if such simple things can be done with reverence, as she picked His favorite mug, and poured carefully, before returning to Him with the steaming liquid and waiting silently for her next instruction. His hand reached down and lifted the hem of her skirt, exposing her bare pussy, and for a moment she felt an urge to recoil, to cover herself, but His training kicked in and she stayed still. Strangely, she felt proud. She was obedient, responding to His wishes, knowing that her body should be on display at all times and His enjoyment of her brought a sense of accomplishment.

“I could use a little wake up, Princess,” he said, grabbing her wrist and tugging in a familiar direction.

Smiling, she followed His lead, sliding under the table to her knees. A surprising thing happened here, as she went to assume her familiar position between His legs, she realized that the act of leaning forward, a necessary component of the task ahead of her, caused the collar to dig further into her throat. This, in turn, increased the sensation of being choked, and the difficulty breathing that accompanied it. For a second, she panicked, her natural fight or flight instincts kicking in, and she thought about asking to take it off, but then she remembered the way His voice had sounded, telling her that it looked good on her and she regained her composure.

Reaching a hand up to unbuckle His belt, she slid her other hand in passed His zipper, massaging His cock gently as she worked His pants free. Above her, she could hear the sound of the paper rustling, and a sip of coffee followed by a satisfied sigh. A steady constriction closed around her neck as she leaned in to kiss the tops of His thighs, sliding His pants and boxers down, savoring the musky scent of His sex so close by. Her mouth found the head, slowly swirling her tongue around and around, feeling it stiffen and swell in response to her deft ministrations. All the while, she felt herself laboring for every breath, but somehow the pain made her even more reverent in her duties.

Slowly she opened her mouth, mindful of her teeth, pushing forward as His length slid down over her tongue, pushing into her throat. Stifling a gag, she tried to rise up and change her angle, but His hand came down, forcefully pulling on the back of her head, impaling her on the full length. Aside from being longer than she was used to, His member was thick as well, which combined with the posture collar to completely choke her. Again, she panicked, opening and closing her hands in quick succession to stave off tapping out, calming as His hand guided her head backwards, long strands of saliva and precum connecting her to His cock.

Worship. It was the only word for what happened underneath that table, as she lovingly worked her mouth and tongue up and down the length, dutifully swirling His balls in her mouth, her hands folded behind her back as He had taught her. Her mind was focused solely on the task at hand, her body humming with energy as her mouth gratefully accepted every inch of a cock that was most decidedly not her husband.

With a groan, He pulled her head free, disrupting her reverie and leaving Elle panting with desire. She realized with a mixture of shame and lust that her pussy was now completely soaked, dripping wet at the prospect of what was to come. As He stood, His grip on her hair tugged insistently, lifting Elle to her feet. Spinning her around, He slammed her wrist firmly onto the table before grabbing the other and locking them both in place with a rap on her knuckles. Elle remembered the first time they’d gone through that training, where a tap meant to stay, and the bruises that she had earned for being a slow learner…or maybe a little bratty.

His movements were deliberate, His focus on her body intense. She could feel His eyes admiring her, and couldn’t help shaking her butt just a little bit, to express her desire. And then, the head of His cock, teasing her, tracing the length of each labia, slipping along her clit, so close to her she could practically feel her body opening up to accept His gift. With a grunt, he gripped her hips tightly, pulling her body back onto His cock. Elle lost all semblance of propriety and unleashed a purring moan of pure lust, feeling the heat from her pussy spread throughout her body. His hands were so strong, they demanded things from her, and Elle was more than happy to oblige. With each thrust of His cock she fought the urge to push herself back, taking Him deeper, knowing that her body was at His disposal.

As He fucked her, he reached over and grabbed a wooden spoon resting on the edge of the kitchen table. Lifting it high, He brought it down with a loud CRACK across her ass. Elle yelped and instinctively tried to pull away, but His hands kept her locked in place. Again, He hit her, and again she cried out in pain. Each blow traced a grid across her ass, covering her flesh in bright red marks that would soon fade to deep bruises. Elle blushed, telling herself to sign up for another riding class before the weekend. Even an easily bruised butt needed to have some reason for colors as vivid as the ones He was marking her with now. And then, all thought was lost again, as Elle lost herself in the pleasure of being taken.

There was an indescribable release that came from being used. Elle was not a participant in this, there was no love being made, she was being fucked. Experience taught her that His hand would eventually find her clit and she would cum harder than she ever had with her husband, but she also knew there were times that after He finished she was tossed to the floor and left there in silence until her presence was needed again. Elle suddenly realized she didn’t know which she was more excited about, feeling the weight of her large breasts bouncing as His pace quickened.

He was getting close. She could feel the faint pulse of His cock, the tightness in His grip. After one final blow with the spoon, that shattered it into pieces across the kitchen, He snaked a hand around her thigh and began to quickly tease her clit. Fuck. Elle collapsed against Him, barely clinging onto the table enough to stay upright, feeling her body pivoting back and forth atop her massive tits. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow, didn’t say anything. He just fucked her, hard and fast like He always has. Elle could feel her legs trembling, the orgasm building within her and then slowly rippling out, her body tapping into some primal consciousness that made itself manifest via a shrieking, shuddering moan.

His hands grasped her hips, but to Elle’s surprise, he lifted her up off the ground and onto the sturdy wood of the table. The table that she had just prepared breakfast for her husband on, the table she would sit at with her family, now covered with her naked, panting form. Elle gasped for breath, before He rolled her onto her back, her head dangling off the edge of the table. Standing before her, He forced His cock into her throat. From this angle, there was nothing she could do to resist, His manhood pounded into her open mouth, a guttural sound indicating her moderately successful attempt to keep breathing while He used her face for His pleasure.

His hand found her clit again, and in spite of herself and the situation, Elle found herself climaxing again. This time, He pushed the full length of His shaft into her throat and came with her. Elle could feel the twitch and pulse of His cock, the jets of warm cum filling her throat, running back up and seeping out the sides of her mouth. Tears slid down from the corners of her eyes, as waves of pleasurable bliss washed over her. This was what she had always wanted but never been able to put into words. She knew she wasn’t a slut, or a whore. She was His slut and would have it no other way.

Dutifully, she swallowed every drop, lapping up the bits of cum that had fallen to the tile below. Then she continued to bob her head back and forth, until He indicated that she was done. Resting back on her knees once more, Elle laid her cheek against His thigh, while He stroked her hair and continued to drink His morning coffee in the stillness of her suburban home.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/badgfi/secrets_mf_cheating_ds

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