Seven Dates: A Different Kind of Hotwife (12 page)

He closed the French doors behind us. I drifted over to Joanie who was now shivering slightly. Alejandro walked over to a large wooden chest, and removed a item from the top drawer. He handed it to me. A black, leather choker, with a small golden ring, identical to the one worn by his housekeeper.

“If you want this,” he said to me, “prepare her for me. Strip her and collar her.”

He sat down in a comfortable leather armchair and observed.

“Yes, Alejandro,” I replied.

I turned back to my wife. She gave me an imploring look.
Are you sure you want to do this?

For your guilt,
I mouthed. She hesitated for a moment and then gave me a quick nod. I was sure Alejandro had seen, that he’d judge me for my weakness in requesting her assent. But then again, he already knew I was too soft with her.

I gave her the collar to hold. She fingered the soft leather nervously. My own hands trembling, I reached out and pulled her dress off her shoulders, dramatically increasing the amount of visible cleavage. Joanie was breathing hard, face flush.

I walked around behind her, both so I could reach her zipper more easily, but also so that Alejandro could see her face, her breasts as I stripped her. I was giving her to him, but I wanted to see his expression, his admiration as he first saw my wife’s perfect, naked body.

I slowly pulled down the zipper of her dress. Joanie shuddered as she felt the fabric loosen around her, then begin to sag. Her hands twitched as she struggled to resist the temptation to catch it before it slid off completely. She managed to stay still, and then with a sudden whoosh, the dress flowed downward, pausing for just a moment at her hips, and the pooling down around her feet. She gasped and shivered.

I helped her step out of the gown. She was now just in her black bra and panties, and her heels. I admired her gorgeous, hard, round ass from behind, but Alejandro had the better view being able to take in the entire sweep of her body, her slender legs, flat stomach, her large breasts almost overflowing her bra, her beautiful face, excited, nervous, embarrassed all at once.

My hands trembled as I reached for her bra clasp. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. How had we gotten to the point where I was willingly, enthusiastically even, stripping my wife for another man? He would discipline her, but I knew he would also take his pleasure. Once she was nude and collared, she’d be his to do with as he wished.

I pulled her shoulder straps to the side, and I unsnapped her bra from behind. I held it taut for a moment, letting the anticipation build. She seemed to be holding her breath. I finally released the straps, and her bra slid off, falling to her feet. She couldn’t stay her hands this time. Instinctively, they flew up to cover her big boobs.

I reached around and took her hands in mine, and firmly pressed them back against her sides. Then I reached up and cupped her breasts in my hands, displaying them to him. I circled her nipples with my fingertips, and felt them stiffen at my touch. When I released them, they remained erect, swollen. I knew he was seeing now some of the most perfect breasts in his life. The thought filled me with a weird pride.

She knew what was coming next, but she still gasped as she felt me squat down and place my hands on her ass. I could smell her arousal, and bending lower, I could see a spot of shiny wetness on her panties. I took a hold of the sheer fabric, and slowly, slowly began to pull it down. I remembered suddenly that she’d shaved for me, feeling a spike of jealousy that the first man to get a really good look at her newly bare snatch would be Alejandro rather than me. As her panties reached her ankles, she lifted one foot, then the other to let me slide them off. I tossed them, along with her bra onto her dress.

“Do you want her barefoot?” I asked.

“No, she can keep on her heels.”

I nodded and stood. Circling around to face her, I couldn’t help but admire her body, note her excitement. Her nipples remained erect, her breasts heaved, her face flush. She handed me the collar and I fastened it around her neck, as she licked her lips. I stepped back to admire her. A sex goddess. Transformed from my sweet, innocent wife into the woman I’d always fantasized lurked within.

I heard his footsteps behind me.

“Leash her, please,” said Alejandro.

I turned and he handed me the thin, black, leather leash I’d seen earlier. I took it from him and attached it to the collar around my wife’s neck. He changed out of his suit jacket into a loose fitting, satin smoking jacket that might have been stolen from Hugh Hefner’s closet. Somehow it worked on him.

We exchanged a quick glance. Nothing profound passed between us, but maybe that was the point. This was just an experience, an experiment, a form of adult play. Or maybe I was the only one thinking that. Maybe Joanie was just in shock. I wouldn’t know until later.

I faced Alejandro. He held out his hand to me. I looked at the leash in my own palm. Once I handed it over, she would be his, until he decided to release her. I handed him the leash and watching his fist close on the soft leather.

I stepped back, retreating from them, and as I did, the room seemed to darken, just a spotlight illuminating them, as if on a stage. I was suddenly nothing more than a spectator, the fourth wall rising up, separating me from them. I was tempted to sit in his armchair, but somehow that seemed wrong. Instead I found a different seat in an upholstered, hardback dining room chair, which further contributed to the feeling of being at a play.

He gave a quick yank on the leash, just enough to get her attention. She edged closer to him. He reached out with his free hand. She flinched slightly as he cupped her breast, but his touch was gentle. His thumb encircled her engorged nipple. Even in her heels, he was much taller than her, and with her naked and him clothed, he seemed even more dominant.

“You’re quite a beautiful little pet.”

He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She squirmed at his touch.

“Be still,” he commanded.

She stiffened, even as he continued to play with her nipple, now pulling on it, elongating it, lifting up her heavy breast.

“But you’re sinful.”

He slapped downward hard, two fingers catching her nipple with a loud smack.

“Owww!”

She backed away, but he brought her back with a quick yank on the leash.

“Oh, yes,” he continued. “Sinful. Pride!”

He smacked her nipple again.

“Oww!”

“Yes, pride. You think your beauty is enough that you can do whatever you want. And you’ve been right. Until now. Wrath!”

Another quick, two finger slap on the nipple.

She cried out again.

“You let your anger carry you away in self-indulgence. Lust!”

Another smack. She whined in pain.

“You are sinful, girl, and you must atone for your sins,” he thundered. “You must be scourged until you repent.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wooden clothespin. With a quick movement, he reached out and clamped it on her already battered nipple. She howled in pain and reached to remove it, but he caught her hands and easily held them away from her body until she submitted, her arms going limp and dropping to her side as he released her.

“Cross your wrists behind your back,” he ordered.

She hesitated and he flicked at the clothespin. She hissed, but complied with his demand. As he walked around her, he trailed his fingers over her trembling body.

“This is for your own good,” he said.

He withdrew a long, silk scarf from another pocket and wound it around her wrists. He tied the ends together in a firm knot. He circled back around, again casually touching her. He grabbed the clothespin.

She looked up at him, red-faced and gasping.

“Are you ready to confess your sins?”

She nodded.

“Speak.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” he eyed her expectantly.

“Yes…. Father.”

I saw a twinkle in his eye, but he managed to keep a straight face. Still, he was clearly pleased at how quickly she’d taken to it. He released his grip on the clamp. She relaxed visibly.

“I am prepared to confess my sins,” she replied.

“You’ve committed adultery?”

She nodded. “Yes, Father….”

He read the incompleteness of her answer. “More than once?”

“Yes, Father, with five men and one woman.”

He paused as he seemed to consider that. Then suddenly he reached out and sharply twisted the clothespin still fastened to her nipple. She cried out.

“You know you must be punished,” he said, still grasping the clothespin.

She eyed the clamp warily. “Yes, Father,” she gasped.

Another small twist. She groaned and shuddered. A drop of sweat ran from her hairline down the side of her face.

“Tell me about the first one,” Alejandro ordered.

Joanie nodded. “It was our neighbor. I was angry at my husband. I wanted to hurt him. I went the across the street and knocked on the man’s door. I offered myself to him. I offered to satisfy him orally.”

He seemed to consider that. “Show me.”

She hesitated. He twisted the clothespin. She yelped.

“On your knees, harlot,” he thundered, “and show me how you abased yourself for this man.”

He yanked down on the leash and she sank to her knees. She watched in some combination of anxiousness and anticipation as he slowly lowered his zipper. With great deliberation, he slowly pulled out his prick. Tormenting her had chubbed him up, but he was far from hard. He was very big already, thick, and I suspected that when fully erect he’d be even larger than Donald. I wondered if Joanie would be able to handle him, and I felt a surge of excitement as I realized that leashed and bound she’d have no choice but to try.

He ran his fingers through her thick, dark hair, tenderly for a moment before suddenly seizing a clump in his fist. Her pained whine turned into a surprised yelp as he pulled her forward, off-balance. With her hands tied behind her, she was totally at his mercy. He pulled her face into his crotch.

To my surprise, and I think his as well, she easily took his fat tool deep into her mouth. Our neighbor, John, seemed to have done a good job with her. I could hear my wife slurping wetly on Alejandro’s cock as he looked down at her with increasing affection. When he pulled her upright by the hair, his long, thick cock slid out of her mouth, gleaming with her saliva. She looked up and him submissively and, as he stepped forward, she again opened wide to accept him.

There was something about her that was different, a new eagerness to please. When he let his prick dangle before her, she reached out with her tongue to lick his cock head. He alternated between face fucking her, with long, slow strokes that must have reached her throat, and interludes where he allowed her to gently suckle him, her cheeks hollowed out, her tongue swirling on his shaft.

I could tell he was getting close. His thrusts were harder. Joanie gagging on his big prick, looking up at him with tears in her eyes, but never giving up or trying to squirm away. He pulled out.

“Open your mouth, but don’t swallow,” he instructed.

She gave him a quick nod and opened wide, flattening her tongue out over her teeth. He stroked himself once, twice, and then began coming into my wife’s mouth. She flinched, but he held her firmly in place as he drained his load. She looked up at him expectantly, her mouth full of his come.

“Not yet.”

She was breathing hard through her nose. Saliva mixed with come began to drool out of the corners of her mouth, tracing the line of her chin, forming drops that dripped onto her big, heaving breasts.

He eased her back onto her heels and deliberately returned his cock to his trousers. When he’d zipped up, he gave her a quick nod.

“You may partake of me,” he said. And like a good little Catholic taking her wafer at communion, my wife swallowed his come with a loud gulp.

He yanked her to her feet by the leash. She stumbled a little, but he caught her. When she was standing, his hand reached out for the clothespin. She winced and shuddered. He played with her trepidation, handling the clamp in a way that must have sent twinges of pain through her nipple, but which hinted at much worse. Then finally, with a small smile, he pinched it open and removed it.

She breathed a sigh of relief as I gaped at her nipple, which was now a dark, purplish red, and more swollen and distended than I’d ever seen it. He cupped her breast and his thumb circled her wounded nipple, which judging by her reaction was equal parts soothing and painful.

“Your adultery was not only oral, was it?” he asked.

“No Father. I also let men have sex with me.”

“And the next man, who was he? And how did he have you?”

She shuddered before answering, knowing her punishment would be severe. “It was Kellen’s half brother, and he bent me over a table and took me from behind.”

I raised the glass of bourbon to my lips. My hands were trembling. That was why I was having the bourbon. To calm my nerves.

I was sitting in the bar at the Intercontinental. I’d just left Joanie and Alejandro back in his apartment. He’d bent her over his heavy, mahogany dining room table.

He had her detail the rest of her encounter with John, and then the specifics of her time with Cody. The whole time, he ran his hands over her, gently, but ominously, in a way that made her tremble with expectancy.

Then, when she was done, he walked over to an armoire. Withdrawing a key from his jacket pocket, he unlocked the heavy wooden doors. Inside was a veritable arsenal of tools of discipline and pleasure.

Joanie glanced over her shoulder anxiously as he removed first a flail, then a riding crop. He seemed to contemplate them, though I suspected he was merely taking the opportunity to let Joanie see them. He returned them to their hooks and then withdrew a heavy, wooden paddle, dotted with holes to allow the air to pass through and the paddle to swing smoothly.

He approached my shivering wife and again caressed her beautiful, unmarked ass. Then without hesitation he drew back the table and swung it hard. The wood made contact with her flesh with a thunderous clack. She cried out in pain. When he lowered the paddle, I could see her butt was already bright red.

Alejandro turned toward me, acknowledging me for the first time since he’d taken the leash from my hand.

“This is going to take a long time. Perhaps it would be best if you left her with me for now.”

I looked at my wife, writhing against the table in pain, her breath coming in ragged gasps. But despite the abuse, I could see that she was still very excited. Her bare pussy swollen and glistening.

I nodded.

“When are you leaving?” he asked.

“We’re staying another night.”

He inclined his head in thought. “Then I will return her tomorrow night before dinner.”

He returned his attention to her. “Yes, my sweet, we have much work to do, and only a limited time to do it.”

I had been dismissed, and suddenly it felt like I was intruding on a private moment. I rose quickly and let myself out the front door. As I approached the elevator, I heard another resounding smack, another loud yelp of pain from my wife.

I downed my drink in one quick gulp, relishing the burn in my throat and the immediate rush in my head. I ordered another.

***

I slept fitfully and woke up at dawn. I changed into my running attire and took off through the streets of Mexico City, watching them slowly come to life on that Monday morning as I logged the miles. My chest burned from the altitude, and my lack of fitness. That was another thing I’d been neglecting recently. Whatever else happened, I knew I would need to find a way to restore balance to my life.

Every few minutes I thought about Joanie, and every time I quickened my pace, driving out those thoughts with the burn of my exertion. It was my own form of punishment, but also practical. I wanted to have those discussions about our past, our present, our future, together. At least as far as she was concerned, I was done with scheming on my own.

The day dragged by slowly, and my intention to keep my wife out of my mind until she returned repeatedly faltered. I kept returning to the image of the armoire full of implements of discipline but also of pleasure, because in addition to the whips and restraints, there were also dildos, plugs, vibrators, oils, and lotions. I knew from the way he’d tenderly caressed her, before, after, the slaps and the paddling, that at any given moment he’d be pleasuring her rather than punishing her. Indeed, I knew that was essential. The juxtaposition between pain and enjoyment the essence of the game.