SEAL'd Honor (Brotherhood of SEAL'd Hearts) by Gabi Moore (31)

Chapter 11 - Natasha

The guy didn’t look like much to be afraid of.

He was kind of skinny, kind of out of shape, but nice enough looking. At any rate, the woman seemed pretty into it. But then again, did it matter if she was into it or not? It was all very confusing.

She kind of just sat there and let him do his thing. He tied the velvety ropes round her arms and fumbled with them, winding them clumsily round the bed post. Then she just kind of laid there, blindfold on. Was she bored? Loving it? Hard to say. There were clothes and empty boxes on the floor of their bedroom.

I clicked ahead. He was on top of her now, hunching away into her open legs as she lay there, doing nothing. Huh. A bit boring. I clicked ahead some more. She had his dick in her mouth, and was moaning quietly, blindfold still on. I closed the video.

What a snooze. If that’s anything like what he had in mind for me, I was hoping I’d be able to stay awake long enough. I trilled my nails on the table and then tapped the keyboard. ‘Sex slave wife’ I told the search engine. Little blocks popped up, each a window filled with naked bodies. A catalogue of fucking. Here, maybe, I could find answers about what was to happen to me in within the next 2 hours, since Todd himself was keeping silent and leaving me alone with my thoughts.

My husband had gone rogue. I’m certainly no prude, but if he was going to pull some kinky thing on me, I wanted to be prepared.

I scrolled listlessly through most of the videos, nothing really catching my eye. “Hot wife shared with neighbor”. Interesting. I clicked. Interesting. A suited, bored looking guy sat on a sofa and tried to watch TV while his “wife” screwed a guy on the coffee table in front of him. Huh. I closed the window.

What should I search for next? “Cheating wife punished”. The little blocks that popped up were uglier. Tied, bound bodies. Breasts pulled. Contorted faces. I scrolled quickly past. That stuff was pretty out there. Surely those women weren’t actually enjoying it?

Again, did it matter though? That was kind of the point, I guess. If they made me do “everything”, was this kind of thing included? How much everything did he mean? And again, would it matter if I didn’t like it?

It was my punishment, after all. But what if they tied me down and I couldn’t escape?

I scrolled back through the videos again, forcing myself to look. It was nasty stuff. All the men were old and fat and ugly and mean looking. And the women too. Their bodies were all red and twisted. Fuck. I slammed the laptop shut. That wasn’t nearly as much fun as I thought it might be. I sighed and looked at the other item that had captured my attention for the last few hours.

Todd had left me a little card with nothing on it but a handwritten date, time and address. It was an address I didn’t recognize, but some snooping revealed it was registered to a name I thought sounded familiar. I really never do pay attention at the galas, it’s true. Anyway, it was too late for that. There were no clothing requirements this time. No clues. I was just meant to do as I was told.

I’ve dressed for lavish birthday parties in Kuwait, and I’ve dressed for formal dinners in Moscow, and I’ve found exactly the right high heels that I’d need to wear for yacht parties, and horse races, and glitzy charity benefits. But I was stumped about what the hell I should be wearing right now. I settled on a simple pair of torn black jeans and an apricot colored crop top – when in doubt, keep it plain. I finished the look with some heels, gold loop earrings and a few bangles. I looked hot, no doubt. But for the first time in my life, I wasn’t quite sure if that’s even what I should be aiming for.

I looked at the time. Was I always on the clock with this man?

I called for the driver and bit my lip nervously. Some men, somewhere, had paid $50 000 for the privilege of fucking me. Was that a lot? I couldn’t even think about it. Had they all sat around in a room and haggled for me? Where they together, right now? Would Todd …join in? We hadn’t really touched each other sexually in almost a year.

I hated that he had left me alone to sit with my thoughts. Because my thoughts were predominantly embarrassing. It was irritating to admit, but I was excited. Like a kid at Christmas. It was a silly, hopeful, embarrassing excitement. But no problem, I’d conceal it from him. I was a slut, after all. He’d have to have something pretty amazing up his sleeve to impress me, right?

The driver and I drove on silence, and I had to stop myself from chewing my lip ragged. The trip was short, and we soon arrived at a prim, manicured garden in front of a stately looking double story home with a little fountain in the front. Fine. If I was going to be sold into slavery like some human cattle, then at least I would do it here, where the driveway was so long and well maintained.

My feet crunched on the gravel and I stood there, glad I hadn’t overdressed, and suddenly feeling relieved. What bad things could happen to me, when the sun was so bright? Sure, whoever lived in this house was a person who’d pay $25 000 to fuck another man’s wife. But they also cared about a nice lawn, so there was that. Maybe this would be fun.

The front door cracked open and a tiny Asian woman stepped out to greet me and gestured for me to come up the stairs. I did. She ushered me inside. It was an unremarkable entrance hall, for this area code at least. A high ceiling with some skylights, flowers in urns. A little Asian woman. I had seen a million lobbies like this in my life. I made myself ‘at home’. She closed the door and indicated for me to head down the hall, nodding and bowing instead of speaking.

My heels clacked on the marble floors as I walked down the hall. I turned back to see her still standing in the lobby, and she encouraged me to keep going, gesturing to take a turn to the left, smiling broadly. Alrighty then.

I took a look at the tasteful watercolors framed on the wall and then ducked into the first room to my left. Closing a heavy carved door behind me, I stood for a moment and took it all in. I was inside an elegantly decorated room, something you were more likely to find in the White House than in the Playboy Mansion. It was a theme on beige: beige carpets, beige drapes. More marble on the side tables that flanked a beige couch. But this wasn’t beige really. Rich-people beige. Maybe “shell” or “bone”. The walls were beige, too.

Satisfied that there were no obvious whips and chains to be found, I stepped into the room and discovered a little handwritten card, like the previous one, with further instructions. I was like Alice in Wonderland, only they were going to eat me.

You will put on everything that’s in the box. Someone will come collect you within ten minutes. Leave all your belongings in the box. You are not to speak until you are spoken to.

The handwriting was the same as the one I had already received, telling me to come here. But it wasn’t Todd’s handwriting.

I lay it back on the table again and noticed a black cardboard box underneath. I pulled this out. If it was anything like the last black box I opened, it would be a tacky French maid’s outfit inside with garter belt and trashy looking stockings. I lifted the lid. It wasn’t any of that. It was just two items, both of which needed closer examination.

The first was a piece of fabric, very soft to the touch. It was no bigger than a hand towel, and I turned it over and over in my hands to try and understand its shape. It was black, and had one long, rough seam in it, like a big, floppy ice cream cone that was open at the bottom. A hood. It was a hood.

I let it fall from my trembling hands and picked up the other item. At first it looked like a precisely two-inch-thick section of a metal pipe, as wide as a side plate in diameter, with two loops in the front. A collar. The circle didn’t close fully, but could be bent open and shut, and locked through the front rings. This too I placed back in the box, and paused for a while to think. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t help the ugly images that began to flash in my mind. Women bound. Gagged. I couldn’t push the images of welted skin and twisted faces out of my mind.

I could run. I could turn around right now and leave. I was still young. I could start again, find someone else, be someone else… My fingers went to the soft black material again.

Quickly, I stripped off all my clothes and folded them neatly. I peeled off my underwear, the bra and panties I had spent eons picking out just an hour ago, and kicked off my heels. Naked. The plain beige room I was in suddenly seemed all wrong. It was broad daylight, and I was about to be ‘sold’.

I picked up the collar and arranged it around my neck, positioning the loops to the front, and fanning my hair out over it. The hood I hesitated with. I held the material up to the light. There was no way in hell I was seeing anything through that. I put it over my head, nervously, as though once it went on I couldn’t be sure of being able to pull it off again.

Inside the hood, there was nothing but my own breath. The world around me went from beige to black. Outside my little black world, I felt my skin prickle in the cool air, naked and defenseless. What in God’s name was I even doing? Was I crazy? Less than two weeks ago I would have laughed if you had told me that any of this had a chance of happening.

But in the darkness I could admit it: I was immensely turned on. I stood in the center of the room, listening to my own heartbeat and breath, getting used to the insane decision I had just made for myself, when I heard the door click open.

Chapter 12 - Todd

It was all going to plan.

Fuck, if I had known how easy all of this would be to arrange, I might have done it sooner. I’m a billionaire, and you could round me up to a multi-billionaire depending on who’s counting. I’m certainly no stranger to getting what I want, when I want it. As long as there’s enough money, you’d be surprised at what you can make a reality.

Nevertheless, I was a little surprised.

When the maid brought her in, I felt like my heart did a double take. It was her. Even hooded, I could recognize that body a mile away. Every little part of her seemed tense and pricked, as though her skin could compensate for her new loss of sight. She held her hands loosely clasped in front of her. Good. I liked that. That was the correct way to hold them. Perhaps this would all go much better than I had even planned.

The maid closed the door and scurried off, probably relieved. I made a note to ask what the hell Peter was thinking hiring a woman who clearly couldn’t speak English …but I had a sneaky suspicion I already knew the answer. Peter was a known rebel, a bit of a wild card. Money made some people mean. It just made Peter Cromwell nuttier.

Peter Cromwell was the kind of guy who won friends in school for taking on the dares that nobody else would ever dream of doing. Now that he was older and stinking rich, the dares were just bigger and more elaborate. He was currently away in China speaking to manufacturers about several pet projects he had, the app-controlled dildo one of them, and had insisted that if I were to do any kinky sex stuff, that he’d be simply offended if we didn’t make use of his beautiful home. And so here we were.

Me, and two suited men I had extensive business relations with, in an indoor pool room that was so large and gaudy it would have made a Roman emperor blush. It was an Olympic sized pool, but nestled in amongst vaulted arches, all tiled in tiny mosaics describing mythical scenes. The pool water wasn’t blue – it was black. I had already reached down and splashed in it to confirm – not black tiling underneath, but the water itself was dark and silky looking.

We sat in comfy chairs arranged in a circle around her, where she had been positioned. She didn’t move, but I could tell she was trembling. I had explained the script in detail. Everyone here knew exactly what was expected of them. Now, it was just a matter of having the nerve.

Do you think I’m crazy for wanting to do it? I can guess what the armchair psychologists think. Me, the poor emasculated male, rich but so very, very poor in matters of the heart. My whore of a wife keeps from me the only thing I’ve ever really wanted. And so I punish her. Only I don’t really punish her. I just prove to her that although she thinks she can defy me and disrespect me, at the end of the day, I’m still in charge. I’m always in charge. My fragile male ego gets a boost, I don’t have to admit that she’s broken my heart in two and I don’t ever think I’ll be the same again, and she gets to whore around all the same, and keep her credit card.

Well, that’s the theory anyway. Is any of it true? I don’t fucking know. But I do know that seeing her now, stripped nude and hooded and paraded around in front of me like a piece of meat was going a long way to making me feel better. It’s hard to describe the sense of sick satisfaction I felt. She was a whore. Anyone could see it. She was cheap and tacky even without a stitch of clothing on. But she was my whore.

I looked over at Adam Cane and Daniel Mc Cormick. Through a series of exchanges which I won’t bore you with now, I had arranged for these two men to come and fuck my wife. And so here they were.

I knew that things happened in certain higher echelons of society. Of course. I knew that when people got bored enough, and had enough money, the parties could get rather …extravagant. I had never cared before. But now that I had seen how easy it all was to dip into, how quickly the veil was removed and how close I had been to the underbelly all along …let’s just say this was an education for me too.

“Gentlemen, my wife Natasha,” I said.

Her bare feet looked so small and fragile on the tiles. Briefly, I wondered if she was getting cold.

Adam nodded his head, satisfied, and Daniel passed his gaze up and down her slender frame over and over again, then looked at me and nodded too. The goods were satisfactory. Now the transaction would begin.

Both men stood and went over to her. I swallowed down a lump in my throat. Four hands passed roughly over her body, touching her everywhere, and I saw her spine curl a little in response to their touch.

“Remember, gentlemen, don’t be gentle. She’s being punished,” I said, and I didn’t sound nervous at all. Daniel had her nipples between his fingertips, and I watched as her chest rose and fell with her rapid breathing. The hands went over her thighs, brushing briefly between them.

“Now get on your knees,” I said.

She took a moment to consider my command before she carefully lowered herself obediently. I could tell the tiled floor hurt her knees. Tough. She rested her hands on her thighs and stared straight ahead. It was a pretty demure pose, for someone who had written the things she’d written in that filthy diary of hers. But the artifice wouldn’t last long.

Adam glanced at me and then back at Natasha. This man and I worked well together. He was a quick thinker, a smart guy who knew he was doing, and tough as nails. And apparently, his fantasies were complementary to mine, as well. He collected antique cars and out of print books, and after a little probing, I discovered that he also rather liked the idea of fucking women who didn’t belong to him. Daniel I knew less well, although as a lifelong friend of Adam’s and someone he had vouched for, I had no doubts that they were precisely the right men to teach my dirty wife a lesson. They both lowered their zips and pressed their crotches to her hooded head. She wobbled a little and steadied herself on Adam’s leg, as they both pulled out their erections.

Adam slowly removed the hood, and it came off in a tangle of blonde waves, underneath which was her flushed, pretty face, so pink against the black of their suits, of the pool, of the situation itself. Like a magnet finding true North, her eyes shot instantly to me, and she searched my face.

“Don’t look at me,” I said. “Suck them. Both of them.”

She turned with deer-in-headlights eyes and peered up at both of them. Adam’s hand stroked down her wild hair and then took her chin in his hand, raising her gaze to both men. They looked down at her hungry. I had chosen these men because when it came to getting what they wanted, they didn’t hold back.

“You heard the man,” Adam said. His cock was shorter than mine, but thicker, and purplish. Nothing my little whore of a wife hadn’t seen before, of course. Her little hands clasped against his still-clothed hips and the cock went into her throat. Something kicked inside me. I tightened my hands around the arms of the chair, unable to tear my eyes away from the pink lips curled around his shaft.

Daniel stood to the side and waited his turn, his cock stabbing out from the slit in his trousers, the rest of him perfectly dressed, right down to the Rolex and cufflinks. He was larger than both Adam and I, and his cock had a pronounced bend upwards. I had never before considered other men this way, but I tried to see their bodies through Natasha’s eyes. I tried to picture them for the effect they’d have on her. I found myself staring at Daniel’s rod, pleased with the thought that this would please her the most. Maybe even hurt her.

The first few times Adam’s cock sank into her pretty mouth, she shot hesitant glances at me, almost waiting for me to stop her. When I didn’t, she threw herself into the task. Adam’s cock was soon slick as she slid her lips and tongues down and then up again, taking more and more of him each time.

Daniel pressed the swollen head of his cock against her cheek and she dutifully turned and opened her mouth for him, too. He plunged in with far less finesse and care than Adam did, and pressed himself all the way down into her throat. She gagged, pulled back and whimpered a little.

And I felt it. I felt her little heart beating in my own chest, and I saw the delicious torture plastered all over her face, and I felt it on my own. She was mine. She was sucking their cocks, but it was me, deep down in her throat. Me that could make her choke, me that could reach down inside her little body and make her shake like that.

Daniel didn’t wait for her to regain her composure, and started fucking her face, so hard she had to grasp him and steady herself against Adam’s crotch. Adam stroked her hair, half apologizing for his friend’s callousness, half relishing it. The two men passed her between them like this for a while, her knees going red on the hard tiles, and the drool beading in strings at the edge of her chin. She had whipped them both into a frenzy, and they were both rock hard and red. But I knew it was really me that she wanted to please. And she was.

“Little bitch,” Adam said, and he groaned and grabbed a fistful of her blonde hair. To my surprise she groaned back. Had it been like this, when she cheated on me? Had she groaned like that when she closed her pink lips around another man’s cock? Did she swallow their cum?

“Such a little fucking slut,” said Daniel, reaching down to play with her ample breasts.

I stood up and reached for the chain. I had spent the most time of all on sourcing this exact chain. Hard, cold, heavy. It was no play thing – this was a seriously designed and constructed industrial chain, with links 2 inches wide, the closures soldered expertly by hand. I had chosen it because of the sound it made, this chain, when handled. In fact, when I picked it up, she immediately turned with wide eyes to find the source of its sinister clink.

Make no mistake, the sound you have in your head right now? That quintessential sound of dungeons and bondage and metal on metal? Most chains don’t actually sound like that. Their clink is duller, muddier sounding. Soft, almost, as though the metal is too warm or rusted. No, I needed to have that bright, sharp, clean clink! I had paid money for this chain, and it was just right. I had paid dearly for Natasha too, and the cost was my heart. But nevermind. Now, I was due my dividends.

I rolled the links over in my hand and she watched, startled. The end of the chain was finished with a clasp. I stood and went to her, pushed her chin aside and attached the clasp through the two front loops of her collar. I gave it a hard yank forward and her neck snapped to follow. I then let it hang down over her body, between her breasts, and her collarbones sagged under its weight. Her nipples tightened in contact with the cold metal.

I stepped back, the other end of the chain still in my hands.

“Now she really is your little bitch,” Adam said, his cock pressed against her cheek.

“What do you think gentlemen?” I said. “Do we have a deal?”

They both turned their heads to the side and made as if they were sizing her up. Judging by the size of their dicks, there was no question that they were ready, but I wanted to ask the question anyway.

“Oh, I think she’ll do nicely,” Adam said.

“Very nicely,” Daniel agreed.

I yanked the chain and she came staggering forward, catching herself on her arms and landing on all fours, her extravagant hair tousled.

“Are you sure?” I said. “The sale is final, so examine her carefully to confirm she’s up to your standards.” I avoided looking at her, but I knew that she was blushing hard. Or was she? I kept my voice calm and business-like.

Daniel extended his hands over her flat back and gave her ass a quick slap. He slid a hand down the cleft and cupped her freshly waxed little mound, grasping at her with satisfaction. She was my little filly, and I was getting a good price for her at market.

“Looks good to me,” Daniel said.

“Take a good look, Adam. It’s second hand, as you know. That little cunt has seen some wear and tear by now, but I’m hoping you gentlemen can still get some use out of it…”

This time I did look at her, and found her eyes already on me. To my surprise, she no longer looked panicked. Instead, on her face seemed to be the most tender look of …appreciation? Awe? I couldn’t be sure. It was so bizarre. I tore my eyes from hers and focused on the men again.

Adam parted her ass cheeks and extended curious fingers over her, making her eyes squeeze shut. When he pulled his hand away again, his fingers were slippery.

“You like this, you little whore?” Adam said, laughed and playfully slapped her ass. Her head fell forward as she moaned.

“She loves it. In fact, every time I turn my back she’s misbehaving. So, she needs to be punished. Natasha, tell me, who do you want to fuck you first, Adam or Daniel?” I said, gesturing to each of them. She gulped and said nothing, then turned to Adam and made eye contact with him. I could tell he liked her.

“Adam? You want Adam?” I said. Of course she’d choose him. He was gentler.

“Good. Then Daniel will fuck you first,” I said, and I felt my own cock tightening in my trousers, pressing hard against the fabric of my suit. It was a classic good cop bad cop situation …or in this case, good cock bad cock. In any event, I wanted to see her fucked, hard, and a lot, and I didn’t want her to enjoy anything too much. Daniel would break her in.

Her little eyebrows quivered as she looked over at Daniel who, I had to admit, looked pretty intimidating. He was tall, well built, and a little rough looking around the edges.

“But …I’m …” she started to whimper, and for a second I felt sorry for her. I really did. But then Daniel laced his strong fingers round her neck and positioned himself behind her, menacing grin on his broad face.

“What’s that honey? You’re scared?” Daniel said. I had never heard him speak like that. Fuck, I was scared for her. But good. I wanted to see him upset her a little. I wanted to see her hurt as much as she had hurt me.

Adam smiled wryly and leaned over, then split her ass cheeks open for Daniel to pop the fat head of his cock at the entrance of her little hole. She swayed her hips from side to side and moaned. With Adam guiding, Daniel slid his length into her, firmly. She cried out loud, but I could tell she was desperately trying to muffle the sound. I would enjoy seeing her struggle.

He pressed in until his stomach was pressed hard against her ass, and she was wet enough to squelch audibly around him. It was hot. My wife, the whore, doing what she did best. It may sound strange to you, but my eyes flicked to Daniel’s face, and seeing that he was pleased, seeing how he enjoyed her cunt …my own dick twitched in sympathy.

Daniel drew back, pulling the wet shaft out again and then pumped it back in, and soon he was fucking her hard. Her little hips did all they could to stabilize against each strike, and Adam reached down and steadied her by her waist, his strong hands wrapped around her tight little belly. My instructions to them had been explicit: no kissing. No sweetness. This wasn’t a reward for her, after all. It was a punishment. If they were worried they were going too far and degrading and hurting her? Then they were on the right track. And they should push even further.

“Let me get some of that,” Adam breathed, and Daniel pulled out and made way for him. They switched positions and now Adam was deep inside her, and soon she was swirling her hips in unison with them both, her head dropping low to the floor and her breath coming in low grunts, like the animal she was.

I ignored the bulge in my own trousers; I didn’t want to miss a single second of what was unfolding in front of me. There was no point in her getting punished if I wasn’t here to verify it all, now was there?

Her knees shimmied further apart from one another and she spread her legs, pushing back into the punishment, her head still hanging low, hair veiling her face.

“She’s nice and warmed up now, gentlemen. Don’t go too easy on her,” I said. Adam flicked his eyes over to me and smiled darkly. He looked back down at her quivering ass and pounded in again, this time sending the chain round her neck clinking in a ripple along the floor.

I stood and circled around them, watching closely, not wanting to miss a single second of her defilement. I wanted to witness every inch she was rammed closer to the edge. When I had first met Natasha, we were drunk late one evening and I had held her hand and kissed it and told her that I would teach her anything she ever wanted to know. And now here we were. Life is twisted sometimes, isn’t it?

They were fucking her hard now. Daniel was in her again, and Adam had moved in front of her. He squatted own on his feet and angled his wet cock into her mouth, and like the little whore she is, she flicked aside her hair and gobbled it up. Through it all, my chain was around her neck. She was mine. Naked, bound, and at my mercy.

“Now both of you. Fuck her ass.”

Here, for the first time, she resisted a little. She didn’t move much, but I could almost feel her protest through the thick chain that linked us together. She threw worried eyes in my direction. I returned a cold gaze back at her. No matter what it took, by the time we were done here she would forever regret the second she chose to cheat on me. Oh, she would regret it deeply.

The moment stretched on forever. I watched. It took some effort, but her tight little body opened up for them, and soon they were taking turns violating her ass. I knelt in front of her as they did so and lifted her chin to me, telling her that no matter how much it hurt, she was to keep her eyes glued to me until I told her otherwise. She obeyed. At some point she went onto her back. I considered unzipping myself and forcing my cock down her throat, but I held back. She reached out for me. She wanted me. But as I said, this was a punishment, and her only job now was to endure it, not enjoy it.

When her body started to buck and shake with her first orgasm, the men grunted in approval and picked up the pace. She yelped and twitched hard, and Adam playfully slapped her ass as she orgasmed, his dick still in her.

“Your wife’s a little slut, Todd, she fucking loves it,” he said, and forced his way deeper in.

By her third or fourth orgasm, I could tell she was getting sore and overwhelmed. Good. I instructed the men to cum on her dirty, cheating face and they did, together, and she squeezed her eyes shut, face upturned to the hot squirts, her eyebrows permanently kinked. She had never let me do that to her before. Too ‘degrading’. Well, now her opinion on the matter was irrelevant.

I yanked the chain and pulled her to her feet. She staggered, face slick with white and hair in whorls all over her head. The phrase ‘hot mess’ came to mind. Out the corner of my eye I watched Adam and Daniel pull their trousers back up and adjust their shirts. They hadn’t even properly undressed. But my attention was on her.

She couldn’t look at me. I stared at her for a long time. My little whore, on her leash. Her knees were red and lined from the tiles, and her nipples were hard as bullets. Even in one of her more outrageous diary exploits, I’m pretty sure she never was fucked quite as much as she just had been. She was shaking. She was having trouble standing. It will sound sick, but for a split second, I loved her so much it hurt.

That feeling fluttered away instantly, though.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” I said, the chain still in my hands. Adam was circling loops round his neck with a blood red tie. Daniel was fixing his collar. Straight back to work – I was impressed.

“If she acts up again, you just let us know and we’ll be happy to rough her up a little,” he said, smiling wickedly.

We all stood in front of her. Each of us a foot taller than her, fully clothed, and she slumped, naked and exhausted. I peered between her thighs and clear as day, right there in front of us, a slow, heavy glob of moisture rolled its way down her inner thigh and then trickled out onto her bare knee. The men had noticed it too.

“Natasha, what’s that?” I said, stern.

She looked down and then back up at us, her skin coloring.

“Looks like your little wifey enjoyed herself,” Adam said.

“I can see that.”

The drop rolled itself out, leaving a long trail down her hot legs.

Daniel laughed, and I took a step forward, threateningly close, and dipped a finger into her ruined pussy. She was soaking and fiercely hot, though she turned her head away from mine as I leaned in.

“Gentlemen, can you see what I’m dealing with? Here we are trying to discipline this little whore for her own good and all the while she’s enjoying it. Have I been unreasonable here, Adam?” I asked.

“No sir.”

“Have we not been merciful?”

“Nothing but merciful,” he said.

“What’s a man to do, when his wife is such a dirty slut?”

“Oh I can think of a few things,” Daniel laughed.

They both stepped aside, Daniel fetching a black envelope stuffed fat with money. Her face came alive as she tracked the black envelope being passed to me. We shook hands.

“It’s been a pleasure,” said Adam, and the two left.

I could make out faint red dents in her skin, where the chain was pressing down on her.

“What’s that?” she whispered.

“It’s the money they paid to fuck you:”

“Give it to me.”

I laughed.

“I think you misunderstand, Natasha. You’re mine. I sold you. Now this money is mine. What made you think that you had any say in this?”

She stood up taller.

“That money is mine,” she said. It seemed an odd point to argue. She was naked, for fucks sake, thighs sticky and mascara blurred, and I had just watched her get pummeled by two strange men with a steel chain round her throat. It was a hardly a good position from which to bargain.

“The arrangement is between me and my two associates. You’re just the product. Your free ride is over, Natasha. From here on out, you pay your way. And since you’re only good for fucking, that’s what you’ll do.”

I had never seen her cheeks a more vivid shade of pink. I thought she might leap out at me and try to tear my head off my shoulders, but she just stood still and quietly smoldered, hands clenched.

“You made me do this. You forced me to –”

“Nobody forced you. You did it of your own free will. You could have walked away at any point. Walk away now, I dare you,” I said, and flung the chain down onto the tiles with an echoing clatter.

She jumped back but stood her ground.

“See?” I said.

She was still wet. She hadn’t even wiped the cum from her face yet. I briefly considered bending her over and fucking her again, just to drive the point home, but she looked beat up enough already. I was, after all, feeling merciful.

“You made your choice long ago, Natasha. You chose to be a whore. The only difference now is that I can see you.”

She opened her mouth to say something but I cut her short, raising a hand to silence her.

“I don’t care what you have to say. Clean yourself up, for God sake, and we’ll talk again when you’re not so …dirty. We have plans to make”

“What plans?”

“Your punishment.”

“I’ve just been punished!”

“Your insolence right now has convinced me that your punishment wasn’t to my satisfaction after all. You’ve clearly learnt nothing. I underestimated just how hard I would have to be on you.”

I stared at her intently, daring her to say something else. She didn’t. What would satisfy me? I didn’t know. But I would know it when I felt it. When she was crumpled in a heap in front of me, well fucked, slightly bruised and sore and begging for my forgiveness, then maybe we could stop this game. Maybe then her apologies and platitudes would mean something. Maybe once I’d put her flushed little body through enough, she’d earn her absolution. But until then?

Well, I had phone calls to make.

Chapter 13 - Natasha

I adjusted my hips on the mattress and winced. Ouch.

Once I arrived home, I had tumbled into bed, sinking into a blank sleep that lasted more than ten hours. It was late morning when I finally awoke, feeling like my whole body and mind had been dunked in water and scrubbed clean. The world around me seemed crisp and light and fresh. When was the last time I had slept so well, anyway?

The only thing assuring me that what happened last night wasn’t a dream was the searing pain between my legs. I shifted my weight on the chair again. Ouch. Two men I had never met before had torn into me without mercy, and now the memory of their cocks shot right through the center of me, making me ache with every moment. It was a deliciously dirty feeling, a secret one, tucked far inside me.

I turned to see him next to me. Todd. My Todd. Asleep, his face seemed so plain and human. He was unguarded, his features loose and resting for a change, and not tight on his face, reflecting whatever that went on in that sick brain of his. It was a lesson I learned early on: the “powerful” men are really the weak ones. The more armor they wear, the more fragile they are underneath.

We had come home late last night, I had begged him to fuck me. Sure, I was sore. My entire body had puffed up, swollen and raw and still buzzing, but I was certain the second he inched into me, some strange inner workings would wake me up again and my body would recognize him. And in the darkness, finally alone, I wanted so badly for him to just hold onto me. I wanted to come hard, with him, and for him to just let me shake, my spent body eventually shuddering limply in his arms. I begged him. I pleaded. But he kissed my forehead and told me that no, we would sleep.

Apparently, Todd had been sleep deprived too. I watched him for a moment, mesmerized by the flutter the air made as it left him, and then stretched and quietly got up, trying not to wake him. I padded over barefoot to the mirror. I looked the same as I did yesterday, I guess. I walked over to my walk in closet, quietly clicked the door closed behind me and sat down on the floor. I opened the hidden compartment and pulled out the black book. I turned to the most recent entry.

Last night I was punished. Two men took turns with me, and I did as they told me, and they fucked me everywhere. Todd watched, to make sure that they did it right. They both came on my face and left. I cried out and came many, many times, because I love cock and can never get enough. But I have to be disciplined further. I will leave that to Todd. He knows what I need. I love him. Ten out of ten.

I stared at the words for a long time. When did he even have the opportunity to write them? I had been checking these pages obsessively. He must have done it last night. My fingers stroked over the rough paper. I love him. Why had he put that in there?

And did it matter? I read the entry again and again and it occurred to me: all of it was true. It’s not what I would have written myself but …did I mind? Didn’t I love him? Wasn’t it true that I couldn’t get enough cock? I shut he book, put it away and leaned against the wardrobe door. I could sleep for three days straight if I really trusted that Todd to “know what I need”.

When I walked back into the main bedroom, he was sitting upright in bed, staring at nothing. His face was soft.

“Come and lay here with me,” he said. No trace of the man who had ordered my defilement the night before. In fact, it didn’t sound like the same voice at all. I climbed into the covers and snuggled next to him. He smelt of sleep and warmth and laundry detergent. Not quite the dark overlord he had seemed only a few hours ago.

“I’m taking today off as well. Will you come with me somewhere nice? I could get them to pack a picnic for us and we can head off, just the two of us.”

As he said the words, and I can’t describe it but the moment he spoke, I burst into tears. Big, hot tears fell down my cheeks. He looked at me with surprise.

“Natty …hey, Natty, look at me.”

I turned sad eyes to him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from,” I said, quickly trying to wipe away the tears. “I must look a mess right now…” He kissed my forehead and smoothed away a tear with the pad of his thumb. His face was so soft.

“I like you when you look a mess,” he said quietly, and then broke out into a grin.

I nestled back down into the covers, nuzzling against his big body.

“Is this what we do now? Am I going to be “punished” forever and ever like this? I’m so confused. I don’t know what we’re doing Todd, please just talk to me and tell me what you’re thinking.” I felt a fresh sob rising in my throat. But he cut me short and held a finger to my lips.

“No. It’s too late for talking.” He shifted his weight in the bed and laced his fingers behind his neck. “When we married, I told you that I would devote my life to making you happy. Do you remember that?”

I did.

“And that is still true. Even though you have no love for me, no respect for me, and no respect for our marriage …even though you –”

“But I do love you! I do respect you!” I blurted.

“Even though you don’t, and even though I fucking hate you right now, I still can’t go back on that promise. I made a vow,” he said.

“I’m so sorry, Todd.”

“Does that matter now?”

“I never really wanted anyone else, I only ever wanted you. We don’t have to do this. We don’t have to…”

“Well, maybe I want to now,” he said and looked down at me with wounded eyes.

“I wish we could just rewind all of this. I wish I could take it all back. I never wanted to hurt you,” I said, struggling to keep back tears. It had been so long since we had talked like this. Todd never had emotions. And he certainly never spoke about them.

“Tell me one thing,” he said. “Tell me, did you enjoy last night?”

I didn’t know what to say. They had completely ripped me apart. I was still aching in places I didn’t know a man could ever access. I had come hard, and it was intense and scary and nasty and delicious and a million other things.

“Just answer that. Did you enjoy it?”

Suddenly, it felt like the weight of the world rested on how I answered this question. His face was still naked, still open like it had been when I watched him sleep. In the years that I had known him, this was a face of his that I had seldom seen. What could I say to him? With an ache even deeper inside, so deep it went to my heart, I realized: I had vowed to make him happy, too. I took a while to answer.

“I enjoyed being yours,” I said.

We were both quiet, letting the answer hang there between us. It was true.

He kissed the top of my head again and got up. His naked body was beautiful. Hard, strong. A man’s body. My man’s body. He walked over to the dresser and picked up the black envelope. He tossed it over to the bed and I caught it.

“Open it,” he said.

I opened it. Inside were stacks of neat, fresh notes. A lot of them. Real money. It had been a real, genuine trade. The chain had been real. The ‘sale’ had been real. I took a stack out and flipped through it, releasing its new money smell.

“Fifty thousand dollars. Do you remember how, before you met me, you said you came to New York with a thousand dollars hidden in a book cover, and nowhere to live?”

I smiled. I remembered it like it was yesterday. I was younger then, braver. I had ‘hustled’. Almost half of that paycheck had gone to getting professional modelling shots done. I had just one thing to invest in, back then: my looks. The girl in those modelling shots would have considered fifty thousand a roaring success.

“You could take that now and leave me, if you wanted.”

I looked up at him.

“What?”

“It’s not much, but you could take it and get a head start. You could leave today. Take your car, go and stay with your mom, rent a flat somewhere. You’d find work soon. Together with your savings, you could just leave….”

I laughed.

“Why would I do that?”

A sad smile flitted over his face.

“Then give it back to me,” he said.

I handed him the money.

He ran his fingers over the sharp black edges.

“When I married you, I told you that money meant nothing to me, do you remember that?” he asked.

I nodded.

Why was he so obsessed about when we first met? He went to a drawer in the other dresser and pulled out a cigar box, and from this he took out a lighter. He snapped the lighter and watched the thin yellow flame lick and dance in his hands. Then, he held one stack of notes to the flame and watched it curl over the fresh paper. It ignited and suddenly the flame was larger, burning the edge of the stack of notes. I watched spellbound.

“You’re …you’re going to burn it?” I asked.

“All of it” he said.

I got out of bed. I brought over a small waste basket and positioned it under the burning money. Taking another wad of cash from the envelope, I pressed it to his and watched as the fire leapt from his money to mine. They both glowed yellow and hot as the money crumbled and turned to ash before our eyes. We smiled at one another.

We burnt all fifty thousand dollars. Him and me, together.

Perhaps you’ll think I’m sick. Maybe you’ll say I’m spoilt. What privilege, huh? To hold all that money in your hands and burn it, literally, for thrills. But I didn’t care. Without doubt it was the most romantic moment of my life.

We sat there, in the room, slowly passing every last note through the flame, watching it wither and crisp away to nothing, catching the ash in the waste basket. He was right. It was far too late for words now. Things were broken. Badly broken. But we had made vows. And like I had written in my diary: I loved him.

When every last dollar was burned to smithereens, we laughed and dressed and went outside for a picnic.

Chapter 14 - Natasha

Tomorrow, Todd is taking me to a very exclusive and very exciting private sex party!!! I can’t wait to show off to everyone there, and prove to him just what a good little slut I can be. But he’s hardly told me anything about this party yet, so it’s all a mystery still.

All I know so far is that I have a brand new outfit to wear there, and that there will be plenty of other people, too. Todd is really excited about this one, because it’s difficult to get invited to these events, and only very, very special people and their very, very special sex slaves get invited, so I’m trying to be on my best behavior.

Hmm. I was beginning to sound distinctly girly. Like a little baby. I’ve always considered myself a vixen type, more of a sex bomb than a sex kitten. And even a girl who never finished High School knows it’s tacky to use that many exclamation points in a row but …why not? Whenever I got to thinking carefully about what the hell it was we were doing, I found myself stopping short and deciding: Todd knew best. I’d just leave everything to him.

I turned over onto my belly so the sun could tan my back and legs. It was a strange day – full of heat if not actual sunshine, a little overcast, with the kind of clouds that skit fast across the sky, and you’re never quite sure what’s underneath them.

“Pablo? Pablo come over here a second,” I said, and wiggled my toes. They were still a little wet from the dip I had just taken. When I was completely dry, it would be time for another dip.

Pablo was leaning against the pole of a long pool brush, scraping the far end with long, muscular strokes, and he stopped and peered at me, shielding his eyes from the sun. Damn, he was a good looking boy. He sidled over, and I could make out faint beads of sweat over his toned shoulders.

“Pablo, stop with the pool already, look how clean it is.”

“It’s so clean because I clean it, Mrs. Beckford.”

“For the millionth time, it’s Natasha.”

He sat on the deck chair opposite mine, long legs spread and propping up his strong elbows. He was built for working, clearly, and not talking. But I felt like talking to him anyway.

“Pablo, life is so strange,” I began.

“Tell me about it.”

I felt my breasts pressing warm down into the deck chair. These days, my entire body felt so alive all the time. It was as though my nerve endings, treated to a regular barrage of orgasms, had become sensitive to everything. True, none of those orgasms were directly linked to Todd, but a girl shouldn’t be too picky I guess. Everything felt like a caress to me – the slip of the water, the way the deck chair became a rough tongue stroking the length of my bare stomach. All of it.

“I haven’t been myself lately Pablo.”

He smiled and looked embarrassed.

“You haven’t propositioned me for like a month,” he laughed.

“Really? That long? Huh. I hadn’t noticed.”

“Just look how clean the pool is,” he said.

I laughed.

“I’m turning over a new leaf in life, Pablo. I’m serious. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I think I’m finally maturing. Isn’t that weird?”

He shrugged.

I didn’t pay him nearly enough to play therapist, it’s true, but a couch was a couch, and he could hear me out, couldn’t he? Pablo and I went way back, after all.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I hadn’t really told anyone about any of the crazy things that had been happening between Todd and I. Even the girls had lost interest as I kept more and more details from them. How could they understand, when I barely understood it myself?

“It’s not weird. We all grow up, Mrs. Beckford. I mean, Natasha.”

I took another deep breath.

“Pablo, have you ever been cheated on before?”

“Cheated on? Oh yes. My old girlfriend in Spain. She had a thing with her ex…”

“And? What did you think of that?”

“What did I think?”

“Well, did it make you unhappy?”

He laughed. “Of course! I wanted to kill him.”

“So you were really angry?”

“Of course I was angry, what else would I be?”

I raised myself up onto my elbows.

“I don’t know …proud?”

He laughed again.

“You’re crazy Mrs. Beckford.”

“So it didn’t turn you on, even a little?” I said. He squirmed a bit, then looked at me directly. I was so used to staring at his rock hard abs that I was taken aback by how pretty his eyes actually were. And such long eyelashes.

“No, it didn’t turn me on. It broke my heart,” he said seriously.

I flopped back down on my belly.

“Well, fine. But some men do like that kind of thing,” I said.

“Those men are crazy.”

I mean, it wasn’t a bad way to look at the world. Crazy and non-crazy. That’s all. The answer to all my life’s current dilemmas was simple: it was all just in the crazy category.

“Are they though? I mean, don’t you like to see your girlfriend happy?”

“Sure.”

“So then does it matter if some other man makes her happy…?”

He frowned and shook his head.

“Nah. If I’m with a woman, she’s mine. I don’t cheat, and she shouldn’t cheat either. Simple.”

It didn’t seem so simple in my head.

“Tonight I’m going to a party, Pablo. Like, a sex party.”

“Oh?”

“I’m going to have sex with lots of people there,” I said, matter-of-factly.

He was silent for a while and then smiled. “You always were like that, Mrs. Beckford.”

“But I’m going with Todd,” I said. “And it’s Natasha.”

He looked at me with an amused look on his face.

“Ok, I get it. You and Mr. Beckford…”

“Yes, we’ve been trying some …new things.”

“Cool,” he said, and cast his eyes over the gently rippled surface of the pool.

A month ago, I would have ordered him to take those ridiculous shorts off and work for the money my husband paid him. But right now, I was just happy to have someone to talk to. To confess to. Pablo was my friend, in that weird way that people like me make friends.

“So, he doesn’t mind you sleeping with other people? I guess it’s not cheating if everyone knows,” he said decisively.

“Yeah. It’s not that he doesn’t mind though. I think …I think he actually likes it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

With his broad, strong body, it was easy to forget how young Pablo was. He had always taken my advances with a mixture of glee and disbelief. I knew he had placed me firmly in the ‘crazy’ bin. But maybe that’s what made him so easy to talk to? I don’t know.

“Well, lucky you. Sounds like you get everything you want!”

I turned over again onto my back and gave him a generous view of my breasts.

“Well …it’s not that simple.”

“It isn’t?”

“No. You see, I was cheating. And he caught me, and he was mad. Of course he was mad. But then he …decided I needed to be punished.”

I searched his face. “He’s punishing me by making me do all these degrading things. Like sleep with other men. In front of him.”

“That sounds pretty kinky.”

“I know, right? So he tells me what to do and I do it.”

“Cool.”

“You think I’m crazy.”

“Yeah.”

“The thing is I like it, Pablo. I like how fucked up it all is.”

“It’s pretty fucked up, Mrs. Beckford.”

“Natasha. And I know. He says I can walk away any time. But I don’t. Why don’t I?”

“Because you’re crazy?”

“Yes. Because I’m fucking crazy. So tonight he wants me to go to this party. And I don’t want to. But then again I do, you know?”

“Not really,” he laughed, then leaned back on his chair. “So, like, what kind of things will you do at this party…?” he asked, boyish smile on his face.

I returned the smile.

“I don’t know. It’s all up to him. I just have to obey. Just like a sex slave.”

“That’s kind of hot.”

“I know.”

He scooted forward on his chair and extended his hand to stroke the curve of my midriff. My skin bristled into goosebumps, chill even under the warm sun. Pablo was built like a Roman statue, only harder and more tanned. His fingers could always send electricity through me with just the lightest touch.

“So you like it, just being his sex slave, doing whatever he wants you to?” he said softly, his voice a low growl.

I threw my arm over my face, shut my eyes and enjoyed the sun and his bare fingers on my skin. He leaned forward and grazed his lips against mine, lingering just long enough to give me a little flick of his tongue. He was a good kisser. But all I could think about was Todd.

“Mmmm …not now, Pablo” I said, my arm still draped over my eyes.

“Why not? Don’t you miss it…?”

I did. Pablo’s cock was a monument. Thick and uncut, it used to be one of my favorite ways to spend hot, quiet afternoons just like this one. I would stretch my limbs and swim laps and tan, and then he would stretch me on the inside, and we’d have a long, slow, lazy fuck, and then I’d dip back into the pool to cool off.

But Todd’s face was all I could think of. Pablo leaned in for another kiss, and I kissed back, feeling a stirring in my bikini bottoms, and my nipples gathering to a sharp point. I pulled back.

“Take off your bikini,” he said. “I’ll fuck you right here. Like we used to.”

But something strange was happening. It felt wrong. After all, it would be cheating. I couldn’t do that to him.

“Take it off,” he said, and his kisses were now travelling down my ribcage as his fingertips played at the edge of the bikini.

“No,” I said. “Only he tells me what to do.”

He looked at me, hand still poised, then pulled back and frowned. It was a surprising thing to say. He shrugged and held up his hands, then went to sit back on his deck chair again.

“Pablo, I’m sorry.” He didn’t seem offended really, just confused. I was confused, too.

“No problem, Mrs. Beckford. I understand.”

“You do? You’re not angry?”

He laughed.

“No, not angry. It’s kind of sexy. I think I understand now. Don’t worry about it,” he said, and stood up.

“Pablo, you’re crazy” I said.

“You’re crazy.”

Chapter 15 - Todd

I knew she had already read the latest entry. By now I was learning how to read her, and how her mood lifted a little just after she would discover some new message from me. She was gigglier, and sillier, and tried hard to pretend that she wasn’t either. I liked the buildup. The anticipation.

I had already bought her the perfect outfit for the evening – a tight, purple sheath with tassels on the lower edge and a weird tiny hat that the shop assistant swore blind to me was called a ‘fascinator’. When I had left her this morning, she was still sleeping (she slept so much these days!) and I left the outfit ready for her in her closet, where she’d see it.

I gymed hard for an hour at the office gym and then freshened up, changed into a suit and tie, had the driver collect me directly, then headed to the house to pick her up. When she stepped into the back seat with me, I could immediately smell the chlorine on her skin. She swam so much, my little water baby, that there always seemed to be a permanent fresh smell of pool water on her. On top of that smell was lashings of expensive perfume, and the smell of hairspray, but underneath she was my Natty, never more beautiful than when she was naked, everything other than her beautiful, silken skin just a cheap substitute.

The purple dress looked good on her. Her tight, girlish figure flowed through the lines of the dress perfectly, and I had to hand it to her, she had found a way to nestle the “fascinator” into her great towering bouffant in a way I would never have thought to do. She was beautiful. As she settled herself into the seat next to me and the driver pulled off, my hand instinctively went to her leg. I felt warm inside.

“Are you happy?” I asked her. “Do you need anything?”

In a sense, this is the only question I had ever asked of her, and the only one I had ever wanted her to answer.

“I’m good. Excited. Where are we going…?”

“You’ll see.”

I liked seeing her excited. It gave me a lump in my throat. And a lump elsewhere. I looked over her with appreciation, and she held out her hands, giggling and showing off a little.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world,” I said. “You’ll be the most beautiful woman there.”

She looked at me and I could see her eyes were damp.

“What’s wrong? Is there something wrong?”

She shook her head and smiled.

“Everything’s perfect.”

We drove on and the car pulled up a long driveway and then curled round a circular entrance way, dropping us at the foot of an immense staircase winding up into a stately home, all marble balconets and ivy and gargoyles.

“Here we are,” I said, and jumped out of my side of the car. I went round to open her side, and extended my hand to escort her out and into the beautiful courtyard.

“What a gentleman!” she said and laughed. Oh, I was a gentleman. Instantly I saw the image of her beautiful face, twisted in pleasure, her shapely, delicate form pounded hard by other men as I watched on, encouraging them. And when they had had their fill of her, when everyone who wanted her had stuck their cocks in her, and she was exhausted, I would hold her and cradle her against my chest and soothe her and kiss the top of her beautiful head. My Natty.

“Yes, and what a lady,” I said, smiling mischievously and closing the door behind her. The driver slowly pulled off and we stood and surveyed the entranceway. These are the mansions and villas that no ordinary person ever gets to see. They’re the private pleasure resorts of the ultra-wealthy. The palatial playgrounds of the people even the celebrities envy. What’s sexy about an event like this is not the sex …it’s the exclusivity.

Far from prying eyes, the bankers and entrepreneurs and big names of this world gather here and pay tribute to all things carnal. It’s hard work orchestrating the vast economic and political mechanisms the rest of the species is forced to live inside, but when such a person wants to relax, they do it with the same zeal and attention to luxury that every other area of their life receives. Lesser minds have called this, “work hard, play hard.”

The massive home was lit from within and glowed golden out into the darkness of the courtyard. A few other people, all in pairs, made their way up the stairs, as we did. I offered her my arm and she took it. I was never more proud of her than I was at that moment. When I married her, I swore that whatever she needed, I was there to give it to her. I make money because it’s just what I know how to do. But she was my why. She’s what the money was for.

I am in control of so much, and I know how to earn, and to command and inspire and lead. But all the suits were for her. All the money, all the cars and jewelry, all the meals and wine and diamonds and vacations. They existed for only one reason: her happiness. I looked over at her and again admired her tight, high ass and her beautiful round breasts. She was the queen of my heart, and looked like it.

And we were here for her, too. She wanted to cheat? Let her cheat. In fact, I would help her. I had given her the best of everything. Let her take it all. What was my heart for, except to give it away to her so she could use it as she saw fit?

She was chattering excitedly as we scaled the steps, and I swear I felt her heart beating through her moist little palm and she squeezed my hand.

“Oh look! They have peacocks! How do you think they get them to stay put? Do you know what a peacock even eats? Oh my god is that whatsisname? This is amazing. Oh you can see, there’s a big central hall in the middle… are our names on a list? Will they know it’s us? Look at those peacocks, they’re sitting on the statues!”

And on and on. I smiled. Her chatter warmed me somewhere deep and long forgotten inside. The other women walking into the glorious house were as well dressed, and yes, as beautiful, but none of them had what she had: that light, shining through her. That joy. My Natty, as she was when I met her all those years ago.

At the entrance our coats were taken from us and we were ushered into a hall of unimaginable glamor. High ceilings, glittering chandeliers and a crowd equally plush and glittered mingling inside, drinks in hand. The theme was dark and velveted, and the Persians on the floor were the most remarkable I’d ever seen: instead of geometrics and flowers, the rugs were woven with intricate friezes of mythical bodies, wrapped in poses of pleasure and abandon, Gods and mythical beings, knotted like a kind of wooly Kama Sutra underfoot.

With amusement, I noticed the furniture had similar touches of the carnal: the corners and legs of the tables were carved with phalluses and tiny dancing nymphs. The mirrors were ringed with the unmistakable shapes of gilded vaginas linked in a wreath. Natasha laughed and chattered on about them, pointing as she moved excitedly around the room.

The next few hours were spent in a kind of dreamy daze. The other guests were charming, the food was elegant, and everywhere was a tightening sense of anticipation, like the air was being pulled taut. I watched on fondly as Natasha grew a little tipsy. Why had I always been so hard on her? Who cared if she didn’t always follow the protocols properly – wasn’t that why I loved her? In any case, if there was one place in the world were her gloriously irreverent childishness could run free, it was here and now.

Wait staff threaded swiftly between the guests, taking away empty plates and bringing more alcohol, and slowly the night wore on and the drapes were closed and the many candelabras lit. Most people ambled off into separate rooms. There was no question of all the things that would happen that evening, but nevertheless people took their time, flirting and laughing together.

Natasha was enjoying herself. She always had a knack for telling stories, like she was doing when I slinked up behind her and listened in on a tall tale she was telling a small crowd of people. She was so expressive, so adorably goofy and truly funny, that she had the small group of five eating out of her hand, laughing at all the right places and hanging on to every word. I’d forgotten how good she was at socializing.

I linked my arms round her waist and she touched my hands, and carried on with the story.

“And then the nurses – both of them, right at the same time – looked at him and said, who said anything about chickens?”

The crowd burst into laughter. She beamed.

“Beckford, where have you been hiding your wife all this time? Shame on you for never bringing her out to these little gatherings” said a tall, husky looking man in his mid-thirties. Arnold Pitt, a man from old European money, he made his living on all the fluffy offshoots of the various royal family trees he belonged to. We were briefly acquainted but during the last week or so, I had become more keenly aware of another side of him – he and several of his other well-heeled friends threw extravagant parties like this several times a year, where an invite was non-negotiable and those who violated the unspoken laws of secrecy were reprimanded swiftly and permanently.

He took as much pride in arranging these evenings as a classical composer, with a keen eye for hitting just the right key: lavish luxury balanced with a delightful coarseness. Or so it was explained to me. I had discussed with him several potential ways the evening could unfold, but all of that was just the pulleys and levers off stage: I wanted Natasha to see and know about none of it. I wanted to watch the wonder and surprise on her face. I wanted to see her shock. And yes, maybe a little discomfort. Or a lot, depending on how things played out.

“Mr. Beckford tells us that you’re a very adventurous girl,” said a woman in the group, taking a suggestive sip of her champagne. Natasha thought for a moment, and then answered sweetly, “Oh, I’m willing to do whatever Todd thinks I’d enjoy…” and the group murmured.

“Natasha has a very free spirit, when it comes to matters of the flesh,” I said, being deliberately dramatic. “Sometimes I need to reign her in, as she often finds herself in trouble.”

The group laughed.

“Trouble?” Pitt said. “Well, in that case, I think I have a suggestion for you.” The group watched him as he handed his empty champagne glass to a passing waiter and rubbed his hands together.

“There are some brand new items, new from France and some I’ve commissioned locally, that you might be interested in Mrs. Beckford…” he said, and as he did, some of the bow-tied waiters appeared and unlocked a large, grand door and opened it to reveal another vast room on the other side. The guests oohed and aahed – through the candlelight we all beheld a room kitted out in the most fanciful frames, dangling chairs, suspended chains, cages and cuffs that I had ever seen. A dungeon.

The ceiling was draped with heavy brocade gathered in the center, giving the feeling of being inside a giant, heavy tent, and everyone slowly trickled into the room. People spread out and examined the gleaming black tools of torture and pleasure. A woman laughed and found a whip, and playfully cracked it at the hind of her partner, who nearly spilled his champagne jumping out the way.

Natasha went quiet but her eyes were wide, and her hand clasped mine tightly as we walked around leisurely, and she examined the objects, trying to imagine what each was for.

“What do you think Mrs. Beckford? Any of these capture your interest?” said Pitt.

She colored heavily and looked to me. I smiled, and nudged her to take a closer look. She trailed her fingers over the black bars.

“What’s this one for?” she asked quietly, and gestured towards a tall, black steel frame. On the floor was a large, steel X and from each of its corners rose a sturdy steel pillar. From these pillars came thick linked chains, which were suspended between the pillars and a black, leather seat that vaguely resembled a hammock. I watched as she tried to figure it out. I didn’t need to have it explained to me - it was me, after all, who had requested it in the first place.

Various links and cuffs hung down from two of the pillars, and these she held up in her hands with a quizzical expression.

“Are these to tie up your hands?” she asked, and Pitt laughed.

“Those, my dear, are for your feet,” he said.

I watched as it dawned on her: on this wicked object, a person might lay flat on their backs in the hammock seat, have their hands tied up and away from them on either of the strong chains and then have their feet locked into place on the stirrups on the other two pillars, effectively holding them in a flat spread eagle position, legs and arms wide, exposed and hovering off the floor.

She giggled, probably imagining how perfectly wide-open and exposed a person strapped into such a sling would be.

“That’s …that’s quite something!” she said. “Let’s see what else they have…”

I wrapped my fingers round her upper arm.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

She threw me a questioning gaze at me.

“We didn’t just come here to look,” I said.

Her eyes fluttered nervously to the frame and back at me.

“Ok,” she said eventually. “What should I do?”

‘There’s a good girl,” I said, and slapped her ass.

The tone of the room was rapidly changing, and though the top hats and tiaras remained, out the corner of my eye I caught the sight of naked limbs. Naked bodies. These people were long time visitors to these parties. They knew exactly what to do.

“First, take those ridiculous heels off.”

She obediently stepped out of them, reaching out to grab my forearm to balance herself, and then kicked them off to the side.

“Now, take that little hat off as well.”

“It’s called a fascinator,” she said, and I wanted to laugh, but I gave her a stern look instead, and her shaking fingers went up to unpin the thing and gently place it to the side.

The dark party unfolded around us. The room was darkly lit, but my imagination filled in everything that was missing. Everyone was here to do one thing. And Natasha, too, was here for one reason only. A small crowd gathered around us, curious.

“Now, pull your dress up high, to your hips. Show me what you’re wearing underneath.”

She swallowed hard.

“Now? In front of …everyone?”

The gathering crowd tittered. This was perfect.

“Yes, in front of everyone. And if you talk back again I’ll make you take it all off.”

She hesitatingly pulled up the hem of her dress, revealing smooth, toned legs and a flimsy g-string underneath.

“Higher,” I barked, and she shimmied it up further.

“Good. Now, since everyone is watching, you might as well make it worth their while. Get up into the sling.”

She tiptoed over to it and steadied her hands on either of the steel chains, but I quickly grabbed her round her waist, swung her over with ease and plonked her ass down into the leather seat.

“Spread them,” I said, and pulled her legs away from her little body.

“Further” I demanded, and yanked them down more roughly, spreading them apart.

I looked out into the small crowd that had gathered and made eye contact with Pitt, who stepped up, bringing a man at his side, and they both helped me buckle her in. We stood back and admired our work. Except for the smallest bit of black fabric, her pussy was bare and exposed, facing the crowd. Once she was tied in, I leaned over and gave her a long, sweet kiss, and then unceremoniously tore the front of her dress open, releasing two pert breasts. She gasped and squirmed, but couldn’t move more than an inch from where we three had bound her.

“Going somewhere?” I laughed, and the other two laughed with me.

Men are dogs. Pack animals. They sense weakness and strike. All they need is to get the whiff of blood, to see the tiniest tear in the fabric of decency, and they attack. Tasting that hint of first violence in a fleeting moment is all the encouragement they need, and then they’ll join in on the carnage. For now, though, the men in the group were only lurking, waiting for my cue, waiting for that moment of no return. We would all gang up on her. But not just yet.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked.

And sweet fuck did she look like the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid my eyes on. At that moment, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to completely annihilate her or wrap her in a little bundle and protect her forever.

“Me? I’m not going to do anything to you, my dear,” I said, and smiled sweetly at her. Her little eyebrows quivered.

“But I’m not so sure about everyone else here…” I said, and leaned in for another kiss. Her lips were tentative and quivering, and when I pulled back again they remained wet and parted, lingering where I’d left them.

“Be a good whore for me and spread your legs. There are a lot of men here tonight…” I said, and then straightened, standing tall over her. I saw her swallow again. Saw the fear and excitement racing in her eyes. I had to breath deep to calm my own excitement.

I stepped away from the frame and out towards the crowd, which had since grown a little larger. People had clumped themselves throughout this dungeon, but by far my little whore-wife Natasha and her flimsy panties were garnering the most attention.

“Everyone, this is my wife Natasha. Her body is yours for the evening, and nothing, I repeat nothing is off limits. I hand her over to you. Do as you will with her.”

And stepped away from the frame.

Chapter 16 - Natasha

I guess that sometimes, you only know what you want when it’s forced on you.

A million things raced through my mind. Was I an idiot for agreeing to any of this? When was my real punishment going to occur? Or had this been the punishment all along, to sit and wait and dread the moment when I would finally get what I deserved? But what did I deserve? To have the humiliation of knowing that no matter how much he dominated me, I still wanted it all, and accepted it gladly?

And I thought about where the exits were in this place, and tried to remember the series of doors and corridors I had gone through to get here, and kicked myself for having so much champagne and muddying my thoughts. And I thought about the twisted, red, awful looking women I had seen only in pixels, but which now lived in my mind more vividly than anything, something terrifying because it might happen to me, and scary because, maybe, it wasn’t so bad that maybe I wanted it to.

And I looked at all the other beautiful women around me, and the good looking men and the way they stood arrogantly regarding everything in this wicked room, and I thought about how much this all must have cost, and how much the waiters were paid.

But as I pulled against the restraints and wriggled my exposed crotch to try and minimize just how much was on display, I quickly realized something: none of my thoughts mattered. Not one bit. After all, what could I do now? There was no getting out of these restraints. And if what was going to happen was going to happen no matter what, what would be the use of fighting?

I felt my own limbs go soft and loose inside the leather bands round my arms and legs, and as I did, my body opened up and made way for something else that had been waiting: pleasure. Sometimes, you only know what you want when it’s forced on you.

The chaotic thoughts dribbled away out of consciousness and soon all I could focus on was the sensation of being bound. Helpless. At the mercy of others’ will. Without wondering what I wanted and how I should get it, my mind emptied and allowed the flooding in of a new, dark surrender. His will. His desire for me. Todd took care of everything, and all that was left for me was to float back into some dark place in my mind, and forget, and feel.

And though nothing had touched me yet but the cool surface of the leather, my skin was already alive with the thrill of just feeling. As though each tiny little cell of my body was popping, each swelling in a little orgasm of its own, exploding, one microscopic suicide after another. I squeezed my eyes shut and zoomed in on the sensation of the air on my bare legs. Of the beauty of being vulnerable. I could dance on this knife edge for as long as I liked, and no matter how far I fell, Todd would be there, to catch me. To envelope me.

His voice was dry and controlled and rough: “Everyone, this is my wife Natasha. Her body is yours for the evening, and nothing, I repeat nothing is off limits. I hand her over to you. Do as you will with her.”

Big, loose shudders went through me. Nothing off limits? Nothing at all? A spark of fear was embraced and melted into excitement. Let them. Let them do exactly what they wanted with me.

I lifted my head to see two men approaching, men I hadn’t seen before. One was shirtless, muscled and well built, with a web of complicated tattoos on his shoulders and pecs. The other still had on his tailored white shirt, but the sleeves were rolled up to reveal toned, veined forearms and strong hands. I gulped and let my head fall back down again. Did it matter who exactly came for me? I would fuck every person in this room, if Todd wanted it.

Two pairs of warm, manly hands stroked my inner thighs. I moaned. Eyes closed, they were all the same hand, all the hands of one multi-armed, blue-skinned God. All Todd’s hands. They stroked teasing circles around my tightening pussy, then the puffy folds were pried aside to allow their fingers to sink into me there, almost frictionless from how wet I already was.

“Fuck, she’s so wet,” said a voice.

“God yes. Look at that little pussy,” said another.

They were the voice of everyone and no one. Men’s voices. And behind them all, Todd’s voice.

“You like that?” cooed a third, dirty sounding voice. “You fucking like that, you little slut?”

Maybe I moaned, maybe I didn’t.

A finger entered me, and then another. My hungry body stretched and swallowed them, the electric ache inside me spreading deeper in. A tongue was at my clit. All along the length of both of my legs, I felt hands. More hands than I could count, all touching me, caressing me, pulling me open so I could take more. Hands were on my feet. At my waist. I was surrounded.

Soon, I lost the ability to distinguish the sensations hitting my body. I only knew that I was hot, and that easy waves of full, delicious pleasure were beginning to peak and roll inside me. Instinctively, my hips rose and fell off the leather of the swing, and I pulsed and lifted my body in time with the waves that pulsed through me. The hands and fingers and tongues followed, stroking me to a slow, gorgeous frenzy.

Hot breath close to my face made me open my eyes. The broad, strong face of a man was before me, smiling darkly, his lips parted as though he was about to eat me. Somewhere off to the distance, the sound of primal electronic music blurred the edges of moans and cries from others in here with me. But those women were a universe away from me now. All that I could feel now was my own aching clit and the almost painful throbs of pleasure beaming out from it.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he said, eyeing me intently. “You like this?”

I smiled at him and shut my eyes again, and felt his lips fall onto my collarbone and neck as he kissed me, groaning with approval.

“All these men are going to fuck you,” he said. “Every single one of them. Do you think your dirty little cunt can take all of that?” he said, and I lifted my hips again, groaning against the weight of him against me.

They would gang up on me and fuck me till …till what? Till I came? Till I passed out? Till I told them to? No, they would fuck me until they were done with me, and I would lay there and be their little slut until each and every one of them was satisfied.

He kissed his way down my flanks and landed again at my clit, where the other two were still finger fucking me. In my restraints, I managed to lean down into it further, and they muttered and laughed at this together.

“Good little whore,” said a voice.

In went another finger, and maybe another – I was so hot and swollen it could have been anything, all I knew is that it felt good, and I wanted more. Shivering waves of pleasure jolted through me as their masculine fingers buried their way deep inside, right into the warm, liquid parts of me.

“I’m going to come…” I mumbled, to nobody in particular.

Someone slapped my ass, hard. The sting made my eyes shoot open and I saw them all at once, standing frozen around me and smirking mischievously at my helpless body.

“Don’t you dare come yet, bitch,” said one. They were mean. They were bad boys. They were the schoolyard bullies, the group of rough older brothers who wouldn’t play nice. I fucking loved it.

My hips quivered as I focused hard to catch the tail end of my orgasm, then I breathed deeply and relaxed again, staring at them submissively.

“There’s a good girl. Don’t you fucking go anywhere …we’re just getting started.”

For a moment I saw myself suspended there, a lone female figure, naked and with the most vulnerable, pink folds of my body well-exposed. My well-worn pussy was as hungry as ever. A man in the group yanked a belt from his trouser loops and tossed it aside, then unzipped and dropped everything to the floor, revealing a short, fat cock that was angry-red and pointing right at me.

A sick little thrill ran through me. He didn’t speak a word, didn’t look at me, just calmly pushed the others aside and positioned himself in front of me, dick poised and touching slightly on my bald little mound.

“Well well well, Carl is going to break you in baby, sucks to be you,” laughed a guy to my left, and I had to admit I thought the same. Him? With that monstrous cock?

Even though I was already spread to the max, he still roughly shoved my thighs out of the way and banged his hips into mine, stroking the thick shaft against my swollen clit. Dipping his head into the pool of wetness there, he pulled it out again, and a thread of moisture clung to the tip. He guided himself slowly inside and all at once my body stung and stretched around him. He pressed further in, every inch of him another exquisite inch opened inside me and sparked and twitched around his heft.

By the time the full length of it had disappeared into me, and I could feel the bulb of the head pressing me open deep inside, small cheers came from the crowd. He pulled back and pumped into me again, hard, grunting as he did, and soon he was pounding into me like an animal.

It was brutal, depraved fucking. The kind of fucking strangers do. He reached down and clutched my thighs, and the muscles there ached under his grasp, but I didn’t care. The smooth, thick, gooey sensations he was stroking into my belly were so perfect I didn’t dare care what else happened to me then.

I had died and gone to hell, and a demon was ravishing me now, and I didn’t care for what happened to my mortal soul so as long as never stopped that heavy, glorious fucking. I was soon close to coming again, this time I was more excited than ever, and I could actually feel something twitch and quiver in me as I held on for dear life.

“Did I say you could fucking come?” said the brute on top of me. I squealed out loud and they all laughed at my distress.

“Wait…” he said, voice deep and nasty.

“Just wait…” and he slid the full length in and pressed even deeper, deeper in than I thought possible, finding some hidden pocket inside me that expanded gratefully all around his brutal dick, and he leaned forward, grasped my shoulders and pulled my body down onto his even further, and he went in deeper still, so deep it fucking hurt, and then in that same gruff, mean voice he said, “Come now, bitch. I want to feel you come” and no sooner had the last syllable escaped his lips had I exploded all around him, my body jerking violently, pinned on the four corners and stabbed right in the middle by his great, merciless cock.

I cried out and bucked out of the sling, nearly giving myself whiplash, and he held me down, with the weight of his cock alone, his meaty tool, and I had no choice but to convulse and ripple around it, my body already stretched to the limit.

“Oh fuck…” I cried out from somewhere inside my throat, and a hand instantly went to my throat and clutched my chin tightly.

“What’s that? That’s some fucking dirty language for such a nice young lady” said a voice off to my side.

“I said oh fuck!” I whimpered through clenched teeth as the orgasm kept beating through me, relentless. The same hand slapped my face hard and I gasped and drew back. It hurt. But it didn’t. The stinging only merged in with the torrent of other sensations pumping through my overwhelmed body, and became one with it, and I opened up and accepted it all.

When the fat cock wedged in me pulled out, it was as though a great suction was released and my body felt momentarily empty without it. I felt how much he had truly opened me, and how much more naked I felt now. Thin filaments of pain washed all through me, but they blended together to form a fabric of unspeakable pleasure, one that wrapped me from head to toe.

“This little bitch fucking loves it, just look at her. Well, honey, that was just the warm up. I hope you’re ready for more,” said another voice off to the side. I smiled and shut my eyes, bracing internally for more.

“Do your worst,” I muttered, and the groans from the group told me that my challenge was more than accepted. The large man between my legs moved aside and made way for another man. I was positioned purely for their pleasure, strung up at hip height like a piece of meat, open and free to use for whoever wanted me, and looking out into the sea of hard bodies and tense biceps and yes, cocks, I felt a flutter of delicious panic.

I gathered myself and turned my head to find Todd. He had orchestrated all of this. He had known, long before I did, that this is what I wanted, and more than that, needed, and in a sense he was there all along, in every squeeze and pinch and lick. But I wanted to see his face. I wanted to look deep into it, while I was getting fucked, and to feel his look of approval all over my slutty, ruined body. Did he see me? Did he see what he had done to me?

“Todd…?”

“I’m here, Natty,” he said, instantly. His voice was a lighthouse beam in a sea of chaos. All around it, everything thrummed and pulsed, but his voice was clean, bright and solid. It calmed me instantly. He was positioned behind me, kneeling probably, and now rose up a little to caress my neck and whisper into my ear, a secret between us both. He snaked soothing arms up and down mine, but I still couldn’t see his handsome face. Just hear him.

“Todd are you there?” I asked. I was penetrated again. I could hear the smile on his voice as he said, “Yes. I’m here. Always.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and felt a new dick shove its way into me, my still twitching pussy melting warm around it with no resistance. Almost immediately, I felt myself stir up to the edge of another orgasm. It was incredible.

“Oh god, I’m going to come again,” I mumbled, and the group chuckled at my surprise. The man now between my legs had only managed a few spirited thrusts and when he felt my body pucker up and clench into a new orgasm, he smiled and fucked harder, in a race to catch me before I crumbled into a hot heap all over again.

I came while he was still pumping away viciously, and with each stab he stroked long and deep and pulled the edges of my orgasm, lengthening it into one slow, sticky mess.

“Do you like that?” I heard Todd’s voice say. I could barely speak.

“Tell me. Tell me what you feel” he said, his voice urgent and secret in my ear.

“I feel …Oh God Todd it’s too much. It’s so deep…” I managed to blurt out, just at the moment I realized a third man was now preparing to fuck me, positioning his rod in front of my exhausted pussy and gearing up to take his turn.

“It’s deep? It’s really deep in you?” came his voice.

“Mmmm,” was all I could say.

“You like it that deep?”

“Oh god yes!”

“Good. That’s good. Tell me everything you feel…”

“It feels so good Todd…” I whimpered, “it’s so, so good…”

He kissed me tenderly on the neck. Dainty, fairy-light kisses on my electrified skin.

I was getting fucked again. Hard. I was warm and loose and completely opened, and the men had no more finesse in their movements. What was left was only pure, raw, animal fucking, and they took full advantage of the fact that I wasn’t going anywhere. Every cock that punctured my little body opened me further, hollowing out my thankful body and leaving me a wet, sweaty, pleasure addled mess. I felt myself sticking to the leather seat. I didn’t care. Another man took his turn. Then another.

Some of them came inside me, and I felt the hot, gooey strings of their cum dribble out of me, over the swell of my ass cheeks and straight to the floor. All my bodily resistance melted away and the more they fucked, the more I melted and became their plaything. And then another would take a turn with me. And another. I moaned and thrashed my head from side to side.

“I fucking love seeing you like this,” Todd said. He voice was my home. A blanket to cover me, even though I was almost entirely naked, and realized for the first time that my dress had been ripped off me somehow, and my g-string was nothing more than a twisted, stretched out piece of string torn in half and hanging on by a thread round my middle. When did that happen?

The rest of the night melted away into a hot, wet blur. I can’t say the point at which I lost myself completely, but it was sometime around my sixth or seventh orgasm that my grip on reality began to loosen and I started to slip and fall, and where I landed was a vast, glorious place where I was in permanent, pulsing orgasm, from the top of my head to the tips of my sweat drenched toes.

There were two points to anchor against: my burning clit and the sound of Todd’s beautiful, strong voice through the clamor of my own pleasure. I hooked myself against his calm words, shut my eyes and gave into it all, letting the intensity wash through and over me.

They fucked my ass, too, and opened me up swiftly and thoroughly there, and then I was penetrated over and over again, by a never-ending string of men who never seemed to tire. No sooner had I come, did my body stir up again and start with another orgasm, every one wracking me more deeply than the one before, shaking me loose on deeper and deeper levels, till it felt like my spine itself was climaxing, sending pulses from my clit right to the top of my skull.

More things happened that night. Many more things. But it grew late, and all of us, in time, grew quiet, and stopped speaking. But we didn’t stop fucking. We gave way to wordless, rough, animal grunts, and the night became a vulgar ballet of hot, tormented bodies. It hurt. Oh fuck did it hurt. Every part of me ached and burned. But it was so, so beautiful. I serviced all of them, one after the other. And Todd watched me. Through it all, he saw me, and held me, and whispered in my ear and guided me through it all.

When I was completely spent and sore, sure I couldn’t handle any more, I began to beg him.

“I want you, Todd” I moaned, but he just whispered shhhh into my ear and stroked down my damp hair, staying behind me and just out of my sight.

“Did I ask you what you wanted?” he said quietly.

“But Todd …please…” I begged. It felt as though I had had every man in the room, and yet there was only man I really wanted. I had orgasmed more times than I could count. My legs were sticky to the knees with how many times I had come, over and over again on other men’s cocks, but there was still something deep inside me that only he could reach.

“This is what you wanted, Natasha. Now this is what you get,” he said. The words were vicious, but the delivery was sweet and concerned, and he kept stroking my brow.

“I want you,” I said with more force.

“How bad do you want me?”

“So bad, Todd. Just you. I just need you to fuck me now, please…”

“How does it feel?”

I tried to twist and look into his eyes, but I couldn’t. He could see me. He could see me in all my broken glory, every part of me, but I couldn’t see him at all. I laughed.

“It feels like torture!” I said and tried to squirm the other side to just catch a glimpse of his face. His smile.

“Good. Now that feeling you have inside you? That wanting?”

“Yes…?”

In an instant he grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked back sharply, exposing my neck and pulling me down closer to his suddenly threatening voice.

“Then never, ever fucking forget it,” he spat.

Chapter 17 - Natasha

Love is a funny thing. They say you find it when you least expect it. And you find it where you least expect it, too.

I haven’t worked a job since I was 19 years old and swapping shifts with other 19 year olds at the local Dairy Queen. But in a way, I had been working every single day since I married Todd. It used to be that nothing was ever good enough. And it was my job to put it right. Wear makeup, but not too much. Look good. Smile. Walk like a lady. Be demure, but not boring. Be sexy without being slutty.

Well, I always fell way, way on the wrong side of things. I spoke too loudly, in an accent that was embarrassing, saying things that people found offensive. I guess you could say I was a victim of my own success: I had finally found the limits of my own bluffing. I was finally married to a man that saw past my implants and lip gloss and Bambi-in-heels walk.

But now he had beautiful women around him all day long. He could afford any damn thing he wanted, in any color. I had to work to keep his attention. And it was hard work. And I was tired. So tired that I had just wanted some dirty college kid to swoon at the idea of fucking me an alleyway for once. To screw a man who earned in a year what it cost me keep my Chihuahuas in Gucci. At least that was easy. That was something a trashy girl like myself could be an expert in, if nothing else.

I can’t explain it. It doesn’t make much sense. But slowly, I had been getting tired of that kind of work. Of pretending.

But now there was the diary.

Every day that I woke up, the only thing on my mind was the diary: what had been written in there? What was up next for me?

After a while, I even stopped thinking that he was the one writing everything, and began to feel as though every time I read “I”, it actually was me. I found myself agreeing with the ratings. The reflections and thoughts and anecdotes in those pages became my own. Why not? Todd knew me better than anyone else, it turned out. Or, at least, it was amazing to let go for once and imagine that he did…

Some days there was no entry. Those days I skinny dipped in the pool, or lunched with the girls, or ran errands. Or he would stay home and we would go somewhere nice, and talk and talk. He was gentle and cautious. He put his hand on my knee when we went out driving …and he’d ask my permission first.

And then I’d peer into the book later that evening and find an entry.

Those entries were …dark. It was as though, with a special place for him to put all that down somewhere, hidden in a secret drawer under my lingerie, he could be free to just be sweet with me outside of it. By keeping certain things between the dark pages of that black book, it seemed so much easier to just get ice cream and walk hand in hand on the beach. Or snuggle together and watch a movie.

We could play and relax and let go …because whatever happened, we’d get to the black book stuff eventually. I could be girlish and unguarded because I knew that something was planned for me. That he had carefully arranged it all for me, and all I had to do was go along with it. Hell, I didn’t even have to say yes. It was because the other men hurt me and fucked me and degraded me …that he didn’t have to. Todd took everything out of my hands, including the chore of deciding whether I even wanted something or not. Do you know what a relief that is?

I would open the book and discover, for example, that I was keenly anticipating another meeting with Adam and Daniel the following evening. Or that I was planning for a surprise Todd was arranging, one where I’d be suspended in a cage, naked, and forced to dance for the amusement of a very exclusive, very expensive gentlemen’s club dinner happening below. Or that Todd had chosen a particularly well known Dom in the area to publicly flog me, but for a price.

Today, I just knew, don’t ask me how but I just knew that there would be entry in the book. Eventually, why not hand all of that over to Todd completely? He could decide exactly what I needed, right down to the last molecule of my body, and he’d know with split second precision when I’d need it, and how.

Why not? He wasn’t a successful businessman for nothing. He was intelligent. An incredibly skilled, competent man. Cruel, sure. A little crazy, absolutely. Violent, oh god yes. But why shouldn’t I imagine that he also had some secret insight into my heart? That he had special knowledge about me, and how my body liked to be touched, and all the ways to tell I was about to come, and just how rough I liked it, and what names I wanted to be called, and even deeper than that, like what was in my sad, trailer trash dump of a soul?

I was sleeping deeply these days. Waking up late, swimming.

I toweled off, casually examined the hedges and flowers ringing the Jacuzzi and then went inside. I knew he had left an entry for me. I was just savoring it. No rush. There were many, many more pages in the book and the pages in Todd’s mind were infinite. There was no end to the things he would have me do, and one way or another, there was something delicious and dirty and hot in my future. So why rush?

I took my time applying my makeup, then lingered on anointing myself with scent and then picking out a good outfit for the day. I went for a silvery sundress, some strappy heels and a wide belt that from some angles looked like a slender corset. I had a long Hello Kitty pendant necklace nestled between my two pillowy tits, along with some pearls, a pink velvet choker and a ring that was solid platinum but topped with a fuzzy pink pompom, just like the kind the girls in my class used to have on their pencils. The kind I could never afford. I admired myself for ages in the mirror.

Pleased with the general effect, I lazily walked over to the closet, and knelt down to get the black book. The touch of the paper on my skin was, in my mind, blended with the touch of his skin. Turning the pages instantly gave me goosebumps, in other words. I turned to the latest entry.

Todd is teaching me so much. I love him. I’m so grateful that he is helping me, and showing me just exactly how to be the perfect sex slave, the perfect whore for him. I’m so glad I have him to look out for me, and to discipline me. But still, I have a lot to learn.

Tomorrow, he has arranged for me to do a special video shoot. Todd has told some porn producers that even though I’m the pretty wife of a successful billionaire hedge fund manager, deep down I’m just a little cum slut. And what I want more than anything in the world is to be filmed doing very, very dirty things with very bad men on camera, so that everyone can see me.

Todd thinks it would be better if we just made our own home movie together, but I insisted, and kept pushing him: I want the world to see me getting taken by some dirty porn stars, and I won’t be happy until I get what I want. We compromised and I said I would wear a mask then. I’ve kept it hidden at the top of my dresser for now. I hope he likes it.

I sprang to my feet and went to examine the top of the dresser. Tucked away was an extravagant, slightly scary looking porcelain mask. White and purple, with ribbons on the side and tiny gold rope designs painted over it, it looked like something you’d wear to the carnival in Venice. Attached to the top were two happy looking orange ostrich feathers, but the eyes were hollow and the face kind of dead and scary looking. I hated it.

I tossed it on the bed and paced around a little, trying to think.

This was a new feeling for me. Was I sacred? I wasn’t sure. Todd knew I had always felt weird about porn. Maybe you’ll think I’m nuts, what with everything I’ve told you so far, but it’s the truth: I find porn kind of horrible. And not in a good way.

I went back to the book and read the entry over and over again. Sex slave. Cum slut. Very bad men. Sure, it was hot. It certainly wasn’t that different from what we’d already done. Already said.

But something was also different. This was a longer entry than usual, for one. And the way it was written …I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was kind of irritating. Did he really think of me as his sex slave, for fuck’s sake? I mean, yes, of course he did. That was kind of the point. But wasn’t it just a game, so far? In the mornings when he held me and nibbled my ears and asked if he could take me out somewhere nice …that’s’ not how you treat a sex slave, right? I mean, a real sex slave.

I suddenly felt sick. Sitting down next to that thing didn’t help either. I’m no idiot. I knew what I was doing. I hurt him. I know I did. And I owed it to him now to work it out on his side, in whatever sick ways he wanted to. But he loved me, at the end of everything. Didn’t he?

I looked over at the mask, and it was just staring up at the ceiling. Like a robot with no feelings. Like Todd. And it was what I needed to be, tomorrow, when the “very bad men” turned up. I had to be blank. Pretty, but empty. No expression except whatever I was hiding on the inside. I gingerly took it in my hands and lifted it to my face, pressing its hollow features against my own. It was claustrophobic. Immediately, I felt like crying.

I flung it back on the bed. Just calm down, Natty. Just relax.

I went back to the book and read it a third time, and a fourth. Over and over again, looking for …I don’t know what. It was different.

On a whim, I closed the closet door and went into the hall. His bedroom. There would be something in there, surely? I marched down the passageway, flung open the big doors and looked at his immaculate bedroom. He hadn’t sleep in here for weeks, not since everything changed, but even if he had been sleeping in here, it was late enough that he would be at work, the maids already whisking the place back into shape and making it look hotel-room perfect again.

I looked in the side drawers. Nothing. Under the bed. Nothing. Fine, I would have to look in his closet then. I flipped through his suits, opened a few shoe boxes and combed through every last drawer. Nothing.

Just so you know, rich people frequently sleep in separate rooms, so don’t judge me about that. If you could, wouldn’t you? This house is big enough, honestly, for three rooms for us each with some to spare, but nevermind. And in case you were wondering another thing: I didn’t feel bad about snooping. After all, didn’t he do it to me, regularly? Isn’t that just how things were for us now?

I looked everywhere in the en suite bathroom. Nothing. Feeling a little deflated, and still not able to shake that weird feeling of that creepy mask looking at me, I flopped down on the bed and tried to think for a second. And then I saw it. The thing I was looking for. I hadn’t realized it until I saw it there, tucked elaborately into the lamp shade, but it was definitely what I wanted, when I came in here sort-of-snooping.

I pried it loose. A diary. His diary.

Why had I never considered it before, that he might also have his secrets? I frowned and looked at it: no bigger that my outstretched hand, covered in soft moleskin that looked raw and crinkled along the same line in the front where it was bent open again and again. I opened it.

For a second, I forgot that this handwriting wasn’t, in fact, my own. It was the same sharp, masculine hand that now filled the pages of my diary, but even without reading I could tell that this was something different entirely. Todd had written this. When? Why?

God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another.

I stared at these words on the first page, confused. I flipped the page and then saw some unintelligible sums – simple additions of small amounts, but without a dollar sign, I couldn’t be sure it was money they were referring to.

There were also what looked like passwords, and maybe usernames? Just strings of numbers, and some random letters. My eyes stuck on “NAT999”. What was this shit?

I turned the page.

As I read, it felt like the heat from the bulb was growing stronger somehow. Either that or this book had broken me out into a sweat. These were Todd’s secrets, but I couldn’t quite decipher them yet. As I had done so many times these last few weeks, I flipped through to the final entry.

It’s done. The stage is set. On the 5^th March, it’ll all be over.

I dropped the diary like it was poisonous.

Today was March 4^th.

Chapter 18 - Todd

Making your money in porn was certainly one way to go about things, I had to give him that.

Michael Barker was smaller in person than I imagined, but certainly no different than any of the men I worked with on a daily basis. Money is always money. Sex is sex. And people, sadly, are always people.

Personally, I’ve never seen the appeal of watching it. The women all seem cheap and disinterested. And there’s just something so inherently deceptive about the whole thing. But mine was a minority opinion, clearly. Michael Barker had made millions peddling this crap, and that was something I could respect.

What I was having a little trouble with was how shitty his offices were. We sat in some dingy back room with computers set up at each of three corners on leaning IKEA tables, cables all a mess and the printer sitting on the floor. On one wall was a giant block mounted shot of some woman I didn’t recognize, laughing and licking the tip of a bronze award statue. The quintessential casting couch, I’m sorry to report, was actually a fold out futon with a few slats broken on the bottom. Michael Barker might have been making a killing, but he obviously didn’t like to waste a cent on the non-essentials.

“You want a drink?” he said, offering me a small shot glass.

I waved him off. I shudder to think where those shot glasses had been.

“Hey, no need for formalities here, I understand you’re a finance man, well, then let’s talk money,” he said and smiled broadly. He came to sit beside me on the sagging futon. It was something the guys at the office would have hosed themselves to see. Pity all of this had to be kept a mortal secret.

“Well, like I mentioned, money’s no object here,” I said, trying to sit as upright as I could. From the room next door, I heard the unmistakable sound of a woman moaning.

“Are you…?”

“Filming? Yes. Our busy times are in the mornings. The light’s just better.”

Ah, the smut merchant, dealing in darkness, talking about the quality of the light.

“But don’t worry, nobody will come back here, it’s just you and I. One hundred percent discretion guaranteed,” he said and winked at me. I felt dirty.

“Aw, come on man, I’m playing. You’d be surprised how often I have to arrange these sorts of things, honestly. Relax.”

I smiled coldly at him and reached for my briefcase, handing him a pile of documents.

“I had my lawyer look over them. They’ve been signed. You should find everything in there,” I said, and clicked the latch of the briefcase closed.

“Thanks.” He put them on the desk behind him.

The moaning in the next room was getting louder. Unmistakable.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

“That’s Ocean’s 11 Inches …Bunny Jones. You’d be surprised how much we make off parodies,” he said, chuckling.

I laughed.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. American Booty. Gulp Fiction. Gangbangs of New York. After, uh, ‘private requests’ like yours, most of our revenue comes from parodies.”

“Charming.”

“You wanna watch?” he said, placing his empty glass on the table.

“Not really my thing.”

He looked at me quizzically, something strange in his expression, then shrugged and poured himself another.

“Cool, I get that. Can I ask you something though?”

“Sure.”

“Why not just use my cameramen? No offense here, but they’ll have better equipment…”

“It’s outlined in the contract I just gave you. My cameramen. We discussed this.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that. Just curious about why.”

I took a deep breath and immediately she sprung into my mind. The moans of the woman next door could almost, nearly, if I tried hard enough, be hers. And tomorrow, they would be hers. Except, if everything went to plan, she’d be making other sounds besides.

He was staring at me again, furrowing his brow.

“It’s just that …why pay me at all, you know? I gotta ask. You don’t want any of my performers. You don’t want my camera crew. I have to say, I’m not the only guy in New York with a studio, you know? Why not just use your house…?”

“Have I made myself unclear in any way?” I said.

“I’m sorry?”

“My requirements of you. Have I explained them clearly?”

“Yeah, sure, just that –”

“And the contract is signed, the fee paid?”

“Yeah.”

“And you can do everything you’ve agreed to? You can guarantee complete privacy and anonymity during the specified times?”

“Yes, of course, but–”

“Then I don’t see any problem here.”

He smiled a crooked smile at me and shrugged again.

“Look, you’re the boss here, relax. It’s strange, is all. But fine.”

His fee was essentially to ensure that nobody else would be in the studio at the time, no potential witnesses, nobody to interrupt or interfere with anything. Not even him.

I extended my hand and he shook it, then we both stood.

“You sure you don’t wanna …you know? The girls love a guy in a suit, I swear.”

I smiled at him and gestured toward the source of the moans. I followed him and he lead me through an ordinary looking door and into a brightly lit studio. Two naked bodies took center stage in the bright white light and a full filming crew surrounded them, each craning large and expensive looking cameras to the naked pair. He was right. His crew did have some impressive looking equipment. But no matter. My camera crew didn’t need anything high tech. Not for this assignment, at least.

The woman wasn’t what I was expecting. She was small, tiny actually, dark haired and wearing an incredible amount of makeup. Young, too. It felt awful, to see her there, but despite myself, I was a little excited. I swallowed hard as Michael beckoned me to come in quietly and stand at the back. Nothing filled the room except the almost clinical sound of the lights and cameras whirring and humming, and her endless, plastic moaning.

She was standing at a ‘kitchen’ counter, hands outstretched, ass pushing backwards into a muscular guy behind her. From behind the cameras, I couldn’t see anything. But I could hear it, which was somehow worse, and I could see her long brown hair shaking as the muscled guy slapped against her again and again, grabbing handfuls of her ass flesh and pulling her down onto him. It was bizarre. And dispassionate. And yes, oddly arousing.

The woman turned to look at the guy, her lips curled into a half growl, half grimace, and in a split second, her eyes floated away from him and out into the room, falling square on my face. I blushed hot but in an instant, she looked away again, as though nothing had happened. The moaning continued.

“See? I told you they love the suits” Michael whispered loudly and prodded my ribs.

I looked on, hands in my pockets. At that moment, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I glanced down. Natasha. Excusing myself, I slipped into the corridor and answered it.

“Natty.”

“Hey. It’s me. Where are you?” she said.

“Uh, I’m with a client. Just finishing up a meeting. Everything OK?” I said. Her voice sounded strange and distant.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Just …wanted to know when you’d be home.”

“Home? Um, I don’t know. Nine? I’ll let you know.”

The line went quiet. It almost crackled with her irritation.

“Was there anything else?” I asked, instantly realizing how dismissive I sounded. But fuck it, she had caught me by surprise.

“Well …no, I guess not. Oh my God, what is that noise?” she said, and I cringed as the woman inside the room started yelping even louder.

“It’s …it’s nothing. I’m with a client. We’re at a …strip club. His idea. Long story. Look, I’ve gotta go.”

I could hear her breathing. How tacky. How fucking awful. That someone like her would have suspicions about me. But whatever. I hated lying to her, but tomorrow everything would be revealed. Once and for all.

“It doesn’t sound like a strip club,” she said.

I said nothing.

“Fine. Whatever. See you later,” she said, and then hung up.

Fuck.

I stuffed the phone back into my pocket.

“Everything OK?”

Michael was poking his head round the corner.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Tamara asked who the hunk in the suit was” he said, laughing.

I scowled at him.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Fine. One hundred percent discretion,” he said, and made a mock salute.

I shook his hand and tried to gather myself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.

“Tomorrow.”

Chapter 19 - Natasha

I hate being left alone with my thoughts. Scratch that – I hate being left alone, period.

Waiting for today, I had stressed myself nearly half to death. Should I mention to him what I found? Was I about to get my true ‘punishment’ once and for all? What on earth had possessed me to agree to any of this …hadn’t I told myself that I could leave any time I wanted to?

Maybe it was all some long-winded, sinister prank. He would sweet talk me, make me feel like all was forgiven and forgotten, and just as I was at my most vulnerable, he’d pull the rug out from under me. But how? More humiliation? Or was I about to find my way into a ditch on the city outskirts with two bullets in my head? I knew that men like him had connections. I knew things could happen. Did happen.

And that fucking creepy mask. I couldn’t even sleep in the same room with it. Todd hadn’t come home at nine. In fact, I slinked off to bed early myself and prayed I wouldn’t bump into him. And now it was morning and he was nowhere to be seen and I was left alone, again, with my thoughts. Chewing round and round and round in my head.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the car. As usual, the driver had already been told where to take me. As usual, all that was required of me was to pitch up and take whatever he threw my way. Though I was nervous enough to be shaking, I tried to still my mind as we drove on.

Porn. Fine. I could handle it, couldn’t I? I mean, after all the things he’d already made me do, it was a strange thing to be hesitant about. Would he make me perform in a film? Surely not. Our social crowd is pretty forgiving on these matters, but how on earth would that go down for him, professionally, to have a wife who had done porn? It would be an embarrassment for him. It didn’t make any sense.

We wound our way through the streets and hit some traffic. I stared out the window. Admired my manicure. All at once I decided: I wasn’t having fun anymore. All the guessing. The games. I was done. Maybe I should just pitch up and tell him that it’s been great, but I’m out. I had only ever cheated because he wasn’t available. I never intended for any of this, for it all to get so out of control.

We finally reached our destination, and I got out and watched the driver leave and merge back into the traffic. It was a nondescript building, a little like a courthouse or traffic department. Ugh. I went inside and frowned, looking for the next ‘clue’. He was there. That was a little startling. By now, I was used to dealing only with his proxies. Maids. Ushers. People who swanned around and did his bidding. But here he was, dressed sharply as usual and fresh faced, extending his hand to me. The building was deserted inside.

“Natasha,” he said simply.

I gave him my hand and he kissed it.

“Where are we?” I asked him.

He smiled and looked around.

“Believe it or not, this is Red Star’s headquarters.”

“Red Star? The porn company?” It was a little surprising. They were so huge even I had heard of them and this is where they were based?

“Come upstairs with me.”

I followed him into the elevator. God I felt tired. Possibly too tired for any of this. I had stayed up all night stressing about his stupid diary. We stepped out and made our way past some plain looking rooms. He took my hand gently and led me this way and that way, and we arrived at a room on the far corner, labelled “studio 4” on the door.

I saw this and stopped dead. My heels pressed silently into the spongy carpet. He turned to look at me.

“Todd, what are we doing?” I asked. His face was expressionless.

“Come with me,” he said again.

“No but, why? Where are we going? What are you going to make me do?” I said. I felt the panic rising in my throat again, not least because it was clear now and I knew he could see it. He relaxed and dropped my hand.

“You’ll soon see, if you just come inside with me,” he said calmly.

“But I’m scared Todd. I don’t want to do any of this anymore.”

He took a step back.

“Then leave. I always told you that you could.”

My heart beat fiercely in my throat. He was right, as fucking usual. I couldn’t leave. Not when I was so desperate to know what was on the other side of that door.

“Todd, I won’t do porn. You know how I feel about that. You know I hate it. Please don’t make me do something like that” I said, getting upset.

“Again, nobody is making anyone do anything” he said.”

“Is it porn? Behind the door? A porn set?”

He shrugged and smiled wickedly.

“Again, there’s only one way to find out.”

The more upset I was getting, the more relaxed he seemed. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying it. I tried to think hard about some logic puzzle he had once described to me. About opening doors? About the chances of finding a goat behind one of them or something? It was all a psychological trick. That’s it. He was trying to mess with my mind.

“It doesn’t matter, even if it is a porn set. If it is, I’m just walking straight back out again,” I said, decisively.

He kept smiling.

“Sure, why not?” he said, a little too mockingly.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Was he going to …restrain me? I mean, obviously he had restrained me many, many times already but was this …was this for real? Oh my god, maybe he would murder me.

“So, what’s it going to be? Or are we going to stand here in the passageway all evening?”

I clutched hold of my handbag and tried to think. Why the fuck was it so hard for me to just walk away right now? Just forget this whole stupid mess. He was a wreck of a human being, and I wasn’t much better, and though we deserved each other, wasn’t enough enough already? I was no longer having fun. That much was clear. I straightened my posture and cleared my voice.

“To be honest, I don’t trust you,” I said.

His face lit up and he began to laugh.

“There! That’s it right there. God, you are predictable, that’s for sure. I knew you’d say that. But now that you have, don’t you think it’s a little …hypocritical?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s laughable, really. That you wouldn’t trust me, isn’t it?”

I hadn’t technically had sex with Todd for more than a year. I had fucked in front of him, sure. He had barked orders at others, who did his bidding. But one painful, suddenly very relevant fact came blaring into my mind: we still hadn’t had sex ourselves. Not even once. No matter how much I begged.

“I apologized to you, Todd. Over and over again. I was wrong. I didn’t want any of those men. I only ever wanted –”

He raised his hand to silence me.

“We’ve played this game before, Natasha, and I can tell we’re both tired of it. So I’ve been thinking. What do I really want from you? Really, at the end of the day? Do you think I care that you fuck other men? Do you honestly think that matters at all to me?”

I stared at him a little dumbfounded. Yes. That was exactly what I thought.

“Well, I don’t care. Not really. Pussy is pussy. And you’re hot but, no offense, there are a million hot girls just like you crawling around this town. You see what I’m getting at?”

I gulped. My head was beginning to spin.

“So, what was I to do, with the fact that I had a wife who was just as cheap and disposable as every other woman, just as disloyal? As disrespectful?”

“I never disrespected you –”

“Just as careless? Well, I thought that I would be satisfied ‘punishing’ you. Fuck, it was good while it lasted. Men are pigs. You’re a pig. It was fun to watch you, to watch how far you’d go…”

My jaw dropped.

“I did all of that for you, Todd,” I said quietly. It seemed like the simplest, clearest description of the situation I could muster. It was true. It was all for him. Everything.

“Yes, well, see that’s where it gets difficult. Did you? You enjoyed it. Obviously, you enjoyed it. I don’t care. I liked seeing it. But something still wasn’t right. You still hadn’t been punished. Not really. Things were still unresolved between us. And I just found that I couldn’t forgive you. Not even a little.”

“You don’t forgive me?”

It seemed like a dumb idea, now that it was stated so plainly. That with enough out-in-the-open debauchery I could cancel out the secret debauchery. Well, I hadn’t gotten to have my cake and eat it after all. In fact, I wasn’t even sure we were talking about the same cake anymore.

“No. I don’t. And honestly, it was never about me absolving you. I thought that I could control it. Control you. I thought that if you just did enough, then we could move on somehow.”

“Todd, I did everything I could. Everything you wanted me to do…”

“I know,” he said coldly. “And yet it wasn’t enough.”

We stood there, looking at one another. The building was eerily quiet.

“Todd, what’s in that room?” I asked again.

“Come with me and see.”

“I can’t.”

“Then leave.”

“I… I can’t do that either,” I said, and looked down at my feet.

“We don’t need to keep going over this again and again. You’re my wife. I made a vow to you. But there’s only so much I can take. So today, we resolve it once and for all.”

I stared at him hard. He was my husband. I knew his face, although it was a little far from me now, and the features seemed so detached. Like he was just a sepia photograph of himself, or not himself at all, just a man who resembled him, a distant relation from long ago. A ghost. Something painful panged deep inside me. I missed him. I missed him so much.

“Do you trust me? Come inside,” he said.

So I stepped inside.

Chapter 20 - Todd

The room was bare, and mostly filled with darkness.

It was a featureless cube, without windows, the tracks of overhead lighting turned off. There were three tall standing lamps in the middle of the room, like eerie robots with bright, empty faces, looking down at a clearing like they were examining it. In the clearing was a fold out table, also bare, with two glasses, both containing clear liquid.

It was deathly quiet, and I paused, allowing her eyes to adjust to the strange lighting inside, and for her to think, and look over her shoulder. I closed the door behind us. It was just me and her. After all the fucking drama, all the fights, all the parties and threats of divorce and nasty words …after all of it, we were alone. My eyes prickled hot.

“There are no cameras,” she said, the relief evident in her voice.

“No,” I said, and stepped closer into the light. “Only I can see you in here.”

“Why here? Why in a porn studio?”

“Why not? I wanted to see the look on your face. It cost me a lot. But it was worth it.”

I could see the tension drop a little from her elegant shoulders, but her face was still in knots, and she frowned, looking intently around the room as though she was sure some bogeyman would leap out at her at any moment. Of course there were no cameras. Why the fuck would there be? Wasn’t that her worst nightmare? And hadn’t I done everything in my power to make her whole life a complete dream?

She went to the table and peered down at the glasses.

“What’s this?” she asked. Of course she asked that. I knew everything she was going to say. I knew her inside out. And I had planned out this moment in painstaking detail. I stepped up behind her, close but not touching, and looked at them with her.

“I’m glad you asked. One of those glasses contains simple water. Nothing fancy.”

“And the other one?”

I pulled up a chair from the ring of darkness around us and gestured for her to sit. What can I say, I love a little drama. What’s the point of money, if you can’t have taste, or indulge in the theatrical sometimes?

“Well, the other contains a deadly poison. A very deadly poison. I had to work very hard to get my hands on this substance. It’s illegal for me to even own, but I had to have it. One sip of this tasteless, colorless liquid and within seconds you’re dead. It’s powerful, but metabolizes quickly and so is perfectly undetectable in any autopsy. The cause of death for such a person would be cardiac arrest.”

I spoke slowly, making sure she held onto each and every word. It was all important. Today, we would resolve things, once and for all.

“Which is which?” she said, because of course she would say that next.

“The interesting thing is, you don’t know, Natasha. You don’t know which one is which.”

She shot me a look.

“Do you?”

I nodded.

“Of course I do. I set all of this up. I know which glass will kill you stone dead, and which will be nothing more than a harmless sip of water.”

“Will kill me stone dead?” she asked.

“Yes, you’ll be the one taking a sip. You’ll have to take one sip from one of these glasses, yes.”

She stared at the glasses and then at me. She scowled and quickly stood up from her seat, but I pinned her back down.

“Natasha, so help me, you can walk away now, but I mean it: walk away and you will never see me again. You will be divorced before close of business tomorrow and I will make it so that you never even existed in this town. You can leave. But know that once you turn around and go through that door, there is no going back.”

She laughed out loud. An ugly laugh.

“So, I have to take a fifty-fifty chance on landing up dead, or divorce you? Just how great do you think you are?” she sneered. Christ, she looked hot when she got a little bothered like this. But I reminded myself to stay focused. This was no place or time for sex.

I smiled down at her.

“Quiet down. There’s no need to get excited. It’s not a fifty-fifty chance, exactly. If you stay in this room with me, you have to take one sip, that’s the rule. But I know which glass you should choose from.”

“So are you going to tell me then?” She was getting exasperated.

“Oh of course I’ll tell you. The poison is in the glass on the right. Drink from the left and you’ll get nothing but water, and we can leave here and go and have a picnic” I said breezily.

Her eyes narrowed.

“But how do I know you’re telling the truth?” she asked. Beautiful. Just the question I wanted her to ask.

“Well, Natasha, you don’t. And therein lies the rub.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, that’s the problem between you and I, isn’t it?”

“That you’re a creepy asshole who’s trying to poison me?” she spat.

I laughed.

“No. That there is no trust. I make my living solving highly sophisticated problems Natasha. All day long I solve puzzles of complexity you can’t even begin to imagine. And yet this was really tricky for me. How do you get trust back, once it’s broken?”

She sat in silence, her anger fizzling off a little as she considered what I was saying.

“You don’t trust me,” she said plainly.

“Oh, I trust you. I trusted you when I threw you out there to get fucked by whoever I liked. Jesus, I couldn’t find men fast enough for you to fuck! Oh no, that’s not the problem. I trust you Natty. And I know you. But you don’t trust me.”

She lifted her eyes to mine, and in the dim light I saw them wobble along the bottom with fresh tears.

“And that’s clear to see. The poison is on the right,” I said.

“But I don’t know that for sure,” she replied quietly.

“So, you see the problem. The sex was never the problem. The pool boys, the stupid diaries. I don’t care, Natty, honestly. But I’ve at last found a way to solve this once and for all.”

“How?”

“Drink. Take a sip, or get out. You could assume I’m lying and take a sip from the glass on the right. I can have your body cremated. Or you could trust me and drink what I tell you to drink.”

She frowned at the glasses, and I could almost hear her thinking. She looked so beautiful, even now. Especially now, even, all unguarded and wild and raw like this. I fucking loved this woman, and nobody could prove otherwise. I would do anything for her. And that’s why I had to test her like this.

She had come here, probably expecting some sordid sex thing, and why wouldn’t she? But that was too easy. She knew how to do that. Alone here in a room with her, with both of us fully clothed, it honestly felt like the most intimate thing we had ever done. Fuck the whips and the chains. This was scary.

She looked over her shoulder and considered the door and her third option of running away and leaving me forever. But her gaze came quickly back to the table. She lifted a slender, shaking arm and wrapped cautious fingers around the glass on the right. As though she just wanted to touch it.

“It would kill me instantly?”

“Instantly.”

She pulled her hand away and rested it on the glass on the left instead.

“What’s in this glass Todd?” she asked, her eyes closed, as though we were both rehearsing lines from a play.

“It’s water, my darling.”

“Is it water? Is it really?”

“It is.”

“Can I trust you? Can I believe you?” she said. They were words said for their own sake. She wasn’t saying them to get an answer from me. She was saying them to herself, to see if she could believe them.

“I would never lie to you, my love. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you. Drink from the left glass and we can leave here, and forget all this.”

Her hand wavered on the cool surface. I was sweating bullets. I knew Natasha. I was betting on how well I knew her. But she had a violent, unpredictable streak too. It was a risk I had taken: that she would take a spiteful gulp from the glass on the right and I’d have to watch her fall over and die within seconds. It would kill me, of course. It would kill me. But at least then I would know, once and for all.

Money is worthless. Youth and beauty are worthless. I don’t give a damn about paltry things like fidelity. All I wanted from her was her trust. For her to believe me, and believe in me. And if she couldn’t do that now, if she couldn’t prove that I had that special place in her heart, then she was better dead to me anyway. Like I said, I have a flair for drama, so sue me.

I suppose you want to know what happened next? Which glass she chose? Well, I understand. It was the single most painfully anxious moment of my life, that I can say. I stopped breathing. But all at once, she lifted the glass on the left, brought it to her lips and without hesitating, gulped down the water, all of it, till there was not a single drop left. She banged the glass down on the table and stared straight ahead.

“I trust you, Todd,” she said.

My world crumpled like burnt paper and everything came rushing in to a fine, glorious point somewhere between my eyes. A choking sensation grew deep in my throat, and my heart felt like it had stopped beating all together. I realized with alarm that my face was hot. I was crying. Long, wet streaks poured from my eyes as I stared down at her. My Natty. My beautiful wife. Alive and well. So alive she seemed to glow and pulse right in front of me. I would do anything for this woman. I had done everything for her.

She stared straight ahead, strangely calm. It was a reversal of our old roles. It was my turn to weep like a baby and succumb to my emotions, and her turn to survey me a cool calm air. She stood and looked at me. Something had changed in her.

“I understand now. I understand why you did what you did. I get it. I was wrong, Todd. I was so, so wrong to treat you like I did. But you are right. I was scared to trust you. I was so scared of everything. But you knew. You knew what I needed. You knew that we had to get here, we had to get to this point…”

Her voice was clear and strong, almost as though she was an actress now, all the spotlights on her, and everything else dark and listening. The tears kept streaming down my face. I tightened my jaw and tried to see through the blur.

“For the last few months I kept asking myself, what are we doing? What on earth are we doing? But I get it now. We were doing what we had to do. To stay together.”

I couldn’t speak. Nothing in the world existed for me at that moment but her clear, bright face. And my love for her. In this room, I had cleared away the last ugly cobwebs of doubt and fear that had clung to our relationship from the beginning. But with a long, cool drink of plain tap water, we had washed that all away now. The poison had left us, in this strange, dark room, and it had left forever. I could feel it. And I knew she could feel it too.

She reached out and touched me. Ordinarily, I would have shut her out, scoffed at her. I, too, had been scared. But now, things were different. Instantly, my body responded to her, and I was rock hard in a matter of seconds. She stepped closer towards me and pressed her long, feminine form against me, and I was overwhelmed by her scent and the softness of her skin.

I wanted to be inside her. I wanted to bury into her as far as I could go, and hold her and keep her, and lavish on her all the pleasure her beautiful little body could stand. She leaned in for a kiss and I hungrily returned it, and we kissed slowly but with a sweet, passionate hunger. Her lips were trembling but deliberate, working over mine with a care and skill that took my breath away. She was guiding me. And when she guided me gently to the floor, I followed. She always was the expert, in matters of the heart. Of the body. I gave myself over to her.

Her little hands worked quickly over my clothes, removing each layer and tossing it aside. I was soon naked, face wet, staring up at her as she straddled me, my massively engorged cock tucked between us both.

“I love you Natty,” I said.

“I love you. Now you’ve made me wait so long for this, and I don’t want to wait any longer,” she said, and leaned in for another kiss.

Chapter 21 - Natasha

Perhaps you’ll think I’m crazy, just like Pablo and basically everyone thinks I’m crazy, but nothing else in my life felt more right than it did at that moment. In that weird room, with him, and his crazy “tests”, I finally found some peace and understanding. Really. All that other stuff? All the other men? They were all just foreplay.

I was a virgin, now, and fucking him was the only thing that mattered. In fact, my whole life felt like it led up to that strange, sweet moment. And then we were naked together, in the semi-darkness. The masks could come off now. The games were over, the artifice had broken down and now it was just me and him. And our bodies.

I kissed him hard and deep. I had forgotten how good it was, just to kiss him, to taste him. He entered me with ease, and I pressed my body down onto his, smoothly snaking against him, hungry for every last inch of his glorious cock. Instantly, wordlessly, we found a soft, tender rhythm between us, and soon, I realized I was crying too. There had been so many men. So many lies. But only he mattered now. Only this, here. Only his beautiful body and all the delicious things it was doing to mine.

There was no hurry. But with each strong, full thrust, I responded internally to him. I did trust him. I trusted him with my heart and soul. And body. I was a nobody when he found me, and he had loved me. In his own way, he had been a nobody too. And I loved him so much it hurt. In and out he slid, stronger and deeper, his breath coming in shortening rasps through his wide, gorgeous chest.

His handsome face softened and stared up adoringly into mine. I could tell he was coming. I girded myself against him and held him hard, and as he spasmed deep inside me I slipped easily over into my own warm, juicy orgasm. It was sweet and warm and fucking hot and when we both stopped shaking, we pulled back and found one another’s eyes again.

“I missed you,” I said.

He smiled and kissed my brow. I flopped forward and lay there against him for a moment. A sweet, simple fuck. No fireworks. No whips and chains. And certainly no other men. But all the same, it was the kinkiest and most vulnerable I had ever felt. He stayed inside me as I placed tentative lips on his and kissed him.

“Let’s go again,” he said.

“Again? Now?” I giggled. This really was a new Todd.

He instantly stiffened inside me and the slow stroking began again, both of us staring deeply into the other’s eyes. It was cheesy. It was sex 101 stuff, of course. But I blushed hard all the same. This was all new to me. Being naked, here, with his cock in me …what could be sexier?

We found the old rhythm and soon I was fired up again. He pulled me down into him for another deep kiss, but then pulled away again just as suddenly.

“Promise me, Natasha. Promise me right now. Whatever is in your heart, trust that no matter how dark it is, I want to be a part of it. Always. Even if you cheat on me and deceive me, I want to be there. Through all of it. I love you Natasha. All of you. Even the bad parts,” he said, all at once.

His face was serious but tender. Then he fucked me hard, once, driving his immense cock deep into me.

“Especially the bad parts.”

Chapter 22 - Natasha

Am I doing it right?” he said. “What about now? Natty, you’re not even looking!”

I smiled at him from the deck chair.

“Of course I’m looking! You need to bring your shoulders forward more so they’ll take you further once they go under the water. You really have to get the downward stroke as long as possible,” I said. “Anyway, quit practicing so hard. Butterfly is the hardest stroke, why do you want to know how to do it?”

“Because it’s the hardest stroke!” he said, and I watched his powerful body push off the pool edge as he took another lap. He was strong and disciplined, but his technique was definitely on the beginner end of things. Like with most things in life, he threw himself into the task, slicing up the blue water with each heavy stroke, propelling his lithe, naked form quickly to the other end of our pool.

When he reached the other side, he stood and the water poured off of him. God he was good looking. My husband. My schedule hadn’t changed much these last few months, but for Todd it had, and now he wanted to spend as many mornings as possible home here with me. He playfully called it his “skinny dipping training” and got all cute and competitive about it. Today, he made me show him how to do butterfly, even though to be honest, his other strokes left a lot to be desired.

He shook his head quickly, like a dog, and his dark, wet hair against his tanned skin looked amazing. I’ve always loved the pool. But I love it much more when there’s a hunk like him splashing around in it…

“Are you dry yet? Can you come and join me already?”

“Don’t interfere, you don’t know how the process goes,” I said, laughing.

“Don’t make me come up there.”

“Don’t make me come down there,” I laughed.

“Or what? Go on, I’m not scared,” he said, and I couldn’t pull my eyes from his firm chest, speckled with droplets. I was so glad he was spending more time at the gym these days. More time doing anything, really, that wasn’t work.

“Ok that was the last straw, buster, I’ve had enough,” I said and sprang to my feet. I was naked too, but I never really feel that way, next to the pool with the sun on me. Guessing his next move, I sprang back and shielded myself with my upturned towel, then stood well from the edge and taunted him a little. He chopped the surface of the water with a strong arm and sent a long sheet of water my direction. I squealed and leapt out of the way.

“Missed me!” I said, and pulled my tongue out at him while dashing behind the chair.

Down came his hand again and he threw another splash of water at my naked, sun warmed body, and this time a few sprinkles landed on me and set me off into goosebumps.

“Bastard!” I said, and I heard him laughing good-naturedly.

I dropped the towel and ran towards the edge of the pool, flung myself off and rolled into a ball. Down into the silent water I went, like a rock, and when I broke my head through the surface again, it was to see him completely doused and with a good foot of the pool water lying in puddles on the tiles, the water’s edge still sloshing violently.

“Bitch!” he laughed and came for me. I squealed and swam away. Luckily for me, all that muscle and heft doesn’t move quite so swiftly through water, and he couldn’t catch me for a while. But when he did, I was out of breath.

He pinned me into a corner, strong arm on either side of me, legs spread beneath the water, and kept me there in a little cage his body made. It was fine, I was only pretending to want to escape anyway. He smoothed over my rat’s tail hair and kissed my wet lips, and I kissed him back.

“See? Didn’t I say? Everything’s better in the pool” I said, and went for another kiss.

I had lost count of the days we had whiled away like this, me bobbing in his lap, the water lapping at the edge with each little thrust. Fucking him was glorious. Fucking him in the pool was even better.

He tasted like holidays.

The fund was doing alright these days, but Todd was slowly pulling out, taking things easy and not letting business eat up every day of his from morning to night. We didn’t suffer. In fact, we seemed so much wealthier now that he was home so much more, and we could actually enjoy things. We had downsized a little, since that fateful day in the dark room. No more pool boys, for one, but I also cleared out my closet and started to rethink my whole debutante-dragged-through-a-hedge-backwards look. I still loved more than anything to be naked, like I was now. That way, he could access me whenever he wanted. With no clothing, there was nothing between us. No masks.

I lie, though, I wasn’t completely naked: it had been our anniversary the month before, and he had bought me a beautiful choker necklace. A solid bangle, only it was big enough to go round my neck, with a tiny metal buckle at the center. He had clasped it round me, locked it and kept the key. I still wore my giant engagement and wedding ring, but this? This was the real symbol of what we had together. It was a secret between us two, and nothing in the world could have made me take it off.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” he said, smiling suddenly at me. “I have a present for you.”

Swirling the water all around him, he stepped out of the pool, wrapped a towel round his gorgeous body and disappeared inside the house. When he returned, he had something in his hands. A book.

I dried my own hands and reached for it, and he gave it to me carefully, squatting low on the pool edge and smiling down at me, still half submerged on the top step. It was a beautiful gilded diary, all curls and flowers etched on the front. A thick diary, very well-made, with a little lock to close it, but which currently hung open.

“Open it,” he said, and smiled at me with twinkling eyes. Fuck, he was hot.

I opened the cover and saw the first entry had already been written. The same hand writing I could pick out in a lineup.

I decided to get rid of the old diary. I had some good times, and some bad times, but all of that is in the past now. From today, I’m focusing on the future. I love Todd, and though we’ve had a difficult year, I wouldn’t change it for anything. He’s very handsome, and he has a massive dick, I just thought I might add. What a hottie. Eleven out of ten.

I threw back my head and laughed.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself!” I said.