Whipped wife

CHAPTER THREE

"What are you so nervous about?" Jack asked as he stood in the doorway and smiled at Diane. The blonde was wearing a bathrobe now, tied tightly around her waist.

"Please go, Jack. My husband's bound to be home any minute now," Diane pleaded. She couldn't predict what Matt would do if he ever found out she'd cheated on him. Granted, he didn't seem to care about her in the sack any more. But she was still his wife, and he had a kind of possessiveness about her, even if he didn't fuck her much any more.

"Remember. If you want me for anything, I'll be around. And good luck with the samples," Jack said as he turned around and walked quickly to his car.

Diane closed the door quickly and inhaled sharply. She could still smell stale cunt juice in the air! Matt would smell it if he walked in now. Diane ran to the kitchen and grabbed a can of room deodorant, running back into the living room and spraying the lemon-scented freshener until that sharp odor was gone. The blonde sighed and smiled, tossing the can onto the couch and walking dreamily to her bedroom.

Jack's dick had felt wonderful between her legs. It had been so long since someone had fucked her like that. If only Matt would, Diane sighed as she walked into the bedroom and pulled off her bathrobe. Matt wouldn't do anything to her that night or any other night. He was wrapped up in his own world of God-only-knows what.

As Diane slipped between the sheets of the king-sized bed and folded her hands behind her head, she thought of Jack's rugged, powerful body and how it felt hammering and grinding against hers. She closed her eyes and moaned to herself as she slowly slipped into unconsciousness. Diane was sorry that she'd sent him away. How she wanted him now, crawling on top of her and jabbing his cock head against her puffy labes! How it would feel to wake up in the morning to a man who couldn't keep his hands and cock off you! These thoughts and other similar ones buzzed around and around in her head as the blonde fell asleep.

"OH!" Diane cried out as she felt something crack across her face. She jerked up in bed and raised her right hand to her face protectively. As Diane focused her eyes, she realized that Matt was standing by the edge of the bed staring at her. The hall light was on, flooding the bedroom with a bright yellow glow. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, Diane saw that it was four in the morning. Looking back at Matt, she could smell the alcohol on his breath. He'd been drinking heavily.

"You're drunk!" Diane said with disgust as Matt rocked back and forth unsteadily.

"So what?" Matt asked, leering at her as he reached down and started unbuckling his belt.

"What are you doing?" Diane asked nervously as she watched her husband closely. He had a different attitude about him now. There was a new feeling that surrounded him. It was more savage and threatening than she'd ever sensed from him before.

"Gonna teach you a lesson, bitch!" Matt growled. A twisted smile snaked across his lips as he grabbed the buckle end of his black leather belt with his right hand and pulled it out of his trousers.

"What do…?" Diane started to ask. Her question was cut short by a sharp blow across her face. Matt had slapped her hard, knocking her down roughly to the mattress.

"Ohhhh!" the woman cried, sliding up on the bed and drawing the top sheet protectively under her chin.

"Who's been here?" Matt asked savagely, reaching down and ripping the top sheet off the bed.

Diane whimpered helplessly as her eyes widened in horror. This was a new, terrifying Matt. His right hand was raised high over his head, the belt clutched tightly in his fingers. The buckle end hung down onto the bed as he stared with hatred at his cringing wife.

"I-I don't know what you mean," Diane whimpered, feeling hot flashes of guilt and horror rake her trembling body.

"You know fuckin' well what I'm talkin' about!" Matt screamed drunkenly at her as he brought the belt down with all his might. The leather belt whistled through the air and landed with a sharp thwack on Diane's left buttock. The blonde's eyes sprang open with pain and horror as her mouth shot open and a shriek of agony and fear filled the room.

"Ahhhhrghhh!" Diane cried out, reaching down and rubbing the sore spot on her ass.

"Whore! You're nothin' but a fuckin' whore!" Matt drawled in a slurred voice as he brought the belt down another time.

Diane screamed and screamed, rolling back and forth on the groaning bed and vainly trying to shield her body from the blows with her hands as the belt whistled and cut through the air. The screams merged into one continuous cry of horror as her body burned from the pain. Every muscle ached with physical tension as the belt cut savagely into her quivering flesh.

"Don't! Oh God, it hurts! It hurts!" Diane cried out as Matt stopped beating her with the belt and stood panting over her. She felt the welts beginning to rise on her tortured flesh as sobs choked her throat.

"You little slut. I found out what's been goin' on around here finally. Hal Jones next door was goin' to work for the early-morning shift. He said he and his wife heard a crash outside a couple of hours ago. They told me about that guy and you and how he stayed here for a couple of hours," Matt gasped as he seemed to be getting ready for another round of beating.

"No, don't. I didn't do anything. I swear! We just talked!" Diane pleaded. She couldn't tell him the truth! He'd kill her in the kind of mood he was in now.

"Fuckin' bitch!" Matt said, throwing the belt down and reaching forward. He caught her hair in his hands and yanked back.

"Aiyeeee!" Diane shrieked, feeling her head jerked back. He was pulling her off the bed by the hair. Diane dug her fingernails into the mattress, kicking her feet in the air as Matt kept pulling and dragging her across the sheet.

With one final jerk, her husband finally pulled her off the bed. Diane grunted as she rolled over the edge and crashed down onto the floor. Matt let go of her hair and stood towering above her, his hands on his hips.

"Wh-what are you going to do?" Diane stammered as she looked up at her husband.

"Get up!" Matt ordered.

Diane tucked her feet under her firm buttocks and stood up, wondering what kind of ordeal she'd have to suffer from her husband.

"Hey, Jennie. Come on in here," Matt said, turning his head and shouting over his shoulder.

Diane stood horrified and shocked as a tall, wispy brunette sashayed into the bedroom with a drink of Scotch in her hand.

"Hmmmmm?" the girl asked, looking with amusement at the husband and wife. "I see you've been at wifey-poo," the girl said mockingly, leaning against the doorframe and taking a long drink from her glass.

"Who's that?" Diane asked a little indignantly.

"Someone who's gonna help me teach you a lesson," Matt said sarcastically as he reached forward and grabbed Diane tightly around the wrist.

"Why are you doing this to me?" the blonde wailed as her husband's grip grew tighter and more painful.

"That's the way he is, honey. You'd better get used to it. Matt's a whole different person from the guy you married," the girl said as she finished her drink and put the empty glass down on the dresser. "Shut up, Jennie!" Matt said angrily as he started pulling the protesting Diane toward the hallway.

"Where are you taking me?" Diane asked.

"There's some things you better learn fast about your husband," Jennie said as Diane was dragged past the smiling brunette. "A whole new world's been opened up to him. It started in his Art History classes," the woman explained as she followed Diane into the living room. "While you were cooking away at home, Matt learned about the fine art of bondage."

"Bondage?" Diane asked, feeling a thrill of horror shoot up and down her spine. She'd heard about people who got into that sort of thing. But it never particularly appealed to her. She always thought they were the Hollywood type of person who walked around in leather jockey shorts and beat up on women who loved that sort of thing. But not here in suburbia! It couldn't be happening to her. She and Matt had their differences – but this?

"I said shut up!" Matt growled, tightening his grip even more.

"Owwww!" Diane groaned, sinking to her knees as Matt grinned savagely at his cringing wife.

"Better do as he says, honey. This one's a real tough number," Jennie warned.

"And who are you?" Diane asked as Matt let go of her arm.

"One of the girls from his class. But it doesn't matter. He takes care of us one at a time or in a group. Some of the guys join in. It's a gas! He brought me home tonight purposely to force you into it," Jennie said simply as she reached down and curled her fingers around the bottom of her black double-knit pullover.

Diane heard this confession in disbelief. This couldn't be happening to her! She watched with horror as the young brunette pulled her sweater over her thunderous tits and threw it carelessly onto the floor. She stood in front of Diane with her big tits hanging down her chest.

"I'm takin' her downstairs," Matt said decisively as he reached down and grabbed Diane's wrist again.

"Leave me alone!" the blonde cried out, twisting wildly under his grip.

"Don't fight him, honey. Not unless you want more of those charming welts," Jennie warned.

But Diane didn't care what the girl said. She couldn't believe the shame and horror that was being dumped on her head. To find out something like this in the middle of the night in this kind of condition was a horror that she couldn't stand. The blonde shrieked like a madwoman, thrashing on the floor and beating her fists against her husband's legs and belly.

"Goddamned fuckin' bitch!" Matt growled, raising his right hand high over his head. Diane didn't see what was about to happen. She kept kicking, bitching, hitting and scratching. Suddenly there was a sharp blow across the side of her face.

"Uhhh!" she cried out, feeling everything around her spin crazily. The dull pain faded as everything went dark. The last thing the blonde remembered was Jennie laughing mockingly while Matt heaped curses on her head.

"Ohhh," Diane moaned as she slowly rose to a level of consciousness. There was a loud buzzing in her ears as she shook her head gently and opened her eyes. Matt was standing in front of her, smirking strangely. Only then did the blonde realize what was happening. Her hands were bound together and pulled high over her head. Raising her face, Diane saw that Matt had turned his workroom into a kind of medieval torture chamber. She'd wondered why he wouldn't let her down into the basement when he was working there. And when she did sneak down the door to the shop was padlocked. Now she saw the inside for the first time, and the sight terrified her.

"Like it?" Jennie asked.

Diane turned to her right and saw the girl standing next to her. But what a change! The brunette was in a kind of uniform. The girl was wearing a pair of black, shiny boots that pressed tightly against her creamy flesh. Her bushy, black cunt hairs seemed to spark with electricity as the girl stared at Diane's stretched, welted body. The blonde lifted her eyes even higher and saw that Jennie's tits were encased in a tight-fitting leather bra with the tips cut off, letting the girl's stiff brown nipples poke their way into the air.

"What is all this?" Diane asked in disbelief. She felt as if she was having some kind of nightmare, and that she'd be waking up safely in her own bed in a few short seconds.

"Your husband's playtime," Jennie said simply, walking up to Diane until her bushy cunt was brushing lightly against the blonde's pussy.

"Please, don't," Diane said uneasily. She'd never had a pussy rubbing up against hers before. The feeling right now wasn't any too pleasant. The brunette's hot breath and sparkling eyes indicated that she was ready to strap Diane on right then and there.

"Ever eat snatch?" Jennie asked softly as her tits heaved up and down with excitement.

"Nooo," Diane wailed, turning her head away and pulling down at her bonds with all her might.

"Might as well forget about getting away, honey," Jennie said, reaching out and stroking the blonde's goose-fleshed belly skin.

"No! Don't touch me!" Diane cried out, jerking her body outward and pulling down on the leather thongs that pulled tightly up on her aching arms. Both Jennie and Matt laughed as Diane jerked and pulled. "What have you done?" the blonde finally groaned out as she looked helplessly at her husband and the brunette.

"That's not the correct question," Jennie said in a cold voice, stepping up to Diane even closer than before and jamming her right forefinger hard in between the blonde's outer labes.

"Unnnghhh!" Diane grunted, closing her eyes and jerking her body back until her ass cheeks slapped against the cold concrete wall behind her. The woman opened her eyes again and looked up. A long, half-inch rope was tied tightly to the leather straps and bound her chafed wrists together and was hauled over a crossbeam that ran the length of the small workshop. The other end of the line was tied to a winch-type wheel with an S-shaped handle sticking out of one side. Diane could see that anyone turning the wheel would pull the line tauter and thus haul whatever was at the other end of the rope up. It was crude and makeshift, but very effective.

As the brunette continued to play with her pussy, the groaning blonde turned her head from side to side and saw racks lined with whips of various sizes and riding crops that gleamed evilly under the bright overhead lights. Diane begged the girl to stop fingering her snatch. She felt that cold digit prying into her hole like a hungry worm while her husband looked on and smirked at the two women.

"Oh, can't you see? He's using you just like he's using me," Diane moaned.

"Quiet, bitch!" Matt grunted as he unfolded his arms and moved quickly to the wheel. Before Diane could say another word, her husband unlocked the crank and turned the wheel twice around.

"UGH!" Diane groaned as she felt her toes leave the floor. Every muscle fiber in her arms ached painfully as her back scraped along the rough faces of the concrete bricks.

"Maybe so, honey. But I'm being used because I like what I get from him. You've been living in a dream world that's unreal. Your old man decided tonight that you'd get your baptism into reality," Jennie said, stepping back and looking at Diane as she dangled helplessly in midair.

"You're both sick! I swear, I'll report the two of you," Diane babbled quietly as the pain concentrated itself in her shoulders.

"You won't be able to report anything by the time we get through with you," Matt said angrily, locking the wheel, then walking quickly to a tall, oaken cabinet where five black leather whips stood. Diane followed her husband's movements with her eyes, inhaling sharply when she saw him fingering the instruments of pain.

"This ought to make her more agreeable," Matt said in a low growl, wrapping his thick, hairy fingers around a whip and pulling it roughly out of its stand.

"Matt! No! I'm your wife, remember? I'm Diane Hathaway, your wife! Please don't! Oh God, what's happening to you? Oh God, don't! DON'T!" Diane shrieked. Her eyes bulged out with horror and disbelief as she watched her husband unravel the long whip and playfully drag the snake-like leather slowly in front of the trembling woman. Diane felt beads of sweat break out on her forehead as her husband sneered at her.

"Lay it into her," Jennie said in a harsh voice, narrowing her eyes as she watched the dangling blonde wriggle desperately in her bonds.

"Hang on, bitch!" Matt said gruffly as he pulled his arm back, dragging the long whip quickly behind his feet. Diane watched in horrified fascination as his arm stretched back then up in a perfect circle while his fingers tightened their grip on the long handle. The whip itself hissed in the air and cracked down like a guided missile, slicing into the tender flesh just above her thunderous jugs.

"Nnnarrgggoow!" Diane shrieked, closing her eyes and jerking helplessly in the air. The screaming woman instinctively hiked up her legs then kicked up, making her body sway forward, then crash back against the wall. While Jennie and Matt laughed scornfully at the moaning blonde, Diane hung her head limply down on her chest and prayed that she would pass out or die. The pain in her shoulders from hanging was making her feel faint. And the lash across her tits had produced a long red welt that throbbed with every beat of the woman's heart.

As Diane was about to beg her husband again to let her go, she heard that horribly familiar whistling of leather through the air. The blonde opened her eyes just in time to see Matt's right arm shoot forward, bringing the whip tip across her right inner thigh. Diane inhaled sharply, filling up her expanding lungs with air as the lash curled around her tender flesh and bit into the area just below the bottom junction of her outer cunt lips.

"Nnnghhhoowww!" Diane shrieked again as she jerked her head up and slammed its back against the bricks behind her. She stared at the wall in front of her, her eyes glazed and dilated with pain while her lips trembled uncontrollably. Diane's nostrils flicked and flared while she breathed irregularly. The fiery heat of the whip sliced into her tender, sweaty flesh, making her body involuntarily jerk again. The blonde jangled and danced from the end of the rope like a puppet. Playfully Matt walked up to Diane and pushed the butt end of the whip hard against her belly.

"Okay. Now who's the stud who was over here fucking you?" he asked in an even, quiet voice.

"There wasn't anybody here," Diane groaned as she turned her head and looked at him. Her hair dangled in front of her eyes as she peered pleadingly at Matt.

"I've got other ways to make you talk, bitch!"

Matt said angrily, shoving the butt hard into her belly and forcing the air out of her lungs.

"Uuuugghhh!" Diane grunted as Matt pulled the handle back and got ready for another flogging. "P-please don – ARRRGGW!" she screamed as the whip cut through the air and slashed across her belly. A piercing high-pitched cry filled the room as another cracking sound echoed off the walls. Diane jerked and twisted helplessly, her body turning first one way, then another as the whip cut into her flesh and propelled the blonde with its own force. Her fingers clawed at the leather thongs that tied her wrists while tears sprang to her eyes and ran down her flushed cheeks.

"Ohhhh," Diane moaned as the flogging finally seemed to stop. Her head hung limply down as she felt every ounce of strength ooze out of her. She was bleeding. She was sure of it, though Diane didn't know where. Every inch of her flesh seemed to be covered with welts and long, red cuts that showed where Matt had beat her mercilessly. In between the whipping sessions, Jennie had dropped to her knees and tongued the blonde's pussy, sticking her narrow pink tongue into Diane's snatch and occasionally biting her sensitive twat lips. The woman dangled, moaning in agony and shame as Matt told Jennie to back away.

"I think she's gonna pass out," the brunette commented as Matt drew back his hand for another attack.

"Nooo!" Diane howled, turning her head away and widening her eyes as she watched Matt leer and bring the lash down hard. Just as the tip of the whip sliced across her right cheek, Diane screamed, then lost consciousness.