Nessi in the Dark Read online

  Nessi in the Dark

  (The Wife Becomes a Submissive Slut)

  A Rough BDSM Erotica Story with First Anal Sex

  by Danielle Gold

  Copyright © 2017 by Bondage and Domination Erotica Publishing, All Rights Reserved

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  I wondered if I should have removed my bra and panties even though the thought only gave me anxiety because it was too late to actually do that. I went over the instructions in my mind. Anthony hadn’t told me to get undressed. He’d told me to take of my dress. I was certain of it. We’d gone to dinner. We’d made a bet. I lost the bet and he won me. It was that simple. I had to do anything he said, completely under his control. If I failed in any way, my husband would have the right to go through the process all over again.

  We weren’t weird.

  We both had incredibly busy lives, and since we couldn’t manage a weekly date night in order to keep the spark alive, we instead did a three day weekend every month. My mother took the kids. Once a month, on Thursday, we went to dinner. At dinner, one of us would propose a bet. Whoever lost did whatever the other one wanted for the weekend. I’d won and we’d had a threesome with another woman, gone to a nudist colony, gone to an amusement park and had sex as well as we could on the rides, and many other tasks. He’d won and we’d had sex on the balcony of a hotel where anyone could have watched. We’d done these monthly excursions for five years now but this was the first time the winning bet meant something really kinky.

  I was his sex slave for the weekend.

  I was to call him Sir and he said there would be whips and stuff like that.

  I had a safe word! That scared me more than anything. If I needed a way to stop things, it meant things were going to be intense. Every one of our weekends was exciting, and we both had high-paying and high-powered jobs. So, the intensity of these monthly excursions was really critical for us to blow off steam. This was the first time, though, that the intensity seemed overpowering even before it started! I was frightened. Hell, I was even terrified. Oddly, I actually felt more turned on than I ever had before. I would never consider myself submissive. If anything, I had a personality strong enough to match my husband’s. That said a lot because Anthony’s personality was very, very, very strong and dominant. So, I had no idea why it turned me on so much to think of being controlled.

  Part of me wondered if the fear of the situation was just as important to my arousal as the fact that there would be sex. I lay on the bed on my stomach, just as instructed. I was in a bedroom, part of a hotel suite, and I wore stockings, panties, heels, and my bra. That was it. The cocktail dress was on the floor and I was in absolute darkness. I was pretty sure I’d been there for about five minutes but it felt like an hour already.

  Okay, this had to be the absolute best of all the weekends. Sure, I was frightened but I was aroused in a way I had never been aroused before. I was looking forward to being spanked and whipped or whatever. I was looking forward to being directed and corrected. I was looking forward to that just as much as I looked forward to the actual sexual activity but not in the way I might look forward to dinner and a movie or something. I thought of the domination stuff the same way I might have thought about foreplay or even the sex itself!

  Dear God! I realized as I lay there that Antony’s command to turn the lights off after I took off my dress had to be the most intense of all the commands. The darkness made the passage of time impossible to detect. I glanced toward the nightstand and realized he had removed the hotel’s digital clock. So there I was in the dark absolutely unable to understand at all what the hell was going on or when it was going on.

  My ass cheeks suddenly exploded in pain as I heard the unmistakable sound of leather slamming over them. Jesus! I hadn’t even noticed Anthony entering the room but as I yelped he brought the belt down again and once again the pain shot through me. I yelped another time and then, surprisingly, let out a soft moan. I couldn’t really understand why I did because the two spanks hurt like hell. On the other hand, the moan definitely represented an accurate description of my emotional state. The spanks from the belt had me wildly aroused despite the sting from them. Anthony let the belt fall twice more and the pain was horrible but after my yelps, I moaned again just the same.

  This moan, though, was more than psychological. When the belt hit me, pain exploded like it had before. In fact, it was even worse. However, immediately following the spank I felt unmistakable sensations over my pussy, as though I’d been stroked. I didn’t understand that at all but another spank fell and again the pain was immediately followed by a throbbing caress of pleasure. He brought the belt down four or five more times and by the end I didn’t yelp any more but just moaned.

  I heard the clinking of the belt buckle and turned my head to try to see him but Anthony admonished, “Eyes forward little girl.”

  Jesus! My arousal spiked to where I actually thought I might cum. It came just from the tone of his voice. Sure, we had done roleplaying where he pretended to be an intruder or where he was a policeman or some other person with authority. This was nothing like that. This was Anthony and he wasn’t playing the role of my… I guess my Sir. He wasn’t playing that role. He actually WAS that person. He was my Sir and I was his submissive little girl and the power in his voice felt exquisite.

  The belt came back down, this time over my thighs. It stung a great deal more than it had stung on my ass but for some reason the instantaneous transformation into pleasure between my legs was stronger. I heard noises that sounded like he was putting his belt back on, the leather sliding over the fabric. “Removed your bra and your panties, little girl.”

  I gasped at the command and moved, wishing I could see him and wondering how he’d seen me well enough to spank me. “Okay,” I said and pulled off my bra and tossed it to the floor as I sat up.

  Then I cried out as pain shot from my nipple. I recognized it as a hard pinch. “You are to address me properly, little girl.”

  I gasped from the lingering pain at my nipple, the pain from my poor ass as I sat up, and mostly from the intense arousal that shot through me at being scolded and even physically punished. “Yes, Sir,” I said breathily, realizing I felt hornier than I’d felt in a very long time. That didn’t make a lot of sense given the pain but I didn’t feel any need to try to understand it.

  I slipped my panties down next, and they hurt my poor ass cheeks and my thighs but that only increased the arousal as they slid over my stockings and my heels. I dropped them to the floor and waited. Damn! It was pitch black! How the hell did he even see me to pinch my nipple? How could he know if I obeyed in the first place?

  “Get on your knees, little girl,” he said.

  I felt a thrill at the command and, I supposed, at the thought of kneeling in front of him. The subservience as though he were a king and I was his subject felt like more caresses. Of course, I couldn’t really be sure of where in front of him was. I scooted forward and stepped from the bed, and the comforter felt like sandpaper on my reddened ass cheeks. I let out a soft whistle and barely remembered to say, “Yes, Sir.” I fell to my knees and peered into the darkness.

  I felt his hands on my shoulders, applying pressure. He pushed until my ass rested on my heels. “Like this, little girl,” he said. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  I obeyed instantly, and this time responding “properly” came naturally. I felt
his hands trail along my arms to my wrists. Then, one hand disappeared and returned a moment later. I felt cold metal and heard a click and then another. His hands left but mine were bound together by what had to be handcuffs. I took a deep breath that came out in a soft moan as the enormity of the situation occurred to me. I knelt in front of my husband. I was helpless and handcuffed. He’d already cause me a great deal of pain.

  God I was turned on.

  I was so fucking turned on I thought I would explode.

  We were adventurous, Antony and me. There was no way anyone could suggest we were sticks in the mud or anything like that. We were absolutely adventurous and completely energetic in our sex life. This was still brand new and I never would have anticipated enjoying it. I knelt there in a position of weakness and dependence I never would have imagined and thought about how much pain I would get to endure.

  Get to!

  I really couldn’t understand why in the world the thought of more pain turned me on. I certainly couldn’t understand why in the world I treated it like some kind of privilege instead of something terrible. I understood, though, that my body was on fire with pain and somehow that meant it was also on fire with pleasure. I also understood that I desperately wanted to please my husband. I wanted to please him in a way I ordinarily wouldn’t. Oh, I always wanted him happy but this was different. This was a definite and almost desperate desire for him to be pleased and for me to be the object of his pleasure.

  Totally new for me.

  I didn’t really understand it. Sure, I had felt good about myself for making him happy. I supposed that was something common to all people in a loving relationship. I’d felt wonderful when he had a good birthday or when I did something special for him and he liked it. That wasn’t strange at all. That was typical, I supposed. I quite enjoyed that, actually. It made me very happy when something I did made him happy.

  But I never felt like my purpose was to make him happy.

  My purpose.

  That was exactly how I felt now as I knelt with a still stinging ass cheeks, handcuffed wrists, and no ability to see at all. Oddly, the only reason I wanted to see was so I could see my husband, so I could see his face and be sure that he was pleased with me and excited with what was going on. I had no idea what else he had in store for me but instead of that nervous fear being front of mind, it rested far in the back. In the forefront was just the desire that he be happy, that he be pleased.

  God, I wanted him to cum!

  I mean, I always wanted him to enjoy sex but like any women most of my hopes rested on the idea that he’d be able to hold back until after I came. Now, though, it felt almost like making him cum was as good as getting to cum myself. I tried to think back on some of the erotica I’d read but almost all of it had to do with sexual acts. Nothing really got into the mind of the characters. Of course, I hadn’t really read anything about this kind of stuff, not actual tied up and helpless bondage with belts and whips and chains and stuff.

  Yeah, yeah. It was handcuffs and his belt but that wasn’t the point. The point was that I never read about any of this kind of sexy stuff. I didn’t even have a fake frame of reference here. My God, though, I loved it. I stared into the darkness and wondered if he stood in front of me. Perhaps he stood behind me or beside me. My entire body seemed like it was on high alert just waiting for the next bit of stimulation, the next thing that would push me to another crazy lust and pain filled level of arousal.

  I moaned loudly suddenly and it took a moment to realize my hands fingertips played along my nipple. He was behind me, reaching around to tease at my breast, just one right now, and I could feel his breath hot at my neck. He pinched my nipple firmly but not painfully and then pulled it so it stretched forward as I felt the most wonderful sensations from the attention.

  And then the pain.

  I felt something pinch like hell on the nipple and his fingers went away. I gasped and couldn’t say a word as a sharp pain made my nipple the only part of my body that existed at all, everything else disappearing right into the darkness. I tried to breathe and then felt a wash of panic as his fingers teased and pulled at my other nipple. Even though I surmised it was coming, it still felt surprising and even shocking when that nipple, too exploded in pain. I managed a little yelp and Antony’s voice was interesting when he chuckled and said, “Those are nipple clamps, little girl. I knew you’d like them.”

  Like them?

  My nipples felt like they were on fire, hard little bullets that had just been fired! The pain was extraordinary and… And I realized with a great deal of surprise that I did indeed like them. “Thank you, Sir,” I breathed out, amazed at how easily I fell into this slave-like role and liked it. I felt Antony’s lips graze my neck and he said, “Good girl.” For reasons I certainly didn’t understand, praise for willingness to endure pain thrilled me in ways I was pretty sure I’d never been thrilled before. Antony backed away and I stared into the darkness as my body again confused me with contradictory sensations and my mind filled with just as many contradictory attempts to process them. Pain, pleasure, arousal, fear—they all worked together in me, bathed in absolute desire to please Antony with everything I did in any way he wanted me to please him. I sure as hell didn’t understand it at all but I also sure as hell didn’t want it to stop or even to slow down in the slightest.

  I didn’t hear anything or feel anything for a moment. I thought I sensed movement but I certainly couldn’t be sure. I took a deep breath and tried to determine if I should say anything or do anything but I had no idea what it would be. So I just remained there, kneeling and staring into the darkness and still feeling the soft, warm soreness over my ass cheeks, completely overpowered by the intense and stinging pain coursing through my body and originating at my nipples. God! It all hurt so damned much but I not only tolerated it I even found myself enjoying it. No. Maybe enjoying it wasn’t the right way to put it but the point was I craved it. I craved it desperately. I wondered what else he could do and even more importantly, I hoped like hell he enjoyed it and wasn’t just doing it for my benefit.

  My benefit?

  Holy shit! Antony had me shaking from the pain and involuntarily pulling at my handcuffs so even my wrists hurt. Nonetheless, I still thought of it as something he was doing for me, which wasn’t just incredible to think about but had me desperate to prove my appreciation and my love for him. Fuck! I forgot what that thing was called when somebody was kidnapped and ending up loving the kidnapper but I sure as hell felt like I understood it more than I ever had before. Of course, Antony hadn’t kidnapped me. He was my husband for fuck’s sake. God!!!!!

  And then I felt it.

  I felt the blunt head of Antony’s lovely cock against my lips and I sighed happily as I opened up and flicked my tongue out and then, almost lovingly, took him into my mouth. I’d probably given Antony a thousand blowjobs but I couldn’t think of a single time when I felt so much love as I let my lips travel down his shaft and swirled my tongue around his shaft with a great deal of joy and thankfulness for the opportunity. The attitude, to me, was filled with meaning. Hell, I’d never thought of sucking my husband off as some kind of an opportunity but I sure as hell did now. It was somehow liberating, too. I couldn’t understand why it felt liberating but it did. It was like I was free to express my love to him without thinking about what it meant, if there was a scorecard, or if he could disappoint me by not doing something later.

  It was the ability to show love completely and selflessly.

  Well, maybe it wasn’t so selfless because I sure as hell enjoyed everything that was happening. I enjoyed it far more than I ever would have imagined enjoying it. It felt wonderful, absolutely wonderful and I thought it had to be the most exciting sexual encounter I had ever experienced with my man, hands down. I really felt like I could achieve orgasm just sucking him off, and I’d never felt anything like that before. I didn’t understand it but I loved it. I moved deep, deeper than I’d gone in the past. I’d always fou
nd deep throat uncomfortable but for some reason I really felt the need to do it, to surprise him with my desire and ability to please him. I felt his cock against the opening of my throat and kept going, fighting down the natural inclination to gag. My eyes watered but I fought the gags. Oddly, the difficulty the depth caused me felt almost good the same way the spanking and such had felt good. I had to come up for air but as soon as I got a gulp or two of oxygen, I went deep again. This time, his cock entered my throat a little more easily. I was damned determined to get all the way, and I kept pushing forward. I got to within an inch or so of the base, and I desperately wanted more.

  It was not to be.

  I felt his hands on my shoulders and suddenly my body bent over the bed. I gasped from the sudden change in position and stared out into the darkness. I could feel the smoothness of the sheets against me and I strained against the handcuffs, feeling particularly exposed and vulnerable in this position. He landed several hard spanks with his hand on my ass and I yelped and then immediately moaned. Then, I gasped because I felt him position his cock.

  Not against my pussy.

  Instead, I felt his dick up against the virgin opening of my ass. I had never had anal sex, not before Antony and not with him. I hadn’t even had a finger inside there! I was frightened, frankly, but I also felt an odd sense of desire, desire a lot like what prompted me to suck his cock the way I did. It was powerful and almost overwhelming. I didn’t care if it hurt, didn’t care if I hated it. I just HAD to give my husband what he wanted. I lifted my ass just a little in anticipation just in case he hesitated on my behalf but it seemed somehow wrong to verbalize anything more than, “I am yours, Sir.”

  He said, “Good girl,” and it was strange that him saying those words filled me with absolute joy. Then, he thrust forward, slipping his shaft into my tiniest hole, and filled me in an entirely different way. The pain was extraordinary and if I weren’t already in the dark, I might have been blinded by it. Still, it didn’t occur to me to ask him to stop. I didn’t want him to stop. I didn’t know if I was learning something entirely new about myself or if something else was happening but I loved that I was… submitting? Was that the word? I loved that I submitted to him so completely that he could take my ass. I adored it.