Valentine’s Hat-Trick part 3

Buggery always takes it out of you. It’s quite exhausting in an excitingly debauched way but I am running on oodles of nervous energy this morning and I soon feel fully re-charged.

My Lord after his dick had slipped out of my arse just grunted and slapped me hard on my left buttock and barked a command to me to get some coffee.

The single sharp hard slap tingled across my bottom as I smoothed down my little skirt and tottered over to the kettle. I hoped it was a taste of where things might go later as I was well overdue a good spanking.

I clicked on the kettle, not daring to speak. I could feel My Lord’s ire dark and thick behind me, his anger deliciously palpable. I knew I was in for a rough time this morning and all my senses prickled with a nervous, wanton excitement.

So I waited for the kettle to boil, daring not to look round at him. I knew he was standing there, leaning back against the table where I had just been unceremoniously fucked in the arse and I could physically feel his eyes tracking my legs and bottom and back, gauging, appraising lasers coveting what belonged to him.

The kettle clicked. My hands were trembling a little as I reached for it and poured hot water into a coffee mug. The belt was still around my neck, the long loose end dangling down my back. My arse still felt a little sore but not uncomfortably; in fact it felt quite deliciously violated and his come was already seeping out of my anus into my panties.

I dared to turn round with the mug and eyes cast down to the floor, moved towards My Lord and offered him the mug which he took. I stood in front of him, biting my lip, my eyes still cast downward.

‘It’s upstairs for you, right now,’ he suddenly barked, grabbing the end of the belt. He tugged hard at my neck as he walked away from the table and I stumbled in my heels, almost falling over again but managing to stay upright clicking after him as he led me out of the kitchen.

I followed him up the stairs with him still firmly tugging me along with the belt tight around my throat. I make it to the top of the stairs after a few stumbles and he leads me into our bedroom. There he turns and scowls at me, his face like thunder and I feel a charge of apprehensive want spark through my snatch.

He undoes the belt around my neck, standing close to me, his face inches from mine but I dare not reach out and touch him.

‘Undress,’ he snaps in to my face.

I do as I am told, taking off my top and slipping my pink skirt down to my ankles so I stood there wearing only my bra, panties, hold-up stockings and high heels.

‘Now put on what is on the bed and change your shoes.’

Obediently I kick off my pink high heels and step into the nearby pair of gold high heeled sandals. I bend to fasten them, making sure my arse is on full, stretched display to him as I did so. I then reach to the bed and put on what is there: a very short, white smock-like silk dress with think bands of gold sequins around the neck and hem. It is my slave outfit. Then when I am dressed, he slips another nose around my neck- this time of thick, silver chain link like a dog lead- tightens it, then on a long leash of chain he directs me out of the bathroom to the bathroom.

‘Get to work in here,’ he snarls. I want this place spic and span. It’s a bloody disgrace, you’ve let it become an absolute tip, but what do I expect from a little slut like you.’

He then hooks the end of the chain onto a small hook in the tiled wall by the door and I am finally tethered.

Saying no more he leaves the bathroom slamming the door behind him. I get to work with the cleaning products cleaning the sink, toilet, bath and shower and tidying any loose washing away into the laundry basket.

He comes back in about twenty minutes after leaving me and I feel as if I’ve done a good job, the place is quite sparkly, but I know it will not be up to his exacting standards.

In fact he is thoroughly pissed off with what he finds. He grabs me by the hair again and pushes my face over the bath…’see, there, the hairs? The stains? Haven’t I got eyes? Don’t you have a single domestic bone in your body, you useless little tart?  Good for fucking delivery boys though, aren’t you.  You’re very good and dropping your knickers spreading your legs and letting strangers fill your wet cunt with spunk, aren’t you.  Is that all you’re good for, you filthy bitch?’

He roughly pulls me over to the basin by the chain around my neck and I squeal as he pushes my face into it, telling me what a fucking disgrace I am, what a pathetic woman, can’t even clean a sink properly, would rather be fucking delivery boys wouldn’t I, would rather bend over to take some strangers cock into my pussy rather serve her husband properly, rather than do some decent housework for him, wouldn’t I? wouldn’t I?

He is very angry now, whipping himself up into an indignant frenzy and I am making excuses, I am whimpering, I start to beg for him to be lenient with me as he pushes me across the bathroom, as he very roughly grabs my hair again and pushes my face over the toilet bowl and tells me what a dirty, slovenly tart I was, happy enough to take a big cock up my arse, but incapable of cleaning sanitary ware to any level of acceptability.

Standing over me he yanks the chain around my neck and pulls me up from out of the toilet and up onto my feet. The cold metal chain biting into my throat, he pulls me over to the shower cubicle. There, he pulls down the shoulder straps of my smock dress and bra and pulls the cups of my bra down exposing my tits. My nipples are hard, erect, on fire.

He pushes me back into the shower. It’s a large, tiled cubicle big enough for two people [three even…it has been done under other quite, different circumstances which I will no doubt share with you one day], and I stumble and crumple onto its tiled floor. His cock is then out of his trousers but although showing signs of hardening it is still pretty flaccid. I can sense what is coming next. Calling me all of the disgusting names under the sun he stands over me and begins to piss on me. His warm, golden urine flows out with a strong manly force over me, shooting down over my tits then up to my face where I open my mouth to drink some and then it over my hair soaking into my thick hairs and I am covered in his warm, fresh piss, it soaks into my hair, my face, my dress, my stockings.

As soon as he is finished he hardens very quickly and I know it is at the sight of me at his feet, covered in his piss, my tits full my nipples like bullets my red lipsticked lips parted, ready, ready, ready….

And so his hand his behind my head again with a handful of hair and the big tight purple bulb of his cock is an inch from my lips and then rammed in my mouth without any warning he pushes my face onto his cock and it pushes its way to the back of my throat and I gag a little on the huge shaft of man meat in my mouth, his hard cock filling my mouth then it slides back a little and my tongue flickers over the pulsing, hot bulb my teeth nibble gently around his shaft and I suck and he comes in my mouth, spurts of come shoot to the back of my mouth as he spasms with a long moan ejaculating into my willing mouth as I drink down his spunk, my Lord’s spunk and he has now completed the second strike of his hat-trick, orifice number two has been entered and marked and his cock then slips out from between my lips, still semi-hard, and without saying a word, My Lord turns on the shower, and a fresh stream of water cascades down onto me, soaking me, cleansing me and he steps out of the cubicle as I take off my clothes in the shower below the thick flow of water and he stands there,watching me, as I rub the water and soap all over me, and is still watching intently as I eventually snake a finger down to my slit, as I massage my nub of pleasure, as I masturbate myself rubbing and stroking my vagina until I come, remembering that delicious piss cascading over me and then being fucked in the mouth and I then feel the familiar yearning deep in my snatch, the need in there, the need for it it to be rammed by a long, hard cock and as I enjoy my orgasm, as my Lord watches me intently, I know that that relief is not now too far away.

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Valentine’s hat-Trick Part 2

 

….and so I stood in the kitchen feeling wonderfully vulnerable. I know I am in trouble.

I look over my shoulder and see him standing there. Shoeless, his dark hair sexily unkempt, he is wearing a white tee-shirt and black business trousers, the belt unbuckled, and I stare at it, breathing heavily, my thighs bare below my little skirt tingling, my slit a gloop of need, my whole vagina a wonderful, throbbing zone of anxious, expectant desire. A desire to be opened and taken and…yes…hurt. Even my anus was alive with a delicious pulse of dread and excitement and I allowed myself a thought: which orifice was he going to fill with his come first? The answer I knew, now, would come soon enough.

His scowl makes me shiver as I stand back against the kitchen counter. He is taking in my legs, then my tits, then his eyes lock on mine.

I was watching you,’ he spits moving into the kitchen. ‘You dirty little bitch. I saw you you flirting with that delivery boy. ‘

He now stands right in front of me and reaches forward and roughly grabs my thick, permed hair at sharply pulls back my head. I yelp at the stab of pain. He just puts his face closer to mine and scowls all the more; my cherry red lipsticked lips quiver and my long neck is taunt with a fraught but eager tension.

‘Flouncing around in front of him like that,’ she snaps into my face. Flashing those legs and wearing that little skirt leaving hardly anything to the imagination. I bet you managed to bend over as well to flash him your knickers, didn’t you, you fucking slut.’

‘N-n-n-no My Lord,’ I stutter back, ‘I wouldn’t dare do such a course thing.’

‘Yes you would because you are a horny cock teasing little cow, aren’t you?’

‘No, I’m…’

‘Yes you are….DON’T ARGUE WITH ME!!’

He scrunches up my hair ever tighter and yanks my head back further pressing me against the kitchen cabinet, my hands splayed behind me on the worktop.

‘If I hadn’t of been around,’ he spits, ‘that boy would have been in here at a moment’s notice, wouldn’t he. I’d have been out at work, and you with your juices flowing in that needy tight little crack of yours would have had him in here, in my kitchen, and your tits would be out and your knickers down in no time and he would be sucking those tits wouldn’t he, and licking those long legs before bending you over and fucking you on the kitchen table- my kitchen table, wouldn’t he? Admit it, WOULDN’T HE!!’

I whimper from the sharp pain in my scalp from the crushed up handful of hair.

‘Because you don’t care, do you, you bitch. You’d let him fuck you, you’d let his spunk drip out of you onto the kitchen table where it would dry, and you would then be happy for me to come home from work, and sit at that table- even eat at table- where a young man’s spunk stain had seeped into the wood, a spunk stain created by him after lifting up the short skirt and pulling down the knickers of my wife. And you’d secretly fucking laugh at the sight wouldn’t you.’

‘No My lord, I would never, never….’

I try to look away from him. His anger is intense now, his eyes are boring through my skull. He had caught me flirting with the delivery boy- a delivery boy with flowers sent to me by My Lord no less- and he had read my mind, tracking my thoughts about the young man’s cock, how hard and virile it would be, how his strokes in my cunt would have been firm and deep, how my cunt would have tightened around that young shaft of flesh in depraved, unfaithful pleasure, if only My Lord had been out at work this morning…