Suspicions del 2

And now it had all changed. She had been playing bondage games with some stranger, rather than telling him about her fantasies. She had cheated on him, letting someone else tie her up, naked, in their own home. He felt devastated. The pain burned through his soul as if his heart had turned into an erupting vulcano.

He felt sorry for himself. He tried to feel some real anger, wrath, maybe even hate... but he just couldn’t. He still loved her and all he really could feel was sorrow and grief. He wished he could cry, but he couldn’t. His first impulse was to run up to the attic, free her, hug her and try to make it all undone. But he felt that there was no way back. They could never pretend nothing had happened. They had to take it from here, no matter if he liked it or not. He spent an hour trying to get things straight, but he didn’t succeed. He still didn’t know what to think, how to handle things. So he started to cut down the perspective, trying to leave the future to later and focus on the present.

He emptied his tumbler with a grin. Then he recapitulated. His wife had proved to be into bondage. He had never tried it before. She was tied up and naked upstairs. He loved her and found her incredibly sexy. Unable to think any further, he decided to go upstairs and let the lusts of sex rein. He glanced at the clock, noticing it had been an hour and a half since he left her. Beating up some courage he thought of the rough jokes men used to tell in locker rooms. Trying to enter the role of a chauvinistic male he approached his captive wife with an acted selfconfident manner, looking at her as a subject, a tool for his own satisfaction. He had already in the stairs decided not to bother about her satisfaction, only his own.

As she heard him enter the attic, she raised her head and looked at him with large eyes. She had been wondering what would happen. She had felt his raging emotions and she had been unable to tell where it would end. She knew she had hurt him, that he felt betrayed but she didn’t know where that would take him. For the first time in their long and wonderful relationship she was clueless as to what he was thinking and that scared her a lot. She didn’t know how long he had been gone, but she had started to get cold. The raindrops falling from the hook tormented her naked body and she had twisted, trying to catch the drops on her blouse. Now that he came back to her she looked at him, trying to figure out what mood he was in. She saw him move like a hero in some western movie, and she felt his eyes measuring her as if she was a piece of furniture or something else that he owned. She felt humiliated by his cold glances. He had always looked at her with love and respect, now she was nothing but a subject of his. With an almost arrogant look in his face, he walked slowly around her, looking at her suspended body from all angles. Then he promptly stepped close to her and grabbed one of her breasts. He grabbed it in his hand, as if he wanted to crush it. He squeezed harder and harder. First she only felt humiliated, then as pressure began to grow, she felt a sting of excitement, deep down in her subconscious. Her hidden urge for bondage and erotic torture began to waken. She squirmed and tried to look at him, to see what mood he was in, to see whether she dared to enjoy or be frightened. But his other hand took a firm grasp of her hair and turned her head away so she couldn’t get a glimpse of him. Her heart pounded heavily, her thoughts ran wild. What was he doing? She tried to feel some of that familiar and well-known tenderness, but she felt none. The man holding her so harsh was her beloved husband, but he felt like a total stranger. He moved differently, touched differently and acted way out of his usual manner. She began to get frightened. What was he up to? Was he mad? Would he hurt her? Suddenly he let go of her breast only to hit her hard with his open hand on her exposed but. She jerked and screamed, terrified by the muffled noise that came through her gagged mouth. It hit her that she would be unable to call for help if he went wild. No one would hear her in this rain, not with the ball gag in. Before she knew it she felt his hand move down her behind, stroking her sex with cold and hardhanded moves. She was on the brink of panic. She tried to close her legs, which only rendered her another hard blow on her buttocks. She had longed for this, lusted for it, being bound and ravaged by her man. But know it happened for all the wrong reasons and she was scared and wanted out. Pleading into the ballgag, she felt his grip tighten in her hair and his other hand return to its exploring of her private parts. She wanted to cry. Desperately she tried to recognise her man, to find some signs of his love.

Suddenly he let go of her and moved around in front. He stood so close that she couldn’t see his face. She could either look down his trousers or lift her head to stare at his belly. His hands went around her and reached for her breasts. Exploring them untenderly, he ended up rolling her nipples between his thumb and index finger. She jerked and tried to pull away. Her move made her loose balance for a moment and she fell a few inches forward, touching his shirt with her nose.

Suddenly she found it, something familiar. He may have altered his move, his touch and his glances, but he smelled the same. Through the chaos in her mind, the well known scent found its way to her deepest corners. The scent became the key that turned in all the right locks. Through the web of fear, anger, humiliation and confusion, that loved scent sent flashes of recognition, making her remember her unyielding love, her endless faith, and all the tenderness of her latest eight years. Deep inside her love and lust started to feed her senses. It was her chosen one that held her captive and she knew she had to give in, to go with it. If he wanted to hurt her, than the love of her life was a lie, and nothing would matter. She was his, she had always been, and actually she had always been dreaming of him tying her up and using her. Now that happened and if that was to be wrong... There was no alternative to lust. She felt her heartbeat deepen, her breath grow heavy and her whimpers turn into moans of pleasure.

Standing in front of her, squeezing her nipples, making her twist like a worm on a hook, he felt like an empty shell of his former self. He had entered the attic determined to ravage his wife, but he felt cold and empty, not in the mood for sex, nor anything else. If she had chosen someone else, then it was all over. That magic they had shared, that had made him love her and make love to her, was gone and he only felt ridiculous. Rolling her nipples between his fingers he felt her pain, heard her whimpers. But it didn’t give him any satisfaction at all. She was scared of him and, as he thought of it, so was he. What was he doing? He was just about to end it all, release her and ... well he didn’t know what, when suddenly he felt a change. Her moves became different, her sounds familiar. From her gagged mouth came the moans and deep breathing he knew so well. It hit him right in his manhood. Her soft swaying, her nipples stiffening under his fingers, her legs twisting slowly. All of her had changed, all of her appearance had turned from being a scared victim to being a wanting bundle of arousement. Unable to understand the sudden change he hesitated, but the feeling in his stomach, the pounding in his chest and the yearning pressure in his pants took control. Without knowing it he smiled and lingered a few more seconds in his firm grip of her nipples.

Then he moved behind her again. Holding her hips firmly he pressed himself against her, putting pressure on his bulging chrotch. Her moaning and her slow rubbing of her naked sex against his pants, made him almost wild. He knelt down behind her, still with her hands on her hips and started to kiss her soft skin. Her scent was strong and fresh, remembering him of all the good moments they had had. For a while he just looked at her moist lips, glistening between her stretched thighs. Blowing softly he chilled her, making her very aware of his close presence. She quivered by anticipation, trying to move backwards on her toes to make their lips meet. He backed of, slowly, teasingly and she followed until she stood on her tip toes on the edge of loosing her balance. Then he planted a deep craving kiss between her thighs, causing her to jerk spasmodically and howl into her gag. While she was struggling to regain her balance, he went to the suitcase. After some curious examination, he choose a weird looking whip made of a dousin thin leather straps attached to a leather clad handle. At the end of each strap was where a few knots. Wielding it carefully, he let it land with a sharp sound on his arm. He felt a sharp sting, but no real pain. Satisfied he went back to his wife and started to caress her by letting the tips of the whip touch her naked skin.

Her anticipation made her jump each time the leather touched her and her body wiggled slowly from excitement. As he finished his second round encircling her, he lifted the whip and let it fall with a firm blow on her buttocks. She jumped so that she would have fell if she had not been suspended. From her gagged mouth came sounds of passion that he had never heard before. He hit again, and again and again. For each time he stroke harder, spurred by her completely raging passion. As he let the whip land its knotted straps on the glistening lips between her thighs, he feared that the neighbours would hear her savage moans. Finally he could not resist any longer. He ripped his pants open and pushed deep into her. Holding her steady with his hands on her hips he ravaged her in a way that he never thought possible. Her reddened butt pumped fiercely back at him, and she tossed her head back and trough in a frenzy. Before long he felt the long denied stimulation build his excitement to the edge. With a roar he exploded in her, standing cramped by the intensity of his orgasm, trying not to melt down in a heap at her feet. Trembling he slowly moved his aching dick in and out in her squeezing cave. She yelled behind her gag, desperate to get the same relief, pushing herself against him. Slowly regaining control of his mind and his body, he bent forward, pressing his chest against her wet back. Reaching around her he used his right hand to gently massage her longing clit, using the other hand to fondle her breasts. Remaining inside her he felt her squeeze harder and harder, jerking with his every move. Her breath went wild, than almost stopped as he pushed her over her edge and she broke down in a shivering orgasm that ravaged her for almost a minute, before rendering her completely numb, hanging in his arms and her cuffs.

As quickly as he could, he released her and carried her away from the dripping water. He kicked down a spare mattress that stood against the wall and gently he laid her down on it. Laying down behind her he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. As their heartbeats calmed down his thoughts began to race.

- Why did you do it? He asked with a deep sigh.

- Do what?

- Get a lover...

She broke free of his embrace and turned around. Her eyes where wide open from surprise and a suddenly growing insight.

- Is that what you think?

Suspicions del 2