Bullied & Cucked & Dommed, #1-#5 by Jon Zelig

Author:Jon Zelig [Zelig, Jon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zelig Media
Published: 2019-06-22T22:00:00+00:00

Bullied & Cucked & Dommed #4:

Hanging On

The Problem of Pleasure

The worst part was the pleasure.

It confused me.

It upset me.

I very much worried that it . . . revealed me.

Bella fucked me, with her double-ended strap-on, with relentless gusto and machine-like precision, thrusting as if to the beats of a metronome that only she could hear—the little brass lock on my chastity device clicking along in duet.

Tony fucked Charla’s ass more raggedly—the pain of his pantyhose-bound cock perhaps slowing him down a little—as, a tripod, she balanced on knees and one hand, the other diligently and wetly busy between her own legs, flapping a rhythmic confirmation that she was gamely rubbing out the pleasure that she was required to take from our mutual violation.

Facing each other, kneeling at the bottom of our mattress, with me on all fours, Charla and I kept bumping heads—that pain minor, compared with what it would have cost us to pull back, me onto Bella’s strap-on, her onto Tony’s massive club of a cock—her sounds, at that point, pretty much restricted to the panting and wheezing gusts of air that whistled through the hole in the bright red ball gag that kept her mouth an improbably wide, and perfect, circle.

She was sweaty, strands of hair sticking to the sides of her face, perspiration dripping down her flanks in rivulets; when I caught the occasional glimpse of her eyes, they were glassy and unfocused, sometimes rolled back a little in her head.

Now and then, Tony snatched at Charla’s hair from behind, jerking her head up, like a turtle craning its neck; when Bella matched that act, with me, she sometimes pushed us a little closer, jerking my head from side to side, making me awkwardly rub noses with Charla.

“An Eskimo kiss for the lovers,” she sneered.

Were we still . . . lovers?

I wasn’t sure.

Things had gone further and deeper—and much faster—than I’d ever thought they would, or perhaps could: I’d thought cucking would enliven my marriage a bit; now I had to seriously consider the possibility that I had simply torched it.

Lovers?

Well . . . we still “had sex,” me and Charla—in a way, or in a series of carefully defined and proscribed ways—but I’m not sure that her masturbating to orgasm, astride my head, while I licked her asshole and she gleefully punished my bound cock could exactly be counted as . . . “making love.”

But—again—the pleasure . . .

That she would take pleasure from the things she did to me, and from the things Tony—and now Bella!—did to her made a certain amount of sense.

“She’s learned,” Bella had said, just few minutes earlier, “that your pain makes her cum.” Our foreheads almost touching, Bella was more or less speaking into Charla’s ear as well as my own. “Haven’t you, bitch?” she grated, grabbing a fistful of Charla’s hair and twisting so they were momentarily face to face, just about nose to nose.

Eyes glassy and frantic, Charla gave a piteous bleat, vigorously nodding her head as much as Bella’s grip would permit.

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