Chapter 17
Ryan
I set the paddle down and walked around to the front of the bench where my gorgeous wife lay, clad in the sexy red lingerie, the lacy thong stretched around her spread knees where I had left it before turning her ass an almost-matching vibrant shade of red.
Heather’s tear-streaked face was a mess of smeared makeup and raw emotion, but underneath all that pain and humiliation, I could see something else.
Something that made my chest tighten with a jumbled mixture of love, anger, and arousal.
Relief.
She was relieved to have finally told me the truth.
After months of lies, months of faking orgasms and denying me parts of herself she’d freely given to another man, the burden of deception had finally been lifted from her shoulders.
The knowledge should have made me feel better, but instead it just stoked the fire of my anger.
“Look at me, Heather,” I commanded, my voice carrying the new authority I’d never used with her before this afternoon, but which had quickly demonstrated its usefulness.
Her green eyes met mine, and I saw myself reflected in them—not the gentle, hesitant husband she thought she’d married, but someone harder. Someone who’d been pushed too far and was finally pushing back.
“The boyfriend you gave your ass to,” I said, letting the name hang in the air between us. “Tell me more about him.”
She flinched as if I’d struck her. “Please, Ryan… sir. You know everything now. Isn’t that enough?”
“No.” I reached down and cupped her chin, forcing her to maintain eye contact. “You’ve been lying to me for our entire marriage. Pretending to be someone you weren’t. I want to know exactly who my wife really is.”
Her breathing was ragged, her body still trembling from the paddling. But I could see the way her pupils dilated when I touched her face, the way she struggled against the restraints to press her thighs together. Even now, even in pain and shame, her body was responding to my dominance.
“He was older, sir,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Twenty-eight when I was eighteen. He said I needed to learn, that I was too innocent for my own good.”
“And you let him teach you.” It wasn’t a question.
“I… yes, sir.” Her cheeks flushed deeper. “I loved it. I loved the way he took control, the way he didn’t ask permission for anything. He made me feel…”
“Feel what?”
“Desired. Used. Like I was exactly what he needed.” The words tumbled out in a rush, as if she couldn’t hold them back any longer. “He called me his little ass girl, and I… God help me, I liked it.”
The confession hit me with stunning force. My modest wife, whom I’d treated with such careful respect, had spent a year being degraded and used by another man. As his obedient ass girl. And she’d loved every minute of it.
“Is that what I should call you?” I asked, my voice dangerously quiet. “My little ass girl?”
Her entire body shuddered at the words, and I saw her pussy clench visibly. The response was immediate and undeniable—this was what she craved, what she’d been denying herself and me for months.
“I don’t know,” she sobbed. “I… maybe, sir?”
Heather
“Alright,” Ryan said, his voice full of a degrading sarcasm that set my nervous system alight even as my mind recoiled. “Congratulations, Heather. You’re my ass girl now. And when I claim your asshole you’re going to forget all about your ex.”
The words sent a jolt of electricity straight through my core, and I couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped my lips. Hearing those degrading words from Ryan’s mouth—my kind, respectful husband—made something deep inside me, deeper than anything in my body, seem to clench with shameful arousal.
“I can see that you like that,” he observed, his voice taking on a detached tone that reminded me of Master Paul. “Your body really doesn’t lie, does it, Heather?”
I shook my head frantically, tears still streaming down my cheeks. “I don’t want to like it,” I sobbed. “I tried so hard to be different for you, to be the kind of wife I thought you deserved.”
“The kind of wife I deserved,” Ryan repeated, his hand still cupping my chin. “You mean the kind who lies about what she needs? Who fakes orgasms and denies her husband the pleasures she owes him?”
His words cut deep, but I couldn’t argue with them. That was exactly what I’d done—created a false version of myself that I thought would make him happy, while secretly craving the very things I’d told him were off limits.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, sir.”
Ryan’s eyes studied my face with an intensity that made me feel completely exposed. “Sorry isn’t enough anymore,” he said quietly. “It’s time for me to claim what’s mine.”
My heart hammered against my ribs as he stepped back and began to untie the belt of his black robe. The fabric fell open, and then he was shrugging it off his shoulders completely, letting it pool on the floor behind him.
“Oh, my God,” I breathed, my eyes going wide as I saw my husband’s cock for the first time—really saw it, up close and fully erect in a way that our gentle lovemaking in the dark had never allowed.
It was enormous. Thick and long, jutting proudly from his body with a commanding presence that made my mouth go dry.
In all our months of marriage, I’d felt its size inside me, but never truly comprehended what Ryan was working with.
Now, bound and helpless before him, I could see every intimidating inch.
“I know it’s even bigger than Master Paul’s,” Ryan said, his voice carrying a satisfaction that sent shivers through me. “I’ve been concerned about hurting you with it, but no longer.”
Fear crashed over me in waves. Master Paul had been large enough to make me struggle to take him in my mouth, but Ryan… Ryan was something else entirely. The thought of him using that massive cock on my body, especially in the way Chad had trained me to accept, made panic rise in my throat.
“Sir,” I whispered, my voice shaking, “your cock is the biggest one I’ve ever seen. I want to be good for you, I really do, but I don’t think I can take it inside my mouth or my bottom. It will be very uncomfortable.”
Even as the words left my mouth, I recognized what I was doing. Some rebellious part of me was testing him, seeing if he would back down the way the old Ryan might have. Seeing if this new dominance was real or just an act he was putting on for the trainers.
Ryan’s eyes hardened, and I knew immediately that he understood exactly what I was trying to do.
“You’re going to get used to having my cock in your mouth and your ass whether you like it or not,” he said, his voice carrying an absolute finality that made my pussy clench with shameful arousal. “Your comfort isn’t my concern anymore, Heather. Your obedience is.”
The words struck me forcefully, but underneath the fear was something else—a deep, primal satisfaction that he’d passed my test. This wasn’t the hesitant man I’d married. This was someone who would take what he wanted from me, someone who wouldn’t be swayed by my protests or fears.
“Now get me ready for your ass, ass girl,” my husband said roughly. “Open that pretty mouth.”
I opened my mouth, my lips parting as Ryan stepped closer.
The massive head of his cock brushed against my lips, and I felt myself tremble at the contact.
This was my husband—the man I’d married, the gentleman who’d always asked permission for everything.
But the thick shaft pressing against my mouth seemed to belong to someone else entirely, someone who would take what he wanted without apology.
“Show me what Chad taught you,” Ryan commanded, his voice rough with authority. “Take it deep.”
I parted my lips wider, putting my tongue out as I’d been taught.
Ryan thrust in slowly, one big hand guiding his massive penis and the other at the back of my head.
He was salty, musky, overwhelmingly male in a way that made my head spin.
As I received him into my mouth, deeper and deeper, muscle memory kicked in from all those sessions with Chad, my throat automatically relaxing to try to accommodate his size.
But Ryan was so much bigger. I gagged almost immediately, tears springing to my eyes as I struggled to take even half of his length.
The restraints kept me perfectly positioned for his use, unable to pull back or control the depth as he began to enjoy me, his hips moving back and forth to drive his cock in and out.
“Deeper,” he growled, his hands tangling in my hair. “I know you can do better than that.”
I fought against my gag reflex, forcing myself to relax as Chad had taught me. Slowly, agonizingly, I managed to take more of him, my throat stretching around his girth until I thought I might pass out from lack of air.
“Better,” Ryan said with satisfaction after a few more thrusts. “That feels very good, ass girl. Now show me how you lick a man’s balls.”
He pulled back, his cock sliding from my mouth with a wet sound that made my cheeks burn with shame.
But I obeyed, extending my tongue to lap at his heavy sac, remembering how Chad had demanded this particular service.
I worked my tongue around each testicle, taking them into my mouth one at a time while Ryan groaned above me.
“Remarkable,” I heard Dr. Hamelin say from somewhere behind me. “She really is exceptionally well trained.”
“Indeed,” Master Paul agreed. “The boyfriend was obviously quite thorough in his instruction.”
The matter-of-fact discussion of my skills made my face burn with humiliation, but I couldn’t stop the way my body responded to their approval. I was performing like the trained whore I’d tried so hard not to be, and some twisted part of me reveled in their recognition of my abilities.
Ryan’s hand suddenly reached over my back, his fingers finding my exposed pussy without warning. I cried out around his cock as he roughly seized my most intimate flesh, his palm cupping me possessively while his fingers explored my wetness.
“So ready,” he murmured, his touch becoming more insistent. “My little ass girl is dripping wet from sucking my cock.”
The degrading words combined with his touch sent electricity through my entire body. I could feel myself climbing toward the edge with terrifying speed, my body responding to his dominance in ways it never had to his gentle lovemaking.
The sharp beep of Master Paul’s handheld cut through the air.
“She’s about to come,” Master Paul announced, studying the screen.
“Good,” Ryan said, his voice thick with satisfaction. “I want her to come. I want to see what my wife looks like when she really lets go.”
His hand squeezed my pussy harder, his fingers working my clit with devastating precision while his other hand gripped my burning bottom, pressing into the tender flesh he’d paddled so thoroughly.
The combination of pleasure and pain, of his commanding voice and possessive touch, shattered the last of my resistance.
I exploded around his fingers, my body convulsing against the restraints as the most intense orgasm of my life tore through me.
I screamed around his cock, my voice muffled but desperate, my entire world narrowing to the jolts of sensation that seemed to go on forever.
This wasn’t the gentle flutter I’d faked during our lovemaking—this was raw, primal, honest in a way that left me completely exposed.
“Please,” I gasped when I could finally speak, my voice hoarse and broken. “Please, sir, I need your cock in my pussy. I need you to fuck me properly.”
But Ryan was already moving behind me, his hands positioning himself at a different entrance entirely. I felt the broad head of his massive cock pressing against my bottom, and terror shot through me even as my body still trembled from the aftershocks of my climax.
“No,” he said firmly, his voice carrying absolute authority. “I need to claim your ass first, Heather. I need to take the part of you that you gave to another man and make it mine completely.”
I felt him begin to push forward, and I knew there would be no gentle preparation, no careful easing into this violation. My husband was going to take my ass with the same ruthless determination he’d shown in everything else today, and I was helpless to stop him.
“Oh… oh, it hurts, sir,” I whimpered, my body tensing despite my efforts to relax.
“Yes,” Ryan agreed matter-of-factly. “I’m sure it does. But you’re going to take every inch anyway, because that’s what good ass girls do for their husbands.”