My Husband Earned a Reward Part 2

Continuation from Part 1. Everything presented here was done with consent obtained beforehand. Recap: I let my husband bind, gag, and blindfold me as a reward for reaching a goal of his. Not one of my kinks, but it is one of his.

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It never occurred to me that I could find being whipped to be erotic in the slightest, so I was a bit confused that I was actually turned on by this point. I had always assumed that women being turned on by pain was simply a male fantasy, but the juxtaposition of the whipping and the nipple stimulation was starting to make me understand it.

I just wanted to cum. I’ve never been one to spend a long time edging; once I’m ready, I want efficiency and to cum quickly. This postponement of organism was more difficult to bear than the whipping. When my husband stopped, I thought that he would finally just fuck me so that I could get my orgasm once he was finished, but no such luck.

He pulled me up by the leash and led me to a chair, which he had placed in front of the tripod. After he leaned me over the chair’s back with my breasts hanging in front of it, he ripped my blindfold off, making me stare into the camera’s viewfinder at my own desperate face.

I looked positively ridiculous. A few tears had squeezed out from my eyes, leaving a slight mascara run that ended up being mostly rubbed around by the blindfold. The ball gag left me unable to keep my saliva contained. While I was on my back, it hadn’t been as big of a deal, but now that I was bent forward facing the camera, my drool began to drip from my mouth, which felt incredibly embarrassing.

“You look so fucking hot like that,” my husband whispered. “I wish that everyone could see what a dirty whore you can be. Maybe I’ll just have to post this online later, so that other men can see your slutty face and bust their loads to it.” I knew, of course, that he wouldn’t (we had talked about that beforehand), but the idea of other men seeing me in this vulnerable state sent a thrill of fear down my spine, combined with…excitement? That was an odd thought, as I’ve never considered myself to be an exhibitionist before.

As I began to vocalize a response around the gag, the flogger whipped down on my poor pussy, causing me to jump and moan. But I didn’t have long to worry about that, as I saw in the camera’s viewfinder my husband taking position behind me before he thrust his cock into my sopping wet pussy.

We’ve measured, and my husband has done some research. We determined long ago that his dick is pretty much dead average length. But girth is another story. While I’m sure that there are plenty out there, none of the toys that I’ve ever used has had the girth that my husband does, and as he plowed into my pussy, I felt well and truly stretched. My pussy lips were already tender from the whipping that they’d received, and the invasion of my husband’s cock added another element to the pain and pleasure radiating from my nether regions.

As he pounded me, he pulled on my hair, ensuring that the camera continued to get a good view of my face, with the drool dribbling down in front of my breasts. Each thrust sent shivers through me, and set my breasts to jiggling for the camera.

Even though I was no longer blindfolded, I still felt blindsided when I felt the flogger hit my nipples, which sent a jolt through my body and a muffled scream from my gagged throat. My sensitive nipples, already pinched and prodded, were now being whipped. With each lash, my pussy contracted on my husband’s dick, and I lost the sense that the lack of rhythm in the whipping was intentional. He was just too focused on the task at hand.

It was not long at all before he began to lose control. He quickly pulled out, leaving me with an empty feeling before walking around to my face. “Take it, slut,” he grunted as sticky jizz spurted from his dick all over my face, just missing my eye.

While he panted, recovering from his orgasm, I started trying to speak through the gag. When he untied it, I said: “Would you hurry up and undo my hands, please?” Immediately upon their release, I furiously rubbed my clit, ignoring the camera focused on my face, until I had the most mind-blowing orgasm I had ever had to date. I sagged over the chair, panting from the aftershocks of my orgasm. “That,” I breathed, “will definitely need to happen again sometime!”

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Post script: all events up until the last two paragraphs are true, but the feelings I expressed are fabrications for increased eroticism. The whole ordeal was really not my cup of tea, and we will not likely ever do it again. You definitely should not do something like this without talking it over thoroughly with your partner (when not horny). Sorry for breaking the suspension of disbelief.