Daydreams & Distractions ☼ Cheated

A Daydream & Distraction by Redbud

“Are you coming?” you call.

Your ass is getting sore. You’re on the bathroom counter. Not only does the rope tie your wrists and ankles together, but it ties them to either side of the room. Your legs are spread. You’re wide. You can’t move.

“Where are you?” you call again when he doesn’t answer.

You thought you heard the hotel room door open and close but you’re not sure. You feel the first needle pricks of panic. What if he had a heart attack? What if he just fucking left? You struggle but can’t move. What if you’re stuck like this? You imagine the maid the next morning. You hope to god it’s a woman. She’ll find you like this, naked, spread, ready to be fucked and humiliated.

“Answer me!” You call again, but not too loud. You’re still afraid. What if someone in the next room hears you? You knew this wasn’t a good idea.
The bathroom door opens. Whatever you meant to say, you forget. It’s not him. It’s her. His wife.


“What the fuck!” you almost shout. “What are you doing here?”
“I have a better question,” she says. The bitch is smiling. “Seeing as how you’re with my husband. What are you doing here?”

“Where is he?” you ask. You’re panicky. This is worse. You want to close your legs. You want to hide.
“He’s behaving himself,” she answers. “Take a look.”
You look through the bathroom door. He’s kneeling, back straight, hands behind him. “What the fuck?”
“He’s a sub,” she says. “Which is kind of curious, you know, finding you like this. Does he always tie you up?”
“Just fucking untie me!” you snap.
“Cause,” she continues, “I wouldn’t have guessed. Maybe it’s a new side of him. Or maybe it was always there, I just never let him express it.”

“Untie me.” You try to keep your voice even but it’s shaking. She’s standing in front of you. She’s looking at you – all of you. The way a woman has never looked at you, and you’re helpless. She’s looking at your tits, your pussy, your flat abdomen, your legs. You’re spread open in front of her and humiliated. This isn’t how you want another man’s wife to see you, spread like a craven sex object.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I found you?”
“I don’t care.”
“Typical blond,” she says. “The whole thing’s above your head anyway. But this?” She pinches your nipple.
You gasp and spit. “Don’t touch me!”
“Au contraire, this is what you’re good for,” she says. “Legs spread. Tits hard. Ready to be spunked in your tight belly. That’s a good blond.”

‘Fuck you!” You scream. “Let me go!”

She slaps you. “I don’t know what he sees in you,” she snarls. “But I’m going to find out.”
“Don’t!” You’re panicking again.
She smiles at you and disappears from the bathroom. You glare at her husband. “Get up!” you shout at him, but he only lowers his head.

When she returns, you struggle, you twist, but you can’t close your legs. You can’t hide your pussy. It’s ready. Open. Your lifted thighs are like an invitation. She moves between your legs. She’s not in a hurry. She’s smiling. Fuck! She’s wearing a corset. Her breasts are firm and round above the top of the corset. Her nipples stand upright. She’s a wearing a strap-on between her legs.

“What are you doing?”
“I want to see what he sees in you.”
“You’re raping me.”
“That and I want him to know that you’re nothing special. You’re just a blond slut who would come on anything that pricked her belly – including a woman’s cock.”
“And then what?” you ask. “What happens when it’s over and I fucking have you arrested?”

“You’re not going to.”

“The hell I won’t!”
She slaps you again. You want to kill her, but you’re the helpless one and she’s looking at you just the same. She reaches beside you – your bluetooth. “Look at me bitch.” You do, not wanting to be slapped again. She hooks the bluetooth over  your ear. “I’m curious,” she says. “I don’t think you’ve ever seen another women naked.”

“No,” you shake your head.
“And I don’t think another woman has ever seen you naked.”
“No.” You start to cry.
She runs a finger’s tip upward between your pussy lips. “So this is the first time you’re going to be fucked by a woman?”

“Please don’t.”
“How do you know you won’t like it?”

“Let me go.”
It’s your phone. She punches in a number. The phone dials. “It’s your husband,” she says.
Your stomach rolls.
She’s looking at you, gaze meeting gaze.

“This is your chance,” she says. “Tell him where you are. Tell him why you’re here. Tell him what’s going to happen to you. Tell him to come and save you.”

At first you’re speechless.
But he knows it’s you. He speaks your name. Damn it. “Hi,” you say, stupidly.

“What’s up?”

“I just… I just…” You stutter, then you stiffen as the lips to your bound and opened belly part. She’s slowly pushing the strap-on inside you. But you have to say something. “I miss you,” you say inanely as the black thing slowly fills your belly. It’s huge. You can feel it’s coolness slipping upward and still deeper into your being.
“Yeah?” he asks, his voice changing, deeper. “Where are you?”

But you know what you have to do.
“I want you,” you moan, exhaling as the thing bottoms out. It’s all you can think to say. Her dildo, her cock, isn’t like a man’s. It’s hard and doesn’t give. It’s like a long rod that impales you and owns your belly. It begins to vibrate. Her eyes roll along with yours.

“I want to fuck you.” Your voice shudders with her first thrust.

“Two more days, baby,” your husband answers. “Fuck, just two more days, baby!”
Your fingers curl with the depth of her thrusts.
You frown as if you could expel the thing inside you. But that’s not what your body was designed for. Instead, you receive her thrusts even more deeply. Your belly produces a dark wetness the slickens and invites the plastic cock.

“I wish…” You gasp with her thrust. “I wish you could fuck me now.”

“Are you masturbating, baby?”
“Yeah,” you lie.
“Me too,” he says. “I’m imagining you on your hands and knees.”
Your head is jerked upward. Her hand is in your hair. She wants to see you orgasm.
“Fuck me from behind,” your breathe, but you need to get off the phone. “Come in me!” You beg. “My belly needs your come.”

“Are you coming?” he asks.
“Yes,” you moan, lying again. “I’m coming on your cock. I can’t help it. Shove my head down. Force my ass in the air. Fill my cunt. Yank my hair!”
The woman fucking you smiles. You blush. She snaps her finger and her husband watches you. She wants him to see that you’ll come for anybody. It’s not him. There’s nothing special about his cock. You’re a cunt. This is what you’ll do when your thighs are spread and your pussy is rounded by a cock. This is what you do when anything is moving in and out of your belly.

“Please,” you beg. “Come in me!” But who are you talking to?

“I want to come with you.”
No! Your toes spread. Jesus, you just want him off the phone. You hate him. You almost want to tell him. I’m being fucked by a woman! Where the fuck are you? Where have you been? Why am I fucking talking to you on the phone? Why am I always talking to you on the phone? But all you say is, ‘Come!’ You beg. “Just come!”

Your lover is smiling at you. You can’t control your own body.
You really are a slut, but there’s something else that she likes. She knows it before you do.

“I’m pushing you down on your stomach, baby,” groans your husband. “I want to fuck you until my cock comes out of your mouth. Can you hear my pelvis slapping your ass from behind? I’m yanking your hair. I’m making you arch and spread your legs. I’m stuffing a pillow under your groin to make sure you can taste my come when I squirt in your pussy.”
Your eyes begin to roll.
“You’re gonna’ make me come.” But your voice is barely a whisper and you no longer know who you’re talking to.

You’ve never seen a woman’s tits.
You’ve never seen a woman having sex.
You didn’t know a woman could do this to you.
One hand is still in your hair, her other is pinching your nipple. You twist but your legs stay open. It’s all you can do not to scream with the pain of her pinching. All the while, the dark black cock continues to move in and out. Your belly helplessly contracts once, and then again.

She lets go of your nipple. Her thumb finds your bottom lip. You lick.
“Come!” your husband snarls.
“Come…” says your lover, suddenly soft and gently. This isn’t what you were expecting. Her movements are abruptly slow and gentle. Her hips are moving with a soft feminine swing. Her cock slides, smoothly and easily in and out of you. She’s gentle. She’s forgiving you. She’s kissing you.

Your tongues meet.

Then she’s kissing your neck and lower, your shoulder blade. Then she takes your stinging nipple gently between the warmth of her lips. And the sight of her lips, a woman’s lips, closing redly around your nipple elicits a long, shuddering surrender.

Your orgasm tightly embraces the base of her cock.
The back of your head strikes the mirror as your bound body tries to arch.
If you could close your legs you would, but the ropes hold you. There is nothing you can do as she continues to thrust in and out of your orgasm. A last long spasm lifts your ass off the counter even as the black dildo continues to split the shaved, white V between your legs.

Your lover ends the phone call.
She finally and gently lets go of your hair.
You can see her tight abdomen still clenching with her own fading orgasm. As her long black cock inches slowly out of you, it glistens and drips with your compliance.

She looks like no other lover you’ve ever had. She’s beautiful in a way that a man can never be. You want to comfort her. She brings her breast to your mouth and you suck.

“Good girl,” she coos. “Good girl.”

You want her gentleness.
You’re starved for it. You want her to forgive you.
And when she finally unties you, you fall to your knees and, gazing at her, kiss her cock.
“That’s a good little sub,” she says.
You want praise, anything, and she knows. She smiles. “I begin to see what he likes about you.”

She slaps you before you can finish.
“But my feelings are hurt. You? You didn’t know any better. You’re just a slut. But now you do. You will never, never, never, never, never touch my property without my permission. He belongs to me. When you touch him, it will always be in my presence. The next time he fucks you, slut, it will be with my permission. He will fuck you with your little ass in the air, slut, because that’s the only posture you dare assume in my presence.

You’re crying.
“Stop crying,” she says. “You’re mine now. Lick your come off the floor.”
You do. Grateful. So grateful.
She leaves the bathroom and as you lick your come off the floor you hear the cries of her husband’s punishment.

You’ve never wanted anyone’s love as much as you’ve wanted hers.

And you’ve never been so happy.

☼ William Crimson
February 3, 2011

Categories: Bondage, Cheat, Dominance & Submission, Erotica, First Time, Forced Orgasm, Lesbian, Nonconsensual, Oral Sex, RedBud, Reluctance, Rough Sex, Sex Toy, VoyeurTags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,


  1. mei mei

    not quite what i expected, but i liked it… particularly towards the end. That mixture of tenderess and cruelty is irresistible in a domme and the timing was just right to make you uncertain as to which aspect would come next.

    Not sure what I think about the use of 2nd person just because the protagonist is kind of unsympathetic but 1st would possibly be even more alienating. It’s odd, 3rd person in same sex stories always reads slightly stilted to me due to pronoun/epithet use unless it’s part of a longer piece where you actually care enough about the characters that names mean something. Anyway, thanks for the link.

    • Yeah, I decided not to use names in my own short erotic stories. Names seemed pointless and for just the reasons you gave.

      Would you like me to try writing F/F BDSM? I would consider it for OL, if only because I’ve never really connected with the whole SM theme.

    • mei mei

      Well… I think people should write what they choose, but if you choose to… :)

      Interesting that you say you’ve never really connected with SM, since you mentioned somewhere else sharing a lot of Raziel’s preferences and his non-con work, to me, reads pretty much like SM although without SM type language (which I think makes it more accessible). Perhaps you and I have a different definition of SM?

      If you do decide to write F/F, it would be awesome if you could avoid the ‘straight woman placed in extenuating circumstances’ trope since it’s a personal turnoff but ymmv. Oh and if you end up writing something and have time I would love a link since I don’t check this site often (meimei8565 at gmail dot com). Thanks!

    • //Raziel’s preferences and his non-con work, to me, reads pretty much like SM …//

      To the degree that all non-consensual sex is a form of “emotional abuse” and therefore sadomasochism, then yes. But I’ve always taken it in its more physical sense. No straight women or no straight women in extenuating circumstances?

    • mei mei

      Well, preferably no straight women, period. If we’re going to be specific, no women suddenly discovering for the first time that they can be attracted to other women; no drunken ‘I’ll do this because it turns my bf on’; no window of doubt that she’s really just het (read: pure/normal/good) deep down.

    • mei mei

      Oh god eww that would be even worse.

      I don’t want to constrain you too much so feel free to ignore these. Yes: non-con (preferred over reluctance/dub-con), breathplay, spanking, slapping, bondage. No: ageplay, furry, bloodplay, scat, scarification, actual male involvement (threatened is fine/good). Look, I like most of what you write (apart from few things that are ykinmk) so y’know. Just have fun. And thank you :)

    • ximenawrites

      It seems to me that mei mei wants a read about woman who love the smell, taste, and feel of other women.

      Although there are a number of gay/bi men and women who are into ‘first time’ or ‘straight women/men’ porn and erotica, I’m not into it either. I’d rather read about (or see) the fire in her eyes..the hunger she feels when she gets in between the other woman’s legs. Unless it’s noncon, I don’t want to read about reluctance or sexual confusion during the act – it muddies the water.

      Mei Mei – you’re so specific in your vision that writing to your taste is just a matter of coloring in the numbers, so to speak… and that’s not a bad thing.

      It’s a challenge in its own way.

    • mei mei

      I know :-p I like to think it’s because I’ve become more honest about my tastes rather than those tastes having narrowed. Lol.

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