'The Contract' by Ed Edas
Andrew Wild, handsome, 30 something, married company director is caught by his managing director stealing from the company. He has been using money stolen from the company to fund his hobby of collecting model soldiers and for a lifestyle involving sex with a series of prostitutes. His MD Anne is a Dominant who already has a female slave Christine who is the company secretary.
Anne convinces Helen, Andrew's wife, that rather than bringing in the police and Andrew probably going to jail that there is a better way. She offers Helen a plan to force Andrew to become a slave for four months during which time he will be trained and punished for his crimes.
After a confrontation with Anne and Helen, in the presence of Christine, he accepts the terms of The Contract offered to him by Anne. His four month term of strict sexual slavery, involves orgasm control, anal sex, oral sex training, watersports, heavy whipping and torture and serious amounts of humiliation inflicted on him at first by Anne but as events progress by Christine, and Helen his wife.
Helen also discovers a liking for la vie Dominatrix and a pleasure in lesbian sex.
The Contract by Ed Edas is available as an e-book, in all the usual formats.
Taxing Times 3 Love And Exile by Ed Edas is available as an e-book, in all the usual formats.
EXCERPT
Your name is Andrew Wild. You are thirty seven years old, one metre eighty five in height and weigh in at ninety six kilos. The ninety six kilos is correctly distributed over your broad frame. Your attractive male body is also decorated with thin red lines and welts which you have acquired during the evening of a day that has changed your life. You run your hands over your chest, belly, and the front of your thighs. You can feel the raised areas where the marks are placed. You wince as your hands encounter a spot that is more tender than most. The marks are whip marks and your mind races over the events of the day which have left you here in the dark, with a thick collar around your neck attached with a padlock to a chain which is attached at its other end to a ring cemented into the wall. To reinforce your sense of imprisonment you are wearing a chastity device to prevent you from touching your genitals.
God it’s dark in here, they might at least have left a light on, room service isn’t up to much.
The attempt at humour doesn’t do much to lift your spirits and you once again try to get comfortable and attempt to sleep. The door opens suddenly and light floods the room, your cell. You twist around to protect your eyes, forgetting the chain and if it wasn’t for the leather collar around your neck you would probably have strangled yourself. As you try to disentangle yourself a voice, that of your wife Helen, breaks the silence. There is more than a little amusement in her tone, that rankles, but you wisely remain silent.
“Having a little trouble adjusting to your new sleeping arrangements are we darling. Here I’ll help you. After all I need you hale and hearty for what I’ve got in mind.”
She untangles the chain from around your neck but then pulls your left wrist down and attaches the heavy leather wrist cuff to a chain hanging down from the side of the bedstead. She quickly follows this by attaching both your ankles to similar chains and finally your right wrist is also connected to the bed. She gazes down at you for a few seconds before moving away from the bed and starting to remove the sheer white blouse she is wearing. Very soon the blouse is being shrugged from her shoulders and she is unzipping her skirt. You’d already had problems believing your eyes when you saw the way she was dressed earlier and now you think you are losing your mind.
What the fuck, I don’t fucking believe this. Not Helen. Getting naked in front of me with the lights on.
Believe it or not, the skirt slips down her long slim thighs, revealing lacy hold up stockings which reach to within five centimetres of her crotch. As you watch she steps out of the skirt, picks it up and puts it and the blouse on the strangely configured upright chair in the corner of the room. Her hands go up behind her back and she begins to unclip her bra. Suddenly she stops and looks at you.
“I see I have your full attention. That makes a change. Do you want me to take the rest off? Do you want to compare me to your little whore friends?”
You swallow convulsively. This isn’t the Helen you are used to. Suddenly there is a nagging pain in your groin and it’s getting worse. You remember, the chastity device, it’s a sheath around your cock and it’s lined with spikes, alright when you are limp but hell when you’re erect. Helen notices your discomfort. She moves back to the side of the bed, reaches down, takes your leather sheathed cock in her hand and squeezes. Its agony, the spikes feel as though they are being driven into your already sore cock. You fail to repress a moan. Helen looks down at you, an expression of concern on her face.
“Oops sorry does that hurt. Never mind, you’re a slave and they’re meant to endure pain. Just chalk it up to practice. Now I asked you a question. Would you like to see my breasts?”
She squeezes your cock again, amazingly your erection isn’t going down. If anything it’s getting harder. This time you scream, you’re sure you are being pierced.
“Yes please, yes please let me see your tits’.”
She really squeezes this time and your backside lifts of the bed as you shriek in pain.
“Wrong answer. They are my breasts; the whores you have been playing with have tits. I have breasts. Would you like to see them?”
You can feel her hand tensing round your sheathed member.
“I’m sorry. Yes....yes....please let me see your breasts.”
Her hand uncurls releasing your cock; you sigh with relief as she stands up and then watch as she begins to undo her bra. Suddenly she turns and faces away from you. You are watching avidly now, drinking in the slim stocking enhanced beauty of her legs, the stunning curved mounds of her buttocks, the slim waist and slender back with the long wavy dark brown hair reaching almost half way down. The spikes are being driven into your cock by your rampaging erection as you begin to remember one of the big reasons why you married her. The bra clasp is undone; she turns to face you holding the bra cups to her tits.
No breasts, they’re breasts. You remind yourself.
“Look at me, look me in the eye.”
Your eyes lock, she stares at you unblinkingly, her eyes bright in the light.
“Look down now.”
Obediently you look down; the bra is on the floor at her feet. She is cupping a breast in each hand. Two perfectly shaped pink globes of femininity each topped with a dark areola and, you notice, an erect nipple.
Damn it the bitch is turned on. My wife is feeling horny. I’m trussed up like a chicken with spikes digging into my dick and she’s getting off on stripping in front of me.
“Do you like what you see slave? Are my breasts as inviting as your whore’s tits? Would you like to feel them on your face? Would you like to suck my nipples?”
The spikes must be drawing blood by now but you don’t care, you want her tits on your face, you want to suck those pert nipples.
“Yes please I’d love to feel your breasts on my face Helen. I’d love to suck your nipples.”
She kneels on the bed straddling your torso and suddenly delivers two hard rapid slaps, a forehand, and a backhand to your cheeks.
“Jeeesus, what the fuck.”
Two more slaps make your ears ring.
“Control your tongue, no bad language in front of me and it’s yes please Madam. Now try again.”
Your ears are ringing, your cheeks are sore and those spikes are driving into your poor John Thomas. Suddenly it’s even worse as Helen shifts back and sits on it! You shriek in pain and outrage. She lifts her weight slightly and smiles.
“Sorry but I asked a question.”
Her buttocks move slightly and you are suddenly frantically begging to feel her beautiful breasts against your sore cheeks, and yes please, could you please suck her nipples. You add that it would be really wonderful if she would not sit on your cock.
“Cock, oh you mean your penis. Oh dear have I made it sore? Would you like me to move?”
She moves her hips again and pain grips your member. You shriek once more and beg her to stop. This time you remember her new title.
“Please....please Madam don’t sit on my penis.”
She smiles at you and moves forward. You watch as her breasts move down onto your face. Suddenly you can no longer see as your face is swallowed up in the soft yet firm valley of her cleavage. As you begin to luxuriate in the feeling you realise that she has covered your mouth and that she must be pushing her breasts from the outside against your nose. You can’t breathe. She pushes even more firmly, you try to move your face but she’s got her whole upper body weight pressing down on your face. It’s an uneven contest and you are losing. You begin to panic, and try to rock your shoulders but your hands are restrained to the bed frame, you can’t move. Some sort of conditioning stops you from biting her but you are now totally in panic mode and it’s a feeling of almost orgasm that sweeps over you when she suddenly lifts up from your face. She looks down at you enquiringly as you gasp for breath.
“Sorry, were you having difficulty breathing? Would you like to suck my nipples now?”
She doesn’t wait for a reply but pushes her left breast into your face. Eager to please you begin avidly sucking and licking the proffered rose pink bud. Helen sighs.
“Uhmmm....that’s good don’t stop.”
You continue to suck and lick only pausing as she swaps breasts over from left to right. She’s grinding her pelvis on your rib cage, fortunately not on your still agonisingly sore cock. You continue until she suddenly lifts her breasts away from you and sits up.
“Would you like me to take my panties off, would you like to see my vagina?”
She’s acting so far out of character, breaking so many of her own taboos that your brain has turned to mush. You stutter an answer, only just remembering to call her Madam and say vagina, not cunt or pussy. She smiles down at you once more; her tongue lazily licks her lips, she rises, lithe as a cat, to step off the bed and stands at the end of it facing away from you. Her thumbs hook into the high lace waistband of the diminutive and expensive looking knickers. She wriggles the gorgeous cheeks of her arse and your cock gives an extremely painful pulse within the steel spiked confines of the sheath. Helen slides the knickers down her thighs to her calves and then steps elegantly and confidently out of them, no mean feat when you are wearing twelve centimetre stiletto heels. She twirls the panties around a finger before flicking them onto the chair and turning to face you. Your mind is close to blowing a fuse as she seductively slides her hands over her body before stretching like a cat, spreading her legs wide, placing her hands on her hips and smiling at you. She licks her lips again, her tongue wetting carmine coloured lip gloss. Your cock must be pierced through and through by now, but you don’t care, you are too involved in looking at this fabulous transformed creature who was Helen your wife.
“Would you like to lick my vagina?”
Your throat is dry, the words come out as a croak, but you have learnt something from the last few hours. You stammer but it’s a respectful stammer.
“Yeees please....Madam.”
“Oh good, because I’m getting very horny. If you make a good job of it I might even fuck you. I might even let you have an orgasm, but only after mine.”
She moves sensuously towards you, hips and breasts moving in a synchronised movement of distilled lust and you are suddenly confronted by the dark musky fur covered mound of her sex as she puts her knees either side of your head. She puts her hands behind your head and pulls it upwards. As her thighs cut off your hearing you hear her sigh.
“Now lick my cunt slave.”
She begins to grind your face against her mons and you frantically push your tongue between the fur covered folds of her labia until it is inside the hot interior. You feel her thighs clamp tighter around your head as you begin to lick and suck at her sex. Your tongue finds the elusive bud of her clit and she grinds herself even more frantically onto your face. You feel her move on top of you and then you are gasping for air as she lifts herself off your face. She is down by the side of the bed, as you turn your head you see her put a hand bag down on the floor. Something cold and metallic lands on your belly and she is doing something with the chastity device. You have just worked out, to your horror, that the metal on your belly is a chain complete with two of the evil clover clamps that you met earlier, when Helen pulls the sheath from your cock.
Oh my god that’s so good. I can’t look. Wonder if there’s much blood.
As you force yourself to look down Helen straddles you again, this time with her knees alongside your waist. As you watch she raises herself above your reddened but miraculously unbloodied cock and guides it between the hot wet lips of her vagina. You both sigh as you penetrate the depths, and then in front of your horrified eyes she picks up the chain. You beg frantically.
“No please no please....please don’t do that.”
She lifts herself up and drives down on to your cock but doesn’t take any notice of your pleas, just smiles dreamily at you as she positions first one and then the other of the vicious little clamps on your already unbelievably sore nipples. She begins to ride you and pull on the chain as she rises and falls. You scream but still thrust against her as she smiles and gasps.
“That’s....it...slave. Pleasure....me. Make me come. DON’T YOU DARE CUM UNTIL I GIVE YOU PERMISSION. If you do I’ll...rip....your nipples...off. Unn...dderr....stand?”
She’s gathered the chain around her fingers shortening it and is riding you as if it’s the Grand National and she’s in front. It’s crazy, your cock is like an iron bar, it’s unbelievably sore, the chain between the clamps is taut and your chest is flooded with pain but you are having to do mental arithmetic to stop yourself from cumming. You daren’t look at her sweat covered body as she writhes magnificently above you, using you, impaling herself on you, driving herself onwards to orgasm.
Add seven to a hundred and thirty four less five divide by three that’s forty five point three something. Ohhh....shit.
You scream in agony as she screams with pleasure arching her back in ecstasy and pulling hard on the chain. You gasp with relief as she falls forward to rest her head on your tormented chest. Suddenly with virtually no warning a wave of pleasure engulfs you. You feel the savage pulse of pure pleasure surge from your balls and you are pumping your cream deep into her.
“Oh fuck yes....yes...yes....oh fuck that’s good.”
Seconds later as you are slowly coming out of the ‘petit morte’ of orgasm you feel Helen sit upright and then pain rips savagely across your chest. Your eyes fly open and as they focus you see the chain stretched between your nipples and your nipples being pulled away from your chest. Beyond that is Helen her eyes blazing with fury. Her mouth opens and she speaks. Each word is punctuated with a savage tug at the chain.
“Did...I...give....you...permission...to cum? Did...I...did...I?”
You are screaming, terrified that she will ‘rip your nipples off.” This is not the Helen you thought you knew, this is someone different, someone frightening. You beg for mercy.
“Please Helen. Please don’t do that. Please I beg you.”
She still keeps the tension on the chain but stops the brutal tugging. She is looking down on you, her face a hard mask. Finally she seems to come to a decision, she drops the chain on your chest and raises herself from your semi erect cock. You feel the usual pang of withdrawal as you lose contact with her warm wet depths.
She stands alongside you.
“Charlotte warned me that you wouldn’t be able to keep control, she also gave me a suggestion for what to do if it happened. At the time I thought it was, in a way, disgusting but now I can see that it’s got a certain attraction. You are going to lick me clean slave.”
Before you have time to think or say anything her lithe slim thighs are alongside your chest and the wet puffy lips of her vagina are sinking once more onto your mouth. There is another savage tug on your tortured nipples, you begin to lick your own sperm from your wife’s vagina. It’s quite a long time before she lifts herself off your face and then off the bed to stand looking down at you. She seems to be a little unsure of what to do next but suddenly picks up her hand bag again and pulls a small many tailed whip from it. She looks down at you again and smiles.
“Earlier today Charlotte asked me if I wanted to whip you and I declined. Before I came to this room she told me that you wouldn’t be able to control yourself, she also told me what to do if you didn’t. She seems to know you better than I do, she seems to know me better than I do, because she said that this time I would whip you.”
You watch as she puts down the hand bag and raises the whip. As it flashes down towards you, the tails a blur, you realise it’s target and begin to scream in protest. The scream of protest turns into a scream of agony as the tails impact on your sac. Seconds later they strike your now flaccid penis. You can’t move, you can’t do anything apart from scream and beg as your wife lashes your genitals. After what seems to you to be an agony filled age she stops the blows to stand panting from her exertions. Normally the sight of a beautiful naked woman, her body shiny with sweat, standing over you with her breasts heaving would have you erect in seconds. This time there is no response from you. Helen picks up the sheath and starts to fix it in place, as she does so she talks.
“Charlotte told me that if you whip a man’s genitals after he has had an orgasm it hurts a lot more than when he has an erection. She also told me that I would enjoy doing it, and I did. I’m sure I enjoyed it a lot more than you did but, as you are going to learn in the next four months, this is no longer about what you enjoy, it’s about what I and others enjoy.”
She finishes putting your cock back in it’s spiked sheath and clicks the padlock into place before releasing your ankles and wrists. Finally she bends and kisses you on the cheek.
“I still love you, but I’m going to enjoy watching you suffer for what you did to me. Good night.”
You manage to croak a ‘good night’ as she gathers her clothes and walks naked from the room switching out the light as she goes.
Sleep takes a long time coming as your brains try to grapple with the events of the day and the possibilities for the future.