Magenta humiliated her husband in front of his co-workers and friends. She hadn't done it on purpose.
Agreed to be humiliated in return, Magenta waits, hands and feet tied together, as her husband gathers more men than she's ever been with to their bedroom for the show.
Will she survive entertaining so many men? More importantly, how long can she hide how much she enjoys being defiled this way?
Dive into this short, dark erotica story now.
Magenta pulled at the ropes binding her wrists together. Rough fiber pinched at her skin and rubbed it raw.
She sucked back the running in her nose—from crying as Malcolm tied her up and the other men leered at her. But they left her in the bedroom. Locked her in, not that she could go far with the rope around her ankles. Magenta found a corner between the bedside table and the wall, toes wiggling in the squares of sunlight.
After long stretches of silence and abrupt bursts of boisterous cheers. Her nerves twitched her muscles, pulling a shriek from her when her husband kicked the door open. The looks on the line of men behind him scared her.
She’d humiliated him without meaning to, but she had nonetheless. And part of her apology was her own taste of humiliation. Magenta had agreed to this, but did she know what she’d been getting into?
They advanced slowly as she sobbed. The fear clinging to her with the crawling anticipation of pain.
Half a dozen sets of hands grabbed and lifted her from the floor, pulling at her clothes as they tossed her on the bed.
Malcolm gave a slow, methodical speech about what she’d done to him—emasculated him. He tore open her leggings at the crotch, making her hips jerk off the bed. His fingers rubbed against her panties.
Magenta wriggled back, useless. The other men were too close. Leering.
You like it.
He ripped her shift off her, tearing it nearly in two, and grabbed and squeezed her breasts. Squirming under his grasp, she tried to pull her arms around herself but was quickly grabbed by two other men, pinning her hands above her head.
Legs kicking, she wished she’d never agreed to this.
More hands halted her kicks, untied her ankles, and spread her thighs wide for Malcolm. Magenta’s whimper made her husband grin down at her. His fingers probed the tear in her leggings, pressing her panties in deeper and rubbing her core until her hips shifted without her consent. A taste of pleasure rolled through her before he crawled up her body, straddling her waist and chest.
The others released her, and her arms were pinned between his knees. The weight of him had her mouth parted, panting.
His thumb pressed along her lower lip, dipping in to spread salt over her tongue.
"That’s a good girl. No teeth.”
After her husband and a group of his friends tie her up and use her body, Magenta is left without what she really wanted—a baby.
Her husband and his best friend intend to make it up to her after a tense dinner together. Sharing her seems to heighten the dominating sexuality in them both.
Will she be able to submit to them so easily this time? More importantly, can she handle the clear intensity and passion that her husband's best friend shows her?
Dive into this short, hot erotica story now.
Magenta steadied herself after she checked the roast in the oven. It glistened nicely. If only the rest of her life was as easy as preparing a perfect dinner. She’d gotten the hang of that by the time she’d turned eleven--after her mother abandoned Magenta and her five siblings to be a rockstar in a country halfway around the world.
Somehow, her ability to slip into Mom’s role didn’t deter her own want for children, at least not after she’d met and married Malcolm. He wanted a litter, and she wanted him to be happy.
She had to admit that, now, after years of trying, Magenta wanted kids, too. Wanted to right the wrong done to her so long ago.
But this morning, her pregnancy test was negative, even after the trials she went through to conceive. Magenta gulped back the mixed feelings she had when she thought of it--of how her husband had tied her up, fucked her in front of a room full of strangers, and left them do what they wanted with her body afterward.
She’d come so many times. And so had they.
Still, she was left without a baby.
A strong, warm arm cinched around her waist as the amber scent of her husband enveloped her. His mouth found the side of her neck. “Hello, beautiful wife.”
Magenta wiggled back into him, feeling safe and whole in his arms, with her back to his chest and his breath against her skin.
His nose traced her pulse. “You smell good.”
She smiled. “That’s the roast.”
After another long whiff of her skin, he shook his head and applied his teeth to her earlobe. “No. That’s you. You make me hungry in so many ways.”
Mmm. Magenta loved it when he was like this, his hips swaying lightly into hers.
“But I hope you have enough food for three because Gavin will be joining us tonight.” Her husband’s hand dropped low between her thighs to cup and gently stroke her.
Need shot through Magenta, and heat settled low in her center at the implication in his voice. The three of them hadn’t been alone in this house together since her humiliation, but every time she’d caught a glimpse of him otherwise, his gaze burned her up.
His want to fuck her again obvious in the way he trapped her for a second with his intensity.
Magenta sank into Malcolm’s probing fingers, wishing she’d worn a skirt. But maybe that wasn’t such a good idea with Gavin coming over.
Malcolm laughed darkly into her hair. “I can’t wait for dessert.”
The implication was clear. She was dessert.
Magenta’s husband has sent his best friend, Gavin, to keep their dinner date, but she is having a tough time trusting Gavin without her husband there to keep him in line.
Gavin’s mission seems to change once he has Magenta all to himself, showing her that submission doesn’t have to mean pain.
Can he convince her to trust him? More importantly, can she handle being completely under his control?
Dive into this short, hot erotica story now.
Magenta checked the chicken as it finished stewing on the stove. She would break it apart right before she added the dumplings, but since it couldn’t over cook at the stage it was in, Magenta left it until Malcolm came home.
Which should be soon. Most nights, she timed it just right so that her husband could come home and have a beer before they sat down to dinner.
A knock at the door startled her, and her heart raced when she opened it to Gavin in his suit from work and an ominous-looking briefcase. His boyish smile did its best to melt her insides and soak her panties.
“Hey, Mags. Malcolm got stuck at the office.”
“And he sent you here to tell me instead of calling?” Her arms crossed defensively. Malcolm stayed late all the time. It wasn’t a big deal, but usually, he called instead of sending an errand boy. Namely his aggressively perverted best friend.
What was that man planning?
Gavin’s gaze darkened as it dipped along her pants suit from work. It hugged her nicely without being distasteful, and that was never bad for high-end sales. Right this moment, however, it made her feel near naked.
Or maybe that was because Gavin had already seen all of her—touched and kissed and fucked all of her.
The thought blasted through both of their minds. His nostrils flared. “He thought you might want company for dinner.”
Magenta narrowed her eyes at him, unsure just how badly he would behave when left to his own devices. The dirty things he’d whispered to her last time scared her now without her husband there to keep him in line.
But as her heartbeat sped up, her core burned with the desire to be under his control.
Gavin smiled again to disarm her.
“Fine. Come in.” Magenta stepped to the side to let him in and closed the door behind him.
The heat of Gavin met her back before she could turn. His nose edged her ear, and his hot breath cascaded down her bare neck like a caress.
This was entirely not fair and not safe.