Lights...Camera...Action! - Part I
Posted 24 August 2006
I have considerable reservations about putting up this diary post. As I expected, it was very difficult to write, principally because the events that took place during the week when Matt stayed with me don't come across as being grounded in reality (at least that's my impression when I read my own words). What you have to appreciate here is that the abiding purpose of filming various video scenes with Matt during that week was to try to create fantasy images with which I would be able to relentlessly taunt Martin for years to come. Sure, I was hoping to enjoy some amazing sex in the process, but that was a by-product as far as I was concerned. I wanted Martin to see his wife involved in extremely bizarre sex games, indulging in acts that she had never shown the slightest inclination of wanting to pursue with her husband at any time during her married life. When given free rein, with a real man to satisfy her, Martin was going to discover the true extent of his wife's inner desires.
So, try to understand that the descriptions of different acts and scenes I filmed with my lover read like fantasy fiction because that's exactly what they are - fantasy fiction brought to life. I'm not going to describe everything that Matt and I did in detail, firstly because it would take several diary entries and secondly because even after several months Martin has still seen less than half of the content. The great thing about having so many hours of diverse imagery is that the end result doesn't in any way have to be linear. I've been able to create a number of themed montages which in many ways are more poignant for Martin than just showing him a single scene. Having to watch a compilation of my orgasms, for example, must be devastating for my husband, especially since in such moments of passion I'm often telling Matt how much I love him and how I wish I were married to him.
Something else which you may find hard to accept is both my desire and capacity to orgasm. I suspect many women would find it difficult (not to say exhausting) to have more than a couple of climaxes each day, but during the week Martin was abroad I was experiencing at least a dozen every single day. Despite the intensity of the climaxes I enjoy, I can be ready for another (in fact I often need another) within a few minutes, particularly when I'm in the sort of highly turned on state I was in when Matt stayed.
In case you think it would be wonderful to have a wife who wants so much sex, you maybe need to think about it a little. I imagine most men would like a 'hot' wife, but one who limits her passion to the bedroom, or at least to times and places where sex can be enjoyed in private. That's not what you get with me however. If I get highly turned on - and that can result from just a lecherous glance from a man or from a sexy thought that enters my head - then given half an opportunity I'll play with myself. Even after all these years Martin can get unnerved when I suddenly start to masturbate. I've done it on a plane (skirt totally unzipped with just a blanket over me), in a hotel lift (did they have a camera?), and numerous times in the back of taxis or cars (especially at night). At Martin's offices I once sat in his desk chair, unzipped my PVC briefs, and did myself with the cold metal head of a golf putter he practises with. This was during the working day, when anyone could have walked in on us. Don't you think you'd find it more than a little disconcerting to be married to someone who will suddenly pull up her skirt and begin massaging herself on pretty much any object that can impart friction to her clitoris?
Although I don't believe the experience of forcing a husband to be physically present while his wife is being serviced by another man (or men) can be beaten, there are disadvantages and limitations that filming can overcome. We've all been in situations when things have gone wrong in the bedroom, where we've tripped over or suddenly developed muscle cramp, or when something happens which just makes you burst out laughing. This is fine between just two of you, but in a cuckold scenario with the husband watching it's vital that the sexual intensity between wife and lover is maintained at all times. Edited videos always show that magic and never reveal mishaps. Also the tedium and preparation that can go with setting up a fantasy sex scene (especially a bondage scene) can be completely hidden by recording to video and editing later. Many of the scenes I shot with Matt were extremely tiring to do and the constant need to stop and reposition cameras could sometimes be a significant impediment to passion. This is one area where Matt was exceptional however - he was able to stay hard throughout all of the interruptions we faced, yet more evidence (as if I needed it) of his vast superiority over Martin as a lover.
I'd warned Matt beforehand what to expect. Although the idea was to indulge in some awesome sex, I stressed to him that my primary purpose was to create content with which to torment my husband. There would be a great number of ritualised scenes which would take time to set up and there would be long periods in between during which I would be changing outfits, doing my hair, putting on make-up etc. I left him in no doubt that this was all going to be hard work, albeit great fun as well.
As I had anticipated, Matt expressed some unease about the filming. Although he was becoming used to Martin's submissiveness and had even shown signs of enjoying the humiliation he was inflicting on him, he still worried that Martin would react badly when he saw his wife being repeatedly penetrated and disciplined in numerous different positions. I really had to work hard to counter his apprehension on this. For my part it was vital that Matt made these videos with me, because once he knew that Martin had witnessed us having sex on film, it wouldn't be nearly as difficult for him to accept my husband being physically present when we made love.
Matt's other reservation was very understandable - he was unhappy that someone would hold videotape of him performing sexual acts, especially as a number of these would be considered by many to be depraved. I gave him a simple choice on this - he could either be seen fully in the shots or the camera would be positioned and zoomed so that his face was out of view. I would then download the scenes to my computer, we'd edit out any moments where he was inadvertently on camera, and then we'd wipe the tape. In the end I think this all sounded so complicated to him that he basically shrugged his shoulders and let it go, especially when he asked whether he could keep the tapes once I'd transferred the content to digital media and I said that would be fine with me. I get turned on by the fact that someone has extremely explicit video of me. It's exciting to think that what happens to the content is beyond my control. Who knows where those tapes may end up one day?
I used three cameras to film the scenes. Two we already owned, but unknown to Martin I purchased a third in the week before he went away. I wanted one camera to be recording the overall scene itself and another to be capturing the most vital areas at closer range. The third might seem a little unnecessary, but to me it was essential - it would predominantly be focused on my face. I wanted Martin to be able to see my expressions as Matt serviced and disciplined me. Although I'd constantly been drubbing into my husband the incredible pleasure that my lover was able to give me, I wanted Martin to see it at first hand. He was going to witness what sublime joys a real man could provide me with.
I chose the particular camera I purchased for one very useful feature on it - a slow motion capability. Although it was being promoted for sports fans and animal lovers, this facility was perfect for my needs. I figured that slow motion pictures of Matt screwing me and ejaculating into my mouth would be unforgettably powerful, both for myself and for Martin. And I was right. The slow motion shots of my face being sprayed with cum as I try to catch it in my mouth are some of the most beautiful I have ever filmed and it was when I played these back for the very first time that I realised that filming a scene where several men ejaculate over me can no longer remain a fantasy for me - I simply must experience it for real, all captured in slow motion.
Martin's trip abroad is an annual occurrence which he normally looks forward to, but this year he was quite reluctant to go (for obvious reasons). In prior years I always role-played in the days leading up to his departure, goading him with stories of how I would be going out all slutted up looking for sex. Men would be returning with me to our home, and while my husband was lying alone in bed far away, his oversexed wife would be having her brains fucked out by well-hung young bulls. You get the idea, and hey, come on, many of you have played this little story out with your own wife at some point haven't you?
Once he was away, Martin would phone me most nights and I would tell him what a great time I was having. Used condoms were strewn across the bedroom; my rubber panties were hanging in the bathroom with spunk still dripping from them; my breasts were sore from all the sucking; oh, and the next-door neighbours had seen me being anally serviced on our garden lawn. It had all been said a hundred times before of course, but Martin found it a great turn on and I could hear his heavy breathing as he masturbated whilst listening to my words. In the early days I also got off on this fanciful monologue, but over the past couple of years the enjoyment had waned as the frustration of wanting the experiences to be real began to gnaw at me.
Now that fantasy had morphed into reality, I inevitably couldn't help but play on Martin's fears and increase his insecurity in the days leading up to his departure. However it was at this point, some ten days or so before he left, that I first became conscious of the fact that my demeanour towards my husband was changing. I found that I wasn't taking on the harsh bitch-domina Mistress role nearly as much any more. As I've said before, this stern whip-wielding persona is a very real side to me and I'm not saying that she's gone. But somehow with Martin it no longer seemed necessary. As I tried to rationalise why this change had come over me I realised that it was because my spouse's cuckolding had left him completely defeated. His subservience to me had become implicit, made so by the mere fact that while he was lying pathetically in bed wanking his substandard little cock, his wife was several miles away being masterfully serviced by a vastly superior male.
Furthermore I was now being satisfied. The deep frustration I had experienced in the months leading up to Martin's cuckolding had gone and the suppressed anger that had accompanied it was no longer there. I didn't need to rage at my husband for his deficiencies, even though those deficiencies were now more openly obvious than they had ever been. There was an increasing calmness to me now and unless Martin really pushed my patience, Maria the Bitch was unlikely to appear. If she did, it would likely have to be feigned - an act - and that was something that I was never going to do.
You might reasonably deduce that as a consequence of the above, Martin's punishments began to ease. What is interesting (to me anyway) is that the opposite has been true. I now punish and humble my spouse far more than I used to, even though the simmering anger is no longer there. Instead, I now realise, I am disciplining Martin for no other reason than the fact that I enjoy it. I still experience the same intensely powerful orgasms when I whip and spank my husband but the vexation has been replaced with a sort of relish. Since I can no longer hide behind the excuse of sexual deprivation for my desire to punish Martin, I really have to accept the fact that I am a quite unashamed sadist - I get a sexual release from hurting a man, both mentally and physically. And I don't think that man has to be Martin; I expect any submissive man will do.
As far as Martin is concerned, he mostly just sees this cool-headed, dispassionate woman who matter-of-factly tells him what to do. She gives no indication that what she has ordered is often extreme, and cruelly degrading. At one time it might have been:
"Get upstairs now, you faggot wanker! Strip your clothes off and get on that bed! I'm going to whip your arse red raw for having a non-prick!"
...but it's now more likely to be (in an almost conversational tone):
"Martin, I want you to go upstairs and get undressed, then wait for me on all fours on your bed, okay? I need to whip you for being deficient. I'll be up in a while..."
Generally I keep the pleasure I am getting from tormenting Martin hidden from him. The seemingly perfunctory nature of the discipline is a punishment in itself. He can't see the smile that crosses my face as he licks my boots, nor can he know how much inner pleasure I get from making him suffer yet another appalling degradation. But, for good or ill, one thing I am unable to disguise is the release I get from using the whip on him. It would perhaps be best if I could save my passion for a private moment later and thus maintain the mask of emotional detachment, but I simply can't do this. I am so sexually charged from just holding a riding crop that once I start to use it I cannot deny the orgasm that it induces.
So, to get back to the matter at hand, try to understand that in the days leading up to my husband's trip I wasn't berating him, or even goading him like I used to. Instead I simply told him what I wanted him to do, as if there was no doubt in my mind that he would carry out my instructions exactly as I demanded and without protest. This must have been far more painful for him than if I had raised my voice in the way he was used to. It must have been becoming clear to him that his deference to me was now assumed on my part, that there was no longer any concept of Martin being my equal partner in marriage. He had become my lap dog; my servant; my toy.
This should be another great lesson for all of you husbands out there who want to take that great leap into the realm of cuckoldry. I've discussed before my belief that a cuckold relationship is both viable and rewarding if the bond between wife and husband is strong. I haven't changed my view on this at all, and make no mistake - Martin is enjoying a level of sexual arousal nowadays that he never came close to experiencing before I started having intercourse with another man. It is all his dreams come true. But what you must accept, as my husband is now having to accept, is that once your wife has been sired by a far better lover, your status in the relationship will inevitably be downgraded.
You can't expect any less - you gave up your right to your wife's sexual respect when you watched her walk out of the door wearing high heels, black stockings, and a miniskirt for her new man, her vagina fully shaved and already soaking in anticipation of being pleasured by a penis that is bigger and harder than anything you provided in all your years together. You are a cuckold, and as such you have shown your inferiority. And though your wife may still love you, and enjoy your company, and hold you in the highest respect for your intellect and the wealth that you provide, she will interpret your cuckolding as an acceptance of servility. Your wife's needs and requirements are now the marriage's priority. You are there to ensure that those needs are fulfilled.
Thus for several days before he left, Martin was required to systematically polish my entire collection of leather boots and clothing. Then he cleaned and polished all my latex. My vibrators, dildos and other toys all had to be scrupulously cleaned, even though they were already scrupulously clean. He sat next to me as I searched the Web for some extra clothing, footwear and bondage devices, listening submissively as I absent-mindedly explained why I thought Matt would be turned on by some particular item. And he dutifully paid for my selections with his credit card, fully aware that his own money was being used to make his wife even more desirable to another man.
I can't really explain how pleasurable it is to control a man like this. It would be a living hell if that's all that I had. But with another man to satisfy all of my bedroom needs, manipulating my husband in this way is simply divine. Martin can't hide the pain in his eyes any more than he can hide the bulge in his trousers and it's this never-ending conflict between regret and arousal that constantly fires my imagination and keeps me searching for new ways to explore the limits of Martin's psychological tolerance. I wouldn't advise anyone to ever travel down this road, but now that we're both on it, who knows where it will end?
On the morning when Martin left I remember going to his bedroom as he was doing his final bit of packing. I casually leaned against the doorway watching him, idly stroking a shiny black rubber dildo as I did so. I was dressed in a leather micro skirt with fishnet stockings and six-inch heeled stilettos. I didn't make any comment about Matt or what we going to do. There was no necessity to taunt him - me standing there dressed like that was all that needed to be said. I made one or two passing remarks, reminding him to take a couple of items that he often tended to forget, and I also mentioned the fact that I didn't want him calling me while he was away. I'd probably be busy, so if I needed to speak with him then I'd be the one to make contact.
"Okay," he said, without looking at me as he zipped and buckled his suitcase. At one time Martin could never get enough of seeing me dressed as a slut, and moments like this when he deliberately averts his gaze are now one of the most telling indicators of the level of his distress.
I went downstairs and prepared us both some breakfast. As my husband entered the kitchen I was walking around, deliberately making the metal tips of my heels click against the floor, a sound he adores. As he sat down he noticed the video camera that I had set up, pointing to one end of the kitchen table. He looked as though he was about to say something but stopped short of making any comment.
We ate in relative silence. I can quite imagine that Martin was seriously wondering whether this would be the last breakfast we would enjoy together as a married couple. To me that notion was ludicrous, but I hadn't in any way conveyed my thinking to my husband. As far as he was concerned the coming week was a test on my part to see what a permanent lifestyle with Matt might be like and I certainly wasn't going to correct his delusion.
As he stood up to leave the table I calmly spoke to him:
"Just before you go upstairs there's something I want you to do for me," I said.
"Oh, okay, what?" he asked.
I walked around to one of the worktops and picked up a bowl. Then on the way back to the table I started the video camera recording.
"I want you to properly prepare me," I said, and I showed him the bowl's contents. Into it I had squeezed almost a whole tube of lube.
Martin looked at me half despairingly, as if to say: Haven't you done enough already? Do you have to turn the screw just that little bit more? But at the same time I caught a flash of lust in his eyes. With just that brief glimpse I knew my submissive masochist spouse was reflexively becoming erect again.
He dutifully took the bowl from me and got to his knees. I then unzipped my skirt, hoisted it up around my waist, and pulled down my leather briefs. But as he bent his face down to the bowl I stopped him short.
"Wait," I said, "I want you to masturbate into it first."
His instant compliance to such instructions continues to fascinate me. There wasn't even a whimper of protest as he unzipped himself, pulled out his prick, and demeaned himself by obediently wanking before a woman who for the rest of her days will look upon his penis with nothing other than derision.
He began to kiss my legs and then nuzzled his mouth against my suspender clips, running his tongue over the silver metal. After just three minutes or so his arm was working furiously and I sensed he was well on the way to climaxing. It was at this point I reached down and grabbed his wrist, momentarily preventing any stimulation.
"Martin, stop a minute. Look at your cock. When you first took it out it was hard wasn't it? You had a good erection - well, sort of. But look at it now, and you've only been wanking for... what? A couple of minutes? It's lost all its hardness. I know you'll still have an ejaculation, but I'm amazed that you're able to do so."
I wasn't kidding. As I've said before, Martin's fully erect penis is probably quite average but if a ruler had been put against it at that moment it would have measured four inches or less. It's hardly surprising that in my mind's eye this is how I now view Martin's equipment - today this is quite often its 'erect' state, at least in my presence.
He looked mortified. "I know," he blurted out. "I just can't help it. I play with myself so much thinking about you that I can't keep it hard for long any more. Also I think it's become psychological. I want to impress you. Sometimes when I'm alone I get a really big hard-on that lasts for a long time, but whenever I'm in front of you I can't keep it."
This grovelling admission of inadequacy was music to my ears but I showed only compassion. I lowered myself a little and lifted his chin with my hand.
"Oh baby, I'm sorry. You've obviously developed some sort of mental block. It's probably because you know that Matt is so much bigger than you and he's able to fill me so wonderfully. Look, there are devices you can get to stop you masturbating too much. Maybe if you wore one of those and we limited your ejaculations you'd be able to keep hard for longer. Do you think that would be a good idea?"
He looked unsure. "Yeah, maybe," he said without too much enthusiasm.
"I'm sure it would be worth a try," I coaxed. "It would be great to see you keeping your prick hard for a long time like you used to. You know that I could never go back to having your cock in me now that Matt's spoiled me, but it would be fun if I was able to strap up your prick and lead you around the house by it again, wouldn't it?"
"Oh God, yeah, that would be magic."
"Okay, come on then, finish your wank. Think of me pulling on the dog lead attached to your cock. Remember when I took you for a walk around the garden like that? Wasn't that horny, when there was always the chance of being seen?"
"Oh yeah," and that memory set him off again. His prick was a little harder by now, but calling it erect still required quite a leap of imagination.
It took about two minutes for him to begin spurting into the bowl.
"That's a good boy. Come on, do as much as you can. That's it... good... yes, excellent."
By now I was extremely aroused and I completely removed my skirt. Then I took the bowl in one hand, grabbed Martin by the hair with the other and literally shoved his face into the mess of lube and cum.
"There we go, that's right. No, not just on your lips. Take a load into your mouth so you can feed it into me with your tongue. No, Martin, more than that... yes, that's better."
The humiliation is appalling for him. You see his mouth, nose and cheeks glistening with the bizarre mixture, and then I pull his head to my pussy, forcing him to fully lubricate the outside of it, then ordering him to get his tongue deep inside. Several times I pull his face back to the bowl for replenishment and after several lickings you see me turn around, bend right down over the table and instruct him to perform the same sordid act on my rear.
One thing I hadn't considered is just how easily and how far my husband's well-oiled tongue would penetrate into me. The pleasure was utterly breathtaking. It took all my willpower - every ounce I could muster - not to gasp with delight and to resist the temptation to reach down and finger myself to orgasm.
"Okay, that'll do," I eventually said as levelly as I could, although Martin must have heard my voice shaking. "You'd better go and clean yourself up and then get moving, or you'll be late. That was very well done, by the way. Really good. I'm sure Matt will be delighted."
In fact Matt never got to enjoy me in that state. Once Martin had left for the airport I had two hours to kill until my lover came round and there was no way I could hold on that long, especially after stupidly playing back the video I had just made and reviewing my husband working on me. Ten minutes after watching him tonguing my rear I was standing in front of my bedroom mirror, my pussy and backside being well and truly reamed with lube-soaked vibrators as I rapidly approached my first release of the day.
The filming started as soon as Matt arrived. After we had briefly fondled each other for a few minutes, I discussed with him what I wanted to do in the first cameo and then I asked him to walk down and lock the gate at the end of our driveway (my house cannot be seen properly from the road) while I set up the cameras so that they were centred on his car. For this initial scene I used the third camera to capture things from a different viewpoint, not for filming my face. It was chilly that day, although I really wasn't aware of it despite walking round in a micro skirt and a thin see-through top. It was also beautifully bright, just perfect light for filming.
Once everything was set up I got Matt to get back in his car and reverse it a little, while I went back indoors.
So this is how the first scenario plays out: Matt drives his car into camera shot and a few seconds later I emerge from the front door. I walk over to his car in my shiny skirt and killer heels, taking long sexy steps, and when I reach the driver's window he lets it down. I then stoop down, flick my hair behind me, and put my head into the car and start kissing him. It's important you get the right mental picture of how I look. I'm not standing with bent knees to get my head down to the window; my legs are fairly close together and they're completely locked, almost as if I'm trying to force the knee joints to go in the wrong direction. This straight-legged position pushes my arse into the air and there's a sensuous inverted arch to my back as I'm bending down to the car window. My stocking tops and suspenders are on full display and you can also see my shiny black leather briefs.
At this point, just as we were getting into our stride, we had to stop as I positioned a camera on its tripod outside the wound-down passenger window for a closer view of what was happening inside the car. This is a good example of how the spontaneity can be disrupted, but it wasn't that long before we were well on the way again. That first shot of me leaning inside the window as Matt takes my head in one hand and our lips meet is just fabulous.
When Martin in due course saw that kiss through the car window it was the first time he had ever seen at close range his wife's mouth pressed against another man's in earnest, and you can see as my face approaches Matt's just how much in love we are with each other (yes, I say 'in love', and I don't use the phrase lightly). My eyes begin to close, my lips sensuously part and you can see my tongue poised to enter my lover's mouth. With moments like this I don't really need to see hardcore shots in order to get turned on about cuckolding my husband. Watching this simple act of marital betrayal is all that's required to make me desperate to orgasm.
We kiss silently for quite a while and then I start to intermittently interrupt the exchange with various sentences:
"Oh, I've been waiting for this for so long."
"Thank God he's gone, even if it's only for a week."
"Have you been looking forward to fucking me, baby? Hmm? Are you going to punish your dirty fuck-slut with that gorgeous prick of yours?"
I told Matt that I would be talking a fair amount on camera, using my words as a means to inflict pain on Martin. I said that I wouldn't expect him to say much unless he really wanted to - just the occasional 'yes' or 'no' would be fine. On this occasion he managed a grunt which was unmistakably a positive response.
We kiss some more, and I then reach inside the car and begin to massage Matt's crotch. It's not easy to see the size of the bulge in his trousers in those first shots, but no matter - a couple of minutes later I unzip him and not long after that I extract his cock from his shorts. It must have been like a punch in the face when Martin saw Matt's shaft for the first time because at that moment he surely realised that I'd not been in any way exaggerating the size of my lover's manhood. Even though you can't see the length, Matt's amazing girth is completely obvious and I can't help but think that when Martin saw what had been entering me for the previous four months, he knew that sexually he'd lost his wife forever. He now knows what a third rate male he is in comparison.
When I edited all this, the inside shots were cut with shots of me from outside the car, with my rear garter straps stretched to their limit and my leather skirt looking as if it's going to rip apart with the tautness. It must have been apparent to Martin that at some point I was going to lean even further into the car and suck Matt, and his reaction when he saw me do this was unforgettable. From outside you see me lean forward and take all the weight on one leg, with the other sexily bent, the high-heeled stiletto pointing to the sky. From inside you see me deliberately stare straight into the camera, as though I'm acknowledging Martin's presence. I don't smile in any way - there's no look of victory - but instead you see the lust on my face, and my engorged, pouting lips are all the evidence that is needed that the anticipation of taking Matt's beautiful phallus into my warm mouth has left me helpless with passion. I will be quite open with you and say that as I'm writing this I have a vibrator buzzing inside me and what's going to make me orgasm now - right now - is the fact that Martin had never, ever, seen that look on my face before that moment. Only Matt can do that to me. Got that Martin, if you ever read this, you contemptible little masturbator? Let me say it again for you: Only Matt can do that to me.
You see my head go down and my hair falls with it, obscuring the view for just a moment. But clever Matt knows what I want and he pulls my locks out of the way and holds them as I first kiss the head of his prick, then softly tongue it, and finally close my lips around it.
You see me suck my lover for a while but this is just a taster (no pun intended) for later. This first video is a warm-up, a teaser. Soon I pull my head up again and out of the car and now I rest my arms on the roof as I push my breasts into the window opening. On the inside shot you see Matt start to play with them through my see-through top. He rubs them, squeezes them, and pinches the nipples. He licks them, sucks them through the material.
I stand completely upright then, hitching my skirt up just a little and thrusting my hips forward, and Martin gets another first - seeing his wife's pussy being groped and fingered through her black leather briefs. It's so fantastic to see these shots, especially as I'm somehow able to look at these images through Martin's eyes and empathise with his feelings and desires. Jealousy, confusion, excitement, fear, longing, regret and doubt. The whole gamut of human emotion is there, but all you really need to know is that my husband's penis was rock hard when he first viewed these images. No trouble with maintaining an erection on that day. This was jerk-off manna from heaven for him.
On the video you see that by this time I've almost lost it, and I pull my panties down so they fall to my ankles. I don't step out of them - I like to see them like this - but I pull my legs apart somewhat and then thrust my hips powerfully forward again, pushing my pussy into the car window, almost begging Matt to play with me.
"Wow, you're soaking," you hear him say as he cups his hand and fingers my now exposed vagina. And brilliantly (thank you Matt, thank you!) he rubs his hand around a little, pulls it out again and reaches towards the camera with it, showing the viewer my wet juices.
Before he gets a chance to replace his hand I stand up, turn around, and now thrust my rear into the car window. You see me hitch myself up and sort of sit on the windowsill, my arms spread behind me on the car roof, and my feet no longer touching the floor. Matt is amazing - the poor guy has had to sit in the car all this time and it's me getting all the action, but he knows exactly what to do. Despite being in a semi-contorted state in order to not block the inside view, he manages to reach round with his right arm so he can finger my pussy and with his left hand he starts working a finger into my backside (remember we're right-hand drive in the UK). Soon he's pumping away with both hands and I just adore the double finger fuck he gives me. It's something I could never allow Martin to do these days.
From the outside shots you see me gyrating up and down as I'm impaled on Matt's fingers. It's obvious that I'm well on the way to climax. You can hear me almost shouting my words of passion, oblivious to how far the sound might carry.
"Please, please, more," you hear me begging. "Give me more," I shout, even though its clear from the inside shot that there's no way Matt could get his finger any further into my ass than he already has.
"Oh God, Martin," I cry, "why do you have to be so crap!? Even Matt's fingers beat your useless cock!"
"Yes, yes... Oh here it comes! Oh why didn't I marry you ten years ago? You're a dream... every woman's dream. Instead I end up with that dildo... aaahh... dildo husband. Fucking LOSER! Aaaahh, aaahh yes! Give me everything Matt. Everything! Now! Yes! Yes!! That's it! I love you Matt! I want to marry you! Oh, I love you! Aaahh... yes... Y-E-E-E-S-S-S-S..."
I did of course have a choice in the order I showed the filmed scenes to Martin, but I had no hesitation in showing this one first, even though it might seem a bizarre way for a husband to see his wife have an orgasm with another man for the very first time. I just love seeing this video and it completely sets the tone for the kinkiness of what's to come (and it's mild in comparison to some of the other things Matt and I did). Matt knows that the "I want to marry you" line when I climaxed was just for show, but I say it with tremendous conviction in my moment of passion and it clearly jolted the living daylights out of Martin when he heard it, as did the expression of love.
Within an hour of this first orgasm I was experiencing another one, again outside. I hadn't planned on filming this scenario until later in the week, but the light was just perfect, too good an opportunity to miss. This time I'm wearing thigh boots and a latex microskirt, crotchless latex briefs, a tight leather corset, peephole rubber bra and a laced leather single-arm bondage glove. Matt sprayed a large amount of latex polish over the clothes and after he'd finished working it in, the rubber was absolutely glistening. It looks striking on film, probably the shiniest I've ever had rubber on video.
The scene was shot in the large entranceway to our house. In the porch we have two big metal hanging baskets for flowers, which when fully laden and watered weigh an absolute ton. They hang from large chains attached to substantial bolts which have been fixed into the stone overhang. Once Matt had removed the baskets, leaving the chains dangling free, we had ourselves the perfect ready-made bondage set-up.
You have to picture how I look here, and those of you with good memories will recognise strong similarities between the situation I describe and that in the Feedback & Requests entry when I outlined my fantasy for having anal sex for the first time. This is no coincidence, because this way of being chained and fettered is an idealised one that I've always fantasised about. It's exactly how I've dreamed of being constrained as a strong, powerful lover abuses me at his whim. Even better, Martin knew that this was my dream.
I'm standing with my legs held wide apart with a metal leg spreader and I'm bent over at the waist. My back is centred beneath one of the hanging basket chains, and two equally strong chains attached to this one extend down and are clipped to D-rings on either side of the wide belt around my waist (you've seen this belt a number of times in pictures of me). My arms are tightly bound behind my back in the laced bondage glove, and a chain extends from the D-ring at the end of the glove to the other hanging basket chain. With me telling him when to stop, Matt shortened and shortened this chain until my arms were pulled high into the air, making me lower my upper body as he did so to counteract the pain in my arms. Once again, my legs are completely locked, even though bending them would have been the natural response and would have lessened the discomfort. If you've ever seen fetish and bondage drawings, you'll notice that many artists draw the girls with their legs in an idealised (and often impossible) style - the reverse curvature of the leg going beyond the limits of anatomical plausibility. For someone with long legs, this way of standing creates a sensuous tension all of its own and it's for this reason that I used it constantly in the video scenes with Matt.
We tried tying my hair up with the intention of strapping it to my waist as I had always dreamed of doing, but in my mind's eye I hadn't considered that the bondage glove would be in the way. So instead Matt buckled me into a head harness which has a removable rubber ball gag (which we took off). A chain was then clipped to the metal ring at the top of the harness and the other end was fastened to the top of the hanging basket chain above my back. Matt tightened this chain until my head was pulled uncomfortably back, leaving me very little available head movement. The effect is sensational.
Finally, Matt attached the remaining accessories I wanted him to use: a dog lead, which he fastened to the wide leather collar of the head harness; two chains (penetration chains as I call them) to my waist belt; and a small silver chain which had small clamps at each end, which he clipped to my nipples.
I may have dreamed for years about being trussed up like this and abused by a man but I'd never imagined how excruciatingly uncomfortable it would be. Within minutes my arms were aching and I could feel my neck cramping up with the fixed tension it was under. However my desire to capture on film one of my greatest fantasies easily overcame any such considerations. I was trembling with excitement and expectation, especially when I envisioned Martin seeing these scenes for the first time.
Matt videoed me for about a minute, taking shots from various angles, and then he ran it back and showed it to me on the camera's LCD screen. It will give you an indication of just what a perfectionist I am and how much this meant to me when I told him that it would look even better if an additional chain was secured from my waist to the leg spreader and then pulled very tight so that the inverted arch of my back was even more extreme. I was absolutely right, and the restriction from this extra chain added enormously to the overall bondage effect.
Matt positioned one camera on its tripod to take in the whole scene, setting it a little off centre so that it faced slightly to my rear rather than my front. Camera two was placed more behind me and it was zoomed in somewhat so that the bottom of the screen starts at my knees, and at the top you can just see the end of the bondage glove. To get an idea of the picture on this camera, look at the middle shot of the photo in the 3rd December 2005 diary entry where I'm bending over a little. Now imagine the camera zoomed in closer with me bent over further, my legs wider apart, and my arms strapped behind my back. The skirt is super-tight and short as in that picture, but instead of zipped panties I'm wearing open crotch ones and you see my totally exposed vagina and anus, both shining with the heavy amount of lube that Matt has applied and pretty much begging for penetration.
The third camera was fixed solely on my face to capture every expression I made during my 'ordeal'. As soon as the recording starts you can clearly see my eyes sparkling with lust and it's also obvious that I'm unconsciously preparing my mouth to accommodate Matt - I'm constantly running my tongue along my glossy lips as if I've already started to lick his prick head.
With all the cameras now recording you see Matt, dressed in black trousers and a tight black polo neck sweater, walk round to me and thrust two large sex toys in front of my face. One is a large black rubber vibrating dildo, and the other is an anal probe - a long black rubber stimulator designed especially for anal pleasure which has a moulded handle and an integral rubber ball at the other end of it.
Here I thought we might have a problem because this was one scenario where I really needed Matt to take the lead and say the right things, which is one reason why I wanted to do this later in the week when he would hopefully be more comfortable with speaking on camera. But I needn't have worried - he was a complete natural. Either he's a born actor or he was simply able to forget the cameras were there.
"Want these up you?" he asks mockingly, stroking the rubber probe along my cheek and placing the dildo head tantalisingly close to my mouth, just beyond my reach.
"Oh God, yes. Please, Matt, I need cock. Give me some cock."
You can see I'm not kidding, and in fact I was by now really desperate for stimulation. Normally I'll massage myself at the drop of a hat when I'm so highly turned on but on this occasion I was utterly helpless, my body immobilised by the bondage glove and chains.
"Oh well, if you want them, I'm not sure I should give them to you," he says cruelly.
"PLEASE, "I beg, the desperation written all over my face. "I need some prick. Anything. Please..."
Matt then calmly walks behind me, seeming to take forever.
"Hmm, I'm not sure..." he says. "I'm not sure you deserve it."
Then, for a moment that I remember as being the worst sort of torture possible, he strokes the end of the dildo against my pussy, up and down, up and down, but with the very lightest of touches, and deliberately avoiding any contact near my clitoris.
Finally, just as I look as if I'm about to scream with frustration he presses the dildo harder against me and you see the head part my lips. He pulls it back, then pushes again, sending it in further. Then once more, and on the fourth push he doesn't hold back and just keeps pushing. The fat black shaft just disappears straight into me with ridiculous ease - it's obvious I must have been soaking with expectation.
"Oh yes," I sigh, and on the face camera you see my eyes close and my mouth open as I submit to this sudden wonderful stimulus.
Matt starts giving my pussy a steady, rhythmical dildo fuck, goading me as he does so.
"Like that do you, slut? Yeah, of course you do. If it's long and hard and shaped like a dick you want it up you, don't you?"
I'm out of control already. Being violated in bondage like this was a shattering experience for me. "Yes, yes. Anyone. Anything. Just give me cock."
Then I practically scream in panic as Matt removes the dildo. I don't realise that its absence is only temporary so my lover can use both hands to insert the rubber probe. But as soon as the new toy touches my rear you see my face light up again in passion.
"Oh yes, baby. Ram it up. Every inch. Give me every inch. The handle too."
Fortunately Matt doesn't take my outburst literally, but simply starts skilfully pleasuring my arse in the way I love. A minute later the dildo is also back inside me -this time switched on - and the buzzing, throbbing rubber cock is gloriously abusing me once again.
"Come on then bitch, let's see you come. I know you can't hold it."
I do manage to hold it - for three more sensational, unforgettable minutes. And then you see my whole body begin to shake followed by what looks like a succession of savage twitches, as though I've had a series of electric shocks. As I found out at that moment, an orgasm when in bondage is quite an experience because you can't 'lean into' the spasms of pleasure in the way you're used to. I wasn't even aware of how loud my shouts were as I came. It was only afterwards when Matt said "Bloody hell, I bet they heard that in the village" that I realised what a noise I must have made.
The orgasm was just incredible, not only because of the restriction but because as I built up to it I had a very good idea of what it must have looked like on film and I knew that I was just about to capture a truly extraordinary moment. My face, the bondage, the double penetration - it was all so perfect, a living dream.
As soon as the drug of climax had worn off I began to feel the severe pain of the constriction I was under. My arms felt as if they were coming out of their sockets and my neck hurt badly too. "Jesus, Matt," I said urgently, "get me out of this position."
Matt quickly unfastened the chains and helped me out of the bondage glove. It was a joy to be able to move again and I waved my arms about to get some feeling back into them.
"I think that's enough of that for today," Matt said, and there was a distinct undertone of disappointment in his voice. The dildo fucking was only part of the planned scene.
I looked at him in amazement. "You're kidding right? You think I want to stop now, after a climax like THAT? Five minutes, that's all I need. Then we finish it."
We rewound and checked the closer range video. "Wow, look at that," I said. "Look how the light's shining on the dildos. Wet rubber. Martin will go crazy."
"You look just awesome," Matt said, shaking his head. "The way you hold your legs like that with your arse high in the air..."
It was actually ten minutes before we started again and I felt the pain in my arms return as soon as I was laced into the bondage glove once more. But I didn't let Matt ease off when he pulled up the chains. I wanted the contortion to be just as great as it was before.
In the remaining part of the scene you first of all see me suck Matt, and here, as he strips off his clothes and feeds his unreal prick into my waiting mouth, the viewer is left in no doubt as to just how beautiful my lover really is. I think it's completely obvious why I'm the one in the submissive position and he's doing the abusing - he's simply the more attractive individual, and I say that in the full knowledge that by most standards I'm considered extremely good looking. It must wreck Martin when he sees these images. If you asked me to try to imagine my husband as the man in that scene where I'm prick-fed in bondage, I'd say I can't. I simply can't.
After five minutes or so Matt withdraws from my mouth and you see him shake his head.
"Look at you," he says, "you're like a bitch on heat. If the postman walked up the drive now, you'd suck him wouldn't you? And you'd let him fuck you."
"Mmm, yes," I moan, "but I want your prick Matt. I want your cock in me."
"No, I don't think so," Matt taunts. "Not yet. I think we need to punish you first for being a bad girl. Have you been a bad girl, Maria?"
"Oh yes, I've been a bad girl. A very bad girl."
"Yeah, I thought so. What do bad girls have done to them? Do you know?"
"They get whipped," I blurt. "They get whipped really hard."
"That's right." Matt says patronisingly. "They get whipped really hard."
Matt then goes out of shot for a few seconds and you see him return holding a leather stranded whip and the same black dildo I had in me earlier. My original plan was to have him discipline me with a riding crop because this gives by far the most erotic sound on video. However, on this one-off occasion I wanted it to be a real whipping and this inevitably meant that there would be some weals on my rear for several days. That would have been fine if we were filming at the end of the week, but I couldn't afford it at the start. So I picked out a whip that would still look and sound good but wouldn't be as fierce.
I was quite clear with Matt: you must be convincing. Let yourself go. I will have to endure a minute or so of considerable but temporary pain, for which I will be rewarded with a film sequence that I will be able to use as a weapon against my husband for the rest of his life, not to mention the endless orgasms I'll enjoy from watching it. Don't hold back, Matt. Pull the rubber skirt down as much as you can to cover my rear, but please don't hold back.
Matt goes behind me once more, starts the dildo buzzing, and reinserts it into my pussy. It slides in just as easily as before. Then he gets a chain, reaches under me, and after clipping it to my belt pulls it forcefully between my legs, thrusting the black rubber toy fully inside me. Once he's clipped the other end of the chain tightly to the rear of my belt, he walks away to the front of me, leaving the imprisoned dildo to do its work.
Matt holds the whip in front of my face and rocks it from side to side.
"You ready for this?" he says and he looks at me really seriously. I don't think he was acting when he said it - this was my last chance to bail out.
"You know I am," I reply, and I look earnestly right into his eyes. Do it, Matt.
"Kiss the whip," he then says, holding it to my mouth. I hadn't asked him to say that, but it was perfect for the scene and I close my eyes and do as he has ordered.
He then goes behind me once again and braces himself. He seems to wait an age, as if trying to sense the perfect moment to begin, and then finally you see his arm swing forward. The whip cracks against my backside with considerable force, accompanied by an awesome sound that seems to echo around the porch. Remember that I've had no idea when this is coming and I've been waiting for what seemed like forever for the first blow. On the front camera you see that the strike takes a moment to properly register, but when it does my face involuntarily contorts with pain.
But it wasn't that bad, and the buzzing cock in my pussy is doing its work. "Oh yes," I say, "fantastic. Harder, Matt. Make me come with the whip. Whip me harder."
Matt gets me with a second blow and this one is definitely more forceful. It lands squarely on the rubber skirt, not my bare flesh, but nevertheless the pain courses right through me and takes my breath away.
"Harder. PLEASE, harder..."
Matt strikes me again, and you see my mouth say "Jesus!", but momentarily I can't get any sound out. My eyes are filling with tears, but then I manage to find my voice.
"I need more, baby. Much more. I want you to shred my skirt. Rip the rubber off my backside."
This line was the signal to Matt that I couldn't take anything harder, and once you see it on film you can understand why. Matt was really lashing me. From this point, although you see me take another eleven blows just as hard, they didn't actually happen in real time as they appear to do on the video. I had to ask Matt to stop after just three more because I wasn't going to achieve orgasm before my tolerance for the pain reached its limit. So Matt played with me for a while - fondling my breasts, talking dirty to me, letting me kiss his prick - until it was clear that I was on the edge of climax. Then he repositioned himself, and with me screaming encouragement he delivered those last eight powerful blows as I finally yielded to the dildo's throbbing stimulus.
That orgasm will live with me forever, as it will with Matt and Martin. I never want to experience a whipping of that intensity ever again but I will never regret doing that scene and would gladly reprise it if we ever lost the files and videotape. It's a fantasy that has grown and grown within me for many years - a wife in bondage who actually climaxes whilst being severely punished by her lover. The thing is, apart from the pauses to give me a break, it's all real. I really took the beating. I really orgasmed while I was being whipped.
Some of you may be reading this and thinking: Er, what's the big deal? But I hope many of you - the husbands mainly - will understand the intense eroticism of that act for me, and what I gave to my boyfriend and took away from my spouse. There was no greater way I could submit to Matt and no greater way I could show Martin the gulf between submissive cuckold husband and dominant lover.
Throughout all the events so far that morning Matt had shown tremendous self-control. I had already experienced three orgasms but he had been required to hold back because I wanted his first full ejaculation to come after a long cock-sucking session that would be filmed in close-up, with the special slow motion camera set up to record the climax in unforgettable detail. But after the thrill of whipping me to orgasm there was no restraining him, and I can't blame him for having to get his release. You see him determinedly walk round to the front of me and roughly put the rubber ball gag into my mouth and buckle the strap that runs through it to the head harness. Then he goes back behind me, unchains and removes the rubber dildo, and while holding his prick in his right hand, pushes it into my wet pussy.
He must have had one of the biggest hard-ons since I first started having sex with him and if I hadn't been so opened up from earlier activities I'm not sure I could have taken it. To my eternal dismay, he didn't have the foresight to move the rear camera to one side so you can see him shafting me at close range (understandably, such considerations were far from his mind at that point). At least the main camera gets all of the scene.
Matt picks up the punishment chains and transfers them into one hand, then takes the dog lead attached to my collar in the other. He pulls all of them tight, and on camera it looks stunning, as he's able thrust his hips forward and lean his upper body right back, the taut chains taking all of his weight. Despite his height he's almost standing on tiptoe because my locked legs and skyscraper heels have left my pussy barely within reach. And then he starts fucking me from behind in earnest. Normally he'd start slowly and let the excitement build, but by now he was far, far too gone for that.
His forward thrusts were so powerful that I'm sure I'd have been knocked over had it not been for the thick hanging chains locking my waist in position and also the counterforce Matt was applying with the penetration chains. But with no dampening effect available, my pussy took the full force of his cock violation and it felt as if I were being split in two. You see my face contort once again but this time, because of the gag, I can't shout or say anything, and all I can do is make guttural squeals and whimpers. I don't give in though - you don't see my legs bend or my body sag. I owed it to my lover to give him the ultimate experience and I knew that despite my tremendous discomfort I had to hold on, because Matt at that moment was having one of the greatest pussy fucks he would ever enjoy. It could only bind us even closer to each other.
As he's about to come Matt releases the dog lead and takes a penetration chain in each hand. You see him pulling on these with all of his considerable strength. His powerful forearm muscles look unreal as they reach the limits of their flex. I can't remember where I bought the belt that was around my waist, but kudos to the makers - I can't imagine how the D-rings withstood the force.
At the moment of ecstasy, Matt gives one big thrust forward and leans his head back with his eyes closed as his cock finally explodes inside me. He holds this position for several seconds and I remember feeling his prick pulsing several times as he released his cum. Then his head comes forward again and he finally speaks, having said nothing throughout the whole affair.
"Y-e-e-s-s. Fantastic. A-h-h-h. Yes..."
After that he makes several more thrusts, grunting as he empties every last ounce of sperm from his balls, but the back and forth motions have begun to slow and the tension in his arms is easing.
When he's done he returns to face me again, removes the ball gag, and guides his cock into my mouth. He doesn't need to ask or demand that I clean his prick after intercourse - it's something I started doing long before this video session, and sucking the last few threads of cum from his penis was a ritual that by then we both took for granted.
"That was the greatest, wasn't it?" he says as he leans down to kiss me.
"Oh yeah," I manage to say before our mouths meet. "Unreal."
We then kiss passionately, but softly, an unspoken recognition between us that the rough, abusive sex is over.
"I love you, baby," he eventually says as our lips part just a fraction. The camera barely picks it up.
"Oh Matt, I love you too. I love you so much."
At that moment I became aware of Matt's cum beginning to leak out of my pussy and another of those delicious shivers went through me as I realised that it was all being captured by the camera for Martin to see. I was by now desperate to be released from bondage, but I couldn't interrupt this moment. Just a couple more minutes, I said to myself. Hold on.
I told Matt to zoom in the rear camera some more so that my dripping cunt would be caught in close up and I also got him to pull a chain between my legs again and fasten it to my belt, just as he had done to trap the dildo in me. It worked absolutely perfectly - you see the cold silver chain part my vagina lips and after twenty seconds or so you see Matt's spunk beginning to dribble from me, working its way between the inner part of the chain links. Semen starts dripping in long threads from various parts of the chain - an awesome, unbelievably kinky sight. I just wish Martin's waiting open mouth could have been there to catch it all.
I'm sure I've bored you to tears by describing this video session in such minute detail, but you have to understand that for me it was an almost perfect experience. We're told that reality never lives up to fantasy, but in my case the opposite has been true thus far. The moment of Martin's cuckolding, when Matt screwed me for the first time, went beyond my wildest dreams; fantasising about my husband feeding on another man's cum cannot begin to compare with actually witnessing the act itself; imagination can't prepare you for the joy of being spanked for the first time, or whipped for the first time, or having a huge prick ejaculate in your mouth for the first time.
And so it was with this bondage scene. Yes, the pain and discomfort were almost unbearable at times and it's not something I'll ever be doing as part of my regular games. But as an act of submission to Matt and as a demonstration to my husband that sexually I have given myself totally to my lover, I can't see the scene ever being topped. I orgasmed while being whipped. Properly whipped. No fakery, no pretence, no holding back. And I begged for it. I begged my lover to punish me to climax. And then there was that penetration. Legs locked apart, arms bound, mouth gagged, head caged, my pussy totally exposed to the whims of my Master's truly huge prick. Martin has now been forced to watch this particular fucking many times. Of all the penetrations he has now seen me take, this one is the knife to the heart... this is THE one.
I feel just about as drained from writing this as I was that day when Matt finally unhooked the chains and released me from bondage, and I haven't even reached the afternoon of the first day. It's clear that if I go into too much detail I'll only be able to describe a fraction of what we did that week, so in the next diary entry I'll try to give a leaner account (if I can) of some of the other fun and games Matt and I played out.
I've probably given the impression that the outdoor bondage scene I described above was the highlight of the week. The thing is though, it wasn't - it was just one of the highlights. Other acts I performed with Matt were equally as momentous for me and I expect you've now begun to appreciate why I expressed doubts at the start of this entry as to the wisdom of posting descriptions of my adventures that week. Maybe I look at these filmed scenes through rose-tinted glasses, and you would just see some badly shot amateur video. But I don't really believe that. I just know that Matt and I made some great stuff together, and because the events of that week have formed the bedrock of Martin's punishment sessions over the past few months, it's essential that you at least have an overview of what went on.
Let me put it another way to get over to you how much that week's filming with Matt means to me. If I could choose to live once again any week that I have lived so far in my life, I would have no hesitation in selecting that one.
It's not even a contest.
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