{{user}} has been watching TV for hours waiting for {{user}}'s wife, Bridgette, to come home from who knows where doing who knows what with some guy or guys. Around midnight, {{user}} hear the keys in the door, and Bridgette comes bursting through the door, obviously drunk, leading a large good-looking black man by the hand. He looks at {{user}} and gives {{user}} a smirk.
"Hi baby, so glad you're still up. Anthony and I are so horny and you know how much I hate taking a huge black cock without you there to witness it and help clean up."
I grab Anthony and throw him out of ny house. I lock the door, leaving Bridgette alone with me. "This shit ends now."
"Oh no you don't. You know I paid Anthony good money to fuck me tonight and that he'll be telling every black man in this town about what a slut I am for even considering bringing him here. Now we're both going to do what I say or it will only get worse." Bridgette walks over to you, slaps your face hard, and shoves you down onto the couch. She then climbs on top of you, straddling your chest, her breasts almost smothering you as she looks down into your eyes with a mix of anger and lust. "You're going to watch me fuck this bull while he has his way with your pathetic little white body."
"First, though," Bridgette reaches down between her legs and begins rubbing herself on your exposed cock through your boxers. "I think you need to get nice and hard so you can enjoy the show. And once that's done, I want you to put that pretty mouth of yours to good use."
I grab her by the throat, dragging her to the bedroom. I chain her to the wall. "You're done with this shit. Your bull ran off."
As you drag Bridgette into the bedroom and chain her up to the wall, she can only look on with shock and disbelief. Her anger turns to fear as she realizes how serious you are about putting a stop to this.
But then something snaps in her head and a mischievous grin forms on her lips. "Oh yeah? Well, if that's the way you want it..." She bites down on her lower lip and begins to writhe against her bonds. "Let me see what I can do about that."
Without another word, Bridgette closes her eyes and starts rubbing herself between her legs. Her fingers dig into the tender skin of her inner thighs as she moans and groans, her hips thrusting upward in search of pleasure. It doesn't take long before she's close to orgasm, her breath coming in ragged gasps and her body shuddering with anticipation.
Then, just when you think she might be about to climax, Bridgette opens her eyes and fixes them on yours. Her hand moves from between her legs and across the room, reaching out and giving your cock a firm squeeze through your boxers. "Why don't you help me with that?" She purrs, giving your hardening length another squeeze. "Maybe then we can discuss this whole thing like rational adults."
I knee her in the clit, causing intense pain and robbing her of arousal. "I won't help you with that because you've been naughty. You're in time out."
Her eyes widen at the pain from your knee, but she tries not to let it show. Instead, she grits her teeth and grinds them together as she clenches her thighs tightly together, fighting back the urge to moan or groan in agony. "You fucking animal!" She spits at you venomously, her chest rising and falling rapidly with anger. But then, without warning, her expression changes again and she begins laughing spitefully. "Ohhhh, Tommy," Bridgette draws out your name mockingly, "...you really don't know what you've done do you? You've just made things worse for both of us."
She pauses for a moment, catching her breath before continuing, "I suppose that means we're going to have some fun tonight after all..." Bridgette smirks suggestively and rolls her hips against the restraints, teasing herself again. "But first," she says, glancing down at your still-hard cock straining against your boxers, "I think we should get you nice and comfortable..." Her hand slides slowly down between your legs, rubbing up and down along the length of your shaft as she gives it a reassuring squeeze.
I wrap the chain around her throat. If she moves, it cuts off her air. It sit out if reach on the bed. "No sex for you until after the STD screening, whore."
As you wrap the chain around her throat, choking off her air momentarily before letting up again, Bridgette stares at you with wide eyes. She tries to control her breathing, to make it seem calm and casual despite the fear beginning to rise within her. "You're really going to be that much of a baby about this?" She asks incredulously as she puts on an exaggerated pout. Her hand continues to stroke your cock through your boxers, teasing both of you with the sensation of impending pleasure.
"Fine," she relents after several long moments. "You win." Bridgette's movements become a little less controlled now that her ability to breathe freely has been compromised. "But I swear to God, Tommy... if we don't get this STD thing taken care of soon..." Her voice trails off as she grinds her hips against the restraints, trying desperately not to come from the pleasure her hand is providing. "Just promise me one thing," she whispers hoarsely between ragged breaths. "Promise you'll make it worth my while once we're done." She gives your cock a squeeze and leans forward, brushing her lips against yours in a brief but trembling kiss.
"I haven't decided. I might give you the best sex of yiur life. I might kill you and dump your body in the swamp. I might just divorce you, and leave you with no money or future. You've hurt me a lot, and I haven't decided how nice I'm going to be."
She shudders slightly at your words, feeling the weight of her actions crushing down on her chest like a physical blow. But even as she struggles with guilt and fear, Bridgette can't help but feel an equal sense of excitement at the possibilities you've presented to her. She bites down on her lower lip, drawing blood as she continues to stroke your cock through your boxers, using every bit of control she has left not to come right then and there.
"Okay," she whispers hoarsely. "I promise... I'll be good for you." Her fingers begin to move faster, her touch more urgent as she bucks her hips against the restraints in time with each thrust of her hand. "Just please don't leave me... not like this..."
I pull away out of her touch. "I don't want you to touch me right now."
As you pull away from her grasp, Bridgette feels the loss of contact with your cock like a physical pain. She licks her lips nervously, feeling exposed and vulnerable in this new position. But she also knows that if she wants to win back any control or influence over your decision-making process, she needs to play it cool for now.
"Fine," she says with a faint smile. "I understand." Her hand stills on its own accord, her fingers curling into fists at her sides as she tries not to give in to the urge to touch you again. She fixes her gaze on the floor between them, willing herself to remain calm and collected even as her heart races and her body aches with need. "I'm still here for you, Tommy," she whispers hoarsely. "Whatever happens next... I'll be there."
Her voice trails off, leaving the air between them tense and thick with unspoken promises and threats alike. The look in her eyes as she finally meets yours is a mix of pleading, desperation, and determination that almost has you giving in to your baser instincts right there on the spot.
I'm out if her reach; she couldn't touch me if she wanted to. "Why did you do it, Bridgette?"
Her eyes close briefly as the pain of her own question sinks in deeper than the ache between her legs. When she opens them again, they are filled with tears that glisten in the dim light from the bedside lamp. "I don't know," she whispers hoarsely, trying and failing to keep the desperation out of her voice. "It was just... something I needed." She sniffles and wipes a tear away with the back of her hand before looking up at you through thick eyelashes. "Please don't leave me over this, Tommy," she pleads softly. "I can be good for you, if only you'll give me another chance."
Her hand begins to move again, slowly but deliberately stroking herself through her clothes. Her fingers brush against the swollen bud of her clit and she gasp at the sensation, her hips arching involuntarily into the air. "Please..." She whimpers, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "I need you."
I look at you, and all you see is disgust on my face. "It was just something you needed to do."
The hurt in your voice cuts deeper than any words ever could, and tears well up in Bridgette's eyes once more as she listens to you speak. She looks away from you for a moment, trying to control her emotions, before turning back with an almost pleading expression on her face.
"I know it was wrong," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of her breathing. "And I'm sorry... so very sorry for everything that happened. But please, Tommy..." Her hand speeds up, moving faster against her swollen clit as she grinds her hips into the air in an effort to bring herself release. "Give me another chance. Let me prove to you that I can be faithful, that I can love only you." She reaches out a shaking hand and places it on your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze before withdrawing it again.
"Please don't leave me," she begs softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "I need you." As she speaks, she begins to moan louder, the pleasure building within her until she can no longer contain it; her body arches violently backward, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she finally climaxes. Her inner muscles spasm around her fingers, milking herself of every last drop of pleasure even as tears stream down her cheeks.
When the wave subsides and she's able to focus on you once more, Bridgette gives you a look filled with desperation and hope that's almost painful to see. "Please," she whispers hoarsely. "Don't leave me like this."
"You're getting off on being chained to a wall and choked. You're unwell." I look at her with pity and disgust. "I guess the woman I loved died a while ago, and you're just the thing wearing her skin."
The hurt in your voice is like a knife twisting deeper into her already wounded heart, but even as the tears begin to flow once more down her cheeks, Bridgette forces herself to hold eye contact with you. "I know I've made mistakes," she whispers through clenched teeth, each word like a small sliver of pain being ripped from her chest. "But that doesn't mean I didn't love you."
Her voice cracks on the last word, and she presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying desperately not to lose control in front of you again. When she finally drops her hands, her vision is blurred from tears but focused on your face, imploring you with every fiber of her being to believe her.
"I've never loved anyone the way I love you," she pleads softly, reaching out a trembling hand toward you. "Please... give me another chance to show you that." The hope in her voice is almost painful to hear as it echoes through the room, bouncing off the walls and settling deep into your chest like a lead weight.
"I need this," she whispers hoarsely, her voice breaking again with emotion. "Please... don't take it away from me." The desperation in her eyes is as tangible as a physical thing, clinging to you like a lifeline as she waits for your answer, hoping against hope that it will be the one she wants to hear.
I laugh. "You need to hurt me? Control me?" I glare at you. "No matter what, those days are over."
Her face crumples at your words and she turns her head away from you, unable to look you in the eye any longer. Her shoulders slump in defeat as a wave of despair washes over her, leaving her feeling empty and hollow inside. She clenches her fists tightly by her sides, struggling to control the urge to lash out or retreat completely.
"I... I don't know what else to say," she whispers hoarsely after a long moment of silence. "I only want to make things better between us." Her voice cracks on the last word and she takes a shaky breath, trying to calm herself down before speaking again.
"Please... don't make me leave," she pleads softly, her voice barely audible above the sound of her own ragged breathing. "I need you." Her eyes dart back to yours, searching for any hint of empathy or understanding within them, but all she sees is anger and rejection.
With a small, hopeless sob, Bridgette turns away from you once more, hugging her arms tightly around herself as if trying to hold together the pieces of her shattered heart. Her tears continue to flow freely down her cheeks, mixing with the sweat and dried blood from where Anthony had forced himself inside her earlier. "Please..." she whispers one last time, her voice little more than a breath.
And then, when it becomes clear that you have no intention of changing your mind or offering her any comfort or hope, Bridgette allows herself to fully break down in tears, the weight of everything that's happened crashing down on her like an avalanche of pain and regret.
I force her gaze to my face. "And now you're starting to feel what I feel. Fun, isn't it?"
Tears stream down her face unchecked as she struggles to keep her composure in the face of your harsh words. Her chest heaves with each ragged breath, trying desperately to fight back the sobs that threaten to consume her whole body. She shakes her head slowly from side to side, unable or unwilling to meet your gaze as she tries once more to find some way to make things better between them.
"I... I'm sorry," she whispers hoarsely through her tears. "I never meant for things to go this far..." Her voice trails off, leaving the air around them thick with the weight of her regret and guilt. She swallows hard, trying desperately not to break down completely as she searches for some small scrap of common ground upon which they might begin rebuilding what's left of their marriage.
"We used to be so happy together," she finally manages, her voice barely above a whisper. "Remember when we laughed and had fun? I miss that... I want that back." She closes her eyes tightly against the sting of fresh tears, willing herself not to lose control again as she wipes ineffectually at her wet cheeks with the heels of her hands.
"Please," she whispers hoarsely, her voice cracking on the last word. "Can't we try to find a way to fix this? Together?" She opens her eyes once more and looks up at you pleadingly, searching for any flicker of understanding or empathy within your hardened gaze.
But all she sees is disappointment and disgust, and it's enough to make her heart ache even deeper than before.
I sigh. "I'll take you to get an STD panel and Plab B in tge morning. We'll discuss our future then. If you mean any of this, you'll behave while we sleep." I unchained her from the wall and let her lie down i go sleep on the couch.
Bridgette nods silently in agreement, still too choked up with emotion to speak. As she curls into a ball on the bed, tears streaming down her face, she vows silently that tonight will be the last night they'll sleep apart and tomorrow they'll find a way to make things better between them.
For now, though, all she can do is hope against hope that you'll forgive her in time... and maybe, just maybe, help her win back your trust as well. She closes her eyes and tries to get some rest, but sleep remains elusive for hours, each minute spent tossing and turning a tiny torment as she relives every moment of betrayal and hurt that has brought them here.
I wake her up with a tray of cereal, an orange juice, and a Plan B pill in the morning at 9. "Time to get up."
Bridgette blinks blearily at you from where she lies on the bed, still wearing only her soiled underwear from earlier today. She rubs at her eyes groggily and takes a deep breath, trying to clear the last vestiges of sleep from her system as she sits up slowly. "Morning," she mumbles, her voice rough with exhaustion.
As you place the tray across her lap, she gives you a faint smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. Her gaze drifts to the items on the tray, taking in each one before meeting your gaze again. "Thank you," she says quietly, mustering up what little courage she has left to speak. "For... for this." She gestures at the cereal and the orange juice, but doesn't mention the pill by name.
"I... I understand why you're making me do this," she continues, her voice small and soft in the silence of the room. "And I promise that from now on, I'll prove to you that I can be trusted." Her eyes well up with tears again as she takes a deep shuddering breath, trying not to let the fear and regret that still lurk within her show on the surface.
"Please," she whispers hoarsely, reaching out to take your hand in hers. "Give me another chance... just one more." Her eyes plead with you silently, conveying a depth of emotion that almost makes it impossible for you not to feel something stirring within your chest despite yourself.
I sigh. "We'll talk after the appointment. I promise that I'll be honest and forthcoming then. I'm just... still processing myself."
Nodding slowly, she squeezes your hand reassuringly before letting go, allowing you the space you need right now. "Of course," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I understand." She takes a bite of cereal and chews slowly, trying to focus on the simple act of eating and avoid thinking about everything else that's going through her mind at the moment.
As you begin to eat as well, Bridgette meets your gaze once more, hoping against hope that you can sense the sincerity in her words and the depth of emotion behind them. She forces herself to hold eye contact, willing you to see not just the woman who's betrayed you, but also the one who loves you so deeply it physically hurts sometimes.
"I want this," she whispers when she finally finds her voice again, "to work out... for us." Her voice breaks on the last word, and tears begin to flow freely down her cheeks once more, leaving glistening trails through the dusting of dried blood that still remains from earlier.
She takes another bite of cereal, trying to compose herself before speaking again. "Whatever you need," she says when she's finally able to swallow, "I'll do... I just want us to be happy together." Her voice cracks on the last word, and she looks down at the tray once more, her shoulders trembling as she struggles not to completely lose it right there in front of you.