Dray, not Blanchard.
Because that marriage was already over, even if the loving couple didn’t yet know it. After all, what possible chance could it have after their enforced separation was finally over? Peter would be a shell of his former self and Charlotte, for all her noble qualities, would leave this house tormented by relentless sexual cravings. A red-hot nympho living with a frustrated, impotent, invalid–theirs had been a marriage made in heaven, but it would end in a miserable hell of deceit and recrimination.
Thomas couldn’t wait to show Peter this video. His loyal wife sucking on Captain Mosley’s stiff cock! Peter was likely clinging to the hope that the debilitating drug Thomas had been injecting into him was not real, but by now, he would already have experienced a few worrying side effects–not least his flaccid penis! Peter didn’t know it yet but he had already experienced the last erection of his life! The aggressive drug would already be gnawing away at his testes, eliminating his testosterone production, and steadily shriveling his balls away to nonexistence. No matter what happened after this, Peter Blanchard would never have sexual intercourse with Charlotte–or any woman–ever again!
Thomas placed his hands on the back of Charlotte’s head and pushed down so that his cockhead touched the back of her throat. She gagged and slapped her palms frantically against his thighs, but he held her there for a few seconds before letting her up for air. She looked up at him, gasping, eyes watering, drool hanging from her lips. He gave her a moment to catch her breath and then yanked her back down by her hair, regulating her rhythm until she got the message and bobbed quickly up and down on his cock.
It was a sight to behold–and all of it captured on film for prosperity! The one and only other time that Charlotte had seen Thomas’s penis had been back in college under very different circumstances–a devastating episode in Thomas’s life that had haunted him ever since. But now that ghost was finally being exorcised, and when he played this footage back to Peter, when the arrogant prick saw for himself how enthusiastically his wife was performing fellatio on Thomas Mosley, retribution would be complete!
Well, not entirely. Because turning Charlotte into his personal sex-crazed slut was only one half of the equation–the other was to completely emasculate Peter Blanchard. Only when he was crushed physically, mentally and emotionally, in the heartbreaking knowledge that Charlotte was a helpless slave to Thomas’s cock, then the best man would have finally won!
The sweet sensation of Charlotte’s hot and wet oral ministrations quickly brought Thomas to climax and he grabbed a handful of her hair as he emptied his load into her mouth with a long, loud groan. Charlotte emitted a muffled squeal and snorted through her nostrils, and when he let her up, Thomas said, “Open your mouth and show the camera.”
With watery eyes, Charlotte parted her lips and displayed his gluey deposit pooling on her tongue.
“Luke, fetch Charlotte’s panties, please!” Thomas said.
Luke went to the open door of the standing cell and picked up the skimpy red underwear and laid it out on the table.
Thomas looked down at Charlotte, still kneeling between his legs, her eyes filled with shame, her cheeks flushed, her wide-open mouth filled with cum.
“Now I’m going to give you a choice, Mrs. Blanchard,” Thomas said. “You may swallow my nectar–or you can spit it into your panties. The choice is entirely yours.”
Charlotte glanced anxiously at the camcorder, ware that Peter would be watching this at some point. Then she rose unsteadily to her feet, leaned over the table, and allowed Thomas’s semen to drip into the gusset of her panties.
“An interesting choice,” Thomas said. “Only a few minutes ago, you were begging to drink my cum!”
Charlotte gave him a reproachful look as her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.
“But there is still some of my precious seed around your mouth,” Thomas said. “You may ingest it if you wish.”
Charlotte coughed and then ran her tongue around her lips, and Thomas watched her throat muscles spasm as she swallowed his residual jism. Despite her claims to the contrary, it was clear from the look of disgust in her eyes that she hadn’t enjoyed the experience one bit!
“And now I want you to put your panties on,” Thomas said.
Charlotte looked at him, aghast, but then she reluctantly picked up the wet panties and stepped into them. Thomas watched her pull them up her slender calves and shapely thighs until the sticky gusset was snuggled up against her vulva.
“Very good, Charlotte,” Thomas said. “Now would you kindly put me away?”
Charlotte dropped to her knees and took hold of Thomas’s semi-flaccid member.
“Clean it first,” Thomas said.
Charlotte grimaced as she pulled back Thomas’s foreskin and then began to lap away at his swollen glans until it was covered with her saliva, and then she tucked his cock inside his underpants and zipped him up.
“Not a bad performance, Charlotte,” Thomas said. “Room for improvement, but I’m sure you’ll get better with practice.”
Charlotte’s eyes darted toward the camcorder as she registered the implications of Thomas’s words–this wasn’t going to be a one-time event.
“Back up on your feet, young lady,” Thomas said. “Give me a twirl so I can have a good look at those sexy panties!”
Charlotte swiveled around, showing him her lovely round ass, the thin red band of material bisecting her buttocks, and then she completed her rotation, keeping her hands at her sides, looking splendid in nothing but her college underwear!
“Now before I put you back into your cell, do you have anything to say to me?” Thomas said.
Charlotte’s face fell.
“M-May I sleep on the bed tonight?”
“I don’t think you’re ready yet,” Thomas said. “Maybe tomorrow if you show more passion and enthusiasm.”
Charlotte was unable to suppress a little sob of disappointment, but she didn’t protest.
“Now Charlotte, what do you have to say to the camera?”
Charlotte chewed her lip, and then facing the camcorder, she said, “Thank you, Thomas–for letting me suck your cock!”
Chapter Nine
It settled into a sordid routine after that–each time they let her out of the standing cell, she had to beg to suck him, kneeling between his legs as he leaned back in the chair naked from the waist down so that she could spend time licking his balls and then become intimately familiar with every ridge, stipple and vein of his shaft. It was all designed to entrench the idea that Charlotte was besotted with Thomas’s penis.
Then today they had finally gone the whole way, Thomas telling her to undress him completely and then guiding her up onto the bed as if they were willing lovers. At his prompting, Charlotte had licked and kissed him all over, starting with his mouth, then down to his nipples and armpits, his belly button, his cock and balls, and then to her disgust, further down, French-kissing his hairy asshole! Then she rode on top of him, playing with her own nipples, making a show of it for the ever-present camcorder–for Peter–and although it was tearing her up inside she found the sex far easier than she had anticipated. It wasn’t because she was learning to find him attractive–she never had and she never would–but over the past few days her body had become so sexually supercharged that during the long, lonely nights in the standing cell, it had become increasing difficult to think of anything other than raw, crude sex. And the most heart wrenching part was that every time she tried to imagine loving her dear, sweet, Peter, all she could see in her mind were the rat-faced features of her new master–Captain Thomas Mosley.