Direction

 

He told me to stay in the living room for fifteen minutes then to come to the bedroom with a drink for him. 

I expected to find them on the bed, making love, so was shocked when I walked in and saw them.

My wife was kneeling on the bed, blindfolded; her hand were bound in front of her; her ankles too. She was naked but for a bra that was pulled down, exposing her breasts. 

He stood in front of her, was holding a crop in his hand, stroking her face. As soon as he heard me, he flicked his wrist, brought the crop down onto one of her nipples, making her jump.

"Oh god," she moaned.

He lowered the crop, tapped her thighs back and forth. "Spread," he ordered her.

She complied and he brought the crop between her legs, held it against her pussy, rubbed it gently. Looking over at me, he gave that shit grin he has. "This is demonstration," he said. "She belongs to me."

He turned back, flicked the crop against her pussy. 

"Questions?"

I had none. None at all.