At Abbey’s mercy.

George shuddered as he looked at his beautiful buxom wife over him. “So?” she asked.

“Tonight is about you,” he said as she squeezed his cock.

“Good,” she smiled, moving back to being soft on his cock. “So, I’m going to suck your cock now, don’t cum. But while I do, you are going to tell me a story. If I love the story, I will let you cum. If I like the story, I will ride you but not let you cum. If I don’t like the story, well, maybe I will leave the cuff on your cock until you come up with a story I like.”

He groaned again as she slowly crawled down his body. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he said.

She looked up at him and smiled, “Should I stop?” he shook his head no, “right, then, considering the stories you have already agreed to, tell me a new one.”

As he struggled to think of something original, she sucked on his cock head, and he moaned. After a few moments of him not talking, he felt her teeth on his cock slowly getting harder. “Ok, ok,” he said. “There is a husband and wife,” he began.

As he went to continue, she pulled back. “Their names?”

He moaned at her words. He knew what she wanted to hear, “George and Abbey,” he said. “Abbey is fair-skinned and busty, has always wanted to be more of a slut but was worried about what her husband and the rest of society would say.” She moaned onto his cock in approval, and he continued. “One night, she was telling him about how one of her girlfriends had gotten ganged, and she confessed she wouldn’t mind trying it but couldn’t do so because of what people would think of her. She was surprised when her devout husband got aroused and suggested they could organise it.”

Abbey licked his length from the cuff up; her soft tongue felt incredible against the tenderness of the spikes. “She protested that she couldn’t have people thinking she was a slut, and he said he might have a solution. Oh, God Abbey I don’t know if I can not cum.” She bit his cock hard, and he yelped before he laughed, “Ok, that helped.” After a few more moments, he continued. “George suggested she could play at being hypnotised, that they could set it up so their male friends thought that when she was drunk, she would be susceptible.”

Abbey moaned again, and George watched her slide a hand into her panties. “His idea was simple, they could have a party and invite mostly men, and when the night started to thin out, and both were playing drunk, he could suggest he could hypnotise her, and she would follow any command. When the time came, their friends were dubious, but he called her in and suggested it. She laughed at him wanting to show off his hypnotism but went along with it.”

He arched and shuddered, and suddenly she bit him again. “God, I’m not sure if I love that or hate it.” She repeated it, and he groaned. “So he made a show of hypnotising her, giving her a trigger phrase,” before he could continue, she pulled her mouth back.

“And what was the phrase?” she asked.

He groaned in frustration as he pulled against his restraints, “Fuck, um,” he began as she went back to his cock. “Pistachio ice cream.”

Abbey leant up and laughed, “Pistachio Ice-cream, ok, well it’s your fantasy.”

“He went through the show and then got her to do some stupid things, you know, cluck like a chicken shit. His friends laughed but protested that that doesn’t show he could get her to do anything. He smiled back at them, acting drunk and told them fine. Abbey take your top off.” His arms were tense against the chains as he shuddered. “To their friend’s amazement, she did exactly that. They hooted at seeing her big tits. They had wanted to for years.” George knew he was about to cum, but kept his mouth shut. Unfortunately for him Abbey recognised the signs as well and bit him again.

“Fuck, I’m going to fucking burst at this rate.” He protested before taking a breath and continuing. “The night continued how they had planned, whenever he was out of the room, out of earshot, his friends would say ‘Pistachio ice-cream’ and push her further. She loved it, being the centre of attention, having men order her to let them grope her. Then one of her female friends who were still there suggested she would keep George busy for a while and ordered Abbey to blow the remaining guests.”

“God, Abbey please let me cum?” he begged. She bit him again, and he groaned before continuing. “She followed the instructions and blew every last guy there except for her husband. When the party was over, and she told George everything, he came without even touching himself. He apologised, and she told him not to worry as she had cum just from sucking cock.”

He bucked up into her mouth, and she pulled back, “None of that,” she said, “is that it? Or is there more?”

His mind scrambled for only a moment before he continued, and so did his wife. “They thought that would be it, but the next day she ran into one of their friends shopping who asked her if she wanted some pistachio ice cream. She froze in surprise, which he took as her falling under the trance. He told her to come to his car, where he fucked her. When they were done, he said, ‘pistachio ice cream, flush your pills and come visit me each day. Suddenly she realised she was stuck. The only questions were whether to tell George and whether to actually flush her pills.”

Abbey moaned onto his cock as she came, and then she pulled her head back. “So, did she discard her pills? Did she become a slut for their friends, acting like she was in a trance every time they wanted her?”

George shuddered, “I guess that is a story for another time,” he said.