We settled into a routine, if anything as bizarre as the life we now lived could be called routine. Again and again Sarah would drop in for "visits," taking my wife, using my wife, swinging between amusement and laughter at our predicament, and a strange sympathy. She had genuine affection for my wife, and called her special, extraordinary in her devotion.

"She's special, this one, Rob-O," she told me one night. Erin was lying on her back in front of a seated Sarah; Sarah had her feet resting on Erin. One foot was on Erin's face while the other was on Erin's breasts. Erin was assiduously licking every exposed inch of Sarah's exposed foot on her face, obviously in a fugue of desire and pleasure. Sarah was using the toes of her right foot meanwhile to clumsily pinch Erin's nipples; Erin shuddered in pleasure every time Sarah managed to get off a good one. "I've never had a girl quite like her; never pulled back the curtain so to speak on a show like this. Most of them are cardboard cutouts, garden-variety sluts, boring really. I add and I add, I work and shape and polish and grind and all I get back is a reflection. A concoction if you will, of what I like in a girl. But this one, she was a powder keg waiting to be set off, a gem that only needed to be found and rubbed with a cloth to shine. You never had any idea what a smoldering, simmering passion you had here; you never awoke what slumbered beneath that placid surface. Look at her."

Erin was still working away at that foot, loving it with all her might, pushing up against Sarah's foot with her tongue, but her hands were busy elsewhere.

She was slowly, painfully, gaspingly cramming candle after candle into her distended vagina. Sarah had explained to Erin that every time she said the magic words, her pain tolerance and devotion to Sarah increased. She then went on to tell Erin that she didn't believe Erin really loved her; was thinking about finding a another girl to spend time with who really would care and be obedient, etc etc. Erin had been utterly shattered, weeping and begging for a chance to prove her love, tears and mascara running down her lovely face as she rocked back and forth on her knees, hands help out in supplication. Sarah had finally "relented" and said that if Erin really loved her, she should prove it by cramming as many candles up her cunt as she could. Sexual humiliation and pain are a good way to prove you were really committed, really devoted, she explained, and it would please her if Erin could really stretch herself out, and would she like to? Erin had burst out in profuse gratitude, thanking Sarah again and again, and then rushing out to our china cabinet to pull open the bottom drawer and remove two boxes of long Christmas candles, one box red and one green.

She was doing three things at once: worshipping Sarah's foot with her tongue and mouth, murmuring devotions of love and obedience ("Oh God Sarah I love you." Lick. "Please use me more Sarah." Suck on a toe. "Oh Sarah. Oh Sarah, oh oh oh..."), and feeling around her grossly distended cunt for the place to slide in the next candle. How many did she get in? Eight? Ten maybe, more? The last ones must have hurt dreadfully; it was only then that Erin gasped out the magic words.

"All-all-all I am is Sarah's fuck-toy!" She had felt around, finding a tiny space on one side of her taut lips to force another one in, the words seemed to give her strength and her tentative push became an authoritative thrust. At a certain point the tears started again, flowing freely on either side of her face under Sarah's foot, her body was racked with spasms of pain but she kept on stuffing herself full to show, to prove her love and devotion. She was stiff with the suffering she was inflicting on herself, starting to sweat; her legs, those beautiful, long dancer's legs were corded with effort.

Sarah's mood changed again; she turned tender and pitying.

"Ok honey, it's ok. You did good, real good. Come here to me, I want to show you how happy I am with you." Sobbing with relief both physical and spiritual, Erin awkwardly levered herself up, straining to keep all the candles in her swollen sex until Sarah had her remove them. Erin crawled into Sarah's embrace where she was comforted and petted, crying but smiling, snuffling into Sarah's shoulder while Sarah's hands roamed over her. I sat and watched as my wife, sweet, quiet Erin, my wife, sought solace in the arms of this woman who had ripped our lives out of the frame of normalcy.

Sarah held Erin close, and let her suckle "those pretty breasts, I love them Sarah, they are so much prettier than mine and I am so lucky to be allowed to worship them," while Sarah frigged Erin. As Sarah slid three fingers in and out of my wife's wet center, Erin rocked back against Sarah's hand, while lovingly worshipping Sarah's breasts. "How does that feel honey?"

"Oh Sarah I love having you finger me. It hurts right now, my cunt is so sore and I like that it hurts. It feels so good to be hurt for you and I love you." She went back to nursing on one breast while tenderly rubbing the other. Sarah got her pinkie in, firmly pressing her hand into my wife while grinding the web of her thumb against Erin's clit until Erin came in gasping pleasure and gratitude. Sarah had Erin clean that hand off; my wife licked up her own juices compliantly.

Sarah smiled and looked back at me.

"You see? I didn't so much remake her as liberate her. Tell him, my little lesbian cuntsucker, tell him what it's like to be my fuck toy." Erin get off the couch and crawled over to me, knelt between my legs. It felt awful to have her so close to me, to be so close, almost intimate and know she wasn't mine anymore.

"Honey, I don't think you can ever understand. You are a great husband, a really good man who would make any normal woman happy. I'm not normal though, I never was I see now. Having Sarah hurt my worthless cunt is a joy that I can't adequately express to you in words. She is my lover, my owner, my purpose and center. I don't even give, she just takes because she is so hot and beautiful that worthless little lesbian sluts like me are just like open books to a girl like her." Her right hand was starting to worm its way back between her spread legs. "All I am is a hungry need. I need to suck pussy. I need to worship pretty girl feet; there is nothing more beautiful than sweet girl breasts and their gorgeous asses, and Sarah is the ultimate woman. I wish, I wish I could take our wedding day and trade it in, make it never have happened in exchange for five minutes of performing analingus on Sarah. It makes me sick to think that my virginity went to a man, even a good man. Every part of me should have been kept perfect and pure for Sarah to take as she saw fit. I hate my cunt because a man's dick defiled it, and it expiates my guilt buy having Sarah be rough with it...I am rough with my cunt when I play with myself and I need to. There is only one thing that makes me happy, that keeps me from hating myself." She turned and pointed to Sarah. "Every time I see that ring on her necklace, or think of it, I know what I am. I am a little trophy for Sarah, bagged and mounted. She owns me, and that, oh that," her eyes were closed now, essentially fisting herself in front of me; I could smell her. "She owns me!" Erin bent over, spasming in orgasm, her hair brushing my thigh and knees as she grunted around her hand.

"Get over here honey." Erin recovered herself and folded back into Sarah's embrace, praised and petted for her devotion. "What do you want, little sweet-meat? What do you want your Sarah to do to you?" Sarah held Erin's face in her hands, staring at her in honest inquiry.

"Oh Sarah, you know what I like best, you know what puts me in my place best. I need you to core me with that big dildo, use my ass, not for me but for you, not my satisfaction but your amusement. Sarah, every second I am not full with you I feel empty, brittle, a shell."

It was long and slow, languorous in pace as Sarah used my wife's ass yet again in front of me. For a while Erin just sat in Sarah's lap, impaled on that giant fake dong while Sarah reached around to torment my wife's tits and slit. They made love anally, face to face Erin contorted, her legs thrown way up, and finally in Erin's favorite position, dorsally, bent over, ass angled up by some cushions, her hands claws of passion as Sarah drilled her.

This was the routine of my life then, the unhappiest time of my life. Erin never went to any Battalion functions; she told me she didn't want to embarrass me "sniffing under the skirts of all those slutty little officer's wives. I just couldn't control myself honey." Everyone in the unit knew we were having "problems;" I endured the exquisitely painful and awkward misery of my Battalion CO trying to counsel me, never quite saying anything but making sure I knew he was always there, you know, if I wanted to talk.

The only break in my misery came from Amy. I am ashamed of what I did with her; I know how rotten I can be. Erin "trained" her to be a first rate cocksucker. "Amy is a very dirty girl; her little girlslit gets all wet now if you even mention sucking dick," Erin told us smilingly one night. She reached down to slide her hand into the pouch of the satin panties Amy was wearing, and drew out her fingers wet from her dew. She laughed as she fed Amy her own juices, and asked, "Why do you get wet when you think about sucking my husband's dick, you little slut?" Amy looked down, ashamed, an in a soft voice said,

"Because I know it means you will let me suckle from you Miss Erin and I love you so much and want to make you feel good."

"Liar! Liar. You get wet because it's nasty, because you get off being made to do nasty things. I could cut you off from my pussy forever and you would still want to suck dick, to have me make you suck dick. You need to be told what to do, and the sicker it is the more it shows your compliance. Isn't that right, Amy Cocksucker?"

Amy looked up now, eyes bright with tears.

"Yes."

"Do it, slut. Show my husband how much you crave the taste of jizz down your throat, how willing you are to suck cock for me." God help me, she did. Those delicate little hands feverishly gripped my cock, those sweet young lips started sucking. Her head bobbed up and down, I could tell the scene, her obedience was turning her on so much. "Tell him slut! Amy Cocksucker! Tell my husband the truth about sucking dick!"

Her mouth came off as she looked into my eyes; she kept pumping the slick hardness of my cock.

"I love doing this Mr. Bob. I love, I love being made to suck cock. I think about it sometimes at night, when I can't touch myself and my cunt gets so wet. When you come in my mouth I know what a slut I am. Thank you for helping me learn to be controlled better...thank you!" She went back to her job, firmly stroking me off into her mouth, sucking and licking hungrily. My wife came up behind her, cupping the young girl's sex, slipping her hands under Amy's panties on either side, fingering Amy to orgasm as Amy sucked me dry.

One other incident from that year stands out in my mind; our anniversary. It was to be a huge day for Erin, as the day got closer she talked more and more about how she was sorry to hurt me, but how meaningful our anniversary date was. The tension highlighted her compete adoration of Sarah; she would spend her anniversary night not with her husband, but serially impaled on another woman's strap-on cock. Nothing could sum up more ably her complete and utter subsumption to Sarah's will.

When the night came, Erin spent a long time at her toilet, explaining to me that she needed to shave herself smooth everywhere make herself clean "inside and out" for her owner. She came downstairs in a white blouse, a medium length suede skirt that was so narrow and tight it hobbled her steps, and calf boots with heels. She wore her pearls, her hair subtly teased out.

Usually it hung straight, glossy and chestnut; now it was fuller in volume and slightly unkempt, as if she had shook it out. Clearly she had no bra on, and I doubted she wore panties.

She sat down next to me; I remember clearly that I was reading Pressfield's "Gates of Fire."

"I'm sorry Bob. I have to go, you know I have to. Sarah instructed me to give this to you. She told me to tell you that I would spend my anniversary night hopping from dyke bar to dyke bar; I have quotas of how many femmes and lipsticks I need to go down on tonight to earn my use from Sarah. She didn't want you to have nothing to do. She said this video was supposed to hurt, but also please you. She said Bob, she means it, she wants to use you, not just torture you."

She dropped the VCR tape on the table in front of me, picked up her keys and purse, and walked away. The last sound I heard of her for two days was the click of her heels on the parquet floor in the foyer.

The tape was titled in black magic marker "Anniversary Tape," and with a dry mouth I put it in. I settled in to watch whatever sickness Sarah had in store for me. Video now, and then a home interior, presumably Sarah's. Two women were in the picture, one kneeling on a sofa edge so that her out thrust ass and high heel shoes showed; the other girl was face deep in that ass, licking and sucking for all she was worth. When she had satisfied the woman she was performing analingus on (Sarah; I knew every curve of her body), she turned to face the camera. Her chin was wet.

"My name is Erin Montgomery, and I want anyone who sees this tape to know that I am a willing lesbian sex slut. I exist for one purpose; to worship, serve and please my owner Sarah. She dominates me in every way, because she is powerful, sexually magnificent and because she had the eyes to see what a cuntsucker in waiting I was. I am married to a man who tried to please me with his inferior man-cock, but he never touched my heart, my soul. I endured his touches because I thought that is what good wives do, but all it took was one encounter with Sarah to completely change my life. One fuck and I was hooked; now I would do anything for her, have done everything for her, because she rules me and satisfies me in a way no man ever could. She showed me the truth of who I am. I am a lipstick lesbian fuckslut who needs girl sex all the time."

At this point, Sarah came back into the picture, standing next to a kneeling Erin; she wore black glasses and a beret, red high heel pumps, and the biggest dildo I had ever imagined. It made the giant one she had used so many times on Erin before look like a trifle. It seemed ludicrous to me, how could any human take something that big, especially in their anus? As Erin continued talking, Sarah turned her to one side, so that Erin was profiled to the camera. Her head turned to face the camera; she continued to talk while Sarah began to roughly grease her up. "I never, ever let my husband in my ass, I never even let him touch me there; I thought it was dirty. It is dirty, which is why Sarah fucks my ass so often; she knows I will joyfully spread my cheeks so she can violate my most intimate hole. Knowing that I am giving my ass to my mistress; what I never gave to my husband makes my cunt leak like a sieve. Everything for Sarah; there is nothing she can't take from me." At this point Sarah had greased up her monstrous black dick; she needed two hands to encircle it, the girth was astounding. She had almost her whole hand in Erin's ass, squirting lube directly in after a few moments. She dropped the tube, leaned forward over Erin's arched back, and said softly,

"Talk dirty to me sweetie."

"Oh Sarah, please put that monster in my. Every day I pray for it, that you will think I am broken enough to your will that you core me with that thing. I'm afraid of it, I'm afraid of how much it is going to hurt, and I want it for that reason. I need to be hurt in my ass to show you how much I love you. When you..." Here her voice stopped for a second and she gasped; Sarah was slowly but steadily pushing the head of that obscenity into my wife's ass. "Oh Sarah, oh please, oh..." Her eyes closed shut in pain, and still Sarah pushed in. The cameraman (no, woman) zoomed in on the point where black rubber dick disappeared into Erin's bowels. I was terrified at how wide she was being distended. I came then; I had been furiously masturbating. "Oh yes Sarah oh yes I can feel you in me like I never, oh it is like you told me oh Sarah I love you! I love you so much! Only you could fuck my ass like this, only you could break me, break me break make me like this. Uh-h-h-h..." At some point in her confessions the pain and intensity literally rendered Erin speechless; her mouth was open, her lips moving but no sound coming out. Sarah was completely in, starting to draw out for her next stroke. All Erin could do was move her head back in forth in that silent scream, drool trailing from her mouth. I realized that Erin was pushing back, helping Sarah rip her open, after only a few strokes Erin shuddered in orgasm. Sarah fucked her and fucked her, bringing her slave to her peak again and again, laughing that delightful, sprightly laugh from time to time. Erin got her voice back at some point, wildly shouting out in a hoarse voice how deep Sarah was in her, how she could feel it in her stomach, her intestines where being deranged, and again and again how much she loved Sarah.

Sarah, Sarah, Sarah.

I came again and again, ashamed at myself but so turned on by Sarah that I couldn't help myself. How I longed to touch Sarah, to hold that gorgeous body; I was grateful for the crumbs she threw me. I watched the tape until I feel asleep, Erin's confessions of who she loved ringing in my ear.