The straight-laced wife of a stuffy minister is sexually liberated

I can’t believe what I’m doing!

I know I’ll be going to hell when I die, but I just
can’t make myself care. I feel freer and more alive
than I ever have. I’m tingling all over.

I’m lying nude on my side in bed with an ex-con named
Wade Masterson, the strongest, most masculine man I’ve
ever been close to. I have his enormous cock in my
right hand, stroking it up and down. He’s telling me
how he likes it done — and incredibly, I’m obeying
him, shamelessly! My left hand is cupped around his
powerful balls, lightly, playfully “bouncing” them up
and down.

My poor husband Frank Willis, the minister of Angelfire
Baptist Church who preaches about the flames of hell
every Sunday, is also naked, tied to a chair facing the
bed and watching us. He’s straining to get loose but
Wade has him tied so tight and securely it would take
him a week to free himself. His eyes are blazing with
jealousy but he knows there’s nothing he can do about
it.

He’s making these pathetic little whimpering noises,
but strangely, his little dick is standing at attention
as he watches me applying baby oil and jacking this
burly, macho guy.

Even the sound of Wade’s low, resonant voice sends
chills rippling through my body. He’s telling me how he
wants me to work him.

“Faster… yeah, that’s it faster, faster… Okay, now
ease up. Slow down. Slower… Yeah. Work it nice and
slow… Okay faster… Slower…”

And as I try to keep up with his instructions, I keep
getting over-excited and losing control. I speed up
when he says slow down without meaning to. Just when I
settle into a nice jacking rhythm he orders me to
change the pace and I can’t keep up.

And worst of all, when I screw up, Wade and I both
laugh.

I know it’s so naughty and cruel to laugh and play like
this with my poor husband watching, but I just can’t
help it. For once in my life I feel free, and this
amazing man is the one who’s liberated me.

Wade has a mean streak but instead being distasteful to
me, it’s turning me on. I had no idea I was this
sinful.

He’s making me do the dirtiest things. And the terrible
thing is, no matter how hard I try not to, I’m loving
it!

He says: “Tell your wimpy little preacher hubby how it
feels to have a REAL man’s dick in your hands.”

And I blush and say, “Oh I can’t. It’s just too mean.”

And he reaches over and gives my bare ass a playful
little swat and says sternly: “I said tell him!”

And in spite of myself I say, “Ooh! This is the hugest,
most magnificent prick in the world and I love to jack
it!”

Wade laughs his dirty laugh and shifts his position to
give Frank a better view.

“Tell him you’re going to suck my big dick and swallow
every drop of my cum,” he says.

And again I blush. “Oh, I can’t say that!” He reaches
his hand up again, but before he gives me another slap,
I shout it out at the top of my lungs: “I’m going to
suck this huge dick and make him shoot his entire load
in my mouth.” And as I say it, I feel it free something
wild in me. No matter how I try to deny it, I’m loving
this!

How did this ever happen? I’ve never in my life used
language like that.

This morning, I was the dutiful wife of a strict
minister who believed the Bible when it said the wife
should submit to her husband. Sex was a duty and I
performed it faithfully when Frank wanted it.

I’ve never had a man’s penis in my mouth and the only
sex I ever had was with my straight-laced husband in
the missionary position.

Now, less than eight hours later, at four in the
afternoon, Wade has turned me into an all-out whore who
craves his cock and enjoys letting him ravage me in
front of Frank.

I guess it started this morning, before the church
service started. Frank was spanking me. I had forgotten
to set the hymnals out in the pews the night before and
Frank made me take my panties down and lie over his
lap.

He had the ruler in his hand the one he uses to smack
the hands of the kids who act up in Sunday school.

He was scolding me as he punished me saying “You must
learn not to displease God by neglecting your church
duties.”

And I think that was when I got the first sinful idea
that led to the chain of events that followed. As he
administered the painful, humiliating spanking, I
caught myself saying silently: “Lord, just once, will
you let a big strong man come along and rescue me? Just
once I’d like to see Frank go over a strong man’s lap
and feel what it’s like to have his bare bottom
spanked.”

Immediately, I asked the Lord to forgive my sinful
thought. But it was too late. It was out there and I
guess the Devil must have heard it.

Later, Frank gave his sermon as usual. But from the
choir loft where I sat, I noticed something that wasn’t
normal: A big strong hunk of a man in the first row who
kept looking at me.

Now, I may have led a sheltered life, but I knew what
was on his mind. He made no secret of it. He kept
looking me up and down and smiling wickedly at me.

I looked away, but something made me keep looking back
at him. He was dressed in tight-fitting jeans and a
long-sleeve T-shirt that did little to hide those
impressive arm muscles, sitting with his legs spread,
leering at me with no embarrassment at all. And (Jesus
forgive me), I noticed there was a huge bulge in the
front of those jeans.

What’s worse, he caught me noticing and, in a brash
gesture, grabbed his crotch and “adjusted” himself.

I must have been blushing because he smiled even
broader.

It was having a strange effect on me. I started feeling
a dampness in my vagina I mean “pussy.” Wade is
making me use that word now and, as hard as it was to
say it at first, now it feels natural and exciting a
dampness in my pussy. I never used any of these dirty
words before Wade made me. Now they feel sinfully
natural and freeing.

After the service, everyone started to filter out. Wade
came up to Frank and me and introduced himself. Frank
gave him his name and introduced me as “Mrs. Willis.”

“I just got out of prison yesterday,” Wade said, “and I
haven’t got a place to stay. How about letting me sleep
here in the church?”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Frank said in his stern,
tight way. “We close up after Sunday services and no
one is allowed in until we reopen the church office on
Tuesday morning. No exceptions.”

Wade looked him up and down sort of sized him up. I
could tell Frank was uncomfortable. Frank is short
about five-six and very thin. He’s intimidating to
the parishioners because he knows the Bible well and
uses it to scare them off the road to hell. The
congregation is afraid of him because he keeps telling
them what sinners they are.

But I could see Wade had no fear that Frank could play
on. He’s about six-foot-six with a strong athletic
body. His arms and chest are hard and muscular from
working with weights in the prison gym.

He just looked Frank in the eye and said, “Okay.” And
with that he reached out and shook Frank’s hand.

Before turning to leave, he took my hand and put his
left arm around me. He pulled me close, as if to give
me an innocent hug. But before I knew it he drew my
face in close to his and whispered, “You’re a gorgeous
woman. And I know just what you need. I’m going to give
you the fucking of your life and you’re never going to
be the same!”

He turned to leave and I just stood there trembling. I
couldn’t believe what I’d heard.

I was about to tell Frank, but something stopped me.

Amazingly, I found his words were making me hot and
tingly.

When the congregation was gone and the sanctuary
straightened, Frank turned off the air conditioner and
we stepped outside.

To our surprise, Wade was waiting there in front. He
stepped forward and grabbed us both by the hair and
pulled us roughly back inside.

Frank and I struggled but it was useless. He handled us
easily, holding us both firmly in his powerful hands.
He led us down the aisle to the front pew and shoved us
down beside each other.

Frank’s face was red and he was clearly caught off
guard. He looked up into Wade’s eyes and started to
protest. “What do you think you’re doing mister, I’ll
have you know that–”

That’s as far as he got. Wade slapped his face,
knocking him back against the back of the pew. “You
shut up preacher man, I’m doing the talking.”

It was the only time I had ever seen Frank obey anyone.
He was used to being the dominant one. But not now.

I blush to admit it, but it sort of excited me to see
him submit to someone else’s authority. Don’t get me
wrong, it was scary, but something about it was
exciting too.

“Here’s how it’s going to be,” Wade said. “You say the
church will be closed from now until Tuesday morning.
I’m going to lock the doors and keep you two as my
slaves for these next two days. You’re going to serve
me and keep me entertained.” He leaned in close to
Frank and said, “I’m gonna start by punishing you
first for being so inhospitable, and second for
neglecting your wife. I can see this lovely woman is
not getting properly fucked. I’m going to lean you over
the back of this bench, pull your pants and undies down
and let your charming wife here watch me smack your
bare ass until it shines like a little red Christmas
bulb. Then I’m going to show you how a real man pleases
a woman.”

Frank was actually shaking a little as Wade’s eyes
blazed deeply into his. Then Wade looked at me and his
whole expression changed. He was leering at me,
shamelessly, but some part of me was liking it!

“What’s your name?” he asked me. “I’m not going to call
you ‘Mrs.’ Anything!”

My voice shook a little. “Th-they call me Sister Mary.”
I said.

“Well I can see you’ve got a wild side, Sister Mary,”
he said, in a deep, somehow reassuring voice. “And I’m
going to set it free! Now get up and lock that front
door.”

My heart was beating like crazy. This was so
outrageously incongruous. Frank and I led a pious but
boring life. Nothing exciting ever happened to us and
Frank seemed to like it that way. Now all of a sudden
we were being held captive by a strong, unpredictable
stranger who was mentally undressing me while taking my
husband well in hand.

I hurried toward the door. When I reached it, I had the
chance to dash outside and run for help. I knew that’s
what I should do. But some strange compulsion made me
obey this masculine stranger. I put the bar in the
slots and we were dead-bolted in.

When I turned around and started back down the aisle, I
couldn’t believe the bizarre sight my eyes beheld. True
to his word, Wade had Frank leaned over the back of
front pew with his feet on tiptoes on the floor and his
hands holding onto the front of the seat. He was still
in his suit coat, white shirt and tie, but his pants
and underpants were down around his ankles and his cute
little bare bottom was thrust up. Wade was standing
behind him, teasingly running his right palm over
Frank’s pale, white buns.

I stopped in the aisle and gasped, “Oh my heavens!” I
said, my hand flying to my mouth.

It seemed to strike Wade as a funny reaction, because
he began laughing.

And here’s the incredible part: As he laughed (Lord
forgive me), I started to laugh too. I knew I was being
bad, but seeing my dignified husband (still in his
crisp white shirt and “power” tie) in that UN-dignified
position just struck me as comical. At the sound of my
involuntary little giggle, Frank spun his head around
and glared at me. But instead of withering me as his
glares usually did, it made me laugh even harder.

“What’s so funny?!” Frank demanded.

And I tried to get serious. “Nothing darling, it’s just
that…” But before I could get the sentence out, I was
giggling again in spite of myself.

Frank took his right hand off the seat and pointed at
me. “Satan will punish you for laughing at me,” he said
in his most pious voice. But instead of scaring me, the
sight of him pointing his powerless finger at me in
that completely helpless position made me laugh even
harder. “I’m sorry, dear,” I said.

He wagged his finger up and down at me and glared even
harder. But before he could say anything, Wade gave him
a loud, powerful whack across his up-thrust behind.

“Put that hand back down on the seat and keep it there
like I told you to.”

Frank let out a yelp and obeyed. And again, Wade and I
both laughed.

“Now here’s how it’s going to be,” Wade said. “I’m
going to give that haughty little tail of yours twenty-
five smacks with my bare hand. But if I see that hand
come off the seat again, you’re going to get twenty-
five more with my belt or something else that will
hurt a lot more.”

“Yes sir,” Frank said and Wade smiled at me.

“When’s the last time you heard him talk to someone
with that kind of respect?” Wade asked me. I knew he
was… how can I say this? … showing off for me. I
didn’t know what to say. “Answer me,” he said setting
his elbow on the small of Frank’s back and resting the
side of his face in his hand. He gave me a dreamy, sexy
smile and looked deep into my eyes.

“How do you like him in this position getting ready to
have his ass whupped right here in front of Jesus and
everyone? Kind of fun isn’t it?”

I had never seen a man hold another man much less my
authoritative husband — so completely under his
control. I couldn’t believe how much it was turning me
on.

But I tried not to show it.

“I-I don’t know. It’s…” I stammered.

Wade stood up and laughed. “I bet he’s spanked your
pretty bare behind a time or two hasn’t he?”

“Yes,” I blurted out, without even meaning to.

Wade smiled and took off his long-sleeve T-shirt,
exposing his strong chest, flat stomach and powerful
arms. “Okay,” he said to me. “Now he’s going to see how
it feels to get his ass walloped.”

Involuntarily, I sucked in my breath in a gasp of
excitement.

“I want you to sit here and count the smacks I give
him,” Wade said. “I want you to count each one out loud
until I get to twenty-five. If he can take it without
taking his wimpy hands up off the front of the bench,
we’ll let him off with that. If not, I’ll give him the
belt or something even better.”

I slid into the pew and sat down and as I did, I
noticed a strange, unfamiliar wetness between my legs.

Wade rubbed his hands together and delivered the first
hard slap. Again, Frank yipped like a little puppy and
my hand flew to my mouth. “Oh my word!” I said, at once
shocked and frightened by the loud smack and impressed
by the power of this man’s spanking stroke.

“One…” I said.

He gave him three fast smacks one right after another
“Two. Three… Four…” I called out.

And as I counted the slaps, I felt myself awash in a
heady mixture of emotions. “Eleven… Twelve…
Thirteen…”

It was scary and a little disconcerting to see my
husband — the source of my security overpowered like
this. But I was also enjoying it in some wicked way. I
was watching the man who controlled, dominated and
often disciplined me being, himself controlled,
dominated and disciplined. Poor Frank was squalling
away like a little baby, begging Wade for mercy, and I
kept thinking about all the times he’d spanked me and
made me beg him for mercy which he never granted me.
(“A husband must lay down the law unto his wife,” he
would say as I pleaded for him to stop.)

Now, I was getting sweet revenge for all the times he
had spanked my bottom, and there’s no denying that part
of me was enjoying it.

But the most overwhelming emotion I was feeling was
…lust! Yes. I confess. I was extremely attracted to
the power this stranger was wielding.

And (I bite my tongue to admit it) I was having fun!

Seventeen… Eighteen… Nineteen…”

So at some point, something made me do something really
devilish: I started going back on the count to keep the
spanking going.

“Sixteen,” I said for the second time. “Seventeen.
Seventeen. Sixteen…” Wade laughed and winked at me,
picking up quickly on the game I was playing.

“Hey,” Frank called out. “What are you doing!? That’s
twenty!”

“Shut up,” Wade said and hit him an extra-hard smack.
“Let your wife do the counting. Just hold onto the seat
and keep thrusting that ass up for me.”

“Fourteen.” I said. “Fifteen… Sixteen… Fourteen…”

And Wade kept raining the blows on his fanny, getting
it redder and redder. Just as I was starting to take
pity on Frank and began counting right (“Twenty-one.
Twenty-two. Twenty-three… “), Frank couldn’t stop
himself any longer. He desperately put his right hand
up to shield himself from the blows.

Wade and I looked at each other and, for the first
time, I allowed myself to smile at him,
conspiratorially.

“Well,” Wade said. “Looks like our little Reverend
can’t follow instructions. I guess it’s time for the
belt.”

“No! No!” Frank said. “I…”

Wade Reached down between Frank’s legs and took hold of
his balls. “If you say one more word I’m going to
squeeze these things with all my might and believe me,
I have a strong grip.”

“Oh my word!” I said, involuntarily, feeling a jolt of
excitement at his audacity. Frank got very silent, very
fast. But Wade didn’t seem satisfied.

“In fact,” said Wade, “I’m sick of hearing your
bawling. I think we’re going to have to do something
about keeping you quiet.” He smiled at me and told me
to come over beside him. Then, suddenly he took me in
his arms and gave me the deepest, most passionate kiss
any woman could imagine. He held me close and strong
and his mouth found mine hungrily. He pressed his body
against me and I felt something like a can of shaving
cream pressing against my vagina my pussy! It should
have been uncomfortable, but it felt amazingly good. It
was big and thick and hard as a rock for me.

He drew his mouth away from mine and brought his lips
to my ear. “Take off your panties and give them to me,”
he whispered.

At first I was too stunned to move. But he grabbed my
hair and pulled my head back roughly and firmly not
really hurting me, but making it clear that he meant
business. “Do it!” he said.

And instantly I lifted the hem of my Sunday dress, slid
my fingers into the waistband of my panties and removed
them.

“Good girl,” he said, smiling wickedly and taking them
out of my hand and feeling the crotch. “Wow,” he said.
“They’re soaking wet.” He held them to his face and
breathed in their essence. “Oh man, these panties have
the feel and smell of a really hot pussy. You’ve been
having some fun haven’t you?”

I blushed like a schoolgirl but said nothing.

“Answer me,” he said. “You’ve been enjoying this
haven’t you?”

“I have to admit I have,” I said, barely audibly. I
couldn’t see Frank’s face but I knew it was red with
shock and jealousy just the response Wade had wanted
to provoke.

Wade walked to the front of the pew and raised Frank’s
head up. “Open that crybaby mouth,” he said. And Frank
obeyed him. “Wider,” Wade said, and Frank opened wider.
“Okay, good,” Wade said. And he wadded the panties up
and stuffed them into Frank’s mouth.

“Is there any rope around here?” Wade asked him,
winking at me.

Frank made a muffled, indistinguishable noise and Wade
continued teasing him. “What? What’s that? I can’t hear
you. You sound like you have a pair of sopping wet
panties in your mouth.”

I laughed without meaning to.

Wade repeated the question, this time addressing it to
me. I could have lied but I was absolutely drunk with
the devilish mischief this man was bringing out in me.
“Yes sir,” I said. “We keep some in the utility room to
rope the seats off when special groups attend our
services.”

“Run and bring it to me along with a knife,” he said.

And I hurriedly obeyed. While I was gone, I was
thinking about Wade’s amazing kiss and the feel of his
penis his cock — against me. All I could think of
was how much I’d love to get a look at it.

When I got back to the sanctuary, Wade had moved my
poor husband. This time, he had him leaned over the
Sacred Altar!

Wade had stripped Frank’s pants and undies completely
off, and wrestled his shirt, tie and jacket off as
well. He was completely nude now. But he was still
leaned over in the same position, his bare ass (by now
very, very red) thrust up and vulnerable. My sopping
wet “gag” was still in his mouth so he couldn’t say
anything, but I knew this was the crowning humiliation
for him. He was going to be spanked on the Holy Altar
where he performed dozens of religious ceremonies every
week. I knew he was never doing to see that altar the
same after today.

Wade took the rope and the knife and I watched,
fascinated, as he expertly cut the rope into strips and
hogtied Frank, binding his wrists to his feet, further
hoisting up his already well-spanked posterior and
providing himself better access to it.

“How’s he look?” Wade asked me.

I could only blush and look away. Wade laughed. “Come
on,” he said, “What’s the first word that comes to your
mind?”

I tried to stop myself, but something made me blurt it
out: “Cute,” I said. “He looks cute with his little
bare tail raised way up in the air for you.”

I knew it was humiliating Frank but I was beyond the
point of caring. I was having fun and nothing was going
to stop me.

Wade had me sit down in the front pew, just eight feet
from the altar, and he removed his belt. He doubled it
up and snapped it loudly a few times. Frank jumped,
startled by the loudness of it.

Then the serious spanking started. He gave him several
hard cracks with the belt and had me count them. I lost
count a couple times (this time legitimately because I
was having trouble concentrating on anything except how
sexy Wade looked).

As if catching my mood, he stopped at about twelve and
asked me. “Pardon me, ma’am but these pants are very
confining and I want the freedom of movement to give
this little wimp what he deserves. Would you mind very
much if I removed them?”

My heart started beating like a jackhammer. I could
only nod enthusiastically.

Wade undid his pants and slid them off, and there he
stood, clad only in his tight white jockey shorts. My
mouth fell open at the view!

I could see the immense imprint of his astonishing
penis his cock! To say it was huge would be an
understatement. It stretched the material of his cotton
drawers almost to the tearing point. And below the
outline of that big dick I could see his powerful
balls, tight and round.

And, speaking of tight and round, his ass looked like
something from one of those Greek-god statues. Even
though I was seeing it covered by the thin fabric of
his underpants, I didn’t have to stretch my imagination
to picture what it would look like bare and exposed.

I knew it wouldn’t be long before I would be seeing it
that way.

I watched in open-mouthed awe as he swiveled those
hips, getting the most out of every swat to poor
Frank’s ass. Frank kept wriggling around trying to
avoid the slaps but Wade wasn’t taking any pity on him.

Finally, after I had counted (however inaccurately)
eighteen swats, Wade rested a minute and smiled at me.

“How am I doing?” he asked me, grinning a naughty,
Johnny Depp grin.

I didn’t know what to say, but the devil put the words
in my mouth: “I don’t think Frank ever put the fear of
God into anyone on that altar like you’re putting it
into him today.”

Instantly, I covered my mouth and giggled nervously,
not believing I’d said it.

“Let me ask you something,” Wade said. “When this wimpy
little coward spanks you, what does he spank you with?”

It was then that I remembered my “prayer” from earlier
in the morning. I was being offered an opportunity for
perfect, quid-pro-quo revenge.

“The ruler,” I said.

“Run get it,” Wade said. “And while you’re gone, I’m
going to get out of these confining jockeys.”

My heart was pounding as I raced into the rectory where
Frank and I slept and retrieved the ruler he had, just
that morning, used on my bottom.

When I got back I almost fainted.

Frank was still tied to the altar. And there was Wade,
completely nude, mounted on Frank’s back, sitting
casually astride him. He had taken my panties out of
Frank’s mouth and slipped in a length of the rope. He
held the ends like reins in his left hand and with his
right, he was playing with his gigantic dick, slowly
stroking it. It was standing way, way up at attention
and he stroked it slowly and masterfully. The effect
was one of a cowboy nonchalantly masturbating as he
rode bareback on his horse out in the great outdoors.

My knees suddenly felt like rubber and I thought I was
going to pass out from the intensity of the rush of
excitement that thundered through me.

I half sat, half collapsed on the front pew and watched
as he continued stroking himself. I could see the clear
wetness of precum glistening on the tip of his cock.

“How do I look riding the range?” he asked me
playfully.

I fought to catch my breath. “Looks like you’re going
to bust my bronco for me,” I said. “Do you think you
can tame him?” I have no idea where that came from. But
hearing myself say it made me feel a dirty tingle in my
body and made us both laugh. It was pretty clear that
the “bronco” had already been “busted.” But Wade caught
the spirit immediately.

“Hand me that ruler.”

I gave it to him and watched as he pretended to “spur”
Frank and bounced up and down on his back, all the
while, slapping his ass with the ruler the way a rider
would use a riding crop on a wild horse.

And the crazy let’s face it, funny — thing about it
was that as he smacked away on Frank’s ass, Frank
really did seem to “buck” in an effort to get away.

Finally though, he stopped struggling and Wade
playfully tipped an imaginary cowboy hat to me and
“dismounted.”

He cut Frank loose and took the “reins” out of his
mouth. He grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face
roughly close to his own. “Okay preacher man. That
should teach you not to disobey me. But remember
there’s plenty more red-ass where that came from. Are
you going to behave and serve me without giving me any
backtalk?”

“Yes Sir,” Frank said. I couldn’t believe how
completely he had been conquered and subjugated.

“Well that’s good,” Wade said. “Because I’m going to
give your wife the fucking of her life and you’re going
to help me prepare her for it. Now lay down here on the
floor on your back.”

Frank quickly obeyed, slightly favoring his sore
derriere.

Then Wade turned to me.

“Give me your hand,” he said. And he reached out and
guided my hand to his huge hard tool. “Take it in your
hand,” he commanded me.

I could barely get my hand around it but I managed to
do it and it felt great.

“As you can see, I’m considerably bigger than what
you’re used to.” He flipped his head derisively in the
direction of Frank’s little penis which was
surprisingly hard but just about the size of Wade’s
thumb. “So you’re going to have to be good and lubed up
to take me all the way into that sweet delicious snatch
of yours. So I want you to sit on this boy’s face and
let him get you completely greased up with his tongue.”

“What?!” Frank and I said at the same time.

“You heard me,” Wade said. “You’re going to ride his
face.

“And by the way,” he said to Frank, “I may want to go
in her ‘back door’ too. So I want you to lick her from
the top of her cunt all the way to the top of the back
of her ass. I want you to get her pussy and her ass
completely juicy. Spend some good generous time on her
clit. Or you’re going over my lap and get another good
ol’ spanking.”

I was shell shocked. I had never had a man give me oral
sex. I had always been told it was sinful and Frank
cited biblical passages that backed it up. But before I
knew it, Wade had positioned me over Frank’s face with
my knees on either side of his head. Then he eased me
down and I felt, for the first time, the heaven of a
man’s tongue working on my clit and into my pussy and
even “French kissing” my ass.

While Frank worked away on me, I threw my head back and
closed my eyes and went into something like a trance.

Wade grabbed hold of Frank’s balls and told me: “Just
let me know if he gets lazy and let’s up.” And then to
Frank: “If I she tells me you’re easing up. I’m going
to squeeze these babies until you get right back on her
case. You got that?”

“Mmphh, Mummphh,” Frank said.

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