Indian Mistress Bride Loves Femdom

Galahad 2018-06-17 Comments
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Monica and Arjun were married in a traditional Indian ceremony held at a luxurious beach resort in Goa. As was the custom, they had met only a couple of times before the wedding. Monica seemed a demure, soft-spoken girl, but her stunning good looks atop a tall and athletic body had bowled Arjun over.

Throughout the wedding ceremony, his mind was fixated on fucking this babe, much to the chagrin of the priest who found Arjun distracted all through the event.

After the wedding, they drove down to the Marriot resort hotel where Arjun had booked a large suite for their honeymoon of four nights.

The room had awesome views of the ocean from the living room, the bedroom, and the insanely lavish bathroom. Arjun was so impatient to get Monica’s bridal clothes off and ravish her that he barely noticed the stunning sunset that was in progress.

But, no. Monica told him to sit in the living room while she changed and came to him. “Remove all your clothes and wait for me, sweetie. I have a surprise for you”, she cooed. Arjun stripped, his cock was erect with raging expectations; he could do little else but play with himself, fuming at the wait.

After a good fifteen minutes, the door opened and in walked Monica. Arjun was stupefied. She was dressed in bondage clothes; shiny black leather calf high boots with 6-inch heels and pointed tips, a wisp of a black leather bikini, and an equally wispy leather bra struggling to keep her massive boobs in place. But it was what she held in her hands that drew Arjun’s attention more – a leather whip and a dog leash with a collar.

Monica in the nude oozed sex – big-built, feminine curves, firm breasts, long, toned, muscular legs; washboard abs, well-rounded ass, all contained in her 5’10” frame but towering 5 inches more than Arjun in her heels, a physique honed by a regular diet of rowing and lifting weights.

“Kneel”, she ordered. Arjun hesitated but a single flip of the whip on his back got him to the floor pronto.

“I have a few things to tell you before our married life begins”, she said sharply in a tone so different from the softer voice he had heard so far. This was a new Monica that unsettled him.

She swiftly buckled the collar around his neck and pushed his neck down so he was now on all fours.

“Come, let’s go for a walk, my puppy”, and dragged an unwilling Arjun behind her to the small bar counter where she sat on the high bar stool. Crossing her legs, she pulled on the leash so Arjun’s face touched the top of her boot.

“This is how it’s going to be. In the bedroom, I’m the mistress, you the slave. I decide when you get your sex and how you get it. You have to work hard, beg hard to get it. Is that understood?” She swung her whip on his back again. Arjun had little choice but to say yes. “Good, kiss my feet”, she said lifting his chin up with the tip of her boot.

With that Monica began training her husband. She paced up and down the room with Arjun trailing close behind her on all fours, the skin on his knees chafing from the abrasion against the carpet. She would suddenly stop and give him a whack on his ass with the whip. He winced with pain. “That’s just to make sure slaves know their place”, she said sadistically, making him kiss her leather-shod feet again.

Arjun felt humiliated, yet he was enjoying the sexual torment. His prick was big, it was aching, he wanted a release. Monica noticed it too and ordered him to lie down on his back while she sat on the stool playing footsie with his cock. She couldn’t help but get aroused seeing his gym-trained body with its erect 8-inch manhood.

Arjun began to moan. “Please can I touch you?” he begged. Monica gave him a sardonic smile. “Yes, doggy, lick my cunt.” She slowly removed her bikini to reveal a shaven pussy. She sat on the sofa and spread herself wide and tugged at the leash. Arjun with his tongue hanging out immersed himself between her legs and lapped up her juices.

“Faster, deeper”, she yelled and Arjun redoubled his effort till she screamed out a mighty orgasm.

“That was fantastic, you are a good dog. You deserve a reward.” Arjun thought he could enter her, but the whip was on him again. “No”, she growled, “not so fast”.

She went to the bedroom and brought back two sets of cuffs, one pair for the hands, the other for the legs. Arjun stood, unable to move, his legs bound and his hands tied behind his back. He was helpless, completely at her mercy. She pushed him against a wall and began the tease.

Monica dropped her bra and pushed his face between her magnificent tits. She let him kiss her nipples but once and pulled herself away before he could repeat it. Arjun’s frustration was mounting, he was sweating, the end of his cock was glistening with cum and he hadn’t yet pawed his wife’s hot bod.

“I am going to eat some cake”, she said and walked slowly to the coffee table where the hotel had so thoughtfully kept a sinfully rich chocolate cake topped with strawberries. Arjun could only glare at her in impotent rage.

She brought the cake to him and pushed his manhood deep into it and removed it. Kneeling in front of him, she slowly started licking his chocolate laden cock. “Delicious, do you want some?” She took a bite of the chocolate on her tongue and lasciviously French-kissed him.

Arjun was now getting delirious; his moaning became louder. Monica squatted on her knees and enveloped him in her mouth. Back and forth she went, slowly at first and then with increasing tempo, expertly bringing him to a massive climax. Arjun shot off a huge load of cum into her throat. Monica squeezed his cock and greedily swallowed the fluid till the very last drop.

“Wasn’t that good?” He was too famished to speak but nodded. She undid his cuffs and pushed him onto the bed.

Finally, Arjun got his hands on her; he hungrily lavished her entire body with kisses and felt his loins becoming active again. “Oh no, not tonight”, she said, “You still have to be obedience trained. If you’re a good puppy I’ll perhaps let you fuck me in another two days.”

And tomorrow is another couple sex story.

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