The Night My Husband Treated Me Like His Pet

After my last encounter with Mariano, a couple of messages landed on my phone that I didn’t even open. I devoted myself to my family, to the routine, to pretending everything was in its place. My husband, as always, seemed happy that I had a lover; it was a game we both enjoyed. But that last date had left a bittersweet taste in my mouth, and the frustration wouldn’t go away. On the contrary, it grew. I needed rough sex, no romance, no extra caresses. The kind of sex you only get when someone treats you with just the right amount of coldness.

During those days I helped my father-in-law with meals, cleaned the house, went to work. Always acting like the perfect woman, hiding my true nature behind a sweet, slightly naïve smile. Everyone thought I was happy, that I was in a better mood for some reason. The truth was different: I was irritated, tense, unsatisfied. And only one person knew how to read what was underneath my mask.

That night we were in the bedroom, about to sleep. Esteban already had his pajamas on and I had just come out of the shower, drying my hair with a towel, wrapped in my white robe and wearing that smile that never left my face.

—Honey, you’ve seemed strange lately, like you’re not yourself. Is something wrong? —he said.

I wasn’t surprised. My husband always notices any change in me.

—It’s Mariano. I’m a little mad at him —I confessed as I sat on the edge of the bed beside him.

—Did he do something you didn’t want? Because if he did, I’ll teach him a lesson.

—It’s not that. Do you remember the last time the three of us went out to eat?

—Of course. He was pawing at you under the table, thinking I didn’t notice.

—Yeah. We ended up having sex, and I enjoyed it, but I still wasn’t fully satisfied.

Esteban fell silent, thinking, and I noticed something like concern in his eyes.

—I thought you were liking the idea of having a lover.

—I do. But I expected Mariano to be bolder, more dominant.

My voice dropped with each word, and my thumbs played with each other in my lap. He looked at me for a second and understood everything at once.

He climbed on top of me, pushing me down onto the bed. His hand caressed my cheek, his body pressed against mine, his eyes locked on mine.

—Your friend still doesn’t know he should treat you like the whore you are. Is that it?

I stayed quiet, but my eyes gave me away. His words were starting to heat me up in a way only he could manage. I bit my lower lip without breaking eye contact, letting my arousal show.

—Are you going to do something for me? —I asked.

—You’re such a slut you can’t even wait —he laughed—. But yeah, I’ve got something special planned for you.

His hand slid under my robe and freed my breasts. He squeezed them, stroked them, and almost without me noticing, a drop of milk leaked from one of my nipples.

—You’re lactating again? —he smiled—. My little cow showed up at the perfect time.

I didn’t even know it had started again. It had happened to me for years; the doctors said it was hormonal, that stress triggered it.

—I just thought of a better plan —he went on—. When your tits are nice and full, we’ll go to the office so they can milk you. Like a cow. A very slutty cow.

Is he going to make me expose myself in front of another man again?, I thought, with a mix of tension and intrigue.

—When you’re nice and full, let me know. I’ve already picked the perfect day to please my bitch.

He kissed me on the lips after talking to me like that, and I kissed him back. I wanted him to take me right then and there, but I knew that if I had a little patience, the reward would be a thousand times better than a quick fuck for a few minutes.

***

The next day I went to work, like every morning. I start at four and by one in the afternoon I’m free. Around eleven I started feeling my breasts heavy, sore: a sign they were full. I sent Esteban a short, direct message, the kind only he understands. He didn’t take long to reply. By noon he was already in the car, and the pain was so bad I had to take off my bra, letting my breasts hang loose under my clothes.

I got home and changed right away. Tight pants and a black spaghetti-strap shirt, no bra, with a neckline that left little to the imagination. Esteban looked at me with pride, with a conspiratorial expression about what was coming. We got in the car and, while he drove, he tried to brush the skin of my neckline with his fingertips.

—Hey, if you take all the milk, what do you leave for the farmer? —I said, bold and teasing.

He laughed and held back, though I could tell he was anxious. The mere idea of another man seeing his wife’s breasts had him turned on, and he wasn’t hiding it.

***

The office was spotless, everything tidy. The doctor had to be around forty, attractive, not gray yet, one of those men who take care of their image.

—Hello, welcome. What brings you here? —he said, inviting us to sit.

—Hello, doctor. The thing is my wife’s breasts hurt —Esteban replied.

—Chest pain can have several causes, not always serious. Most are benign.

—What’s happening —I interjected— is that when I get stressed, my breasts produce milk. It’s been happening for years. The doctors say it’s hormonal.

My fingers played with each other, my voice was barely a whisper, and my gaze was fixed on the desk. A worthy performance, to hide the arousal.

—All right, then you just need some medication. I’m going to prescribe…

He was about to write when Esteban cut him off.

—Doctor, the problem is that right now she can’t get the milk out, and she asked me to come so you could help her with that.

—There are machines for expressing milk. Some brands are very careful with the nipple area, they don’t hurt…

—You know what? We couldn’t afford one right now —my husband insisted—. That’s why we’re here. So you can help her.

The doctor paused for a moment, trying to decipher Esteban’s words. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. For an instant I thought we’d been found out, that a lecture was coming. My heart was pounding fast and hard; I tried to control my breathing.

—Yes, I can guide your wife so the milk starts to come out. With a little warm water it won’t be a problem, and it should barely hurt.

I accepted the help. The doctor went to get warm water and a small container.

—I’m ready. What do I have to do? —I asked.

—First, wet the nipples with the warm water. Then, with your fingertips, squeeze gently until the milk flows. Massage slowly and you’ll see it comes out without effort.

I pulled down my blouse and exposed my breasts in front of both of them. They were both looking without trying to hide it; the doctor cleared his throat. I began to moisten one nipple, massaged slowly, and then pressed a little.

—Ow, that hurts. I don’t think I’m doing it right —I said, letting out a fake wince of pain.

—Honey, I’m sure the doctor does it better than you —Esteban said—. He has experience, that’s what professionals are for. What do you say, doctor?

—I think that’s a good idea —I added in an innocent voice, my eyes begging for help—. Will you help me, doctor?

—Well… I think I can help with that —his voice sounded uncertain as he stood up and came closer, never taking his eyes off my breasts.

His hand moved toward my right breast, already wet with water.

—I’m going to start touching you, is that okay?

He didn’t wait for my answer; his hand was already on me. He did it so well that milk came out in several streams almost immediately. I brought the container closer to catch it. Every time he squeezed, more came out, and he gave my nipple little tugs. He leaned forward, and as I shifted to get comfortable in the chair, my shoulder brushed his groin. I felt him hard, ready. I looked back at his hand: milk was between his fingers.

—Hey, doctor, what do you think about milking the other breast too? —Esteban said.

The doctor seemed startled by my husband’s voice, but quickly regained himself.

—Ah, yes. I think I have another container.

He let go to go get it, and in the reflection of a display case window I saw him bring his fingers to his mouth and lick the milk off his tongue. I smiled inwardly, as if I’d won a battle. When he came back, he handed me the second container, moistened his other hand, and wet my left breast. I held both containers under my nipples while he started milking me from both sides.

Standing behind me, I felt his erection against my back. I tried not to moan while being milked in front of my husband, barely feeling the pressure and tugs of his hands.

—How are you doing, honey? Feeling better yet? —Esteban asked.

—Oh, yes. The doctor is doing a good job —I answered, my voice breaking with a barely contained moan.

—Looks like he knows how to milk you so it won’t hurt.

The doctor didn’t say a word; he only focused on his task. But when Esteban said the word “milk,” his erection pressed even more firmly against my back. In my head, forbidden images were already appearing, and I knew I was about to lose control. Luckily, the milk stopped coming, first from the right breast and then from the left. The doctor handed me a tissue and went back to his chair.

When I finished wiping myself and adjusting my blouse, I saw him pour the contents of the two containers into one and study the amount carefully.

—Almost seven hundred and fifty milliliters. That’s a lot. How do you feel now?

—Much better. They don’t hurt anymore, they even feel lighter.

—When milk builds up, it’s normal for it to hurt. That’s why it’s best to take the medication or express it before it starts hurting.

—Thank you, doctor. My wife is grateful, and we’ll definitely come back if she feels bad again —Esteban said, satisfied.

We paid for the appointment and, once in the car, I couldn’t hold back the question.

—Hey, did you like it?

—I loved it. Seeing my little cow milked by another man is one of the best sensations there is.

—You’re so mean to me, honey.

—I am. But I know you love it when I treat you like that.

—And now what? Was that everything you had planned?

—Oh, no. You know I’m not that simple. I still have to take care of my little bitch.

I didn’t ask anything else; I wanted the rest to be a surprise. The excitement wouldn’t let me sit still.

***

Esteban parked in front of a strip of shops. He got out, I followed him, and he led me by the hand into a pet store. He took me straight to the dog toy section and started looking at collars and leashes.

—Which one do you think is prettier? —he asked.

—But we don’t have a dog —I said softly.

—Ah, but I do have a bitch. And she’s very slutty —he whispered in my ear.

His words made my heart race and my cheeks burn.

—I’m still going to choose the one I like best.

He picked a camel-colored leather collar with a matching leash. At the counter, the salesperson told him that with the purchase they included a free tag with the animal’s name. “Puti,” Esteban said without blinking. I did my best to stay calm. The two of us laughed so naturally that the man didn’t ask anything, and they chose a blue bone-shaped tag to engrave the name on. After that we went to eat at a restaurant. To be honest, nothing out of the ordinary happened; we ate so peacefully that I almost forgot about the doctor and the leash.

***

We got home. I went straight to the bedroom while my father-in-law called Esteban to talk about something. I lay down and fell asleep without meaning to. I didn’t wake up until he gently shook me.

—Honey, wake up. We’re going to continue what we started this afternoon.

—What time is it? —I muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed.

—Past midnight. It’s perfect to keep going with the plan.

—At this hour? Couldn’t it be daytime?

—Of course it has to be this hour. Look, I already have your things ready.

He handed me the clothes we had bought and the leash with the tag.

—Is all this necessary?

—Of course. Go change in the dressing room.

I went in, closed the door, and put on the white stockings that reached mid-thigh, the pink micro skirt, and a white top that barely covered my breasts. I added the leash with the tag that said “Puti.” I looked for underwear and found none. I came out like that.

—No underwear?

—Damn, you look so good. Your areolas are even showing through the top —he said, coming closer to smack my ass, the sound echoing through the room—. You won’t need underwear. Now, Puti, get on all fours like the bitch you are.

His authoritative voice made me obey instantly, and at the same time it turned me on.

—Very good. I love obedient bitches. But if you disobey me, I’ll punish you with spankings. Understood, whore?

I didn’t answer or move, so he gave me another slap that tore a moan out of me.

—Ugh, you look so vulgar. I almost mistook you for a sow.

Another spank, another moan. His hands found my collar and clipped on the leash.

—Very good. It’s time for your nighttime walk.

He walked to the door and opened it. Excitement flooded me. I felt the leash tugging at me, but I didn’t move: the risk of my father-in-law seeing me was enormous, and that terrified me as much as it aroused me. A spank made me forget reason, and I started moving on all fours while he pulled.

—Very good, bitch. I’m going to make you feel what your friend didn’t know how to give you.

I moved slowly, trying not to make a sound, step by step, until I passed in front of my father-in-law’s bedroom door. My ass is visible to anyone in this position, I thought, while the top betrayed me and left my breasts hanging. We reached the kitchen, where I felt safer because of the corners that shielded it, but we didn’t stay there long. Esteban led me to the sofa in the foyer, the most exposed spot in the whole house, right in the center. He patted a cushion, inviting me to climb up like I was his pet.

Once on top, he turned me over until I was on my back, with my legs up on the backrest and spread wide. He freed his erection and shoved it into my mouth, his hand holding the back of my neck, setting the pace mercilessly. His fingers moved down to my sex and caressed me while I, with my mouth occupied, only made hollow sounds. Saliva leaked out and covered my face, but pleasure far outweighed the discomfort.

He let me go, grabbed my hair, and practically dragged me across the floor. My reflexes got me onto my feet and I walked where he guided me: to a door, where I placed my hands on the frame. He grabbed my hips, bent me over, and drove into me in one motion, all the way in. A moan slipped out, but his hand covered my mouth and he kept thrusting, hard, without mercy. Only then did I realize we were in front of my father-in-law’s bedroom.

—See, whore? Your husband does know what a bitch needs —he whispered in my ear, still covering my mouth, knowing I’d moan as soon as I could.

My legs gave out and I fell until I was on all fours again, with him still inside me. He didn’t waste the position: he pressed my head to the floor, left my ass high, pulled out of my sex and rammed me from behind, without an ounce of tenderness. The moan I let out didn’t please him, so he took off one of my stockings, crumpled it up, and shoved it in my mouth, then wrapped the leash around my head so I couldn’t spit it out. He put his foot on my head and kept pounding into me like a man possessed. Every удар hit spots that made me lose my mind. An orgasm like no other started to take over me; every muscle in my body tensed: my neck, my hands, my arms, my thighs, my stomach. Black spots began to appear, growing and growing, until I fainted.

***

I woke up in bed, my body sore and Esteban shaking me with his hand.

—Caro, honey, wake up.

He looked desperate; he must have thought something serious had happened to me. I smiled.

—How did I get here? —I asked, trying to sit up. With the movement I felt my ass sticky: he had left me his gift too.

—Are you okay? I was so scared. You suddenly stopped moving and I thought the stocking had cut off your breathing. I put my fingers under your nose to make sure you were breathing.

He really did look worried.

—I’m fine. My muscles hurt, that’s all.

I threw myself on him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him on the lips.

—You’re a stud. You made me feel so good I fainted.

After making sure everything was okay, we decided to sleep. And for the first time in weeks, I did it completely satisfied.