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Submissive Wife Shared by Hubby (Traci Wilde)

(Learning Submission at the Marriage Conference)


Submissive Wife Shared by Hubby by Traci Wilde

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Melissa is absolutely thrilled that her husband has taken her to a weekend marriage conference, a religious gathering that promises to rejuvenate their marriage, re-ignite that sexual spark that often fades over the years.
Throughout their 15 years together she's tried to be a good, dutiful wife, but the two of them have grown apart, not only in their life goals and hopes, but in their bedroom practices and desires. The one thing that has held them together is their religious belief, and among those long-held tenants is that wives should be submissive to their husbands, obeying them in all things. Melissa's had a little trouble with that over the years, particularly as Tommy's desires have grown a little darker, a little kinkier.
So they attend the conference, led by a famous TV preacher and counselor, and soon Melissa discovers the conference puts particular emphasis on a wife's duty to be submissive to her husband, to obey him in ALL things, even if that means submitting when hubby decides to share his precious, pure little wife. Soon, Melissa finds herself caught up in the hottest, steamiest, and most wicked little foursomes she's ever imagined – first with Tommy and two strange women she's never seen before, then later when Tommy demands her absolute surrender as he invites strange men into their bed.
Melissa struggles with confusion – she believes the preacher when he says submit to her husband in ALL things, yet she doesn’t see how giving herself over to these strangers can be right, cannot plunge her into a life of sin. In the throes of the hottest, most passionate trysts she's ever known, Melissa forgets her concerns, letting her theological misgivings fade as the lustful pleasures of the flesh take center stage, the strongest, most agonizing desires suddenly coursing through her body.
Afterward Melissa can't reconcile her guilt and belief with the desires and sensual cravings that have been awakened inside her, so she meets with the minister, the nationally known Pastor Joel, only to find herself in the most shocking, scandalous encounter yet…
Will Melissa find a way to give herself over to the pastor, to her more carnal desires, learn to truly be submissive? What will that do to her long-held beliefs, and will their marriage strengthen, or will the weekend's actions doom them to go their separate ways?
The scintillating, shocking answers are just a click away…

Product type: EBook    Published by: author - self-published    Published: 12 / 2017

We do not recommend this book for readers under 18 years of age

No. words: 22000

Style: Erotica -    Erotic Domination - M/F, OM BDSM Erotica

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle

Current all-time sales ranking: #7171


Excerpt..

I lay here, feeling a faint throbbing down between my legs as I recalled the emotions and excitement and fear of that encounter earlier this evening, when I was helpless.
Of course, what's so confusing about it is that we're at a marriage conference, where our marriages are supposed to be revitalized, re-ignited, according to the television minister leading the conference, Joel Epstein.
The emotions are confusing, overwhelming. I recall reading the passage of scripture – just before Tommy stripped me naked and tied me up here in our hotel room – that Pastor Joel gave us before dismissing us all from the night's meeting: "Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything."
There it was, clear as day – submit to your husband, in everything. It was in the Bible, it was a clear command for women. For wives.
Still, it felt…being bound on that table, those two women and Tommy, touching me, kissing and caressing, growing so intimate with me…intimate hell, taking me, as their own little sex toy. Kissing and touching, using my body. Not that I was necessarily unwilling – it had been the most glorious sexual experience of my life, the most awesome, overwhelming orgasm…orgasms…I had ever experienced.
Yet every second of the time they were there, stripping the clothes from my body, kissing me, fondling my breasts, slipping inside me, sitting on my face, having me slip my tongue insite them, I couldn't get over the feeling it was wrong, evil, sinful. Perhaps that is why it had been so wickedly wonderful…it was sin, yet it included my husband, so it couldn't be cheating, right? I mean, as long as it includes your spouse, it's really not wrong, is it?
I closed my eyes, tried shaking the thoughts from my head. I was raised a Catholic, became a Baptist when I married Tommy – he came from one of those right-wing independent Baptist families – and I've always been taught if a man of God tells you something, whether it be a priest or an ordained pastor, then it must be okay. Surely, if it were wrong, Pastor Joel wouldn't have set it up, wouldn't have condoned it.
Still, something gnawed at me, inside. It's all so confusing.
Just then the bathroom door opened – I had been so caught up in my thoughts I didn't notice the shower had stopped running. Standing there in the nude, a backlit silhouette, steam surrounding him, Tommy looked like some sort of god from the underworld.
I lay there, looking at him, watching as the steam rolled around him, trailed out into the room, when there was a knock on the door.
I glanced at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed – midnight. Who would be knocking on the door at midnight?
"You going to get that?" Tommy asked.
"Very funny."
"Well, I'm still naked."
He was serious, I think.
"In case you forgot, dear husband, so am I." I wiggled to show I couldn't free myself. "And you tied me up, so I can't get out of bed."
He stepped to the bed, his fingers running along my thigh, from the knee up, almost touching me, three...I shivered.
Then he gave my thigh a quick slap, the sting of his hand on my skin somehow exciting. Tommy slipped a towel around his waist, stepped to the door, looked through the peephole, then stepped back and flipped the lock open.
"Tommy, what are you doing?"
He didn't acknowledge me, just reached down, turned the knob and opened the door. Two men stepped inside.
I gasped, tried sitting up, though I really don't know what I would have done if I had. Finally, after several tries – moving with my bound wrists tied to my body like they are is nearly impossible – I was able to roll over onto my stomach. I was still nude, on the bed, but at least I felt I had covered as much as I could.
"Oh, honey, don't be like that," Tommy said.
"Wh…" words failed me. He…I…I opened my mouth, but no other words came out.
Tommy sat on the bed.
"My dear, this is Joshua Sewell," he pointed to the one man, a very young man I recognized as Pastor Joel's assistant. "And this is Matthew Franklin. They are here…to help us reach a new level of freedom."
With that he grabbed me, rolled me over onto my back.
"Tommy, what are you doing?" I shrieked, wiggling, squirming, trying desperately to work my hands free, which was futile – Tommy had tied them tightly, and knotted the rope so that the knot was out of reach of my fingers.
"Shhssh," he whispered, pressing his finger to my lips. "Remember Pastor Epstein's final words: Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything."
"But…Tommy…please…this can't be right."
"Do you know the Bible better than Pastor Epstein?"
"I…" the truth was I didn't. I know, I've been taught all my life that Bible verse, and so many others. The wife is subservient to the husband, is to serve her husband, meeting his needs.
I…just…this can't be right. Can it?
Tommy leaned over, his face just inches from mine. He stroked his fingers through my hair. "I am the head of this household, and I have only what is best for you in mind, even if you don't see it now."
I was still speechless. I mean, I understood his words, but it…I was scared, and I had never let another man touch me before. I had saved myself for marriage, had always been faithful to Tommy, despite temptations and desires along the way I had never been intimate with anyone else until earlier tonight, with those women.
But now, two other men? That…that…I couldn't form the words. I knew, at least I thought I knew, he must be right. I inhaled, shivering, and waited…I had no words, no arguments, no logical reason to fend them off.
 
Chapter 4

Tommy kissed me, gently pressing his lips to mine. Behind him I saw the men, pulling off their shirts, dropping their pants.
Tommy stood, stepped away, and they stepped toward me. The light, the one from the bathroom, winked out – Tommy must have turned it off – and the lamplight from the corner wasn't enough to illuminate much of the room, casting everything in shadows. I closed my eyes, and then felt hands – two of them, caressing my breasts, another hand on the inside of my left thigh.


Excerpt..

I lay here, feeling a faint throbbing down between my legs as I recalled the emotions and excitement and fear of that encounter earlier this
evening, when I was helpless.

Of course, what's so confusing about it is that we're at a marriage conference, where our marriages are supposed to be revitalized,
re-ignited, according to the television minister leading the conference, Joel Epstein.

The emotions are confusing, overwhelming. I recall reading the passage of scripture – just before Tommy stripped me naked and tied me up
here in our hotel room – that Pastor Joel gave us before dismissing us all from the night's meeting: "Wives, submit yourselves to your own
husbands as you do to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the
Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything."

There it was, clear as day – submit to your husband, in everything. It was in the Bible, it was a clear command for women. For wives.

Still, it felt…being bound on that table, those two women and Tommy, touching me, kissing and caressing, growing so intimate with
me…intimate hell, taking me, as their own little sex toy. Kissing and touching, using my body. Not that I was necessarily unwilling – it
had been the most glorious sexual experience of my life, the most awesome, overwhelming orgasm…orgasms…I had ever experienced.

Yet every second of the time they were there, stripping the clothes from my body, kissing me, fondling my breasts, slipping inside me,
sitting on my face, having me slip my tongue insite them, I couldn't get over the feeling it was wrong, evil, sinful. Perhaps that is why it
had been so wickedly wonderful…it was sin, yet it included my husband, so it couldn't be cheating, right? I mean, as long as it includes
your spouse, it's really not wrong, is it?

I closed my eyes, tried shaking the thoughts from my head. I was raised a Catholic, became a Baptist when I married Tommy – he came from one
of those right-wing independent Baptist families – and I've always been taught if a man of God tells you something, whether it be a priest
or an ordained pastor, then it must be okay. Surely, if it were wrong, Pastor Joel wouldn't have set it up, wouldn't have condoned it. />
Still, something gnawed at me, inside. It's all so confusing.

Just then the bathroom door opened – I had been so caught up in my thoughts I didn't notice the shower had stopped running. Standing there
in the nude, a backlit silhouette, steam surrounding him, Tommy looked like some sort of god from the underworld.

I lay there, looking at him, watching as the steam rolled around him, trailed out into the room, when there was a knock on the door.

I glanced at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed – midnight. Who would be knocking on the door at midnight?

"You going to get that?" Tommy asked.

"Very funny."

"Well, I'm still naked."

He was serious, I think.

"In case you forgot, dear husband, so am I." I wiggled to show I couldn't free myself. "And you tied me up, so I can't get out of bed." />
He stepped to the bed, his fingers running along my thigh, from the knee up, almost touching me, three...I shivered.

Then he gave my thigh a quick slap, the sting of his hand on my skin somehow exciting. Tommy slipped a towel around his waist, stepped to
the door, looked through the peephole, then stepped back and flipped the lock open.

"Tommy, what are you doing?"

He didn't acknowledge me, just reached down, turned the knob and opened the door. Two men stepped inside.

I gasped, tried sitting up, though I really don't know what I would have done if I had. Finally, after several tries – moving with my bound
wrists tied to my body like they are is nearly impossible – I was able to roll over onto my stomach. I was still nude, on the bed, but at
least I felt I had covered as much as I could.

"Oh, honey, don't be like that," Tommy said.

"Wh…" words failed me. He…I…I opened my mouth, but no other words came out.

Tommy sat on the bed.

"My dear, this is Joshua Sewell," he pointed to the one man, a very young man I recognized as Pastor Joel's assistant. "And this is Matthew
Franklin. They are here…to help us reach a new level of freedom."

With that he grabbed me, rolled me over onto my back.

"Tommy, what are you doing?" I shrieked, wiggling, squirming, trying desperately to work my hands free, which was futile – Tommy had tied
them tightly, and knotted the rope so that the knot was out of reach of my fingers.

"Shhssh," he whispered, pressing his finger to my lips. "Remember Pastor Epstein's final words: Wives, submit yourselves to your own
husbands as you do to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the
Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything."

"But…Tommy…please…this can't be right."

"Do you know the Bible better than Pastor Epstein?"

"I…" the truth was I didn't. I know, I've been taught all my life that Bible verse, and so many others. The wife is subservient to the
husband, is to serve her husband, meeting his needs.

I…just…this can't be right. Can it?

Tommy leaned over, his face just inches from mine. He stroked his fingers through my hair. "I am the head of this household, and I have only
what is best for you in mind, even if you don't see it now."

I was still speechless. I mean, I understood his words, but it…I was scared, and I had never let another man touch me before. I had saved
myself for marriage, had always been faithful to Tommy, despite temptations and desires along the way I had never been intimate with anyone
else until earlier tonight, with those women.

But now, two other men? That…that…I couldn't form the words. I knew, at least I thought I knew, he must be right. I inhaled, shivering, and
waited…I had no words, no arguments, no logical reason to fend them off.

 

Chapter 4



Tommy kissed me, gently pressing his lips to mine. Behind him I saw the men, pulling off their shirts, dropping their pants.

Tommy stood, stepped away, and they stepped toward me. The light, the one from the bathroom, winked out – Tommy must have turned it off –
and the lamplight from the corner wasn't enough to illuminate much of the room, casting everything in shadows. I closed my eyes, and then
felt hands – two of them, caressing my breasts, another hand on the inside of my left thigh.


Excerpt..

I lay here, feeling a faint throbbing down between my legs as I recalled the emotions and excitement and fear of that encounter earlier this

evening, when I was helpless.


Of course, what's so confusing about it is that we're at a marriage conference, where our marriages are supposed to be revitalized,

re-ignited, according to the television minister leading the conference, Joel Epstein.


The emotions are confusing, overwhelming. I recall reading the passage of scripture – just before Tommy stripped me naked and tied me up

here in our hotel room – that Pastor Joel gave us before dismissing us all from the night's meeting: "Wives, submit yourselves to your own

husbands as you do to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the

Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything."


There it was, clear as day – submit to your husband, in everything. It was in the Bible, it was a clear command for women. For wives.


Still, it felt…being bound on that table, those two women and Tommy, touching me, kissing and caressing, growing so intimate with

me…intimate hell, taking me, as their own little sex toy. Kissing and touching, using my body. Not that I was necessarily unwilling – it

had been the most glorious sexual experience of my life, the most awesome, overwhelming orgasm…orgasms…I had ever experienced.


Yet every second of the time they were there, stripping the clothes from my body, kissing me, fondling my breasts, slipping inside me,

sitting on my face, having me slip my tongue insite them, I couldn't get over the feeling it was wrong, evil, sinful. Perhaps that is why it

had been so wickedly wonderful…it was sin, yet it included my husband, so it couldn't be cheating, right? I mean, as long as it includes

your spouse, it's really not wrong, is it?


I closed my eyes, tried shaking the thoughts from my head. I was raised a Catholic, became a Baptist when I married Tommy – he came from one

of those right-wing independent Baptist families – and I've always been taught if a man of God tells you something, whether it be a priest

or an ordained pastor, then it must be okay. Surely, if it were wrong, Pastor Joel wouldn't have set it up, wouldn't have condoned it.
/>

Still, something gnawed at me, inside. It's all so confusing.


Just then the bathroom door opened – I had been so caught up in my thoughts I didn't notice the shower had stopped running. Standing there

in the nude, a backlit silhouette, steam surrounding him, Tommy looked like some sort of god from the underworld.


I lay there, looking at him, watching as the steam rolled around him, trailed out into the room, when there was a knock on the door.


I glanced at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed – midnight. Who would be knocking on the door at midnight?


"You going to get that?" Tommy asked.


"Very funny."


"Well, I'm still naked."


He was serious, I think.


"In case you forgot, dear husband, so am I." I wiggled to show I couldn't free myself. "And you tied me up, so I can't get out of bed."
/>

He stepped to the bed, his fingers running along my thigh, from the knee up, almost touching me, three...I shivered.


Then he gave my thigh a quick slap, the sting of his hand on my skin somehow exciting. Tommy slipped a towel around his waist, stepped to

the door, looked through the peephole, then stepped back and flipped the lock open.


"Tommy, what are you doing?"


He didn't acknowledge me, just reached down, turned the knob and opened the door. Two men stepped inside.


I gasped, tried sitting up, though I really don't know what I would have done if I had. Finally, after several tries – moving with my bound

wrists tied to my body like they are is nearly impossible – I was able to roll over onto my stomach. I was still nude, on the bed, but at

least I felt I had covered as much as I could.


"Oh, honey, don't be like that," Tommy said.


"Wh…" words failed me. He…I…I opened my mouth, but no other words came out.


Tommy sat on the bed.


"My dear, this is Joshua Sewell," he pointed to the one man, a very young man I recognized as Pastor Joel's assistant. "And this is Matthew

Franklin. They are here…to help us reach a new level of freedom."


With that he grabbed me, rolled me over onto my back.


"Tommy, what are you doing?" I shrieked, wiggling, squirming, trying desperately to work my hands free, which was futile – Tommy had tied

them tightly, and knotted the rope so that the knot was out of reach of my fingers.


"Shhssh," he whispered, pressing his finger to my lips. "Remember Pastor Epstein's final words: Wives, submit yourselves to your own

husbands as you do to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the

Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything."


"But…Tommy…please…this can't be right."


"Do you know the Bible better than Pastor Epstein?"


"I…" the truth was I didn't. I know, I've been taught all my life that Bible verse, and so many others. The wife is subservient to the

husband, is to serve her husband, meeting his needs.


I…just…this can't be right. Can it?


Tommy leaned over, his face just inches from mine. He stroked his fingers through my hair. "I am the head of this household, and I have only

what is best for you in mind, even if you don't see it now."


I was still speechless. I mean, I understood his words, but it…I was scared, and I had never let another man touch me before. I had saved

myself for marriage, had always been faithful to Tommy, despite temptations and desires along the way I had never been intimate with anyone

else until earlier tonight, with those women.


But now, two other men? That…that…I couldn't form the words. I knew, at least I thought I knew, he must be right. I inhaled, shivering, and

waited…I had no words, no arguments, no logical reason to fend them off.


 


Chapter 4





Tommy kissed me, gently pressing his lips to mine. Behind him I saw the men, pulling off their shirts, dropping their pants.


Tommy stood, stepped away, and they stepped toward me. The light, the one from the bathroom, winked out – Tommy must have turned it off –

and the lamplight from the corner wasn't enough to illuminate much of the room, casting everything in shadows. I closed my eyes, and then

felt hands – two of them, caressing my breasts, another hand on the inside of my left thigh.



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oral sex  wife share  stranger sex  humiliation  lesbian sex  public sex  spanking  discipline  Catholic  
Baptist  religio  

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Author Information

Traci Wilde is a member of the After Midnight Press cooperative, penning hot, steaming, erotic shorts stories and novels deep into the night.

Here's what her colleagues at After Midnight Press have to say about her: "The name seems to fit, as our self-described wild-child sometimes draws from her own real-life experiences for her tales."

That's not to say every story she writes happened, but quite a few of them have a basis in real-life events. She's single (and says she will always remain so), lives in North Carolina at present (though she moves around every so often), and counts among her hobbies running, watching the stars at night, and...well, having sex. Often.

 

Website:
http://aftermidnightpress.blogspot.com/

Contact Traci Wilde


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This Site Owned By Fiction4Adults - Copyright Ó 2015

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