Lyra, the dominant wife, punishes the guards with expert fellatio and double penetration. Owen watches with excitement as love and domination intertwine in a perfect dance.
The room was bathed in a warm, golden light, filtering through the silk curtains that fluttered gently in the morning breeze. In the center of the room, a large oak desk dominated the space, its surface covered in scrolls, quills, and ink bottles. Lyra, the tomboyish wife with fiery red hair, sat in her chair, her slender but muscular figure bent over a text she was writing with a steady hand. Her concentration was absolute, but her lips, slightly curved in a smile, betrayed an anticipation that went beyond the words she traced on the paper.
Owen, her husband, watched from the doorway, his blue eyes following Lyra's every move with a mixture of admiration and desire. He knew how dominant his wife was, how much she enjoyed being in control, and today would be no different. He had arranged everything to make the punishment of guards Garret and Thorne unforgettable, both for them and for him. The two men, kneeling on the floor in front of the desk, looked down, ashamed and afraid. The night before, they had tried to drug Lyra, and now they would pay for their audacity.
Lyra looked up from her scroll, her green eyes glowing with an intensity that made the guards tremble. "Rise," her voice ordered, firm but melodious. Garret and Thorne obeyed, their bodies tense as they stood. Lyra rose from her chair, her presence filling the room with an energy that was both seductive and menacing. "You thought you could toy with me," she said, approaching them with slow, deliberate steps. "But today you will learn that no one messes with me like the guildmaster and gets away with it."
She stopped in front of Garret, her hand reaching out to grasp his chin, forcing him to look at her. "You," she whispered, her breath hot on his face, "will be the first to taste my punishment." Without further ado, she knelt in front of him, her hands sliding to his waist to unbutton his pants. Garret gasped as Lyra pulled out his erect cock, its thickness and length a testament to her nervousness. With a mischievous smile, Lyra brought her lips to the tip, her tongue grazing the glans before engulfing it to the root.
The moan that escaped Garret's throat was a mixture of pleasure and surprise. Lyra was skilled in the art of fellatio, her lips and tongue working in harmony to extract every drop of pleasure from her victim. But it wasn't just pleasure that Garret felt; it was a sweet pain, a sensation of being dominated that made him feel alive and insignificant at the same time. Lyra looked into his eyes as she sucked, her expression a mixture of lust and power.
Thorne, watching from the sidelines, couldn't tear his eyes away. His own cock was rock hard, his breathing quickening as he imagined what it felt like to have Lyra between his legs. He didn't have to wait long. Lyra stood, her mouth glistening with Garret's saliva, and approached Thorne with the same determination. "Your turn," she murmured, her hands already unbuttoning his pants.
Thorne closed his eyes as Lyra took his cock into her mouth, her hot lips enveloping it with a pressure that made him arch his back. The pleasure was overwhelming, but there was something else too: a feeling of submission, of being owned by this woman who dominated him so easily. Lyra alternated between sucking hard and licking gently, making Thorne moan and squirm, caught in a whirlwind of conflicting sensations.
Owen, meanwhile, had moved closer to the desk, his hand sliding inside his pants to stroke his own cock, medium-sized but hard as steel. Watching his wife dominate these men excited him in ways he couldn't explain. It was his cuckold fetish, the knowledge that Lyra could have any man she wanted, but she chose to be with him. It was a thought that filled him with a strange pride and intense arousal.
Lyra finally pulled away from Thorne, her lips red and swollen from exertion. Both guards were panting, their cocks glistening and erect, but there was also a sheen of sweat on their foreheads, a testament to the intense pleasure and pain they had experienced. Lyra smiled, satisfied, and stood, walking to the desk to take two condoms from a drawer. "We're not done yet," she said, her voice husky with desire.
Con movimientos precisos, Lyra colocó los condones sobre las pollas de los guardias, asegurándose de que estuvieran bien ajustados. Luego, se dio la vuelta, su trasero firme y musculoso destacado por la ajustada tela de sus pantalones. "Venid aquí," ordenó, y los guardias obedecieron, sus ojos clavados en su figura mientras se acercaban.
Lyra se agachó, sus manos apoyadas en el escritorio, y miró por encima de su hombro a Owen. "Mira, esposo," susurró, su voz cargada de intención. "Mira cómo domino a a estos débiles hombres." Con un movimiento fluido, se levantó ligeramente, guiando la polla de Garret hacia su entrada. El guardia contuvo el aliento cuando Lyra lo engulló, su calor y humedad envolviéndolo como un guante.
Thorne no tuvo que esperar mucho. Lyra se ajustó, acomodando su cuerpo para recibirlo también. Los gemidos de los guardias llenaron la habitación mientras Lyra comenzaba a moverse, su trasero oscilando suavemente mientras los montaba a ambos. Era una imagen de pura dominación, Lyra en el centro, controlando el ritmo, sus manos apretando el borde del escritorio mientras se movía con una gracia felina.
Owen, su polla en la mano, se acercó más, su respiración entrecortada mientras observaba la escena. Lyra era su esposa, su líder, su todo. Y en ese momento, mientras la veía dominar a estos hombres con tanta facilidad, se sintió más enamorado de ella que nunca. Masturbándose con movimientos lentos y deliberados, se unió al coro de gemidos, su voz mezclándose con las de los guardias mientras Lyra los llevaba al borde del abismo.
El clímax llegó en una ola de placer intenso. Los guardias se derrumbaron, sus cuerpos temblorosos mientras Lyra los liberaba, sus semillas llenando los condones. Lyra se levantó, su rostro brillante de sudor, y se acercó a Owen, su brazo extendiéndose para abrazarlo. "Sabes que te amo, ¿verdad?" susurró, su mano deslizándose para acariciar su polla mediana. "Y sé que te gusta verme así."
Owen asintió, su cabeza apoyada en su hombro, su corazón latiendo con fuerza. "Te amo," murmuró, su voz ronca de emoción. Lyra sonrió, su mano apretando su polla con suavidad. "Y yo a ti, mi cornudo favorito," susurró, antes de besarlo con una pasión que borró todo lo demás.
En ese momento, mientras el sol brillaba a través de las ventanas y la habitación se llenaba de una calma cálida, Lyra y Owen se abrazaron, sus cuerpos unidos en un amor que trascendía las palabras. Los guardias, exhaustos y satisfechos, yacían en el suelo, sus mentes todavía procesando lo que había sucedido. Pero para Lyra y Owen, era solo otro día en su vida juntos, un día en el que el amor, el deseo y la dominación se entrelazaban en una danza perfecta.
And as Lyra carried Owen in her arms, leading him to the bed to continue their game of pleasure and submission, the room fell silent, only the whisper of their laughter and moans filling the air. It was a unique love, a love only they could understand, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.