Whipped Fraternity

Robyn Anders









Whipped Fraternity Copyright 2013 by Robyn Anders, all rights reserved. No portion of this novel may be duplicated, transmitted, or stored in any form without the express written permission of the publisher.


Cover design by Rob Preece. Photographs by Rj Dollen, Jimmy Joe under Creative Commons with Attribution. Image of woman with whip is Public Domain by Marceluwool.


Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.


This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and locations are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or people is coincidental.



Published by BooksForABuck.com


Chapter One

Ready, Nik?”

I nodded. My wonderful husband James had tied me up especially tight the previous evening after a round with his quirt that left my rear tingly and sexy.

After eight hours firmly secured in my pallet on the side of his bed, my body was pins and needles—sensitized to the point where I would feel everything in exquisite and painful detail.

Not that I’d complain—I didn’t ever complain. In ten years of marriage, my husband had taught me a lot, and the first lesson was to thank him for whatever he chose to give me.

“Morning sweetie,” I told him when he removed my gag and lifted me onto his bed. “May I remove—”

I reached for my blindfold anticipating his response, but he grabbed my hands and handcuffed my wrists behind me.

“I like to watch your big cock while I eat it,” I assured him. Like all men, he enjoyed being told how big he was. I hadn’t been very experienced when he’d selected me from the girls enrolled in his ‘Math for Humanities’ class. I still thought calling it ‘big’ was a bit of an exaggeration—not that I’d ever tell him that.

“Not today, Nik.”

My name was Nichole d’Angre, but he always called me Nik. I called him ‘sir,’ or ‘master.’

“No blow job?” A lot of times, he was too tired for sex in the evening. I couldn’t remember his ever not demanding his morning release, though.

“You can start me. But leave the blindfold on.”

His cock was as swollen as I could remember it being and I stuffed it into my mouth. It was easier when he left my hands free, so I could rest my weight on my elbows and grip him with my fingers. James went out of his way to make sure I never got complacent, though. He’d cuffed me dozens of times and I’d learned to satisfy him without my hands.

“Take it deep, Nik,” he told me, exactly as if he hadn't given me the same order thousands of times before. “Until you choke.”

I tilted my head back, fighting the gag reflex as I sucked his cock deeper into my mouth and down my throat.

I couldn’t breathe with it in that deep, and I’d panicked the first few times he’d held it there until black spots spun across my eyes from suffocation. I still felt the fear but James had taught me to control that fear rather than let it control me.

His legs trembled against my breasts as I made the purring sound he likes.

He moaned and grabbed my head, shoving his dick even deeper down my throat.

He’d been eating mustard again—I tasted it in his pre-cum—almost gagging me. I didn’t think he even liked mustard but he ate it anyway just to give me the full sensation his taste.

My heart swelled when I considered how much he must really care for me, how he’d altered his life to make sure I was perfectly trained. He’d spent so much of his precious time helping me become exactly the woman he wanted. Lots of faculty wives complained that their husbands neglected them, ended up married to their work rather than to any woman. Lots also complained that their husbands were pencil-necked nerds. Nobody would accuse James of either of those sins.

I breathed again as he pulled out. This was when he normally gave me my morning facial.

Today, though, he rolled away. “Lick my butt, Nik.”

I shrugged. He normally wanted his rim job at night. In the morning, it was blowjob, breakfast, and then go.

I confess I was a little disappointed when I felt his hips moving as I slid my tongue into his crack. Was he masturbating when he could fill my mouth or ass? Hell, it was my birthday—in honor of that occasion, I’d dared hope he might even spend in my vagina.

Complaining, though, was never wise. James gave me what I needed, regardless of what I thought I wanted.

I pushed my tongue deeper into his butt-hole. Even after all the years we’d been together, I still felt a little nasty when I tongued his bottom, as if a part of me worried someone could walk in and catch me while I was doing it.

Finally he rolled over and splashed my face with his semen.

I smiled, opened my mouth, and tried to catch it while he tried to make me miss and to cover my face and tits with his hot spunk. It was a game we played and I relaxed. Things were back to normal.

As I did every morning after I'd satisfied him, I got out of bed and knelt on my pallet. Occasionally he’d leave me there for the day, but generally he’d free me and let me make his breakfast. Once in a while, he'd allow me to masturbate or even pleasure me himself.

Today, though, he reached down and grasped my shoulders, squeezing them until I squeaked in pain.

“I told you just to start me. I didn’t want to come on you.”

Once, I would have argued he was being unfair. He'd told me to lick his butt and I'd followed his orders. Painful training had taught me not to complain. “It's my privilege to help you come every morning,” I reminded him.

“That was before. Now you're thirty years old.”

“It’s not every day a girl turns thirty.” I wondered again if he'd planned something special to celebrate. Had my over-enthusiastic tongue-work in his asshole kept me from getting my pussy filled with his cock?

“How about you jump back in bed?" I suggested. "I’ll whip up some pancakes with the fresh strawberries I bought yesterday. Then, if you've got the time, you can fuck me any way you want.”

He grabbed my handcuffs where they still restrained my arms behind my back, jerking them upward.

I had to drop my forehead to the ground, but I’d learned how to hit the pallet and didn't hurt myself. James liked me to grovel for him and it was fun for both of us as long as I didn’t carelessly injure myself.

He didn't make me grovel for long, though. A jingle and a quick snick and my hands were free.

“May I remove my blindfold, master?” I asked. Once, years before, I’d taken it off without asking. It had been a mistake he’d taught me not to repeat.

“Sure. Take it off.”

I slipped the black blindfold off my eyes and froze. A girl, undoubtedly one of his co-eds, lay in bed next to him. She looked pissed and wore a tiny silk robe so short it left her shaven pussy exposed.  One of her oversized breasts hung out at the top.

Little co-ed wasn’t the only person pissed. I’d known that James wasn’t faithful. He’d explained to me that he was a man, had a man’s hunger for variety. But he always left those floozies at school. At home, it was just the two of us. With me so perfectly trained, what use could he have for more.

“What the hell—”

James held out a hand. “Nik.”

I ignored the warning in his voice—the first time I’d ever done that since I could remember. “I’m not going to—”

He grabbed my arm, twisted it, and forced my ball gag into my mouth, tying it behind my head with practiced efficiency. “Listen to me, Nik. You’re thirty years old. In a man, that’s nothing. For a woman, it’s over the hill. It’s time for me to move on.”

I nodded, then gestured for the gag.

"Are you going to be reasonable?"

I nodded again.

He removed it, then caught one of my nipples between his thumb and finger and twisted. "Behave or I'll have to punish you."

“Yes, sir."

"You can go ahead and make breakfast for Amber and me. I'm certain she'll forgive you for making me come on you when I’d promised to squirt all over her double-D’s. After all, we’ll have plenty of time for me to spray her now that you’re moving out."

"But—but I’m your wife. I live here.”

He shook his lion-like head. “We were married, Nik. The divorce is final this morning. Right about now, in fact. Surely you remember signing the papers.”

I looked at him. James was tall, blond, and muscular. He reminded me of the Norse god, Thor, only with an expensive haircut. I’d met him when I’d been eighteen and a freshman at Cambridge State University in Mississippi. He’d been a sexy young professor who’d cut me out of the gaggle of girls hanging around after his lectures, took my virginity, trained me to please him, and made sure my whole life consisted of pleasing him. I'd even dropped out of college before completing my degree so I could make his home perfect. And now, just because I'd turned thirty, he was dumping me.

I wanted to scream, to throw myself at a co-ed who looked about as young as I’d been when James had first singled me out. “How could we be divorced without me knowing?”

“You signed the paperwork months ago. You never bothered to read it.”

Of course I hadn’t. He'd trained me not to read anything. He didn’t like it when I didn't instantly give him what he demanded.

“But what about alimony.”

He laughed. “You’re off the hook. I didn’t ask for any.”

“Doesn't the wife normally get the house?“

“My house? Hardly. It's always been in my name. Now, serve us the breakfast you offered. I've got a lot of training for Amber before I head for my classes.”

Ten minutes before, I’d thought I was the happiest of women. Now, I was a thirty-year-old has-been, relegated to serving breakfast in bed to my husband and his new sex-toy.

“Don’t even think about taking any jewelry,” Amber said. “And I can’t believe you made him blow on your face like that. That spunk was for me. He had his big cock in my ass until you tricked him into turning.”

While James still held me, she used her fingernails to scrape his semen off my face and licked it off her hands. “This is all mine now.”

I didn’t want to cry in front of her, but tears spilled from beneath my lashes, running into the scratches she’d made on my face.

“We're ready for breakfast any time.” James made it sound like he was doing me a huge favor letting me serve him despite my advanced age.

He shoved me toward the bedroom door. “Oh, and feel free to make enough so that you can have leftovers.”


He moved incredibly quickly, grabbing my long black hair and yanking on it. “What did you say?”

“I will, master. Thank you.”

“That’s better. Who knows? If you stay in the area, maybe I’ll make time to give you a little extra training from now and then. It would be a shame to waste all the energy I spent on you, and most of the other men in this town are complete wusses. Which is why I end up training most of their wives. Plus I put a couple hundred dollars in your bank account. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

I knew what to say. “Thank you, master.”

“I don’t see my breakfast.”

“Right away, master.”

* * * *

It took me fifteen minutes to put together a couple stacks of pancakes with strawberries and maple syrup, bacon, and hot coffee.

The first batch wasn’t perfect and, for a rebellious moment, I considered giving it to Amber and keeping good ones for myself. James wouldn’t notice—he only noticed what affected him. Worse than punishment, though, would be the knowledge I'd failed him. I set the undercooked batch aside for myself and put the others on china plates and trays.

I carried the trays into the bedroom and had to fight the temptation to throw the pancakes at Amber. James had always told me I wasn’t the rebellious type, that I was a perfect woman. Hell, I always meant it when I thanked James for each bruise and stripe he’d given me with his riding quirt. Today, the urge to fight back was practically overpowering and that surprised me. Even before I'd met James, I'd tried to satisfy those around me. My mother had told me that a good southern woman exists to please others, and I'd taken those words to heart.

But James had crossed a line. He knew when I’d be coming with breakfast. He had to have heard me coming down the hall with my trays. Instead of waiting until I couldn’t watch, he’d set Amber on her hands and knees on the bed and was taking her from behind, one of his big hands holding her long blond hair like a leash while he pulled his dick deeper into her butt with every stroke.

“Thank you, Nik. Put the trays by the table.” He spoke without a break in his rhythm.

"Yes, sir." My rebelliousness evaporated at his kind words. "May I go and clean up, now." His semen was drying on my skin and in my hair.

"Straighten up the kitchen. I'll supervise your cleaning, later."

"Yes, sir."

Back in the kitchen, I plopped the slightly doughy pancakes into the bowl on the floor, knelt in front of it, put my hands behind my back, and ate, facedown. The bowl was marked 'Fido.'

It wasn't until James walked in on me that I thought to wonder whether I'd have to eat like this once I moved out. On my own, I could eat at a table, with flatware. I ate that way when we went to faculty parties, of course, but I hadn't done so in private since I'd moved into James's home.

"Good girl." James ran his quirt down my spine. "Did you lick up every bite?"

"Yes, master."

"Then it's time to clean up."

I nodded and stood. I knew I had food all over my face. I also knew I was dirty from having my face in James's butt and from his spewing me. But my food bowl was clean and James always inspected me before he left to be certain he didn't leave a mess behind.

"You and Amber in the shower," he commanded. "Clean each other off."

Amber and I were naked except for our dog collars.

James had presented me with my collar after we'd had sex for the first time, and I'd never taken it off since that day. Wearing it to faculty wives’ meetings could be embarrassing, especially as he'd had it fitted with tags that identified me as his property. But I’d worn it proudly because it told the world that I was a part of James’s life.

When she’d been on the bed with him earlier, Amber's neck had been bare. Now a leather dog collar, complete with small steel spikes, was padlocked so tightly that it left red marks on her skin… just as mine did to me.

Her tags sparkled in the morning sunlight. She looked proud of the collar—as indeed she should. James had sex with a lot of women but Amber was the first, since we'd married, that he'd claimed in such a visible way.

Unlike Amber and myself, James wasn't naked. His Chinese-print robe showed off his great build, and the erection underneath it. My mouth watered at the sight—just as he'd trained me to respond.

"Sir.” I gestured toward his dick. “May I—"

He traced the riding crop across the collar, then let its tip feather my crack and lightly probe my vaginal lips.

"Get up and clean up. Amber and I have a run ahead of us."

I swallowed as I stood. James didn't allow me to argue, but clearly he was making a mistake. I’d be failing him if I let him continue. “I’m obviously better than Amber is, even if I am thirty. Couldn’t you let me stay and—”

His crop whistled as it cut through the air, then smacked into my ass. "Shower. Clean Amber off. I'll be inspecting her and will punish you if she isn't completely clean."

I'd cleaned James, often enough. He liked me to lather myself, then rub my soapy body over his, playing special attention to his ass and cock. I'd never thought about how I'd do it with a woman. I never imagined I'd have to.

"Why don't you wash me, sweetie?" Amber simpered.

Crack. James brought his quirt down on her buttocks. "Call me sir. And follow instructions. If I wanted to wash you, I would have given that order."

James, I thought, would have his hands full training this one.

Not wanting the lesson of the quirt again, I hurried into the shower and soaped my body. I'd needed to get the food and semen out of my face and hair, anyway.

Amber entered the shower like a mouse entering a house full of cats. She jerked back from me when I stepped forward to rub my soapy body over her, and James struck her again, this time raising a small welt on one of her oversized breasts.

"See how obedient Nik is," he observed. "You'll have to learn how to anticipate my desires the way she does. Don't worry, though. You’re young. You've got time. "

I rubbed Amber with my body, then slid my soapy hands between her legs to clean off her pussy and asshole. If I didn't clean her completely, James would make me finish the job with my tongue—it was an honor to clean him that way but I didn't want to stick my tongue up Amber's butt. "How old are you?" I whispered.

“A lot younger than you,” she sneered.

James groaned as I spread Amber's lips wide to let the shower pour clear water into her pussy. "You do that so well,” he said, “I'm almost tempted to set up a pallet for you in the kitchen and let you stay as our body servant."

"Please, sir," I breathed. If only he didn't kick me out, surely he'd soon see how much better trained I was, how Amber was hopeless. Surely he'd love me again.

He laughed. "No. I'm afraid I can't afford for my friends to think I'd have any woman over thirty in my life, even as a kitchen servant. Especially as you were once my special property."

"Sir," I protested.

“Be ready to leave when we return. I’ll search you, of course.”

* * * *

I'd never realized how little I owned. James liked me naked around the house, so I had only a few outfits to wear when I went shopping and to faculty parties. I put on my nicest casual clothes, a pair of khaki slacks and a top that tied around the midriff but didn't show all of my tits. I'd only worn it once, as James had never pulled it out of his closet after the first time. James would never admit he'd made a mistake, even in as simple a thing about buying an outfit that didn't display my body the way he liked to, so he hadn't returned it or thrown it away. Compared to my other choices, it was the safest outfit I owned.

It was the first time I’d picked my own clothes in ten years.

I didn't own any panties, and James only bought shelf-style bras with no covering for the nipples. Generally, my nipples showed through everything I wore, but this top's fabric was thick enough that they weren't real obvious. I'd need to find work and I didn't want to look like my only skill was sex, even though I feared that was the case.

After packing a couple of party dresses and my cutoff shorts, and a few cropped t-shirts into a shopping bag I knelt by the door to wait James's return.

Amber had a couple new stripes on her thighs, and her neck was raw from the collar when James unlocked the door, returning from their run. She heeled nicely, though, so I had to reluctantly admit the woman was learning. It had taken me several days of training to learn to stay at his heel and to instantly crouch whenever he came to a stop.

James had bought her a running outfit identical to what I'd always worn for our runs--shorts cut to expose most of her butt-cheeks, and a t-shirt cropped so high that the bottom half of her huge breasts were always visible.

James unhooked Amber’s leash, tossed it into the bowl he’d always used for storing my leash, then jerked his thumb my way. "Kneel the way Nik is kneeling, Amber."

The co-ed immediately dropped to her knees and crawled over to me, only then raising her hands off the ground.

"Good job, Amber. You're ready to go, Nik?"

"Yes, sir. If you'd tell me the name of the bank where you opened my account—"

"Of course." He took a Sharpie from a stand in the entryway and wrote something on the underside of my breast. "That's the account information at First Bank of Cambridge. You'll have to let the bank manager read the number," he informed me. "I'm afraid it's out of your vision."

"Yes, sir." I studied him. The air conditioning had been running all night, and the day must be getting hotter because he dripped with sweat from his run. My pussy moistened at the sight of my sexy husband—or ex-husband, and in response to his firm grasp on my breast.

"I can tongue you dry before I leave, sir." I was terrified about being out on my own, desperate to prove that I was indispensible.

He shook his head. "Amber will handle that. Good luck, Nik. You're a good girl. If you don't find anything in a couple of weeks, give me a call."

My heart pounded. “You mean—"

"I might be able to sell you to one of the faculty bachelors who're too chicken to hunt themselves up more than an occasional co-ed. Or that gay one in the closet needs cover. He’d probably pay a lot to have a well-trained cunt."

I knew the guys he was talking about. Calling them dweebs was an insult to dweebs the world over. Still, he’d been thinking about me, worrying about my future. "Thank you, sir."

He poked through my shopping bag and pulled out my favorite dress--one he'd given me a month before but that I'd never had a chance to wear. "I'd think this would fit on Amber. Don't you agree, Nik?"

My eyes misted. I loved that dress. "Yes, sir. Of course."

"Excellent. Then we'll keep it. You may have the rest of this. In fact, there's no need for you to repay me their value. Consider it all my gift."

"Thank you, sir."

He dialed the combination on his safe and tossed my passport and birth certificate into the shopping bag, then finally added my food bowl. "I'll buy a new bowl for Amber so you can have this one, Nik. I saw one at the pet store last month labeled Spike. Amber seems more of a Spike type, don’t you agree?"

I nodded. He'd claimed my papers the day we'd married and I'd only seen them since when he'd taken me along on one of his international junkets. Getting them back made it impossible for me to deny my situation.

"I'm sure I'll see you around, Nik.” He pinched my nipple to command my attention. I know you won't claim recognition unless I make eye contact."

"Of course I won't, sir."

"Fine." He dropped his shorts and I wondered if he'd take me one last time. "Amber. Strip down and crawl over here. I'm sweaty and I don't have time for a shower before my first class."

Amber lapped at his balls while James grabbed her long blond hair. Both ignored me.

I got back on my knees and waited until he looked my way. "Is that all, sir?"

"Oh. Right. Come here, Nik." He pulled off his shirt and turned around so Amber could lick the sweat off his back and armpits.

Was he going to kiss me goodbye? I tried to remember the last time he'd kissed me on the lips but couldn't. It was funny to think that I hadn’t even noticed when kissing had left our relationship? Not that he'd ever been big on kissing my lips. Generally our kisses had involved my lips on whatever part of his body he designated.

Instead of a kiss, he took a key and unfastened my collar. "You aren't my property any more, Nik. You don't get to wear my collar."

I straightened my blouse so my breasts were covered. Without the collar, though, I felt more naked than I had in my life.

I was alone in the world.

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