Indian Husband Watches Wife Get Ready For Night Out… It was a Saturday evening. My wife Sabrina was in front of the mirror in our huge master bedroom, getting ready for a girls’ night out. She was wearing a thin chiffon sari, the material transparent enough so one could see the milky white skin of her perfectly toned stomach, and the little diamond stud piercing she had on her navel. The sari wrapped tightly around her curvaceous body, leaving nothing to the imagination. She smiled at her reflection and puckered her lips, thinking of the right shade of lipstick to apply.
And there was I. Legs spread apart, bent over double on a high chair, with the cushion of the padded back of the chair pressing into my tummy, my hands tied to the bottom of the legs of the chair, my face pressed onto the seat of the chair, and my buttocks up in the air, ready to be paddled. With my legs spread as they were, my penis and balls hung out over the back of the chair. Occasionally, as my wife brushed her hair, she would wrap her hands around my shaft and gently rub me. Right now, I was left alone to my thoughts as she applied her make up.
“Amit!” My wife suddenly addressed me.
“Yes, dear.” Obediently I answered, remembering never to take her name, and keeping my tone deferential.
Sabrina had turned to look at my submissive position and made a face.
“My gosh!” She exclaimed. “You look like a pathetic fuck!”
“Yes, dear.”
“Look at that dirty big ass, hanging up in the air.” She laughed.
SMACK! SMACK!
Smacking my bum once or twice, she turned back to the mirror and picked out a mascara.
“I like having you like this on the chair,” She said, as she started to apply her mascara. “Like the inadequate loser that you are.”
I remained silent. Sabrina put down the mascara, turned around and grabbed my dick in her hand.
“Want me to stroke that pathetic little wiener, do you?” She taunted, gently tugging at it to and fro. “Hmm?”
“Yes, dear.” I croaked.
“Well,” Sabrina turned around so she held my penis in one hand while I remained in my humble position. With her other hand she picked out an eye shadow.
“I am going out with some of my girl friends tonight,” She told me as she gently stroked my manhood, while simultaneously continuing to apply her make up with her other hand. “I will be having a fun time. Searching for real men, of course.”
“Yes, dear.”
“Unlike you. Why, look at you!” Sabrina turned once more so that she was now facing me. “Are you having a nice time with your tushy up in the air?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Good.” Sabrina continued to stroke me as she looked me over. “I am going to rub your fucking little cock but you better not fucking cum, do you understand me?”
“Yes, dear.”
“And if you do, you are going to get a proper beating like a naughty school boy, do you understand, you disgusting piece of shit?”
“Yes, dear.”
Sabrina rubbed her thumb against the tip of my penis for some time, and then thankfully let go of me. She continued with her make up.
I was now quite hard. The whole situation as I, a respected senior engineer in a famed multinational Indian company, submitted myself so thoroughly and humiliatingly to my diminutive, petite young wife, as she rubbed me and stroked me while taunting me about her night out was having its effect on me.