Sasha lounged on the plush velvet couch in her lavish boudoir, auburn hair cascading over her shoulders like a fiery waterfall. She wore a skimpy black lace teddy that left little to the imagination, emphasizing her bountiful curves and toned midriff. Her sapphire eyes glinted wickedly as she surveyed the scene before her – her husband, John, kneeling submissively at her feet, eyes downcast as he awaited her next command. “Look at me,” she ordered, voice dripping with dominant authority. He obeyed, gazing up at her with puppy dog eyes that sent a thrill through her core. She smirked, reaching out to caress his cheek condescendingly. “Good boy,” she purred. “You’re learning your place.” John shivered, nuzzling into her touch. Sasha chuckled darkly. It never ceased to amaze her how much he got off on being belittled and controlled. He was the perfect cuckold – always eager to submit to her whims. She crooked a finger at him and he scrambled to obey, crawling forward on hands and knees until his face was level with her pussy. She could feel the heat of his breath through the thin lace of her teddy and she squirmed, pulse quickening. “Breathe me in,” she commanded. “Get a good whiff of how another man marked me as his property.” John shuddered, burying his face between her thighs to inhale deeply. Sasha let out a low moan, back arching as she ground against him. “That’s it,” she purred. “Smell how filthy your wife is. How many men have been inside this pussy today?” He whimpered pathetically, rubbing his face against her crotch like a dog in heat. “Many, Mistress Sasha,” he panted. “So many.” Sasha grinned, pleased by his eager submission. “And how does that make you feel?” she asked cruelly. “Horny,” he breathed. “Humbled. Grateful to be your cuck.” She smiled, reaching down to fondle his weeping erection through his pants. “Oh you are grateful, aren’t you?” she teased. “I bet you’d do anything to service me, even if it means worshipping the evidence of my infidelity.” John shuddered, eyes pleading as he stared up at her. “Please,” he begged. “Let me taste them. Let me lick the cum from your used cunt.” Sasha’s grin widened into a savage smirk. “Since you asked so nicely…” She reached down to peel the teddy away, exposing her dripping folds to his hungry gaze. John groaned, eyes crossing as he leaned in to lave his tongue along her slit. “Yes, taste it,” she hissed, gripping his hair and forcing his face harder against her. “Taste the men who used your wife like a cheap whore. Lick up every drop of their seed.” John obeyed with gusto, slurping and moaning as he lapped at her soaked pussy like a starving animal. Sasha cried out, hips bucking as he worked her clit with the tip of his tongue. “That’s it,” she panted. “Just like that. Fuck, you’re a good little cuck.” She yanked his head back just before she could orgasm, glaring down at him imperiously. “Did I say you could make me come?” she demanded. John shook his head frantically, eyes wide and fearful. “N-no, Mistress Sasha,” he stammered. “I’m sorry.” She released him with a huff, reaching down to rub her clit slowly. “I think I need a real cock to finish me off now,” she declared. “Why don’t you scurry off and bring me a proper fucktoy?” John nodded eagerly, scrambling to his feet. He made it to the door before turning back to her, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Where would you like me to find one?” Sasha’s grin was vicious and predatory. “I think the gym across the street has some nice young studs,” she purred. “You go see about borrowing one for a bit. And when you return… I want you to sit right there.” She pointed to the corner of the room. “And watch him make me scream.” John paled but obediently set off, mind reeling with thoughts of what was to come – his final humiliation at the hands of his depraved, cuckolding wife. And Sasha simply reclined on the couch and smiled – an apex predator, satisfied by the hunt and eager for the kill.