Your husband was teaching a special class tonight. So your usual modest dress was replaced with a little cheerleading outfit. The skirt doesn't cover the skimpy panties. The crop top doesn't hide the underside of your breasts.
"Some of you might be wondering why my wife is dressed so differently. She wanted to show just how big a cheerleader for me she is." Which draws some laughter.
You notice the crowd is in big recliners instead of the usual folding chairs. But when your husband starts speaking again, you focus on him.
"Tonight we are focused on a special topic. Why words are not a love language for women." His hand cupping your ass.
"We have all tried telling our wives how beautiful they are. Only to be met with resistance. And you don't understand why. The answer is simple. Girls are bad at thinking. Their little brains focus on picking it apart and not accepting it. So you need to do something to short circuit their brains." You find yourself whimpering as he grabs your throat in front of all of these people.
"What a pretty little piece of ass you are." The entire audience heard your moan in response. "See, how she enjoyed it? Her little brain got turned off. She didn't think and get in her own way." A little squeeze before he lets go.
"A woman's doesn't want a man to tell her he is leading. She wants him to lead. She doesn't want him telling her that he owns her. She wants to be owned." His hand grabbing your hair, pulling it back to force your throat to be exposes to him.
"Are you my cunt?" Smacking your cunt as he forces your head back. You say yes. "That's not how my cunt responds." Smack after smack hits your cunt until you are begging and pleading that you are his whore.
"See. If you tell them things and let them have time to think, their answer will be useless." He lets go of your hair. You can see the crowd reclining in their chairs. Skirts up, panties aside as the women openly finger themselves. Cocks out as the men pleasure themselves.
"Get on your knees." You try to speak. Wanting to tell him that you don't want these people to watch you give head. "See. Let's try this." A good hard slap turns your head. "Knees." And you did, falling to your knees. Putting your mouth around his cock as his hand presses you down the shaft. Starting to fuck your mouth as he speaks.
"She didn't want to blow me in front of a crowd. But like most female decisions, it's just wrong. So I gave her a good slap and now she is doing what he was meant to. Pleasing me."
Making you gag on his cock again and again. "That's why you can't let your wife think to much. Just imagine the tears she would be in for failing me. Terrified I would just throw her away. But look at her now. See what a good little fleshlight she is. A good slap kept her from being upset."
Pausing to hold your head down as he nuts down your throat before letting go. Helping you up and spinning you go have your back to the crowd. His hand forcing you to lean forward. Your skimpy panties just torn away. His feet forcing you to spread your legs.
Slipping two fingers inside you, finger fucking you front of the crowd. The microphone near your twat, letting everyone hear how wet you are. Withdrawing his fingers before you can cum. But still making sure everyone can see.
"Now my wife has said public sex is a limit. A hard no." Taking out the vibe and teasing you with it. "This is why so many men believe in orgasm denial. My wife hasn't cum in three months. And the last two days I have made her be a good little goonette."
"It's important to know that besides physical violence, you can use lust to short circuit a whore's brain." You feel him manhandle you, turning you without letting you up. "Beg me to fuck you and you might get some relief. And you do don't you. You. Beg and plead for the cock you crave. Like the worthless set of holes you are.