How I've spent the Last Six Months Part Eight

So imagine this.

The marriage you’d just condemned has suddenly been resurrected. The wimpy, pathetic, hateful husband you’ve detested and derided for the last three months suddenly ends up landing a job that earns even more than you do. You go from having no sex for almost three months to Hubby dragging you upstairs, throwing you face down in the pillows and fucking you hard and fast and fucking BEAUTIFULLY until you scream into the cushions and Hubby deposits a pint of sticky stuff deep inside your creamy little cunt.

Now I’ve never had a second honeymoon (we hardly had a first – I got food poisoning the second day in) but that week really felt like it. I have never found my husband sexier or more dynamic. He wasn’t the useless fucking prick I’d accused him of being. He was the beautiful, muscular man with the good job and that long, thick, hard cock that seemed to be permanently hard every time I touched it.

I actually took two days off work – and I’ve NEVER taken a day off work – the stay in bed with Hubby.

We took the collar out and I he was deliciously dominant for an entire day. He kept me naked from morning until night. He tied my hands behind my back and pounded my pussy until I screamed. He took a cheap plastic fly swatter and went right to town on my big, round ass – and I loved it.

In fact as much as that fly swatter stung – and MAN did it sting – that was the best part of it all.

Hubby must have been taking three months anger and frustration out on my arse. I was accepting it for all the things I’d done my Hubby had no idea about.

Lying face down on the bed, tears streaming down my cheeks, I gritted my teeth and took the blows.

WHAP! Whap! WHAP! Oh, Christ, I thought I’d die.

“You’re a dirty little slut,” he’d bark.

“I’m a dirty little slut, Master,” I sobbed – and I really was.

As the next three stinging blows set my arse aflame, I remembered the taste of salty cum and cocoa butter all mixed up on Darren’s pale, torpedo penis.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! Oh, it was glorious. Being punished for my sins!

“You’re a bossy little bitch!” Hubby roared. “You need to be taught obedience.”

Oh, God, I did. I just wanted to melt into a little puddle. I just wanted to disconnect my angry, confused, busy brain and drift in dreamless, delicious obedience.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

And then it stopped.

This was my favourite bit. When Hubby lovingly rubbed and caressesed my stinging bottom. When he breathed hotly into my ear.

“You’ll be a good girl, won’t you,” he murmured. “You’ll do exactly what I tell you too.”

“Yes, Master,” the endorphins were racing around my body. I was drunk with them. “I’ll do anything you say.”

“You’ll suck my cock. You’ll offer up your pussy and your arse.”

“Mmmmmm,” I purred in affirmation, biting my lip.

“You’ll do whatever I tell you. To whoever I tell you.”

My pussy was tingling.

“Please, touch me,” I begged.

“Tell me what I want to hear…”

I had no idea what he wanted to hear, but I made a pretty good guess.

“I want to suck your cock,” I groaned. “I want to lick your arse. I want you to fuck me and frig me and use me.”

His thick fingers reached between my thighs. The wet, fleshy folds of my pussy parted for him.

“Oh GOD,” I groaned, nearing the delicious surrender of orgasm.

“I’m going to have you fucked from here to Friday,” Hubby breathed hotly in my ear. “I’m going to screw you until you can’t stand. And then I’m going to let them have you.”

Who’s them, I wondered. As if reading my mind, Hubby purred:

“I’m going to find out just how submissive you can be, my little kitten,” oh, he was going to make me EXPLODE. “I’m going to put you to work on as many cunts and cocks as I can find.”

“You’ll… get… jealous….” I groaned, flashing back to Darren’s dick throbbing and spitting and spurting in my mouth.

“No,” Hubby hissed. “Whoever. Whatever. Whereever.”

His fingers worked their magic. I exploded in a glorious, technicolour orgasm.

I lay there, shuddering and shivering. Hands still tied behind my back, I couldn’t stop Hubby prising open my thighs and sliding his enormous erection straight into the gooey, moist heart of me. His hips banging against my enflamed bum was intense, but I was too exahausted to do anything. I just lay there and took it.

“I can’t wait to watch another man do this,” Hubby grinned, grinding away at me. “I can’t wait to watch you get fucked and suck a big, fat cock at the same time.” As if to demonstrate, he offered his fingers and I obediently, unthinkingly sucked them into my mouth.

Sweet, sweaty surrender. Just to fuck and suck and cum instead of thinking. Just the thought of lying there and satisfying somebody. Anybody.

“I sucked somebody…” I groaned.

Hubby’s pounding slowed.

“W-what..?”

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly.

“While we were fighting,” I explained. “When I went up to Birmingham.”

I swear to God his cock swelled.

“Who was it?” He started pounding me again now, really roughly. “Who the fuck was it?”

“You don’t know him,” I groaned, feeling his penis slid deeply inside of me, massaging my g-spot from an exquisite angle. “He’s just some kid.”

“Did you fuck him?”

“Y…yes…” I groaned. “In the ass….”

Ow! Hubby had just grabbed a fistful of hair and wrenched by head back.

“He fucked you in the arse?”

“No!” I cried. He was hurting me. “I fucked HIM. In HIS arse. With the rabbit. And I sucked him at the same time and…” oh, that had crept up on me, “and…” I let out a low moan… “And I’m cumming!”

Hubby let go of my hair. I flopped down into the covers.

Slap! Slap! Slap! His hips hammered against my arse.

“Did he come in your mouth?” Hubby demanded.

“Yes,” I groaned woozily. “A lot.”

“You fucking slut,” His hand was on the back of my neck, crushing me to the bed. “You fucking little slut. I can’t believe you sucked another guy’s cock…”

And then the delicious moment came.

“…without me being there to see it.”

He dug himself so deeply into me it hurt. The thick, meat missile buried inside of me throbbed. I felt him unloading himself inside my greedy pussy, deeper and harder and more intensely than I’d ever felt him cum before. Even as I confessed my betrayal, I felt more connected and closer to him than ever before in my life.

How I've Spent the Last six Months Part Four

As I drove up to that sales conference, Darren sitting silently in my passenger seat, I’d never been more furious in my life.

My husband! The fucking rat! Screwing some WHORE, no less. Was he using a condom? I guess it didn’t matter. He and I hadn’t so much as kissed in weeks so I didn't need to worry about his skanky slut giving ME an infection through him. But I was determined that as soon as I returned I was going to kick that fucker out of my life for good.

Now the sales conference was a nightmare.

It was long and it was hot and the conference hall didn’t even have air conditioning. Darren was like a little kid, far too scared to talk to me about anything. Not that I could concentrate! While some stupid ‘sales guru’ they’d flown in from America was up on stage talking about ‘closing’ and fear of loss,’ I was imagining what my Hubby’s prostitute looked like.

Was she younger than me? Was she prettier than me? I mean, I’m a good looking woman and I couldn’t imagine anybody really pretty would become a prostitute. But maybe she was desperate. Maybe she was on drugs or something. Shit! Maybe my husband was having sex with a junkie every weekend!

My day got even worse when it came to my presentation. Fucking stupid little Darren had one thing to remember – one fucking thing – and he forgot to bring it. I didn’t have the CD with my sales presentation on. So I had to stand in front of a room of a hundred of my peers and rattle off some crappy presentation from memory, with no charts or figures or graphs to guide me. I must have looked like a total idiot. The tepid applause when I’d finished pretty much confirmed that my speech had failed to impress.

By the time the conference wound up for the evening, I went to the hotel bar and ordered a bottle of chardonnay and started working hard to finish it.

I’d done quite well – probably about three quarters of the way down – when Darren slunk up to me like a naughty puppy. Fucking expense account bullshit meant we had to have dinner together, so there I was, pissed off and half drunk and sitting in a cheap hotel’s restaurant struggling with overpriced and undercooked chicken.

Now I have two small problems when I’m angry. I get bossy and bitchy and I get extremely horny. The alcohol wasn’t exactly helping, either. So I ate my dinner and glowered at Darren and I started thinking really dodgy things.

You see, my opinion of Darren had somewhat changed that day. When I’d first met him, I’d thought he was a cocky, arrogant little prick and cut him down to size. But now, since I’d already terrified him into submission, he’d basically become as docile and pathetic as a puppy. Add to that the fact he’d fucked up my presentation and the little dick was so eager to please it was embarrassing me. He sat down opposite me, nursing a pint of lager and trying to use a knife and fork to eat his hamburger.

I finished off my bottle of wine and moved onto my second and started giving Darren an entirely new appraisal.

He was a kid. A little, nervous, uncertain kid. All that macho blustering bullshit he and Matt had tried when they first arrived was just textbook overcompensation. Darren knew that he was a pretty worthless junior sales exec and not very high on the totem pole. He was looking across the table at me with a mixture of awe and terror.

And I didn’t mind that one little bit. I mean, Darren was actually a good looking kid. He was still slim and fairly muscular. Give him a few years and a few more pints of lager and he’d be chubby and sloppy like most of the sales dickheads at my company, but at the moment he was nice looking. And the smooth chin (I hate stubble) and baby soft skin was attractive. Darren looked clean and neat and malleable and I suddenly started thinking that he might be able to make up for his earlier fuck-up with some other service.

I decided it when he started apologizing for the six millionth time about forgetting the presentation CD.

“If you really want to make it up to me,” I hissed, buoyed by alcohol and horniness, “go upstairs.”

I handed him the key to my room.

“W-what?”

“Go upstairs,” I swigged down half a mouthful of chardonnay. “And I want you naked by the time I get there.”

Now I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. I was drunk, of course. I was also horny and pissed off. My fucking husband was probably in Basingstoke right as we spoke, balls deep in some junkie prostitute. So what I was about to do wasn’t any worse, was it? I mean, at least I wasn’t wasting our money. And at least Darren was clean. I mean, he looked clean. Now I’d got the better of him, I had even started to suspect he was a virgin – or at least pretty inexperienced. And it’s not like I was going to fuck him.

“W-what?” Darren stammered.

“Upstairs,” I ordered. “Now.”

He scurried off like a good little boy.

Which gave me a few leisurely minutes to drain the last of my wine and pay the bill.

As I strode to the lift on my high heels, I was feeling pretty damn good. Warm and buzzying from the wine. My pussy was tingling. I couldn’t believe I was about to do this, but I also couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of doing something like this earlier.

As the lift headed upstairs, I checked out my reflection in the mirror. My hair was in a tight bun, but drunkenness had let a couple of wifts of hair fall down around my face. My suit and skirt were sharp and official looking, but my big boobs and round bottom filled them out nicely. I looked hot, actually.

And that’s what all this was about, I guess. I wanted to feel hot. I wanted to feel like a gorgeous, sexy, desirable woman. My limp little Hubby, wanking away to his internet porn or possibly fucking some diseased prositite, hadn’t made me feel like that for weeks.

I was swaying a bit as I made my way down the corridor, but stood up straight as I pushed open the door to my bedroom.

It was dark. Darren had switched off the overhead light and just kept the bedside ones on. His clothes were in a messy pile on the floor. Darren himself was under the covers in the bed, duvet pulled up to his chin. He looked so meek and helpless, I felt almost motherly.

Although I didn’t sound it.

“Get the fuck out of my bed!” I yelled. “That’s not for you!”

Like a SHOT he was out from under the covers.

And that’s when I saw him naked for the first time. And it wasn’t an unpleasant sight.

Darren was very slim, with pale skin and that slightly lanky build of men in their early twenties who haven’t quite grown out of being teenagers yet. He had a tight little white bottom and a hairless chest. There was some gay looking tribal tattoo on his arm. That, along with his hairless chest and earring and highlighted hair, made him look very gay indeed.

Hanging between Darren’s legs was a fairly nice looking dick. It wasn’t hard – I’d probably got him too scared for that. But it was nice. He looked clean. There’s nothing worse than a young man who’s all stinky and sweaty and greasy when you get him out of his clothes.

I felt delicious. Here I was, with a pretty naked boy in my hotel room. Oh, Hubby, I thought to myself. If only you could see me know. There you go, boasting about wanting other men to fuck me. You fantasy was a hair’s breadth from coming true and you were too blind to see it.

Except, of course, I wasn’t going to fuck Darren. At least, not tonight.

Now if Darren had been nervous before, he was terrified now. There he was, naked as a jay, and I was just staring at him. The poor boy shivered and cupped his privates in his hands.

“You!” I eventually demanded, wondering exactly what it was I was going to do with this pretty plaything now I’d actually got it. “Still want to make it up to me?”

“Y-yes.”

Swaying slightly (either horniness or the wine) I grasped the hem of my skirt and started to wiggle it up over my hips.

Once the pinstripe was bundled up over my waist, I hooked by thumbs into my tights and started to pull them down. I had to kick off my high heels to do it, which spoilt the fantasy a bit, but a moment later I was standing there bare-legged with my pretty little French knickers stretched over my big, round bottom.

“On all fours,” I ordered. And Darren, bless him, hopped down onto his knees and shuffled forward.

I half sat, half fell into the chair in the corner and shuffled my bottom to the edge of the seat. Skirt up around my waist, thighs spread wide, Darren was crawling towards a perfectly unhindered view of my pantie-clad crotch.

Now if I’d known I was going to have some twenty-two year old boy snuffling around my pussy, I’d probably have got her waxed or shaved. As it was, Darren just had to put up with a couple of thick, brown hairs peeking around the corners of my knickers. Not that he seemed to mind.

In fact, as he crawled closer, I could see his cock swelling up quite impressively. Like a long, pale torpedo, it swung back and forth between his legs. I licked my lips.

Darren was on his knees in front of me now, breathing in the musky scent of my cunt. My clit was throbbing, even without being touched. The feel of his hot breath on my thighs was delicious.

“You know what to do,” I ordered, even though I wasn’t entirely sure he did.

His lips started kissing my thighs. His nose was snuffling against my pussy through the soft cotton of my panties. I half closed my eyes and drunkenly surrendered to the sensations.

Darren was clearly inexperienced, but he made up for it in enthusiasm. After slathering my thighs with spit and kisses, he started tugging down my knickers and I lifted my bum off the chair to help him remove them. Then his nose, lips and tongue went right to the ‘hot spot’ and he was literally devouring my pussy.

To be honest, I prefer to be teased a bit first. I almost jumped off my chair when Darren rammed an inch of tongue down my cunt without so much as a by-your-leave. But his enthusiasm was sexy. And the wetness, too! I get pretty wet normally, but Darren was slathering and slobbering down there and it sounded deliciously wet.

To further support my inexperience theory, Darren seemed to be licking, sucking or kissing every single inch of my pussy except my clit. For the briefest of moments, I felt a little disappointed. But then I realized that I was in charge of this situation and, besides, Darren would thank me if I taught him this. So I grabbed his ears and manhandled his head until his tongue was hitting the right spot.

And then?

I just threw my head back, spread my legs wider and enjoyed it.

It was the enthusiasm and energy that was so delicious. It was been over a month since I’d last been eaten out and by that stage in our relationship, Hubby was more or less just going through the motions. Lick, lick, lick. Suck here. Kiss there. Concentrate on the clit for one, two, three minutes until POW! I came in his mouth like an obedient little cunt.

But Darren didn’t know what the fuck he was doing and it made it deliciously unpredictable. My arousal would build and build and then plateau as Darren’s tongue found some other, less satisfying avenue to explore. Then he’d return to the sweet spot and up, up, up my arousal would go.

I was SO wet down there, I must have been making a wet spot on the upholstery. I didn’t mind, though. That’s what hotels are for. Besides, all those secretions and saliva made it deliciously easy for Darren to slid two fingers into my pussy and start pumping.

It was unsatisfactory – I prefer the fingers to stay fucking still, to make me feel full and tickle my g-spot. But the sensation was different.

I gasped and groaned. I popped the buttons of my blouse, squeezing my big breasts. And then, after painful seconds teetering on the brink of it, I came.

My orgasm was shattering. I squeezed Darren’s head between my thighs and didn’t let him breath again until my whole body had stopped bucking and shaking. Then, panting for breath, I kicked him away and felt the cold air conditioning on my wet thighs.

It felt blissful. I had two or three après-orgasm shudders and then just tingled in pleasure. Warm and relaxed and sleepy I wanted nothing more right then than to crawl into bed and go blissfully to sleep.

Sex Toys: They look delicious, but don't lick them...

God knows how the sex toy industry kept in business before the invention of the internet!

I mean, imagine having to go into one of those seedy sex shops to buy your jelly naughties? Or order them out of the back of some grotty wank mag?

Before the internet, buying sex toys was dirty, seedy and gross...

Now, in the world of Ann Summers, it's chic, hip and all women who appreciate pleasure are doing it. And if they're not? They should be!

It was the world of sex toys that Hubby and I recently explored when he ordered a box of them from Sexshop365. It's a VERY cool online sex toy shop with some great goodies and brilliant, quick delivery. I strongly recommend checking them out.

Now Hubby is as keen as hell on this whole slave/master relationship and he needs the toys to play the role properly. Hence his purchases online.

This is what he came up with...

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It started off with Flirt, a PVC outfit that leaves the crotch open and my boobies exposed.

.

Considering I have both my nips peirced, I can understand the latter incentive... The fact that my pussy and arse are both open for business when I'm wearing this industrial getup leads me to believe that Hubby's on the brink of going through with his whole 'fucking another guy' fantasy. Why else would he want my two hotspots exposed? At the same time?

.

.

Next on the list was something I loved the look of. A Rabbit Vibrator. Since I'm a girl who's only got a small, plastic friend, the thought of something like this to keep me entertained into the wee hours was as horny as hell.

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I mean, I'm a fan of Sex in the City, so I knew about the Rabbit. I'd just never seen one before. And damn they're cute. Like a little rubber lollipop! Apparently when they were first made in Japan, it was illegal to make sex toys that looked like... well, sex toys. So instead you got whirring rubber mushrooms and vibrating rabbits and it was all made out of strawberry flavour rubber.

.

It's like a sex toy aimed for little girls - but aren't we all little girls deep inside?

Last, but not least, was the dangerous looking toy.

Hubby had bought me an enormous rubber strap on.

It's pretty fucking big - as big as he is when he's at his hardest. What Hubby intends me to do with seven inches of rubber dick I dread to think. I'm his slave, so I imagine he's not planning for me to use it on him. I guess he has more nerfarious schemes in mind and I imagine they involve some poor orafice I can plunder with this thing.

I'll tell you what, though. A snug little harness holding a big, hard cock is a pretty empowering thing for a girl. It's so big and hard! The cock has an enormous head and a veiny shaft and even a big pair of balls. It's all made out of latex or rubber that is soft and firm all at the same time, like overripe fruit. I can't stop squeezing it!

I have finally figured out Freud's penis envy. I just want to FUCK something with it.

And trust me, I'll post pictures when I do. But until then, check out the brilliant Sexshop365 and buy some sexy goodies of your own - and let me know about them!

Gang Bang I think not...

Well, my first week as a slave comes to a close.

It’s had highlights… and it’s had the opposite of highlights. I’m not sure what they’re supposed to be. Lowlights? Doesn’t exactly sound right.

Anyway. The highlights have to be when everything worked out right. I was a slave, Hubby was my master and the relationship was clearly established.

The other night was the best. I’d said something bitchy to him and before I knew it, Hubby had tied my up with belts and dressing-gown cords and laid me out on the bed. For the next fifteen minutes he pounded hell out of my arse with a leather strap, sodomized me roughly with a vibrator and then coaxed me to orgasm with his thumb on my g-spot and his fingers tickling my clit.

As I lay there, kicking and struggling, I was in heaven. Seriously, I thought I’d melt like honey into the sheets.

Then there were the lowlights. Like when Hubby fed me one too many glasses of wine and I spent the evening berating him. Targeting the fact that Hubby doesn’t earn as much as me is the quickest route to deflating his erection you’ve ever seen.

But on the whole, it went well.

It’s been a learning curve. And I’ve learned.

I’ve learned that the most important thing is to give in. You see, I’m a fucking stubborn bitch. I love to fight and argue. But that’s entirely incompatible with being a slave. It was only when Master took it into his own hands and slapped the crap out of my arse that I shut up for once.

I need to do that more often. I need to just BE submissive. Instead, if I’m not quite in the right train of mind, I treat this like a game. I’m a total fucking bitch even though he’s got his thumb up my bum and is slapping my arse like it’s a bongo drum.

I’ve got to learn to be a slave and rule number one is SURRENDER.

Anyway. As the week comes to a close, I have to admit one thing turns me on. Hubby got me SO hot when he was talking about sharing me. I’ve decided now the hottest thing in the world would be if he got six of his well hung friends around to fuck the shit out of me. THEN I’d be submissive.

Submissive and probably fucked half to death… Oh, but a gang-bang. A great big gooey gangbang, with a bunch of men screwing me and cumming in me and covering me in sperm. Wow. I’ve flicked my bean thinking of that a couple of times since Hubby came up with the fantasy.

The problem is, Hubby doesn’t exactly have six well hung friends. He’s a bit of a geek and if you think he’s bad, you should see his friends. I don’t think being fucked silly by six skinny nerds high-fiving over Star Trek reruns has the same appeal.

But Hubby’s different. I wouldn’t have married him if he was a geek.

He’s pleasantly surprised me so far. The bondage and the whip was pretty hot stuff. Maybe, if getting me fucked by another guy is SO important to him, he’ll actually arrange it and do it RIGHT.

I can dream, can’t I?

Anyway. It’s Friday night and I have to get back to my slave duties.

Bondage

Now I like a little bondage.

Bondage is probably the most important part of my slave/master relationship.

Master ties me up. Not just because he's a kinky fucker who likes to do that sort of thing, but because if he ties me up I can't do anything about the stuff he does to me.

I am supposed to be a submissive little sex slut, but I have had problems adjusting to that rule. And tying me up seems to be an effective way of making me do the things I choose not to.

Hubby wants me to suck his cock, and I don't want to.

If he ties me up, I can't help it.

Hubby wants me to lick his balls...

If he ties me up, he forces me to.

Hubby wants to shove his cock up my ass.

And I buck, and kick, and scream, and curse... But if I've got my wrists ties behind my back, there's nothing I can do about it.

So bondage is not just a kinky little extra. It's kind of the important 'thing' that makes the rest of my slave training come together. If Hubby... I mean Master... can tie me up, he can do whatever the hell he wants to me. And, at the end of the day, that's what I promised I'd let him do.

So I have been sold on bondage. I am a stroppy, difficult, struggling cow, but I am sold that tying me up is the only way I'll learn and it's the only way I'll do what he wants.

But how he ties me up is a big issue.

Handcuffs hurt.

Handcuffs are nasty things and cause bruises on wrists and ankles. For a short period, it's fine. But on the long term, bondage with handcuffs is not compatible with being the beautiful, bruise free sex goddess I know I am.

Rope?

Now rope is sexy.

Silk rope is sexy and malleable. Next to soft, white, virginal skin, there's nothing sexier than rope. And rope, when you tie somebody up, is a teasing, taunting bond that gives just enough to promise escape... But is tough enough to keep you bound.

So when you're planning bondage, I'd recommend rope. It's certainly kept me where Hubby wants me... :-)

Giving Me Away

Master’s been pretty explicit in his fantasies the last few days.

Slavery wise, things are going great. Obedient as always, I pause outside the front door when I come home and slip on my collar (which I always keep in my handbag – caused a few raised eyebrows when it fell out while I was fumbling for some gum.)

At home, I leave my clothes neatly folded by the front door and spend the entire time naked.

Hubby… I mean Master… gets his dinner micro-waved for him every night and I obediently supply him with a blowjob or fuck before bed.

But this happy honeymoon period can’t last.

Because I’ve discovered what really turns Hubby on, and it’s got me all jittery. But in a good way. Like when you’re anticipating that first slap on your backside. There are butterflies in my stomach and my mouth goes all dry, but my pussy starts throbbing like it’s got a pulse.

It all started Sunday night, when I was on my knees obediently giving Hubby his early evening blowjob.

Now, before I got into slave mode, blowjobs were purely a Christmas and birthday thing. I guess that’s why Master’s been demanding them at least once a day since we started out little Master/Slave relationship.

And I’m getting pretty good at them. The secret is loads of spit. Seriously, so much saliva it dribbles down his balls.

Anyway. There I was, seven inches of throbbing man-meat obediently lodged in my mouth, one hand between my legs, rubbing my moist cunt to a second orgasm, the second hand cupping his balls and sliding my little finger up to the knuckle in Hubby’s arsehole.

That’s when he starts to get verbal.

“God, you look so sexy doing that…”

Cue an extra little slurp and another gush of moisture between my legs.

“God,” Hubby moaned, “I would love to see you sucking some other guy’s cock.”

And that was what caused problems.

There was a gush of moisture in my pussy – in fact I came, totally without warning… But did I just hear him right? He wants me to blow somebody else.

“Oh fuck, yeah,” Hubby’s eyes were closed. “I’d love to watch you give a hot, sloppy blowjob to some other guy. I’d like to pimp out your slutty mouth,” He thought I had a slutty mouth? Damn, my blowjob technique must have improved. “I’d like to watch you slurping on another massive dick.”

The submissive streak in me started to get really turned on. I did promise to be his sexual slave – a total slave. Did this mean I had to do whatever he asked? Even if it involved doing it to other people?

“You know what would really turn me on, though?” Hubby’s voice was ragged. “I’d like to watch you sucking me dick just as you are now, with your naked arse stuck out like that.”

Obediantly, I stuck my big rump up in the air like he’d demanded.

“I’d like to watch some other guy,” Hubby continued, “grab those cheeks of yours and spread your pussy wide.”

I strummed my clit even as I deep throated his cock. I think orgasm number three was on the cards.

“He’d have a massive dick,” my master rasped, “and he’d slid it inch by inch into your sopping pussy.”

Right now, with my arse stuck up in the air, I think I could have loved to have been fucked. Rubbing my clit was good… But I wanted to feeling of something big and hard and hot inside of me.

“I’d like to see you getting fucked from both ends,” Hubby continued. “I’d like to see him pound you so hard your butt jiggled.”

I wiggled my butt, just for his pleasure.

“Oh, yeah!” Hubby’s eyes lit up. “You’d do that! You’d grind that arse of yours on his big dick and make him cum.”

Hubby’s got throbbed.

“I’d like to see him spurt a huge load right inside of you,” he gasped. “I’d like to see you dripping with cum from both… both…”

Suddenly, he was grabbing my head in his hands.

“Oh fuck! You little slut!”

My mouth was flooded with cum.

I struggled to swallow it all as my own orgasm washed over me. I didn’t do a very good job. As it happened, most of his sperm poured out of my mouth and down my chin. It was a creamy flood!
*******

Some time later, I lay beside Master listening to his soft breathing.

I stared up at the ceiling and considered his little fantasy.

It’s not the first time he’d mentioned watching somebody else fuck me… But I suddenly realised that this little Master/Slave game could make those fantasies come true.

How did I feel about that? About the thought of getting fucked by a strange man. Maybe more than one… At the same time.

Yep, even as Hubby snored beside me, I rubbed out a forth orgasm.

The thing that did it for me was Hubby telling me about the guy cumming inside of me. That turned me on like you wouldn’t believe.

I’m not on the pill and Hubby gets to blow his load inside me maybe once a month, when I’m convinced I’m safe.

But being a slave wasn’t anything to do with being safe.

I was entrusting every decision to Hubby. Including who I fuck… And how they fuck me…

The thought of some stranger spurting cum inside me was almost enough to make me cum. The thought of getting more than one load inside my thirsty cunt.

Oh, God.

Still gasping, I fell right to sleep.

*******

And now I’m left with the post-coital reality of it.

Am I willing to actually go through with something like that, if Hubby ever gets his act together to arrange it?

Would I really let him give me to another man?

Did my submissiveness really mean I’d let some stranger blow his wad inside me?

On the face of it, there wasn’t a chance. At best, I’d wind up pregnant with a stranger’s baby. At worst, I could catch some disease.

But I figured I didn’t need to worry about it until it happened – and with my Hubby’s record – he couldn’t arrange a piss up in a brewery – I doubted it would ever happen.

But damn, could I get off imagining it!

Disciplinary Proceedings

The Master slave relationship has been going on less that 48 hours, but we already hit a small obstacle.

For the second night, I slept wearing the collar and woke up this morning warm, snug and happy. And immediately Hubby… sorry, Master… shook me awake.

“Today,” he told me, “you will spend the entire day naked.”

“Well, switch the fucking central heating on,” I told him. I was wearing a camisole and thong and I was freezing as it was.

But apparently, dear readers, a snappy comeback is conduct unbecoming of a slave.

“What did you just say?”

I think this was the first test of our Master/Slave relationship and Hubby… sorry, Master… would have blown the whole thing if he’d let me get away with it.

Maybe that’s why I was doing it. I’m a manipulative little bitch sometimes.

Anyway. He didn’t.

I’m proud of him. Master yanked back the covers and I felt the cold chill hit me. We really ought to stop being cheapskates and put the central heating on.

“Okay,” Master said, very firmly. “We better set some ground rules, Slave. From now on, you can keep your smart little asides to yourself, understood?”

I nodded.

“Get your arse out of bed and go and stand by the wall.”

Pouting I did as I was told.

“No,” he snapped. “Over there, by the window.”

I shuffled over to the window.

Master climbed out of bed himself and yanked back the curtains.

Now this I didn’t exactly like, because suddenly I was standing against the window with the entire town able to look in at me.

“Stick your bum out,” Hubby breathed in my ear.

I wiggled my arse, which looked pretty damn sexy in a thong. I jauntily stuck it out at him. And Slap!

His palm made contact against my right arse cheek and the fat jiggled painfully.

I must have leapt forward three inches, my big breasts pressing themselves against the icy glass.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Three times his hand stung my butt cheeks, landing two firm slaps on each buttock. I gripped the window sill, by boobs and cheek pressed against the glass.

“Right then,” Hubby… I mean Master… warned me. “Are you done with the witty jokes?”

I nodded.

“Get out of your clothes.”

“But the window…” I was painfully aware that Mrs Monroe, down in 23, was pottering about in her garden. Nosy old bitch.

Slap!

“Out of them! Now!”

My butt must have been glowing red by this point. Obedinatly I wiggled out of my thong and kicked it aside. I lifted my camisole and by big boobs swung free.

I stood naked by the window, shivering.

“Good,” the was a curiously detached hunger to Master’s voice. “Excellent.”

He kicked aside my ankles, spreading my legs. I moment later, I gasped as I felt his cold fingers reach between my thighs and touch my cunt.

So the rest of the me was fucking freezing, but the spanks and his authoritative voice had made me moist.

His fingers sunk inside me and I moaned, leaning forward until my tits were pressed against the glass again.

I heard the rustling of material as Master yanked down his boxer shorts. Then I felt something hard nose around the entrance to my pussy.

The horny little bastard must have got a hard on spanking me.

Without any foreplay, Hubby guided his knobhead to my moist pussy and pushed. There was a moment’s resistance, but then I opened up and he sunk deep inside of me.

It was rougher and quicker than I liked it, but the urgency was very sexy. I groaned, closing my eyes.

Pressed against the glass, my bum stuck out obscenely, Hubby then proceeded to fuck me, hard and fast.

Although my face was pressed against the glass, I could see Mrs Monroe peeking up at me from her back garden, watching the girl with the big boobs pressed against the glass, he Hubby grunting and thrusting from behind her.

Shocked, she scurried on inside.

Hubby was groaning deeply. His breath was ragged. I knew he was close to cumming, which disappointed me since I think I’d have only been a few minutes behind him.

“Don’t cum in me,” I warned. I’m not on the pill anymore and it’s about the right time of the month to get a neatly knocked up slave instead of just an obedient one.

Slap!

His hand impacted with my thigh. Hot tears spurted out of my eyes and rolled down my cheek.

His breath was hot in my ear: “What have I told you about giving me orders, Slave?”

His cock swelled up inside of me. If he could just hold out a moment or two longer, I was sure I’d be able to ride the coattails and get to cum too.

But, oh shit! I think he was going to cum in me!

I felt my orgasm flowing the wrong way, as the implication of getting knocked up by my Hubby hit me. Oh, sure, it was all fucking sexy while he was pounding the shit out of me with our neighbours watching. But I had a job. I was the breadwinner. I seriously wasn’t ready to get pregnant.

“Don’t,” I warned him. “Don’t cum in me!”

Slap! Slap! Two more stinging handprints on my bum.

He grabbed a big fistful of my hair and yanked my hair back. Then Hubby’s voice was loud in my ear, his rasping breath making my neck wet.

“If I want to cum in you, Slave,” he groaned, just seconds away from cumming, “I will do. And you’ll like it, okay?”

Oh God. My orgasm was back. Just one yank on my hair and my pussy gushed and my clit throbbed. And like that, his swollen dick was rubbing deliciously against my g-spot.

“Okay,” I groaned, just sinking into the moment. “Okay, just cum in me. Cum on me.” I closed my eyes. “Do whatever you want, Master.”

He groaned. He was cumming, I swear.

Just as my orgasm was about it hit, I felt Hubby slide his dick out of my dripping cunt and then scalding hot spurts of cum burnt my ass.

“Oh fuck,” he was groaning, wanking himself off over my bum. “Oh, Christ.”

I stood there, pressed against the glass. My cheek and boobs were icy cold. Hot globs of cum were like lava on my arse. My clit throbbed.

I lowered one hand and touched my clit and mercifully, I came.

My orgasm hit me and I shuddered and groaned just as Hubby was squeezing the last of his impressive load off over my buttocks.

We stood there gasping for a second.

God. I felt great. I hadn’t had an orgasm for weeks and that felt blissful. I was tingling. But already the hot cum was cooling, feeling sticky and uncomfortable on my bum.

“I’m going to get a towel,” I told Master.

“No,” he pressed me against the glass. “I told you I’d keep you naked all day,” he hissed, “and you’ll wear my cum all day too, understood?”

The whole thought grossed me out. But it made my tingling pussy throb.

“Now go downstairs,” Hubby hissed hotly into my ear, “and make me some breakfast.”

A Pimp by any other Name...

Well, this weekend started what Hubby has been calling ‘training.’
I slept in my collar for the first time last night and from the moment I woke up today, I was under strict orders to be in slave mode.

That in itself was fun – but Hubby and I did come across our first problem. What on earth did I call him?

‘Hubby’ is hardly a very authoritative term. His real name is even worse. For anonymity’s sake, I can’t tell you what Hubby’s Christian name is, but it’s firmly in the ‘Tim,’ ‘Toby’ and ‘Ronald’ mode.

Can you imagine? “Do me harder, Toby! I want to swallow your cum, Toby!”

We needed a name.

Hubby, nerd that he is (I’m taking a short break from wearing the collar, so I can be honest about hubby’s nerdity,) wanted to be called “The Man.”

Like, you know. “Who’s the man?”

And we’d just seen that film with Samuel L. Jackson and as much as I love my Hubby and am willing to submit myself sexually to him – he’s nowhere near cool enough to pull off “The Man.”

This whole collar thing wouldn’t last five minutes. I’d be sniggering so much I’d accidentally snort his cum out of my nose.

The second suggestion was “Pimp.”

And I know my Hubby loved that one. He just loved the idea of the pimp coat and hat and I’ve got a feeling the idea of “pimping me out” rates pretty highly on his list of fantasies. But it was all a bit too much like an episode of Scrubs for me.

Finally, along the lines of "Who's the Man," he came up with "Daddy."

Like, "Who's your Daddy?"

And this one went down like a lead balloon. I mean, if he's not "The Man," he's hardly qualified to be "The Daddy."

So when he demanded: "Who's your Daddy?" I yelled: "A little guy from Napoli."

Because my Dad's from Napoli. Just to clarify.

Anyway. Having ruled those three out, we eventually decided to just go with 'Master.'

He’s my master. I’m his little Kitty slave.

That seemed fair enough. It’s not exactly original, but until Hubby and I have tried this lifestyle for a bit, it’ll have to do.

Hubby has told me that he will be* changing his name down the line (most probably to Pimp, the geek,) but for the moment, I convinced him to stick with the more mundane.

* You can see he's got his 'Master' assertiveness going already!