How I've Spent the Last Six Months Part Eight

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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.

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... :-)

Collared!

My husband bought me a collar for Valentine’s day.

I know, it’s not exactly a gold ring or a diamond necklace. But it’s something we’d been discussing for a long time now and actually it was the sweetest present. Not the collar itself – although that’s damn cute, to be honest. It’s a little pink doggy one with little silver bones on it.

No, it’s what the collar meant.

A few weeks ago, our marriage almost hit the rocks. It had been rocky for a long time. This is because Hubby is a complete pussy and I’m a total bitch. He’s a lovely guy. He’s kind and loving and considerate. But people walk all over him. On the other hand, I’m a bossy bitch. People demand results from me. I have to get my team at work to hustle their arses and I do that by being tough on them.

The problem is, this behaviour follows me back from the office and it’s how I act at home. And it’s miserable for both Hubby and me.

I was yelling at him for everything. Not having dinner ready for me. Paying too much for the weekly shop. Getting bills wrong. It was that especially which pissed me off. If he left me to sort out bills or paperwork, I would fly off the handle at him. I was responsible for all this shit all day! Why did I have to be responsible for it at home as well?

I wanted to come home from work and just not have to be responsible for anything. I wanted him to be in charge. I just wanted to be told what to do. I just wanted to surrender all those responsibilities.

Our marriage was in trouble, but one aspect that had always been good was our sex life. Hubby was always eager and horny and while he was a complete pushover at home, in bed he tended to be aggressive and dominant and that was the Hubby I loved.

I just loved him to heft me about with his muscular body and bend me into any way he wanted. About the only time I felt truly safe and comfortable in our marriage was when he had my face buried in the pillow and was fucking me hard and fast.

I wanted that feeling all the time.

A few weeks back, we had the most enormous argument. He’d spent the last year and a half being the loving, obedient husband and when I raised my voice one time too often, he blew up at me.

He yelled at me. He told me to stop being such a spoilt, stuck up little bitch. And when I tried to slap him, he grabbed my wrist and spun me around.

Now I swear, I ought to nail the bastard for wife beating, but Hubby put me over his knee, ripped my trousers down and gave me the kind of spanking I haven’t got since I was a little girl.

I swear. Slap! Slap! Slap! My arse was bright red by the time I finished.

And the weirdest thing? I totally melted.

From the moment he had me over his knee, I stopped struggling. I normally treated Hubby like shit. He was always so eager to please and did everything I asked (or demanded.)

To suddenly have him dominate me like that – to just throw me over his knee and spank seven shades of shit of out me – made me moist like you wouldn’t believe.

Now I’m not condoning what he did. I think guys who hit women are scum. But the fact is, hubby didn’t hit me. He just spanked me, like a naughty little girl.

I got so turned on by the fact that he was strong enough to subjugate me to his will. For the first time in the last five years, I actually felt powerless. And it felt wonderful.

I literally melted in his lap.

When Hubby was done spanking me, I slid off his lap onto the carpet and I swear, my arse was so hot you could have fried eggs on it. I had tears rolling down my face and the bastard had ruined my makeup. But I shut up.

For the first time in the last three years, I shut up.

I just sat there and sniffled. And Hubby was like a changed man. Instead of being so eager to please, like a little puppy, he looked tough and powerful.

I realised then and there that I wanted him to be in charge. I wanted him to dominate me, just like I dominated the girls in the office all day long.

I wanted to come home and switch off. Basically be his slave. God, that was such a turn on for me, the thought of being him submissive little slave.

And of course, Hubby wasn’t arguing with this suggestion. When I told him what I wanted (it was a couple of days later, when I’d worked up the courage) he was so turned on by it he yanked my skirt up and practically raped me on the carpet (and although I struggled, I loved it.)

But the problem was, I couldn’t do it. I found a real problem switching into submissive mode when I came home from the office each day.

When I went to work that morning, I’d be full of good intentions. But by the time I’d come home, I’d be tired and pissed off and just wanted dinner and a glass of wine. Or I’d find out he’d forgotten to do the car tax and get pissed off that there was more responsibility I was left in charge of.

It was better. I was submissive some of the time. But as soon as something went wrong, or I broke the mood, I was back in bitch mode.

It didn’t look like it was ever going to work, until Hubby, being the academic sort he is, told me about Pavlov’s dog.

Pavlov’s dog was trained to water at the mouth when a bell rang. It’s a conditioned response or something. And Hubby suggested we could do the same thing with me.

It was based around the collar.

He was going to buy me a collar. I’d take it to work with me in my handbag.

I could be my normal self at work – the super bitch. But before I opened the front door to step back home, I had to open my handbag, take out the collar and put it one.

And as long as I wore the collar, I was his slave.

It seemed like a really great idea, because before I couldn’t establish the different roles and kept turning into super-bitch when I was meant to be a slave. So with a collar, it was like a constant reminder that I was in slave mode.

It was a sexy idea and I was excited when I opened my Valentine’s Day present to find that cute little collar in there.

The question is, will it work?