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Subject: {ASSM} I Married a Sex Slave M/f BDSM cons
Date: Tue,  8 May 2001 23:10:07 -0400
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>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
WARNING!  This story is only for adults over the age of
18 and contains Strong Sexual Content.  It is intended
as a work of fiction for ADULTS only, and the author
does not in any way condone similar behavior.
If you are under the age or 18 or reside in a state,
nation, or planet that prohibits such behavior, stop
reading immediately!!!
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<


"I Married a Sex Slave"

By sfmaster@worldnet.att.net

Archiving permitted, reposting is permitted; but only
if you Include this statement of limitation of use and
notify the author by e-mail. The author forbids you to 
make,distribute, or sell multiple copies of this story 
on paper, disk, or other fixed format.
However, individual readers may make single copies of
the story for their own, non-commercial use.

Copyright (c) 2001 by sfmaster@worldnet.att.net

Attn: Readers please feel free to send e-mail to the
author.  I do want to hear from you!


"I Married a Sex Slave" by sfmaster@worldnet.att.net

Part One: The Confession

Dinner was already a pleasant memory, and the dishes
were drying in the rack.  I was looking to having a
nice evening alone with my wife Connie.  Perhaps some
TV or a movie on cable sounded pretty good just then.

"Honey?" Connie called from the kitchen, "could we sit
down and talk for a while?  Don't turn on the TV,
please?" she asked.

"Sure."

We had just celebrated our second wedding anniversary,
and something was wrong - I just couldn't put my finger
on it.

I sat down on the living room couch, and waited for
Connie, who soon appeared and joined me.  She appeared
to be a little nervous, and I wondered just what she
was going to say that was so important.

"Sam, this is going to be very difficult - and I don't
want you to interrupt, please.  I've got something very
hard to say about our relationship - and it's been
killing me for weeks now."

"Okay," I replied, "go ahead."

Connie was 32, five foot six, and very attractive.  She
had smallish breasts and a trim figure, and kept
herself in shape though diet and exercise.

"I want to apologize for my conduct in bed these last
few weeks.  I was unresponsive and just laid there
until you climaxed, then refused to cuddle afterwards."

"I just thought that you had something on your mind,
darling - and I'm sure once you've talked it out, it
will be all over as an issue."

"You're so sweet Sam - and I'm going to lay something
really heavy on you."

"An affair?" I asked.

"No - it's my past.  When we were dating, you never
asked me once what I had done before.  You said you
didn't want to pry, and it was none of your business. 
You didn't want to know - and be jealous - about any of
my former partners.  And I kept my mouth shut - maybe I
should have spoken up."

"Has a former boyfriend come back into your life?" I
asked.

"No - unless you count a ghost of one.  What I did with
Greg, one of my former boyfriends has come back to
haunt me."

"All right," I asked, "who's Greg?  Has he returned to
bother you?"

"Greg died in a traffic accident three years ago, just
before we started dating.  When we met, I was still sad
and in mourning, and you literally swept me off my feet
- and we married a year later."

"So what's the problem?" I asked.

"There's no easy way to put this, Sam.  I was Greg's
sex slave."

"Huh?" I answered dumbly.

"You know what sadomasochism is?" Connie asked.

"Sure."

"Well, I was involved in a S&M relationship for Greg
for almost three years.  I was his willing submissive. 
I was spanked, cropped, whipped, placed in bondage -
you name it.  And I enjoyed it all."

I sat there on the couch, speechless.

"When we married, I locked away all of Greg's toys in
my office closet.  You were never curious about them,
were you?"

"The closet was your space, I didn't want to intrude."

"I thought that by locking them away in the closet I
could close off that period in my life.  But when I had
the flu and had to stay home, I was bored silly.  So
two months ago I opened the closet - and all of those
desires came back in a rush.  Like they had been
pent-up for years."

"I don't know what to say," I answered stupidly, in
shock.

"Come, let's go my office.  I'll show you my former
sexual life."

I followed her upstairs to her office.  We had bought a
three-bedroom house, and one bedroom had been converted
into Connie's office.  She had her desk, computer,
filing cabinet, and an extra chair in the room.

"Have a seat, honey, please," Connie implored.

I sat in the extra chair and waited.  She opened the
closet door.  Inside were two large chests, and a
garment bag.  I had never thought to open them, ever,
as I had respected her privacy.

Connie unzipped the garment bag first, and removed
something shiny on a hanger.

"This is my PVC Catsuit," she began, "zipped into it, I
look all shiny and powerfully sexy.  Even more so when
I'm perched on high heels, or wearing thigh-high boots
- which I'll show you in a moment."

"Here's my PVC bodysuit - looks good wearing sheer to
waist pantyhose, also with boots.  My PVC straitjacket
- for those days when Greg would restrain me for
hours.  My maid's outfit also in PVC  - he would order
me to wear it and clean his house, and when I was
finished, I would get a spanking or more."

"Why just PVC?" I questioned, "aren't you supposed to
like leather & rubber also?"

"Leather garments can be very expensive and usually
they're custom made.  Rubber is expensive, and hard to
care for and can tear.  Good for fashion shoots in the
fetish mags, but a pain in real life.  PVC is
inexpensive compared to the other two, is easy to care
for - I usually wash these in the sink with Woolite -
and is a good compromise."

"Oh."

"Greg was quite smart.  He didn't want me to buy this
stuff tight, so if I gained a few pounds it would be
useless.  In the last year I managed to put on some
weight - middle age, I guess - so I can still fit into
all my fetish gear."

Connie replaced the things in the clothing bag, then
dragged out one of the chests. She opened it, and
handed me a pair of very high heels - which had
padlocks on the straps!

"You won't find those in Nine West, Sam.  Here's two
pair of boots with five-inch heels, one knee-high, and
the other thigh-high.  Perfect for a night out on the
town," Connie observed.

She dragged out the other chest, then opened it.  It
was huge.

"Here's some bondage videotapes.  Most of them are
pretty silly, actually.  I was watching them when I was
recovering from the flu - that's what brought all this
back."

"Yeah."

"My book collection, starting with Story of O.  I've
got some Masquerade titles, Blue Moon, Silver Moon, and
Black Lace.  Plus some picture magazines from HOM of
women in bondage.  Not a bad little collection,
really."

Connie handed me a few paperbacks - from their titles
and cover description I didn't have to guess too hard
about the contents.

"Finally, my bondage toys.  Here's a ball-gag trainer,
bracelets, dildo harness, and butt plug.  I also have a
riding crop, flogger, and whip."

"Wow," I said dumbly, "that's quite a selection."

"Thank you," she said, seating herself in her office
chair, facing me.

"What do you want then?" I asked.

"I want you to become my Master, Sam.  Please?" she
implored. 

"Pass that by me, again, please?" I replied.

"I want you to be my Master - with a capital M - in a
D/s relationship," Connie answered.

"D/s?" I asked, "what does that mean?"

"I keep on forgetting that you don't know the language
- D/s mean Dominance and submission.  Basically, I want
you to dominate me - and I've got a very nice toy
selection already bought that you can use."

"You're a pervert," I criticized.

"You know, I always hated that word.  Anything other
than vanilla sex, and you become a pervert."

"Vanilla sex?  Does that go with ice cream?"

"No, but it does mean bland, uniform, missionary
position sex.  I've been exposed to something a little
different - and now I've discovered that I just have to
have it again."

"Isn't our lovemaking good enough?  Aren't I a good
lover?" I plead.

"Honey, you're a kind, considerate, great man to have
in bed.  You always make sure to make me come and leave
me satisfied afterwards.  But in addition to that I
want a little more out of sex."

I picked up the riding crop from the chest and flexed
it with my hands, feeling the leather surface and
square tip.

"Greg really used this on you?" I asked.

"Sure, lots of times."

"You say that with such a straight face - I feel like
Candid Camera is going to pop up and say that this was
all a joke - isn't it?"

"No darling, it isn't a joke.  My D/s relationship with
Greg was deadly serious."

"Then just what did you two do together?"

"All sorts of things," Connie answered, "I would
misbehave in public or privately, and get spanked or
cropped.  Sometimes I'd dress as a Maid, and break a
glass, and get punished.  I'd wear my collar and
bracelets, and have to do the housework totally naked."

"And this turned you on?" I replied, "getting beaten on
a regular basis?"

"There's a big difference between getting beaten up
with serious injuries and landing in hospital emergency
room, and being in a D/s scene and having nothing more
than a few whip marks and a warmed bottom to show for
it," Connie answered.

"Whip marks?  Warmed bottom?  This is easily the most
fantastic conversation I've ever had - I feel like I'm
talking to Alice in Wonderland.  Or is it the Mad
Hatter?"

"Honey, I can guess how you must feel just now," Connie
began.

"To know that I'm married to a sex pervert?" I
answered.

"But I was Greg's submissive for three years - and I
enjoyed it.  The weekends just didn't come fast enough
for me to get back into being a slave.  I loved wearing
his collar, and being gagged while he flogged me gave
me the best orgasms ever.  Until, that is, he took me
to bed afterwards, and I had the most screaming
climaxes in the world."

"And you want me to do that you?" I asked.

"Yes," she answered.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously," she replied.

"You're not kidding, are you?"

"No.  A long time ago, Greg took me to an S&M group in
the city.  I met a woman there who told me that
submission was part of her life - that she had been
ruined by her exposure to a Master - and that she was
never satisfied with ordinary sex again.  Now I know
just what she meant.  So, dear husband, will you
satisfy your wife's sexual desires and be my Master as
well?"

Connie then rose from her chair and knelt in front of
me.  In her hands were the riding crop, gag, and a pair
of gleaming stainless steel handcuffs.

"Please?" she asked, "Master?"

"I'm probably going to regret this, but yes, I'll be
your Master.  Even if I don't know what the hell I'm
doing," I answered.

"No problem, Master.  I'll teach you everything that
you need to know.  You'll be both a great husband and
Master in no time!"

Part Two: I Go to School

Connie was right - I didn't know anything!  About all I
knew about S&M previously was that there were women
called Dominatrixes; and that there were S&M sex shops
in the city.

The next few weeks became a whirlwind of the weirdest
education in my life.  Every night, after dinner &
dessert, we watched a movie together.  Connie had
certainly accumulated quite a collection of S&M films! 
We would watch them together, and she would provide the
commentary and observations.

Books!  She started me with "Story of O" - and then I
read one novel after another.  There was plenty of
non-fiction as well - everything you ever wanted to
know about S&M but were afraid to ask.

Afterwards, we discussed what I had learned.

"This is something else," I observed, "you were really
involved in this for years?  Just how did you get
started anyway?"

"Greg and I met on a blind date from a mutual friend. 
One night, after I behaved badly, he pulled me over his
knee and pulled my panties off and gave me a spanking. 
I was just so wet and horny afterwards - I wanted
more.  He was already in the scene."

"I just can't believe that you like getting beaten with
a riding crop," I told her.

"First you'll be using a pillow, before you use one on
me," Connie answered.

I spent the next few days whacking away at a pillow
with first my hand, then the crop, and whip.  Connie
stood by, watching and explaining just what I had to
do.

I thrust my hard cock into Connie's wet waiting sex. 
It had been 2 weeks since she had approached me with
her proposal, and our lovemaking had dramatically
improved.  Connie seemed much more animated, far more
interested than before.  Our sweating bodies
intertwined, I grunted and she moaned with pleasure as
my shaft impaled her cunt.  I enjoyed the smell of her
perfume and sweat mixed together to make a heady musk
that drove me to new heights of passion.

"Aaaah!"

"Ooooh!"

I suppose that the sounds made in the bedroom and
pillow talk are probably the least intelligent things
people ever say.

"I'm coming!" Connie cried.

Like a piston, I thrust into Connie, and we began to
shake with orgasm at exactly the same time.  Connie
matched me thrust for thrust as I drove her to orgasm.

Afterwards, we lay together, gasping.

"You were very good tonight, Sam."

"You too."

I lay on my back, and Connie lay on my shoulder, her
hands playing with my cock.  She had never showed any
inclination to touch my cock before.

"What's going on?" I asked, "you never wanted to play
with Mr. Happy before?"

"Mr. Happy?" Connie answered, "surely you can come up
with something a little more original than that?"

"I guess so.  You still haven't answered my question,
though."

"You have complete freedom of my body," Connie
answered, "that includes my mouth and my bottom.  Or as
the novels like to say, the use of all of my holes."

"That doesn't sound very romantic - hey!"

Connie had gotten up from my shoulder, and had began to
suck on my cock - which she had never done in all the
years we had known each other.

I lay back, wondering what was next.  She had gotten me
hard again, but not to climax.  With her left hand she
opened the night table, and removed a jar of lubricant!

"Take my bottom, please!" Connie begged.

She knelt on the bed, doggie-style.  I got up, opened
the jar, and massaged some lube into her pink bottom. 
My aroused cock quivered with anticipation.

"This will be tight," Connie advised, "so go slowly!"

Imitating what I had seen in the films, I slowly placed
my cock into Connie's bottom hole.  Well lubricated, I
gently began to thrust deeper insider her, while
holding onto her hips with my hands.  Keeping erect
against her tightness was an effort, but I gradually
got inside her bottom.  All of a sudden, I was
through!  Her anal muscles opened to admit me, and I
began to piston my shaft inside her ass.  I had never
fucked a woman's ass before, and it was a new
experience for me!

Nor had I ever done it doggie style with Connie
before.  Connie as wife was one person - Connie as sex
slave was someone else.

I placed all my concentration in staying erect as long
as I possibly could.  Connie moaned as I shafted her -
was it pleasure or pain?  I watched her breasts bounce
with every thrust, saw the beads of sweat trickle down
her naked body.

Finally, it was too much.  I grunted, and came in her
bottom.  She moaned as the hot jets of my come spurted
inside her.  I then pulled out of her, sweating
profusely.

"Wow!" I commented.

"Not bad for a first attempt, Master," said Connie as
she slumped onto the bed.  I watched as my come leaked
from her asshole.

"Did I hurt you, Connie?" I asked.

"No, Master.  You have used all of holes in one
evening."

"Connie, why did you suck my cock - you never did so
before?"

"It's a great honor for a Master to bestow his seed
inside whatever orifice he desires - I just wanted you
to learn this night that you have the use of all of
mine."

"Tell me, Connie, when do we do our actual first
scene?" I questioned.

"You'll know when, Sam.  That's when I cease to be just
your wife - and become your slave."

Part Three: First Scene

Over the next few days I made a few home improvements,
all at Connie's behest.  

In the bedroom, I installed a ringbolt at ground level
to the wall.  I didn't have to be told that was when
Connie would be spending the night on the floor,
chained by a collar.

The basement den had a bar and was used for
entertaining.  Plus two wonderful pillars that would
now finally have a use - but far more than just
supporting the floor above!  I placed rings on them -
no doubt in my mind that I would be hanging Connie by
her wrists, or spread-eagled between them.  I would be
doing some quite different entertaining down here
shortly!

Connie was a great housekeeper.  She had told me that
her alcoholic mother had let her kids grow up in filth
- so she naturally kept the house very clean.

The weekend had started normally.  I didn't think that
there was anything going on.  Connie cooked a wonderful
dinner, and we went out to a movie, and stayed out late
for drinks.  On Saturday morning, she cooked breakfast,
and placed the dishes in the sink.  I didn't realize
that anything was going on until after Dinner on
Saturday night, when the sink was overflowing with
dishes from fully four meals.  This from a woman who
disliked even a single dish left in the sink.

"Honey, don't you think..." I called to Connie from the
kitchen.

I had almost turned the taps on the sink to do the
dishes myself, when suddenly the light bulb went off
above my head.  Connie had just given me a reason for a
session.  It was the moment of truth!  For the past 3
weeks, she had been educating me about our new roles. 
Now, finally, it was time.

Ever watch a cartoon when an angel and a devil appear
on a character's shoulders?  Each one is arguing their
respective positions, for good or evil?  That was the
way I felt at that exact moment.

I could both do the dishes and join my wife quietly in
the den.  Or I could do what she wanted me to do -
punish her for making a mess.  I had never felt so
nervous before - proposing marriage had been easier
than this!

I walked into the den, and Connie was seated at the
couch, reading a copy of Vogue, her favorite fashion
magazine.

"Connie, why didn't you do the dishes?" I asked.

"Because I'd rather read just now, I don't want to
clean up."

"But it's such a mess, dear - disgusting!"  I
exaggerated a little!

"Screw the dishes, I'm busy!" said Connie.

"That's enough, slave!" I said as I seated myself on
the couch, "you had better get across my knee now -
understand!"

Connie folded the magazine, and draped herself over my
lap.  I wondered why she had been wearing a skirt today
- even more surprised to find that she wasn't wearing
any panties underneath.

"What is your safeword, slut?" I demanded.

"Sinful, Master."

"Remember it well," I advised.

Smack!

My first whack at Connie's bottom was quite mild, and
barely audible.  But the effect it had on me was
electric - here was Connie, my wife and love, draped
across my lap - eager and willing for me to punish her.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

I watched as my hand impacted on one of her buttocks,
and then the other, each time leaving red marks
behind.  Connie moaned slightly with each spank, and I
held her in place.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

I could feel her bottom warm as I punished her skin,
and I felt like the man in the spanking films that I
had seen.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

I had thought to ask Connie if she had had enough -
when I realized just how silly that might have
sounded.  She had told me that she had been beaten
regularly with a riding crop - and I was worried that
my first time with her was going to hurt!

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

I reached my hand between her legs to Connie's sex, and
found her dripping wet with arousal!

"Slut!" I told her.

"Yes, Master."

"Kneel and thank me for your punishment, slave!"

Connie did as she was told, and was soon kneeling at my
feet.  It wasn't until she was off my lap that I
realized that I had an immense hard-on in my jeans. 
Her spanking had turned us both on!

"Thank you, Master," said Connie.

"I want you to properly thank me - without making me
come," I ordered.

I unzipped my jeans and my erect cock sprang out, the
head purple and the veins sticking out.  Connie placed
her head between my thighs, and opened her mouth to
admit my cock.  There was nothing so sexual as seeing
my wife suck at my shaft, taking it deep within her
throat.

I felt like I was going to burst, but managed to
control myself from coming in her mouth.  The night was
young - and we were just getting started!

Gradually, even though she was sucking me off, my
erection declined.  Even as the tip of her tongue
circled the glans of my cock.

"Very good slave - you shall bear my seed later."

"Thank you, Master," Connie answered.

"But now I want you to dress in your Maid's uniform -
without bra or panties, just stockings and a garter
belt.  I want you to bring that pair of heels you're so
proud of - the one with the locking ankle straps."

"Yes, Master!"

"And if you're slow - there will be a punishment!"

"Yes, Master!

Connie bowed and ran off up the stairs.  I hoped that
she knew how to walk in high heels on carpeted floors!

When she returned, Connie was dressed in her Maid's
uniform, which I had to admit was very attractive.  She
also had on a pair of black stockings as well, and was
carrying the heels in her hands.  I rose from the
couch, and lifted her skirt - underneath was her
exposed wet sex.

"I see that you have followed my orders."

"Yes, Master."

"Hand me the shoes, I'm going to lock them on you
myself."

Every spring, Connie enjoyed going out shopping for
shoes.  She loved to wear shoes with the briefest of
straps, or backless mules, and slingbacks.  She had
very pretty well formed feet, and she desired to show
them off.

While seated on the couch, I placed a wooden chair in
front of me.  Connie held onto the chair as a placed
the right heel on her foot, then padlocked the strap
around her ankle.  Next came the left foot, and she
stood shakily on her perch.

"I want you to do the dishes and clean up the mess
you've made - and afterwards there will be a further
punishment downstairs in the den."

"Yes, Sir!" Connie answered.

I heard the sounds of running water from the kitchen
(we didn't own a dishwasher); and contemplated my next
move.  I leafed through a bondage magazine that Connie
had left on the coffee table.

Could I really use something stronger on my wife? 
Spanking was one thing, but I felt that using a riding
crop or whip - well that was something else entirely. 
I had sat there in front of the TV watching hours of
porn films with Connie - all of women getting the
business end of crops and whips.  Connie apparently
didn't find any of the movies wrong or disturbing - in
fact I guess that she was aroused by seeing that her
nipples had hardened under her shirt.

"The dishes are finished, Sir," Connie announced while
standing in front of me.

"Excellent - I want you to go downstairs to the
playroom and choose your instrument of chastisement -
you shall select your own punishment this evening," I
answered.

"Yes, Sir!" she answered.

Reading all of that porn and non-fiction had been a
real education for me.  Connie had been right - before
I know nothing of the language - but I certainly knew a
lot more now!

We had placed all of the toys in the playroom in
anticipation of this night - which was finally taking
place.  The night I would discipline my wife, and
slave!

I rose from the couch, and walked down to the den. 
Connie was kneeling on the floor, still in her uniform
and heels.  On the coffee table in front of her was a
satin pillow - and resting on it was the riding crop!

"Have you made your choice?" I asked.

"Yes, Master - please use the crop?" she answered.

If someone had told me three months ago that my wife
would be asking me to use a riding crop on her, I would
have punched him or her out silly.  Instead here I was,
about to cover my wife in red marks!

"Here is the key to your shoes - I want you totally
naked, and then you can place the bracelets on your
wrists and ankles."

I sat down on the couch, and watched as my wife removed
the high heels, and then her Maid's uniform, garter
belt and stockings.  On the coffee table were the
instruments of her bondage - wrist and ankle bracelets
that I would use to confine her into whatever bondage
position I chose.  Connie, obviously with long
practice, proceeded to lock herself into each one. 
Finally, she knelt, and placed her hands on her knees,
her legs open to expose her sex.

I stood up, and locked the matching collar around her
neck.  Her bondage ordeal was about to begin!

"Stand between the columns, I want to chain you there,"
I ordered.

"Yes, Master."

Connie rose to her feet, then stood between the
columns.  I walked over and locked her bracelets to the
chains, pulling her legs and hands apart.  Soon, she
stood straining, her limbs pulled by the chains. There
was no slack, nor could she escape.  She was totally
helpless to my will!

I removed the crop from the pillow, and flexed it in my
hands.  What a nasty little device!

"Kiss the crop, Connie," I ordered.

"Yes, Master!" she answered.

"What is your safeword?"

"Sinful."

Until just a few days ago, I had no idea what a
safeword was - now I knew that it meant that a
submissive couldn't take any more punishment, and was a
plea for mercy.

"Aaaaah!" Connie cried what I struck her for the first
time.

"Aaaah!

"Aaaah!"

"Aaaah!"

Each stroke of the crop on her naked skin left a small
red mark behind.  In books, I had learned what places I
could strike - and those I couldn't - like the
kidneys.  I had literally memorized every picture and
diagram, and I was going to be the most careful Master
that I could!

"Aaaaah!"

"Aaaaah!"

"Aaaaah!"

I applied stroke after stroke on Connie's skin, leaving
a steady path of marks behind.  I tried to avoid
hitting the same area twice in a row - all of that
pillow practice had been a good idea!

I then stopped, and placed my hand between Connie's
strained thighs, feeling her sex.  She was wet!  Far
wetter than when we had made love.  I pushed two of my
fingers into her sex, and finger fucked her.  She
moaned in ecstasy, and I watched as droplets of sweat
ran down her breasts and flanks.

"Wanton slut," I commented, "do you prefer your
Master's crop or his shaft?"

"Both, Master.   Mmmmmmph," she moaned as I removed my
fingers from her slit, then placed them inside her
mouth.

"Clean my fingers of your own juices, slut," I ordered.

She willingly complied, tonguing my fingers clean of
her own female secretions.

"Now we continue."

I next began by using the crop on the outside of her
thighs, but when I began to strike her between her
legs; Connie really became quite agitated.

"Aaaaah!

"Aaaaah!  That hurts."

 "Aaaah!"

"Ooooh!"

"Ooooh!"

"Ouch!"

"Ouch!"

"That hurts!"

At no time did she use her safeword - I would have
dropped the crop and rushed to her aid.  Instead she
absorbed every blow, and appeared not to mind even when
I struck her harder.  I watched as she finally climaxed
in her bonds, the crop driving her to one orgasm after
another, the sweat pouring off of her naked body,
reflecting in the lights.

"You came without permission, slave - now I'll use the
flogger!"

We had hung some of her toys on the wall, like a
dungeon we have seen in a tape.  When we had guests in
the future, we would have to remember to remove them -
or have some embarrassing questions.

I exchanged the crop for the flogger, and proceeded to
deliver several harsh and stinging blows that left
Connie and me gasping - just how much could my naked
wife really handle of this?  Women aren't supposed to
be naked, in chains, and flogged!

"Kiss the flogger, slave!" I ordered.

"Yes, Sir," she panted in response.

After she had complied, I released her - she was a
little weak from her ordeal.  I then discovered that I
had a raging hard-on, my cock was as strong as steel.

I laid Connie on the carpeted floor and took her there,
in all of her orifices. She was like a sexual dynamo,
and came time after time.  After first fucking her cunt
and driving her to one orgasm after another, I then
placed my cock in her mouth.  She sucked me back to
hardness, and then I took her bottom twice.

We then walked back to our bedroom, and fell asleep
immediately.  We were both exhausted.

I was awakened Sunday morning by the sound of birds
outside the open window.  I thought that the previous
night had been a dream - until I saw that Connie was
still wearing her collar and wrist bracelets!

She opened her eyes and looked at me.

"Is this what you wanted?" I asked, "debasing my wife?"

"Sam - Master; I wasn't debased - I was a willing
participant."

"More than a participant - I would never have thought
to do anything like this with you - had you not asked. 
And taught me!"

"You were very good, Master.  You knew how to make me
moan and cry, and make me come from the pain - which I
haven't had the chance to enjoy in a long time."

"Will you want to do this again?" I asked.

"At least once a week," Connie answered, "depending on
my Master's pleasure - remember you can use me any time
that you want, in whatever way that you want."

Who, I wondered, controlled whom?  I may have held the
whip and placed Connie in chains.  But it was she that
had bought them, and trained me in their use. 
Afterwards, we had a happy, though strange, marriage.

But that's another story!

				THE END

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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