Transformation of Mr Price ndash Chapter 4
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The Price For Being A Bitch -- Chapter 2 free porn video
I awoke the next day with a combination of dread and hope for my future. It wasn't going to be easy to undo all the damage I had done. I started by reviewing videos where I interacted with my husband, starting with our wedding video and including the sex videos where I used a strapon in his ass and where he made the one attempt at anal sex that I had allowed him as a result. I did not like what I saw of my behavior with the new eyes he had given me. The word harpy came to mind.
I logged into my erotic lit website and told one of my female chat friends what I was thinking of doing. She was a domme and her advice was, "Don't do it. Don't humiliate yourself like that. If he's interested in an equal relationship, it would be hypocrisy for him to want that. Wouldn't it?"
"Not if you understand him as I have come to, Darling. We all crave justice and that's what this would be. You understand that all people, but especially women, are interested in receiving gestures that we like, right? And you've probably heard that even negative attention can, for some people, be better than no attention at all? Well Charles isn't like that.
Imagine if, every time that you gave a positive gesture to someone you love, you received a negative reward for doing it. Would that not bother you? Might it not cause you to stop giving positive gestures to that person? For Charles, I've been that person. Every time he gave me a positive gesture, like complimenting my appearance or buying me a gift or the biggie -- initiating a sexual encounter with me, he got what he perceived as a rebuke or a rejection or some other negative response. I was never satisfied. I sometimes thought I was complimenting him and encouraging him to send more positiveness my way, but there's a reason that there's a mythical female demon called a succubus. We can suck the goodwill right out of a man. Hearing things like 'Thank you. You should do that more often.' or 'That was very nice but it would have been so much nicer if only...' is not rewarding."
"I can see your point, but if he married you even though you did that..."
"But I didn't! I didn't do these things to try to change how he acted toward me until after the honeymoon was over and we settled into a more routine life. When the newness wore off, instead of appreciating that I received any positive strokes, I kept letting him know that he wasn't living up to my expectations. I didn't think that could backfire and lower his opinion of me, because I thought good men, if properly directed, would learn how to please their women. Submissive men might, but not men who expect positive or neutral rewards for positive behavior. Not men who see marriage as a partnership of equals. And aren't those good men? I think they can be. So now, in the name of justice, I must reward him for all the years of just tolerating my bitchiness. Then I must show him that it is safe and beneficial to stay with me and maybe eventually, to try to please me. That can only happen if I can learn to deserve or earn better than he's giving me."
I don't think I convinced her, but she's a domme. She thinks only submissive men can care whether they are pleasing their lovers and that Charles could not be a man who did not express a dominant nature out of principle. If that was the case, my plan would not work. But I had to try. Surprisingly, it was not that hard to find women willing to help me.
My spirits perked up when my cell phone beeped. I got a terse text message from Charles, "im ok u?". That simple display of concern rose my spirits to unbelievable heights. It was the first indication that he might want some sort of relationship with me even if I couldn't become the kind of partner he wanted. I replied with, "feeling very contrite and preparing to take my medicine". He knew that by medicine I meant punishment.
We continued with daily texts as I made arrangements and thought about what I would say to him when we met. It was difficult, but I waited until the evening of the 6th day before sending a text that said, "Wanna meet somewhere tomorrow?"
The minutes it took before he replied felt like years, but I rejoiced when the words "Where when?" showed on my screen.
I replied with "Dinner, Bennigan's, 8:00?". We had first met for a blind date at a Bennigan's in a different city far away and long ago, but I'm sure my choice had a "let's start over" message that he would pick up on.
"Good. A very hope filled choice." For him to text a message that big was astounding to me. My heart soared.
The next day, I dressed to impress, as if I was going on a first date. When I met him outside the restaurant, I was surprised to see him wearing clothes that he hadn't taken with him. He must have sneaked in to get them while I was at work without disturbing anything I would notice. He was dressed almost identically to when I had met him. I was very touched by his gesture and I was glad that he seemed happy to see me. Putting my new understanding to work, I said, "I am so glad you agreed to see me and dressed so appropriately." He looked like he was waiting for the negative shoe to drop and when it didn't, he gave me a very comforting hug that melted me and caused a stir in my black lace panties.
He was being very quiet during dinner and it was clear that he was waiting for me to stick my neck out. I knew that I had a good offer for him, so I was content to wait. After dinner, I invited him to follow my car to a place where we could have a frank conversation in public. He was clearly intrigued and agreed. We drove a short distance and parked at a hotel where we had occasionally gone for drinks because we liked the piano bar. We got a booth and ordered drinks. After I took the first soothing sip of my strawberry daquiri, I took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. "I deserve to be humiliated and..." I almost lost my nerve as I gazed into his face and saw a look of delighted surprise, "...and I'm looking forward to it."
I could tell that he wanted to say something, but I quickly interrupted, "Please let me say what I need to say. It will be good for both of us if I can get this out. I wish to earn something I haven't deserved in a very long time, your respect. I will commit to not asking you to endure for me what I would not endure for you, but I still want to be fucked by another man." His face clouded and he tensed like he was going to storm out of the bar, but I stopped him with, "And I wish to have your cock in my mouth when it happens. I also want you to help me choose who it will be." This seemed to completely disconcert him. "None of this will happen until after I've served you while you've fucked another woman that I've helped you to choose. While we finish our drinks, you can decide whether to accept my offer now, or to leave, or to hear the rest of my offer in the room I've booked here for the night."
I waited with trepidation as he decided what to say. He didn't agree, but he didn't diasagree either. After his last sip, he said, "I will decide when you've finished presenting your offer." I smiled then, because I knew I had him. My offer contained a challenge and a mystery, but I wasn't treating him like a beta male. I wasn't asking him to go lower than I would go and, quite the opposite, I was offering to accept a new position in our relationship, because I had learned how excited I was by the prospect of being cuckqueaned.
When we got to the room, I asked him to sit beside me on the bed and I opened my laptop. I had photos and profiles of five beautiful younger women who had voluteered to participate in administering my medicine. Some were my chat friends and others were introduced to me by chat friends. I told Charles that I would serve him and any one or some or all of the five before I would ask him to help me find a young stud. I had asked the volunteers for lingerie photos, but three of them had sent photos that left much less to the imagination than the other two. I told him to take his time deciding. It hurt me to see him paying even this much attention to possible future lovers, but even small bites of crow are bound to taste like crow.
I unzipped his fly and put my hand inside his pants to caress his cock. I soon had his 6 incher to full extension and for the first time in many years, I took it into my mouth. I looked forward to the day when it would be another man's cock I was attending to, but I didn't share that thought with my husband.
Charles closed my laptop and one his hands snaked past the neck line of my little red dress and cupped my left breast. I moaned with pleasure as he gently pushed under my black lace bra and began to tweak my nipple. I asked, "Would you like me to strip for you?"
"Yes, please."
As I got off the bed, he set my laptop off to the side and slid out of his trousers. I did my best to slither sexily out of my dress and when Charles saw what remained, he said, "You are so beautiful, Janice."
I refrained from one of my worst habits. I had often verbally dismissed compliments. Maybe it was an attempt to get more of them or maybe it was an impulse caused by low self esteem. He rarely gave them anymore, but he never stopped completely. He got used to me saying, "Thank you for saying that," as if I didn't believe him. Tonight I simply beamed and said, "Thank you." and he smiled where he often would have frowned.
I shed my bra and panties and was left in one of his favorite outfits, lace-topped sheer black thigh stockings, jewelry and a smile. He loved when I wore long sheer black stockings and out of disbelief that I looked good in them, I almost never did what I knew would please him, until now. His cock had stayed rock hard through the interruption and I wanted to feel it inside me.
"Please fuck me, Sir." I probably had not called him Sir since before we were married and he smiled when he heard it.
"My Pleasure, Ma'am." A sign of respect! I climbed onto the bed, but instead of lying down, I stayed on my knees and elbows. Jake knew that I saw this as a submissive position and usually only assumed it under protest. He had long before stopped asking so I wanted to show him the new me. He got on his knees beside me and while feeling my breasts with one hand, he slid his other hand down my back to rub my buns and thighs and finally to slip his fingers across my pussy lips. "Ohh, so wet!"
"Yes, I've been wanting your hard cock inside me since you left. Please fuck me."
His cock slid in easily and felt so good! He started thrusting and reached with his long arms up to caress my nipples. I moved my hands up onto the top of the headboard while keeping my back arched backwards to help him reach my nipples with less back strain. Then something felt different. I slipped one hand down and rubbed my clit and it started to feel like that one time when he had found my G-spot, only much better. Soon I exploded into a truly soul-shaking orgasm.
Charles started thrusting harder and my orgasm intensified as he gasped and pumped his cum into me. We collapsed onto the bed and as his cock pulled out of me, an unbelievable amount of love juice drained out onto my thigh and down onto the bed. He must have built that up for a whole week. Or maybe it was me who provided an uncommon amount.
I didn't make the mistake of assuming one good orgasm had patched things up between us. The old me would have reverted right back to being a bitch after make-up sex, but this was just a sign that our downward slide toward divorce could slow down. I couldn't afford to mistake it for a change in direction.
"Well that was really fun," I said, "but I'm really curious about what you've decided." I got my laptop and opened it again. "If none of these are satisfactory, tell me what you would prefer and I can look for more."
He tried to tell me that I didn't have to do this for him, but I reminded him that I really wanted to fuck another guy. Then to sweeten the deal, I said, "and I'm seriously thinking I might prefer your cock up my ass while I'm doing it. So please choose."
"Okay," he said. "You told me you would be okay with all five right? Well how about these three, starting with her." I don't think he expected me to agree. I was surprised and pleased by each of his choices.
"Deal." I said and offered my hand to shake on it. We cuddled for a while and then fell comfortably asleep. He returned home with me the next morning.
I logged into my erotic lit website and told one of my female chat friends what I was thinking of doing. She was a domme and her advice was, "Don't do it. Don't humiliate yourself like that. If he's interested in an equal relationship, it would be hypocrisy for him to want that. Wouldn't it?"
"Not if you understand him as I have come to, Darling. We all crave justice and that's what this would be. You understand that all people, but especially women, are interested in receiving gestures that we like, right? And you've probably heard that even negative attention can, for some people, be better than no attention at all? Well Charles isn't like that.
Imagine if, every time that you gave a positive gesture to someone you love, you received a negative reward for doing it. Would that not bother you? Might it not cause you to stop giving positive gestures to that person? For Charles, I've been that person. Every time he gave me a positive gesture, like complimenting my appearance or buying me a gift or the biggie -- initiating a sexual encounter with me, he got what he perceived as a rebuke or a rejection or some other negative response. I was never satisfied. I sometimes thought I was complimenting him and encouraging him to send more positiveness my way, but there's a reason that there's a mythical female demon called a succubus. We can suck the goodwill right out of a man. Hearing things like 'Thank you. You should do that more often.' or 'That was very nice but it would have been so much nicer if only...' is not rewarding."
"I can see your point, but if he married you even though you did that..."
"But I didn't! I didn't do these things to try to change how he acted toward me until after the honeymoon was over and we settled into a more routine life. When the newness wore off, instead of appreciating that I received any positive strokes, I kept letting him know that he wasn't living up to my expectations. I didn't think that could backfire and lower his opinion of me, because I thought good men, if properly directed, would learn how to please their women. Submissive men might, but not men who expect positive or neutral rewards for positive behavior. Not men who see marriage as a partnership of equals. And aren't those good men? I think they can be. So now, in the name of justice, I must reward him for all the years of just tolerating my bitchiness. Then I must show him that it is safe and beneficial to stay with me and maybe eventually, to try to please me. That can only happen if I can learn to deserve or earn better than he's giving me."
I don't think I convinced her, but she's a domme. She thinks only submissive men can care whether they are pleasing their lovers and that Charles could not be a man who did not express a dominant nature out of principle. If that was the case, my plan would not work. But I had to try. Surprisingly, it was not that hard to find women willing to help me.
My spirits perked up when my cell phone beeped. I got a terse text message from Charles, "im ok u?". That simple display of concern rose my spirits to unbelievable heights. It was the first indication that he might want some sort of relationship with me even if I couldn't become the kind of partner he wanted. I replied with, "feeling very contrite and preparing to take my medicine". He knew that by medicine I meant punishment.
We continued with daily texts as I made arrangements and thought about what I would say to him when we met. It was difficult, but I waited until the evening of the 6th day before sending a text that said, "Wanna meet somewhere tomorrow?"
The minutes it took before he replied felt like years, but I rejoiced when the words "Where when?" showed on my screen.
I replied with "Dinner, Bennigan's, 8:00?". We had first met for a blind date at a Bennigan's in a different city far away and long ago, but I'm sure my choice had a "let's start over" message that he would pick up on.
"Good. A very hope filled choice." For him to text a message that big was astounding to me. My heart soared.
The next day, I dressed to impress, as if I was going on a first date. When I met him outside the restaurant, I was surprised to see him wearing clothes that he hadn't taken with him. He must have sneaked in to get them while I was at work without disturbing anything I would notice. He was dressed almost identically to when I had met him. I was very touched by his gesture and I was glad that he seemed happy to see me. Putting my new understanding to work, I said, "I am so glad you agreed to see me and dressed so appropriately." He looked like he was waiting for the negative shoe to drop and when it didn't, he gave me a very comforting hug that melted me and caused a stir in my black lace panties.
He was being very quiet during dinner and it was clear that he was waiting for me to stick my neck out. I knew that I had a good offer for him, so I was content to wait. After dinner, I invited him to follow my car to a place where we could have a frank conversation in public. He was clearly intrigued and agreed. We drove a short distance and parked at a hotel where we had occasionally gone for drinks because we liked the piano bar. We got a booth and ordered drinks. After I took the first soothing sip of my strawberry daquiri, I took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. "I deserve to be humiliated and..." I almost lost my nerve as I gazed into his face and saw a look of delighted surprise, "...and I'm looking forward to it."
I could tell that he wanted to say something, but I quickly interrupted, "Please let me say what I need to say. It will be good for both of us if I can get this out. I wish to earn something I haven't deserved in a very long time, your respect. I will commit to not asking you to endure for me what I would not endure for you, but I still want to be fucked by another man." His face clouded and he tensed like he was going to storm out of the bar, but I stopped him with, "And I wish to have your cock in my mouth when it happens. I also want you to help me choose who it will be." This seemed to completely disconcert him. "None of this will happen until after I've served you while you've fucked another woman that I've helped you to choose. While we finish our drinks, you can decide whether to accept my offer now, or to leave, or to hear the rest of my offer in the room I've booked here for the night."
I waited with trepidation as he decided what to say. He didn't agree, but he didn't diasagree either. After his last sip, he said, "I will decide when you've finished presenting your offer." I smiled then, because I knew I had him. My offer contained a challenge and a mystery, but I wasn't treating him like a beta male. I wasn't asking him to go lower than I would go and, quite the opposite, I was offering to accept a new position in our relationship, because I had learned how excited I was by the prospect of being cuckqueaned.
When we got to the room, I asked him to sit beside me on the bed and I opened my laptop. I had photos and profiles of five beautiful younger women who had voluteered to participate in administering my medicine. Some were my chat friends and others were introduced to me by chat friends. I told Charles that I would serve him and any one or some or all of the five before I would ask him to help me find a young stud. I had asked the volunteers for lingerie photos, but three of them had sent photos that left much less to the imagination than the other two. I told him to take his time deciding. It hurt me to see him paying even this much attention to possible future lovers, but even small bites of crow are bound to taste like crow.
I unzipped his fly and put my hand inside his pants to caress his cock. I soon had his 6 incher to full extension and for the first time in many years, I took it into my mouth. I looked forward to the day when it would be another man's cock I was attending to, but I didn't share that thought with my husband.
Charles closed my laptop and one his hands snaked past the neck line of my little red dress and cupped my left breast. I moaned with pleasure as he gently pushed under my black lace bra and began to tweak my nipple. I asked, "Would you like me to strip for you?"
"Yes, please."
As I got off the bed, he set my laptop off to the side and slid out of his trousers. I did my best to slither sexily out of my dress and when Charles saw what remained, he said, "You are so beautiful, Janice."
I refrained from one of my worst habits. I had often verbally dismissed compliments. Maybe it was an attempt to get more of them or maybe it was an impulse caused by low self esteem. He rarely gave them anymore, but he never stopped completely. He got used to me saying, "Thank you for saying that," as if I didn't believe him. Tonight I simply beamed and said, "Thank you." and he smiled where he often would have frowned.
I shed my bra and panties and was left in one of his favorite outfits, lace-topped sheer black thigh stockings, jewelry and a smile. He loved when I wore long sheer black stockings and out of disbelief that I looked good in them, I almost never did what I knew would please him, until now. His cock had stayed rock hard through the interruption and I wanted to feel it inside me.
"Please fuck me, Sir." I probably had not called him Sir since before we were married and he smiled when he heard it.
"My Pleasure, Ma'am." A sign of respect! I climbed onto the bed, but instead of lying down, I stayed on my knees and elbows. Jake knew that I saw this as a submissive position and usually only assumed it under protest. He had long before stopped asking so I wanted to show him the new me. He got on his knees beside me and while feeling my breasts with one hand, he slid his other hand down my back to rub my buns and thighs and finally to slip his fingers across my pussy lips. "Ohh, so wet!"
"Yes, I've been wanting your hard cock inside me since you left. Please fuck me."
His cock slid in easily and felt so good! He started thrusting and reached with his long arms up to caress my nipples. I moved my hands up onto the top of the headboard while keeping my back arched backwards to help him reach my nipples with less back strain. Then something felt different. I slipped one hand down and rubbed my clit and it started to feel like that one time when he had found my G-spot, only much better. Soon I exploded into a truly soul-shaking orgasm.
Charles started thrusting harder and my orgasm intensified as he gasped and pumped his cum into me. We collapsed onto the bed and as his cock pulled out of me, an unbelievable amount of love juice drained out onto my thigh and down onto the bed. He must have built that up for a whole week. Or maybe it was me who provided an uncommon amount.
I didn't make the mistake of assuming one good orgasm had patched things up between us. The old me would have reverted right back to being a bitch after make-up sex, but this was just a sign that our downward slide toward divorce could slow down. I couldn't afford to mistake it for a change in direction.
"Well that was really fun," I said, "but I'm really curious about what you've decided." I got my laptop and opened it again. "If none of these are satisfactory, tell me what you would prefer and I can look for more."
He tried to tell me that I didn't have to do this for him, but I reminded him that I really wanted to fuck another guy. Then to sweeten the deal, I said, "and I'm seriously thinking I might prefer your cock up my ass while I'm doing it. So please choose."
"Okay," he said. "You told me you would be okay with all five right? Well how about these three, starting with her." I don't think he expected me to agree. I was surprised and pleased by each of his choices.
"Deal." I said and offered my hand to shake on it. We cuddled for a while and then fell comfortably asleep. He returned home with me the next morning.
Becky
- 16.08.2022
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