Goodbye Master Stokes Chapter 3 Lifting The Veil
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The intro music finished followed by a ladies sultry voice filling the radios, i-phones, and other devices tuned into her popular podcast.
“Greetings and salutations to all my veiled listeners and dreamers. Tonight's show is like my others. The letters I’ll read I’ve changed all names, just in case real ones were used. I’ve changed the location and if needed spiced it up a little. I’ll remind you that sex should always be a safe, pleasurable, and with practice, a memorable experience. The first letter made me pause multiple times as I read it. It reminded me of mistakes I’ve and we’ve all made in our past. The wrong name to a lover, forgetting a birthday or anniversary, to name two. Others that were painful. This is a painful letter so please bear with me and understand what the writer was and is going through.
oOo
Dear CV,
I’ve been married to a wonderful if at times, obstinate man, for seven years now. We dated for about eighteen months, then an eight-month engagement. My mom and I run an exotic dancing joint on the east side of Cincinnati. That’s where I met him. He had come in with a friend, a regular. His friend was always upfront for the show but he sat at the bar in the back. This happened for three weeks. My mom told me about their conversations. That he was single, had a sense of humor, and thought that I and a few other girls here were rather nice looking. My mom had me do bar in the fourth week they came in. He and I talked for most of the time. His eyes and jovial personality were like magnets. He had no visible ink and his eyes were all over mine.
“You like my tattoo's?”
“Yes, very much. That’s not me but they’re a tremendous combination and expression of a person’s self and artistic imagination to see it through. I see a wraith, a Viking maiden, and a dragon. All beautifully done. Your natural red hair adds to the colors and art.”
“Thanks, it’s a Nazgul and Eowyn, from Lord of the Rings. The other is a dragon named Smaug, it’s from the Hobbit. Would you like to get something to eat when the show is over?”
“If you can wait for me to get my friend home, I can pick you up here or meet you someplace?”
“Pick me up here, say 1am.”
“Great, can’ wait.”
It was the best eggs and pancake date I’d ever had. It took about two hours to eat. I felt like a teenager, flirting, playing footsie, getting wet and horny. In his car, I initiated a heavy make-out and petting session. It concluded with me saying,
“You do know you’re spending the night at my place.”
oOo
Four months later he moved in with me when his lease was up. As our relationship grew and blossomed, he wasn’t into BDSM and what he did know was from movies and TV. For the most part, he was passive yet he had a jenesequa. There were times when he would seduce me or unexpectedly take us to a hotel on my lunch hour and make passionate love to me. Over time I brought him into my lifestyle. He was a natural sub but more pride and backbone than I expected. We didn’t have a finalized contract until our third year of marriage. Part of that contract was no guy on guy sex with him unless we discussed it beforehand and he agreed and no public or in-front of other humiliation or emasculation. As a dom and femdom mistress, it’s my duty to know my sub/slave limits. I knew he could take either but I also saw his abject fear of both.
All was going well, he was my slave/sub, VT, and I was his mistress Umbra. I became more assertive and he said little. It started with me having him wear panties when we went to parties. I agreed to never tell anyone about it and VT never complained. He was great around the house, did all that was expected of him and then some. He complimented and flirted with me when he didn’t have to. He wasn’t great at remembering the expected greeting but that slip was a once or twice a week occurrence. I punished him but not all the time as he made so few mistakes. I was beaming with pride and would tell my friends how good he was as a husband and slave/sub. My only concern was how he was when I’d ask him to have sex with other ladies. He did but he was always nervous, a bit uncomfortable and way too technical. Not like with me. He was antsy and jealous when I had sex with other guys, not as much with other ladies. I allowed him two days of regularity, Monday and Tuesday, along with one other day every other week of his choosing. No rules, expectations or anything, we were husband and wife. This also applied when my non-BDSM friends or his friends and families were over.
On my thirty-fifth birthday, a party was thrown for me at the dancing place my mom and I own. This was for our BDSM friends and family. VT was in a sexy leather and lace outfit that made me wet just looking at him. A few of the other ladies there commented and asked about having him that night. I said I’d consider it. During the party, I’d had a bit much to drink, my slave/sub rarely drank. I told him,
“Slave VT, dance on the counter. He looked at me with some anger in his eyes but I train good slave/subs and was unconcerned. He did what he was told. He’s a good though not great dancer and since few others were sober and his dancing skill wasn’t what the ladies were interested in, along with a few guys. He earned the whistles and catcalls made at him, and he deserves them. He still had a pretty damn good body. One of the masters there, Sampson shouted, “Take it off slave VT.”
VT looked at me in shock and stopped dancing.
“You heard, do what master Sampson said, slave," I responded. The alcohol had made me say that.
“No," was his reply.
“It’s okay, now we know that VT means Very Tiny. How many BBC’s have you had up your ass or in your mouth, Very Tiny?”
“None,” VT replied but he was shaking almost trembling. He knew that Sampson was gay.
“Mistress Umbra, give me a half-hour with Very Tiny and I’ll have him cured of this issue, such disrespect to one’s mistress shouldn’t be tolerated.”
I was tipsy, it was my birthday and I’d never seen such defiance from VT before. His eyes blazed with it. Yet he was torn as I knew he loved me, very much. However, he was my slave, I knew it it was just semantics sub...slave but he would be punished for such disobedience.
“It’s okay, he just doesn’t want anyone to see the panties he wearing. Isn’t that right Very Tiny?”
That was when he said something I never expected. He looked at me and said, “Catcher in the Rye!” and stood there on the counter.
Everyone was looking at me, all eyes were on me, on my birthday, how embarrassing, how degrading.
“What the fuck is Catcher in the Rye?" Sampson asked.
“It’s mine and Mistress Umbra’s yellow safe word.”
“Safe word! You pansy, sissy piece of shift used a safe word in front of your mistresses friends and family? I should help her punish you for such. You’re a slave, you have no rights, safe words or contract. You did do as she directed you slave VT," said Sampson.
“Well, mistress am I slave or sub? Do I have only one contract with you or two?”
I was torn. Embarrassed, flustered and drunk. I was also very mad that he’d ruined my birthday.
“That contract was just a placebo. It was meant for you and you alone.”
He nodded at me, tears streaming down his face. He removed his hood and tossed it in my lap saying, "In Cold Blood, that’s our red safe word, not that it matters. I’m off to talk to a friend about the only contract we have together. Mistress, my birthday is in five weeks to let me know.”
VT walked out.
Carnal Veil, I want him back as both husband and sub. What should I do?
Your devoted listener,
E B
oOo
“I hope my listeners will forgive the tears this story brought me while reading it. The first thing to do EB, you indicated you want your husband back, so get him back. That’s the most important thing. He became your sub out of love, you need to show him you love him more than having him as a sub.
You also made a mistake with the contract and safe words. You always felt of him as your salve yet told him he was a sub. They are different and you lost focus on that, your husband was a sub. You lied to him, yourself, or both. He was vanilla and despite the seven years of you bringing him into that lifestyle, lying to a sub isn’t part of it. You owe him an apology. You should also apologize to those present, for you let them believe he was a slave. My hope is that he still loves you, for based on the letter, you still love him. Let him know that, show him that. Ask for his forgiveness. Why? Because you put lifestyle in front of your marriage. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to bring a loved one into what you enjoy but it shouldn’t be a challenge to do so. Training subs isn’t a measuring stick. It’s not a job to do like training a dog. It, alone, is not an expression of love, though love is and can be expressed in this type of relationship.”
I saw the red important caller light and decided to take it.
oOo
“Yes, our first caller, what’s your comment or suggestion.”
A tentative male voice came on.
“Hello, Ms. CV?”
“Yes, and your name?”
There’s something familiar about that voice.
“I’m VT. First-time caller but long-time listener for oh a little over eight years now. I’ve always enjoyed the show.”
OMG!
“Please go ahead and nothing vulgar or real names.”
“I know that my wife, E.B., listens to your show. She works nights and I want her to know that this is the best birthday present she’s ever given me. I still love her as if it was when we had our egg and pancake date. I’ll be home when she gets off work and waiting for her. Thanks for taking my call.”
oOo
I got home and spent a few minutes making sure my make-up wasn’t to messed up or my eyes still red. The house was dark, with only a light in the kitchen. I unlocked the door, my plans to seduce my husband forming in my mind. A trail of clothes leading to the bedroom, to pick up in the morning wouldn’t be a problem.
I tossed my purse on the couch and flicked the light switch but it didn’t work. I heard my husband’s voice.
“First, relax, I have a surprise for you. Don’t talk until I say so. Nod in agreement if you understand.”
I nodded, though filled with anticipation at the forcefulness of his statement.
"Okay, Lady Eowyn, shield-maiden of Rohan, slayer of the Witch-king. I’m not Aragorn, just Faramir, a lowly captain of Gondor. If you will have me remove your clothes but leave your bra, panties, and put the heals back on. Nice, the purple with light-colored lace. On the key pegs is something for you to put on your head, please do so.”
He’s never done anything like this to me before. It’s sexy, a turn on, and I know he still loves me. We may not make it to the bedroom.
I striped as he asked and reached for the key holder pegs. A mask, with lace. A black Venetian butterfly mask, I put it on.
“Good, you look so sexy right now.”
“Than...”
“I sad don’t talk right now. Close your eyes and walk to my voice”
“Good, closer, yes that right dear. Now, reach out with your right hand.”
I did and felt his hand. He took it and our fingers entwined. I smelled food and that candles were burning.
“Now come with me, eyes closed.”
We walked through the kitchen to the dining room. I heard him move a chair against the wood floor.
“Sit, keep your eyes closed.”
I did and he pushed the chair with me up to the table. He then sat opposite me.
“Now, when I finish talking you can open your eyes and talk. I’ve always thought of you like you are now. Sexy, sensual, beautiful, and mysterious. I also remember that sometimes, after your show, your hungry so I made us something to eat. Open your eyes and you can talk.”
I saw him in a black lounge robe with red trim, hopefully, skimpy briefs underneath. He’d made us a late dinner. Eggs, pancakes, bacon and a pitcher of mimosa. I could tell he used grapefruit juice, my favorite and there were seven burning candles on the table.
I could talk but all I could do was cry at what my husband had done for me and for us. He’s saying he forgave me, that he still loved and wanted me.
“Is there something wrong?
Wrong dear, why I haven’t fucked you or made love to you in five weeks and now you’ve made me a beautiful meal that I have to eat before I devour you. But I can’t tell you that.
I shook my head no, as I finally was able to speak through my tears. “I thought I’d lost you, lost my husband because of what I did. I love you so much and I’ll be thanking you very soon for forgiving me.”
“I loved you after we’d been together for a month. I let my lease expire but you asked me before I could ask you about moving in together. My love for you hasn’t changed. Now, let’s eat then we can get to the thanking.”
I can only say that this was now the best pancake and egg date I’ve ever had. As we finished cleaning up. Thinking of his skimpy-tight briefs and his always impressive hard-on, had me going and wet.
I took my flute and put the last of the mimosa in it and added some maple syrup, finger mixed it and tasted it and put the glass down.
I grabbed my husband’s face and assaulted his lips, my tongue easily entering his waiting and wanting mouth. I used a hand to stroke his cock as my other had entwined with his hair to keep our lips attached. After several minutes, I broke the bout of kissing, seductively smiled at him and yanked his briefs down. My mouth devoured his cock and quickly engulfed his seven-plus inches. My tongue swirled as I sucked. His sighs were beautiful and after five weeks I had to work at controlling myself. I pulled my mouth off his cock with a plop. I took my flute and dipped that tasty hard-on in the mimosa-syrup mix several times, licked and sucked it then dipped it a second time.
“Dear, you finish this glass while I finish your dick. I’ve been without real meat for five weeks.”
He drained the glass in one gulp and I wanted to swallow his load of semen. I slurped, sucked, licked, and even lightly bit his stone-hard cock. He had this knack of not forcing my head onto to him but could still seductively run his fingers through my hair. A couple of minutes later, I felt his balls tense, Yessss, escaped his mouth as he exploded in mine. Four large bursts with a few small ones. I saved some of his seed as I cupped my tongue and moved to kiss him, giving him some of what he so recently gave me.
“Hmm, it been five weeks for me also, love.”
He swept me up in his arms and carried me, while kissing, to our bedroom. I kicked the heals off as he tossed me on the bed. His leering stare didn’t last long as he reached down and yanked my panties off, then he dove between my legs. My pussy got the best tongue lashing and vaginal probing since we’d been together. My husband was good at this but I didn’t marry him for his skill at fucking and sucking. I married because of love for him and his for me. This time, he moved to the top of the charts.
I came three times between him using my clitoris as a whipping post, my vagina as a focus for his tongue and when his finger found my g-spot as he was sucking my clitoris. My bucking, thrashing and screaming only urged him onward. He didn’t stop as I came and then came again and a third time. I was bathed in a sheen of sweat as he held me so tenderly as I recovered from my volcanic orgasms.
I stroked his shaft as we playfully kissed. Its growth felt beautiful. He rolled us over, me on my back. He ran that hard penis between my labia and onto my sex button. He was on his arms looking down at me, the love in his eyes reflecting my own for him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled up and kissed him, then said,
“Fuck me, fuck me, hard love.”
He did. That first hard thrust went all the way to my cervix, then out and right back in.
“Oh my fucking god dear, I’ve so missed that.”
I started matching his thrusts with my hip thrusts. After a bit, he knelled and grabbed my hips and pulled me onto him.
It was like when we fucked and made love on our first date. He bottomed out several times and we both came as I squirted around his hard cock and he blew several loads that warmed me inside and out.
We stayed like that until he slipped out and held each other. I couldn’t take it and I started sobbing.
“I’m so sorry for how I treated you. I was wrong, I forgot that you are my husband. I lied about our contract to you.”
“Shh, dear. You’ve done the hard thing, you apologized on the radio. My love for you was never in question, is our marriage in question?”
“No, I love you more than anything. You’re no longer my sub, that contract is gone.”
“How about we put it on hold as we talk about it? I know how much it means to you and, to tell the truth, I enjoyed several aspects of it.”
“You mean that?”
“Yes, and as far as talking about it and other things. Don’t you think it’s time for us to have a family?”
“You want to have kids?”
“Of course, I can’t think of a better future mother in the whole world.”
Virginia
- 20.12.2022
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