We Need To Talk Chapter 2 free porn video

Chapter 2 As I vacuumed the floor that evening I couldn't help but to replay this long journey in my mind, wanting so desperately to somehow go back, somehow be a man... A few months into our femdom life my wife handed me a small white gift box with a pink bow during our play weekend. I trepidly opened the box and found a pair of pink woman's leather gloves. "Go ahead and put them on, left glove first," my wife ordered. I put the gloves on, and realized something was more sinister than it initially appeared when I slide the right glove on. The first and index fingers were sewn together, and the pinky and ring fingers were sewn together. There was something sewn into the glove above the first and index finger that prevented me from curling the fingers. "Put your thumb over your pinky and ring finger." I curled my fingers and put my thumb over them. My wife then pulled the thumb up and put a large dab of glue on the thumb and closed my thumb over my fingers holding my hand tight. "Don't you dare move." After a couple of minutes my wife removed her hand and the glue was set. "How do you like your new masturbation gloves?" I stared at the bizarre shape of my right hand, and tried to stick a finger in my curled finger, amusing my wife. I was totally confused "No silly," my wife says while laughing. "You don't stroke a clittie, you rub it. Pull your little skirt up and look up, I don't want you seeing your silly little clittie." My clittie? Why is she calling my cock a cilttie? She removed the steel chastity belt and replaced it with a pair of satin panties. Oh my god they felt amazing against my tender skin. "Let your skirt down and lay down on your back right here, facing the couch," she ordered, pointing to the floor in front of the couch. I laid down on the floor with my shins near the couch. She pulled down her panties from under her skirt and threw them on the floor next to me. She sat down on the couch in front of me spreading her legs wide. "Go ahead and spread you legs wide like me slut," she said with a wicked grin. I spread my legs as ordered as sensual mood music began playing on the surround sound. "Now you just rub your silly little clittie like I do," she ordered as she began to slowly rub her clit with her first and middle finger. "If you feel like your going to cum move your fingers down to the base of your silly little clittie, but you better be able to cum immediately when I command you. Is that understood?" "Yes ma'am." For the next 30 minutes she kept us both on the edge of climax. The mix of the sensual music, leather gloves rubbing against satin panties, my other gloved hand stoking my inner thigh, squeezing my nipples, my chest, my wife moaning as I watch her masturbate in front of me for the first time, was sensual beyond anything I've ever experienced. My fingers followed hers; little circles, rubbing up and down, fast, slow, soft, hard, hips grinding..It didn't take 5 minutes before I was ready to cum, after10 I was desperate...after 20 I was writhing on the floor fighting every instinct of my being to grab my cock with my left hand and stroke myself off. "Stop!" she commanded. WHAT?? I can't!!! I couldn't pull my fingers away until I screamed out in pain as a riding crop bit violently into the tender flesh of my thigh. I screamed out again as the crop ripped into my other thigh. My hands both slammed into the floor as my hips bucked in the air in a futile attempt to get relief. She drops the crop and her right hand takes over rubbing her clit while her left hand grabs her breast. "PLEASE PLEASE! I BEG YOU PLEASE!" I screamed out, immediately followed by my wife gasping, her face contorting, as her body is wracked by a powerful orgasm, convulsing, her hand rubbing fast and hard against her clit. I couldn't help myself from grinding my hips as I stared up at my beautiful wife as she tries to catch her breath, basking in the afterglow. I am woken from my trance with a snap of a finger followed by her pointing to the corner. "Hands behind your back," she breathlessly commands. Following that episode my cock became my silly little clittie, while my ass became my pussy. The only way I could get sexual relief was to beg and plead for my wife to "let me rub my silly little clittie and fuck my pussy", but I was only allowed to beg if she had me dressed in woman's clothes. I felt stupid kneeling before my wife, my lips pressed against her foot, begging for something so humiliating. The begging became very sincere after a week, not knowing when she would dress me up again. Sometimes a terse no was easier to handle than the humiliation when she would allow me. Her large cock would push past my freshly painted lips, my spit and saliva would be the only lubrication before being forced up my pussy, and held in by my panties. "Head up." Her cock would invade my mouth before being shoved in my pussy, and my panties pulled back up. When she was ready she would simply snap her fingers and I would take my place on the floor before her and begin the humiliating task. If I didn't put on a good enough show, a realistic show, she would lock me back up without relief. Sometimes though she would simply tell me to stop even when I did put on a good show; it was, after all, her prerogative. In no time I'd be writhing on the floor before her. Sometimes she'd watch, telling me what to do, sometimes she'd humiliate me, other times she would be totally oblivious to me as she read a book or watched TV, talked on the phone or ate her dinner. Without warning she would simply command "Cum bitch" and I would rub the tender spot of my silly little clittie as fast as I could in tiny little circles while she counted down "5...4...3...2...1...stop." The resulting orgasm was only slightly more satisfying than a ruined orgasm. Immediately after my little orgasm a snap of her fingers would cause me to jump up and stand before her with my hands behind my back. She would slip a lock through my cuffs, another snap of her finger would have me scurrying to the corner. At her whim a snap of her finger would have me scurrying before her, again holding my skirt up with my head held up. My pretty little sissy panties would be pulled down my legs and used to wipe away all of my "sissy juice" before being pushed into my waiting mouth. Her thumb pressing against my chin forces my mouth closed. The taste of cum and Nordstrom Lingerie Wash filling my mouth. Cold hard steel would quickly replace the soft, silky panties. All of this happening without me ever seeing my silly little clittie, and with the gloves she has me wear I can't feel it either. After a few months the frequency of my forced cross dressing began to diminish. One time after I brought my wife to an orgasm I asked her if I could cum. My needs were met with a quick hard slap across my face. "Are you dressed like a little sissy?? ?No ma'am.? Another smack ?We're you in the proper position to ask?? ?No ma'am.? Another smack ?Did you ask to rub your silly little clittie?? ?No ma'am.? Two quick slaps to the face. I began to choke up and thought I would cry. My wife looks down at my red face, her pussy juices still dripping off my chin. ?What do you have to say for yourself?? ?I'm so sorry ma'am, but I'm so desperate ma'am. You're so damn hot and I haven't made love to you in months, and I haven't had any relief in over a week.? ?So that gives you permission to break my rules?? ?No ma'am, but, please forgive me, but I'm really desperate.? ?You know the rules.? ?But you haven't told me to put on a dress for a long time.? ?Well that sounds like a personal problem boy, but I think your smart enough to get what you want.? I lowered my face to the floor, my lips pressed to her foot, ?Please ma'am. Please dress me in woman's clothes.? ?No, not today. But the next time you ask you'll ask to wear your pretty little sissy dress. Is that understood?? ?Yes ma'am.? The next day I found myself prostrate before her begging for permission to change into my ?pretty little sissy dress?. It was humiliating, but it was the only way I was going to get any relief. As my sexual desperation grew, so did my desperate pleadings to wear my pretty little sissy dresses. It became a daily ritual for me to debase myself by pressing my lips against her feet or her shoes, and then to debase myself moments later begging her to let me rub my silly little clittie. After about a month of my near constant begging my wife to let me wear my pretty little sissy dress, my wife gave me an ultimatum as my lips were once again pressed against her shoe. ?The site of my husband begging to dress like a little sissy is really becoming tiresome. If you want to dress like a sissy all the time, then just go ahead and ask me, rather beg me, to let you dress up like a pretty little sissy whenever you're home, and you better be convincing. Only then can you beg to rub your silly little clittie.? ?But I don't want to dress like a sissy ma'am, I just desperately need some relief, and you told me the only way I could rub my silly little clittie was if I was dressed like a sissy. Please I beg you don't make me do this,? my lips pressed to her shoe, inches from the key that could free me from my desperate desires. It would be so easy to rip that key from that delicate gold chain. ?I'm not making you do anything. If you want to be a man you can stand up, drag me to our bedroom and fuck my lights out with your big cock, otherwise you'll need to be dressed properly before you can rub your silly little clittie.? I slowly reach for the key dangling against my wife's ankle. I scream out in pain as a sharp pain rips through my tender clittie. ?What the hell do you thing you're doing!!??? ?But...you....said...? I stammered. ?Did I give you permission to touch my key or to unlock your silly little clittie?? ?No ma'am.? I scream out in pain as another surge of current courses through my silly little clittie. ?I said you could fuck me with your big cock. Show me your big cock.? ?I can't ma'am, you have it locked up.? ?I don't have your big cock locked up. What do I have locked up?? ?My silly little clittie ma'am.? ?You're dismissed.? ?Thank you ma'am.? I toiled over the idea of dressing like a sissy every day. Were we going too far...was she taking us past the point of no return. Were we already there? I really did not want to dress like a sissy every day. Although some of the clothes felt pretty hot as the soft silky material rubbed against my flesh, I just felt really stupid in some of the clothes she made me wear, as well as she seemed to be quite a bit crueler, quite a bit colder, when I was dressed en femme. Sexual desperation continued to fill me, overwhelm me. A knot began to grow in the pit of my stomach as it became clear what I had to do. After a couple days I was determined to take back my manhood. When my wife came home I greeted her as normal with my lips reverently pressed to her shoe as I pulled each one off her feet. I stand to take off her jacket and she hands me her purse before she walks off to her chair with the ice cold lemon and cucumber infused water I had waiting for her. I hang up her coat and put her purse and shoes away. The pit in my stomach grows and rises to my throat. I could barely walk as I approached the living room and sat down on the sectional, facing her. My wife looked up from the paper she was reading, clearly annoyed by my insolence. ?I want to be your husband again,? I blurted out. My wife's eyes burrowed into my soul. Soon, a wry smile washed across her lips. ?Why didn't you sit on your man chair dear?? ?I don't know. Please, I'm being serious,? I meekly replied. She slowly stood up and sensually walked over to me, a tinge of fear swept through me as I looked up at her wry smile. She ran her fingers through my hair and bent down and gave me a loving kiss. She stared deep into my eyes, and soon crooked finger slipped into the d-ring on my collar and gently pulled me forward. ?Please,? I beg. I could easily resist but my body instinctively follows her guidance. She grabs the leash from the end table and slips the lead on my collar, staring into my eyes for a dramatic pause before letting the spring loaded release click shut. Oh my god...the site before me, chain wrapped around my wife's beautiful hand. The way she walks...so sexy, so powerful ? even in her stocking feet. The feelings that begin to flood my senses begin to relax the tightness of my throat. There is nothing quite like being led on a leash by a beautiful, sensual woman. I'm led to her dungeon. She slowly pushes the door open. ?Please,? I beg. She turns to me and places a finger against her lushes red lips, signaling me to be quiet. She begins to walk very slowly into the dungeon. Bright red fingernails against black leather as she caresses the implements and collars. ?Are we going to throw all this away or try and sell it?? she asks softly. She pulls a crop off the wall, bends it slowly before throwing it on the ground. ?Maybe we could play on the weekends,? I offer. Her finger slowly runs along the length of a ball gag. ?This isn't a game dear,? she states as her finger stops at the end. She caresses a pair of leather gloves, places them before her nose and takes a deep breath before slowly placing them on her hands. She caresses my face, the feel and smell of the soft leather putting me in a trance. The cage door squeaks as she slowly opens the door. I jump when she slams the door closed. I always thought we should get a real cage, I never felt truly secure in the cheap dog cage; I felt I could kick the cage door off any time I wanted out. ?Would you be a dear and put those on me?? as she points to a pair of calf-length boots on the other side of the dungeon. ?Please...? I start. ?Please? she says, in a sweet little pleading voice, breaking me off before I could finish. She lets go off the leash as I walk towards her boots. I know what she's doing, but my mind is made up. I feel the pit in my stomach grow larger, the tightness in my throat constricting my breathing. I feel the soft leather between my fingers as I grab her boots. I kneel before her as I've done so many times before. My hands begin to shake as she lifts a foot and places it in the boot I'm holding for her. I pull up as her powerful leg pushes against me. My fingers tremble as I pull up the zipper; this will be the last time I do this. The key to my manhood flashes before me as her other foot disappears into her leather boot. We both pause after I zip up her other boot. ?You may kiss them if you'd like.? I fight my training. I fight my desire. ?No...no thank you.? I stay kneeling as she begins to slowly walk through the dungeon. The click of her heel reminds of all the time I spent not being able to see her; my world became the sound of those fucking boots, driving me crazy with fear and lust. ?You may stand,? she states. I don't know why I didn't stand earlier, but I stood when she gave me permission. ?What are we going to do with this space?? Click.......click........click.........click. I could hear the sound of dirt grinding between the tile floor and the leather sole and it makes me nervous knowing I didn't clean the floor good enough. Images those soles flash from the recesses of my mind, seeing them before they are pressed to my mouth, feelings of revulsion and lust as I remember licking the filth off those very soles. ?Maybe a little man cave. You can come down here and watch baseball and basketball, that sounds exciting doesn't it. Do you even like sports?? ?No ma'am. I mean no.? ?How about woodworking? You seem to be good at that. Maybe you could make wooden toys or bookcases,? she says as her hand caresses the thick wood and steel of the stocks I made. I can't help but to look and admire the soft leather glove juxtaposed on solid wood and cold hard steel. The sound of heels clicking against a hard tile floor fill the room. Soft leather gloves slowly wrapped with chain. ?Please,? I beg as I'm guided by her. My body is guided effortlessly to the stocks, my head gently pushed into the neck hole. My hands instinctively rest in the wrist holes. The 2 X 6 is slowly lowered until it rests in it's guide. The sound of a steel fast-pin locking into a steel pole signals I'm securely locked in, and at her mercy. She slowly walks away and out of my view, the click of her boots once again becoming my world. Gentle hands unbuckle my belt and pull my pants down. Soft leather slowly caresses my ass. A sudden hard slap and a hand strongly squeezes the soft flesh of my ass in a display of ownership. I can feel the warmth spreading. Another sudden hard slap, and again she grips the soft flesh tightly in her hand. Click......click......click..... ?So you want to give this all up. Your desires. Your fetishes. Your very soul? Do you know how many men would give anything to live your life?? SMACK I scream out as a well made cat rips into the tender flesh of my ass. At first the thud feel, then the burning heat spreading. She's an expert. Perfectly executed to provide me the right amount of pain and lust, fear and desire. The heat spreading quickly from my ass to my soul. ?Maybe you can take up a hobby, maybe puzzles or model cars. That sounds fun and exciting doesn't it.? SMACK My body instinctively tries to escape from the unyielding stocks. The warmth emanates from my ass and floods my being. I've noticed my throat is relaxed, the pit in my stomach growing smaller. I hear the sound of the cat being tossed on the floor. My wife pulls the pin out of the stock and raises it up...giving me my freedom. ?It's all or nothing dear. And if we have a female led relationship, then it's going to be done on my terms since I'm the female. If you want to go back to a boring vanilla relationship then that's what we do, and we never speak of this again. I want you to think about this. Let's make sure your not making a rash decision.? She grabs my leash and she slowly leads me to the destination of her choice. As always, I'm enthralled by the view before me. She leads me to our bedroom and I know what's coming. ?Please don't,? I beg, ?I've already made my decision.? ?I'm doing this for your own good. This is who you are. You're about to give up everything you've ever wanted because you don't want to wear a dress. Isn't that part of your fantasies, being forced to do something you don't want to?? A soft leather glove caresses my face. The intoxicating smell fills my senses as her hand covers my nose. ?You need to spend some time alone thinking about what you're giving up. Think about what you're really afraid of. You need to be sure you want to give up this life...this life that completes you.? ?May I wear my fuck-me-pumps ma'am,? I ask. Fuck, I can't stop myself! ?Yes you may,? my wife gently responds. After my 5? red stiletto's are strapped on, my wife guides my mouth over her thick cock. A chirp signals I'm stuck here until I hear another chirp, whenever that is. My wife gently runs her fingers through my hair and along the back of my neck. The soft leather feels so good against my skin. She invades my space. I can feel her hot breath against my neck, in my ears, giving me goosebumps. Time becomes warped. A minute to her is an hour for me. After an eternity she whispers in my ear, ?Make sure this is what you want dear. You know where I'll be.? Her hand leaves my head and she simply walks away, closing the door behind her. I have no choice but to stand on my perch alone, with the thoughts she has planted in my fertile mind. A million images later, a million thoughts and a million emotions later, a faint chirp snaps me from my trance. I pull my dry mouth from her thick cock. I drop to my knees to get some relief from the torture of standing so long in these fucking shoes. I can't help but tofeel feminine as I unbuckle the thin red straps and pull the bright red patent leather shoes off my aching feet. They feel so light and delicate in my hands, yet can cause me so much pain...whether I'm wearing them or my wife is digging hers into my tender flesh. The walk to my wife takes another eternity. My wife looks up at me as I enter the living room, but quickly turns her attention back to the TV. My mouth becomes dry as I stand before her. I begin to tremble as I get on my knees. My lips find their home against the supple leather of my wife's boot. The intoxicating smell fills my nose as I gently kiss the leather. ?May I...? ?You'll wait for my show to end. In the meantime, continue worshiping my boots.? My god I can't wait another fucking minute! These last few days have been a living hell and I just desperately need to get this over with. Fuck. This is a life changing event. So, for the next 40 minutes my lips gently kiss every inch of her boots, while pent up desires once again fill me with no place to go, building up, making me feel like I'm going to fucking blow up! The sound of the TV finally goes quiet. After a long silence, ?Well dear, what's your decision?? she asks, clearly not needing to. ?May I please dress like a sissy whenever I'm home.? Silence. ?Please, I beg of you. Please let me wear woman's clothes whenever I'm home. I want, I need this. I'll do whatever you want, whatever it takes. Please.? Silence. I begin to cry, ?Please, what do want from me?? as I sob into her boot and the carpet. ?I'm scared of you leaving me Richie. I'm afraid of you wanting a divorce from me if I become the woman of your dreams.? ?I would never divorce you...ever. I promise,? I plead. ?I need more than that. I need you to sign a post-nuptial agreement.? ?Please. We don't need to do that,? I beg. She hands me the agreement and a pen. I notice Michelle's name on the header, a good friend of my wife. I sit up to read it. I feel sick as I pour through it, basically giving up everything in the event I initiate a divorce. ?Please. Can't we talk about this? Give us some time?? ?This isn't up for discussion. You can either sign it and we can begin living out your fantasy, or you can rip it up and we go back to our boring vanilla life. It's up to you.? ?Please.? ?OK, then just hand it to me and I'll rip it up.? I was terrified. My hands shaking as I put the agreement on the coffee table and signed my initials on all the lines below her initials. My signatures below hers. I handed the agreement and pen to her. I was terrified, paralyzed. I felt flush, my mouth completely dry. ?Kiss my boots.? My face dropped back to the carpet and my lips pressed against black leather. My hands caressing the heels, needing so desperately to touch her, to hold her, to be held. ?Yes dear. You can and will dress like a little sissy whenever you're home,? my wife say's, emphasizing will. ?Thank you ma'am, thank you ma'am,? my lips pressing into her boot. Fear and anxiety overcome me, the pit in my stomach growing again. I need to be my wife's husband, to be her man, not some ridiculous looking sissy. As my lips touch her boot again I realize I probably don't look like much of a man to her now anyways. The sound of a gentle kiss seems so loud now, so humiliating. I desperately want to hold her, to kiss her soft sensual lips. My lips once again press softly against her leather boot. Again the sound of a gently kiss seems to fill the room. ?Let's get you dressed.? ?Yes ma'am,? I reply. She leads the way to our bedroom and hands me a small pink box from the closet. My hands shake as I open the box and gently pull the pink tissue paper aside. White stockings sit on top of a ridiculous pink and white satin maids outfit, a garter belt, panties, and a bra. I feel the world change as I replace my men's clothes with this ridiculous outfit. Although I've done this before, this time it seemed very different.? ?You have a lot of hair for a little sissy don't you?? my wife playfully asks. ?Yes ma'am, I do.? ?You'll take care of that tomorrow, and then you'll make sure to keep yourself smooth and feminine from this day forward. Is that understood missy?? ?Yes ma'am.? As if I wasn't humiliated enough, after I was dressed, she handed me another pink box full of humiliating accessories; a pink and white choker with little pink and white bows and bells with matching cuffs. A shoe box was thrown at me containing a pair of pink patent-leather mary janes. My god this can't be happening. My wife grabs a tube of lipstick from her collection and applies pink lipstick to my lips and powders my face. After the red rouge is applied to my cheeks I can sense her change. She stares at me for a minute before roughly guiding me by my ear to the mirrored closet door, my bells jingling, and we look at the absurd reflection together. The dichotomy between us is stark. My wife is dressed in her business outfit, simple, elegant. I've been out with her, and I know she turns heads when she's dressed like this. I would turn heads for entirely different reason. People would laugh and point at me. I would be mortified if someone saw me like this. I'm mortified that my wife is seeing me like this. ?So this is what you wanted.? ?No ma'am,? I meekly replied. ?But didn't you just beg me to let you dress like a little sissy?? asking the ridiculous looking creature in the mirror. ?Yes ma'am I did,? I humbly reply to the strong elegant woman standing beside the creature. ?Well then, shouldn't you be showing me your gratitude?? I turn away from the absurd scene playing out before me and get on my knees before my powerful wife. My lips once again find their place on her boot. ?Thank you ma'am,? Kiss. ?Thank you ma'am,? Kiss. ?Thank you ma'am.? I can't see, but I'm sure she's staring at the scene playing out before her in the mirror, being both the actress and spectator in the play she's directing. It doesn't take long before my desires begin to once again flood my being, the result of years of conditioning. I don't have any control over the words flowing from my mouth. ?Please, I beg of you, please let me rub my silly little clittie and fuck my pussy. Oh my god, please, please, please. I beg of you. Please I need to rub my silly little clittie so bad.? The words so humiliating to say to my wife, I doubt it can get any worse than this. Humiliation and sexual desire once again surging through my being, becoming me, completing me. After an eternity for me, and maybe 15 seconds for her, she replied with a terse ?No,? and walked away, leaving me kneeling with my face to the floor. I don't know how long I stayed in that position before I finally found the nerve to go downstairs and get a glass of water. Jingling bells made it impossible to try and hide my location. After I drank my water I heard my wife in the living room. ?We need to talk.? ?On the days you go to work you'll just need to put on some lipstick and some powder. Extra points if you put on some eyeliner or eye shadow. When you're home all day you'll be in full makeup. You'll get a monthly clothing allowance. You'll purchase your cosmetics, pantyhose, bra, and socks in person. We don't have a store that caters to sissies like you in our respectable neighborhood so you'll purchase your clothes online.? ?You'll put your sexy underwear and stockings on in the morning, and you'll finish getting dressed when you get home. You'll sleep in negligee.? ?You made a mistake though, you won't be dressed as woman, you'll be dressed like a sissy. You'll purchase the most ridiculous, humiliating clothes you can find...clothes no self respecting woman would ever be caught dead wearing. These will be your uniforms and you will keep them in impeccable condition. You will never be out of uniform unless unless instructed. A torn stocking or a wrinkled or stained dress will be dealt with harshly. Don't ever let me catch you with your makeup needing to be touched up. Your toenails will be painted the same color as mine. You will wear every outfit you own before repeating an outfit.? ?And now for the good part. You will be responsible for all domestic chores, and because of that you'll wear a maximum 3 inch heel during the day unless you're in your sexy little red dress or you're instructed otherwise. In the evenings however you'll need to entice me just like a whore if you want ? She hands me a heavy folded piece of paper. ?I understand submissive little sissies need structure, so here is yours.? I open the folded paper and see that it's a chore schedule.? ?You will work from when you get home until at least 8 o'clock, and your bedtime is 9:30...if all your chores are done. If you get done with your chores early you will work through the items on the as needed list. On Wednesday you'll get changed after you do the yard work and take a shower.? ?You no longer have the privilege of eating with me. You will eat in the kitchen after my dishes have been cleared. At eight o'clock if all your chores are done you may ask me to rub your silly little clittie, but you'll need to entice me, so you should probably get into some hot fuck- me-pumps. Or you may come in and sit at my feet and read one of your new magazines, or you can stand in the kitchen until bedtime.? The first few days were pretty hectic as I tried to get everything completed to my wife's satisfaction while maintaining my appearance. On Friday I put on my sexy red dress and red fuck-me pumps before starting my chores. When my wife came home she told me how hot I looked, however I knew she was mocking me and not complimenting me. Even so, I couldn't help but get turned on by the tone of her voice. She immediately went upstairs and came back down wearing a pair of jeans, black t-shirt, a pair of heavy biker boots, and a brutal strapon. ?Get over here whore!? my wife yells. I stop what I'm doing and I scurry to the living room. My wife starts rubbing the inside of my stocking thigh above my knee, her hand slowly makes it's way above the hem of my dress, pushing my panties into my ass. She turns me toward my old chair and pushes me forward so that I'm laying awkwardly across the arm rests. ?Ass up whore,? she commands. My panties are forcefully pulled down before her oiled cock invades my ass. The noises emanating from me aren't human. The slurping sound from my ass mixes with grunts and screams that I try in vein to squelch . ?Ooohh, it sounds like you're enjoying this whore.? ?You want this don't you slut?? ?Looking so hot and sexy in your little red dress, how could a man resist. The only one reason a slut wears a hot red dress and red fuck-me pumps is because she wants to get fucked.? She brutally pounded me for about five minutes before pulling out and slapping me hard on the ass. ?You're dismissed.? I step out of my panties, pick them up, and walk uneasily to the bathroom, keeping my dress hiked up so it wouldn't get soiled by whatever was dripping out of my ass and down my leg. I caught a glimpse of my wife grinning as she stared at me during my walk of shame...damn she's fucking hot! She used me as her little fuck doll for the rest of the night; I didn't get my chores done until 11 o'clock. I was so fucking exhausted, physically and emotionally. Every time after that whenever I wore my little red dress she would fuck me at least once, but usually more. A couple of weeks later she surprised me with a trip to the Bahamas. We enjoyed a mostly vanilla week of just relaxing on the beach and enjoying ourselves. She even let me make love to her once, like I did so very long ago. It was such an incredible experience for me, as it's been months since I've enjoyed the rights of a husband. Although I must admit the act itself didn't last very long; I just couldn't control myself after being denied for so long. She was very understanding and comforting. When we returned home I grabbed our bags out of the trunk. ?Leave mine here and follow me,? she commands, strutting towards the house. She leads me to the spare room off the garage and stands next to the door. ?Go ahead dear, open it,? looking like a cheshire cat. I slowly open the door and I'm greeted by light pink walls and pink and white curtains, a small white bed complete with a pink and white blanket and pink sheets. A new pink and white dress is laying on the bed. White dresser, nightstand, and a makeup vanity. My perch is mounted in a corner. An infrared wireless camera is mounted in the opposite corner, just below the ceiling. The carpet has been replaced by a white tile floor, a little pink square of four tiles was set midway between the bed and the wall. A small fucia rug sits below the bed, my furry pink sandals in the middle of the rug. A tall pink wooden stool is in the corner. The closet door is open and all my dresses are hanging up. ?My god. Who did this?? I blurt out, terrified of who knows our secret. ?Don't you worry your pretty little head over that dear.? ?But who knows...? Smack. She stops the discussion with a hard slap across my face. ?I don't think you understand sissy, when I say don't worry your pretty little head over something, that means you're not to bring it up ever again. Do you understand now sissy?? ?Yes ma'am.? ?How do you like it?? ?Oh my god...I don't.? ?Ohhh, that's too bad,? she says, in a mocking pouting sort of way. ?This is your new room. Go ahead, step inside,? she commands. I hesitantly step across the threshold into my new room. After I clear the entry my wife reaches in and closes the door. I turn my head and my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach; there's no fucking door knob! And then I got incredibly aroused. I rubbed my burning cheek . There should be a word that describes what it feels like for a man to be smacked across the face by his wife. I looked on the other side of the closet expecting to see my male clothes, but there were only more dresses and woman's shoes. I opened a dresser drawer...panties, another...negligee. I can't believe she's gone this far, I can't believe I've let it go this far. I've got to stop this now. I can't believe how fucking turned on I am. I'm startled by the door swinging open, I turn and feel my face become flush with humiliation, my wife catching me just as I picked up a tube of lipstick...examining my new world. ?What do you have there?? she asks amused. ?Uhh, lipstick ma'am,? I said feeling ashamed. ?Who's lipstick?? she asks with a wry smile, strutting over to me. ?Uhh, I guess my lipstick ma'am,? I say as a wicked smile washes across her face. She forcefully pulls my shirt out of my pants and rips it open, sending buttons flying across the room, exposing the fuchsia chemise my wife ordered me to wear when I got dressed at the hotel this morning. ?I'd say by the way you're dressed you probably would own quite a bit of lipstick.? She takes the lipstick from my fingers and pops the top off, slowly screwing the base. ?Look, it matches your pretty lingerie,? she says as she grabs my cheeks and applies a coat of lipstick. My wife grabs my ear and places me directly in the center of the 4 pink tiles. ?This is your spot when I send you to your room before bedtime. If you get tired of standing you can bring your stool over and sit on it. When you get tired of sitting on the stool you will put it back and resume standing until I call for you. Is that understood?? ?Yes ma'am.? ?Put your bag on your bed, get my bags from the car, get changed, then unpack the bags. Your male clothes go in that room,? pointing to the spare bedroom next to mine, and snapping her finger as she walked away, tossing the lipstick on my makeup tray. I scurried around completing her list of commands. I was mortified going out to her car. I was able to hold my shirt closed while going to the car, but I had no choice but to expose my lingerie when grabbing her bags, and there was no way I could hide my bright pink lips. Thankfully I was able to grab her bags without being seen by the neighbors...I think, I hope. I could hear the bathwater running. After I got dressed I carried the first of her two suitcases up to the bedroom and saw a ?Do Not Disturb? sign hanging from her door handle. Oh my god did that stoke my submissive fires. I placed the rest of her luggage in the hall and began my chores. Long after I heard the sound of the tub draining a surge of electricity burned through my silly little clittie. I dropped what I was doing and scurried up to the bedroom. Upon entering the room my wife yelled ?Get back out in the hall!? My wife then saunters over to the threshold and informs me of some new rules. ?This is now my room and you will always knock before entering. You will even knock if you know I'm not here or if the door is open.? I'm trembling yet incredibly turned on. Her unemotional demeanor was in stark contrast to the flood of emotions coursing through me. ?If you are here because I have beckoned you then you will knock 3 times and say at your service ma'am, and you will wait until I give you permission to enter. If you are here to do your chores you will gently knock 3 times and say maid service ma'am. If you know I'm in the room and I don't respond in 1 minute you will continue with other chores until I leave my room. If you know I'm not in the room you will wait 15 seconds before entering the room. Is that understood?? ?Yes ma'am.? The door is closed in my face. I turn to walk away and a surge of electricity that rips through my silly little clittie stops me dead in my tracks. I quickly turn back and knock 3 times, ?At your service ma'am.? After 10 or so seconds I become fidgety and start looking around. I notice a new camera mounted in the hall pointed at me. ?Eyes front. Stand at attention,? my wife yells as a surge of electricity rips through my tender little clittie. I stand at attention staring at her bedroom door. Time once again coming to a complete stop, giving my creative mind an opportunity to twist and turn the new developments in my life into ever worsening scenarios. I can here her moving around, doing what, I don't have the right to know. After an eternity the word ?Enter,? snaps me out of my trance. I enter her room and stand before the foot of her bed. I find it hard to breath as I stare at my beautiful wife, so very beautiful, so very powerful. She's wearing a white blouse tucked into a brand new pair leather pants, a new pair of boots. She stands before me with her arms folded, allowing me a moment to take in the site before me. A snap of her finger followed by her finger pointing to the ground brings me to my knees. A big part of me wishes I was her equal, wrapping my strong arms around that incredible waist, placing my lips on hers, enjoying an evening out with this incredible woman, and finally ripping those clothes off at the end of the night and fucking her lights out. Then there's another part of me that feels at peace, getting excited, feeding off this, growing ever bigger. She slowly walks over to me and invades my space. The smell of the fresh leather is intoxicating. ?You are about to venture on a journey of a lifetime. You will live out every twisted, kinky fantasy you've ever had...and then some dear,? her hand gently caressing my face. She unlocks my leather collar and slowly walks to her dresser. She grabs a heavy pink leather collar from the drawer and saunters back to me, holding the pink collar before me. A little bell is permanent fixed to the d-ring. ?I think this is a little more befitting of a man in your position,? she says before placing the collar around my neck, followed by the unmistakable sound of a small lock clicking shut. She slowly walked around my kneeling body and stood before me. I felt like I was sinking in so many ways. I felt helpless as my instincts took over and my face dropped to her boots, ?Thank you ma'am.? The sound of a gentle kiss was the only sound in the room. ?Thank you ma'am,? I said as I placed another gentle kiss on her new leather boot. Her boots left my space leaving me feeling abandoned with my face to the floor. I returned to my previous kneeling position with a snap of her finger. She grabs 4 pink leather cuffs and locks, again slowly walks over to me, dropping them on the floor in front of me. ?Put these on. These are a part of your uniform.? I put the cuffs on and locked them as my wife toward over me, staring down at me, making me feel smaller, weaker. ?I also bought you a present,? she says, handing me a small pink box, while holding a similar black box. I pull out a dainty pair of white lace gloves with a bright pink bow. ?Thank you ma'am,? I say, wondering to myself where will this end. After I put on the ridiculous gloves my wife opens her box and pulls out a new pair of black leather gloves that go up to the middle of her forearm. It's amazing how sensual and how powerful a woman can be putting on a pair of leather gloves. She locks a small chain to my wrist cuffs, and locks the chain to my collar. A leash is also clipped to my collar and my wife slowly walks away leaving me no choice but to keep up with her as I scurry behind her on my knees. She stops by her dresser and applies rouge to my cheeks and freshens my lipstick, before continuing her stroll stopping in front of the mirror. Once again I find myself staring at our reflection. I remember once standing here in a suit, both us watching as I kissed her neck while rubbing her breasts through her dress, watching as her chin went up and her eyes closed, knowing I would soon strip her out of that dress and ravish her, take her, make love to her. Now I once again stare at the ridiculous creature and the incredibly beautiful goddess before me. The dichotomy between us greater than the last time; her, more powerful, me.... I don't even know. I looked so fucking absurd; a pink little creature begging like a puppy. We both stared at the image before us, permanently embedding it in my mind...another image that will play over and over again. After she was sure the image was permanently burned into my memory she took a step in front of me and stepped on my leash, jerking my neck down a little. I watched as the creatures head was slowly pulled down. I was amazed how effortlessly it was for my goddess, her gloved hand slowly wrapping the chain around itself. Further and further the creatures head lowered until I could no longer watch the show; all I could see now was carpet and her boot. After the collar was pulled tightly under the sole of her shoe she gave me an order, the tone of which I have never heard before. ?Kiss it.......bitch.? ?Kiss......my fucking.......boot.? I was like a little boy at the carnival that evening. It was exciting, scary, and erotic beyond belief. Pain and pleasure becoming one. My wife did things to me I never thought she was capable of because they would have been too kinky for such a vanilla woman, too cruel for a loving wife. The evening ended with my wife tossing my battered body on my little bed like a rag doll, closing the door hard when she left. The realization strikes me that I can't open my door...and for some reason turns me on. As I lay alone with my pain and my thoughts...my arousal. I can't help but to long for her. I thought of how much more I respected her, feared her, adored her, loved her. Oh my god I started fantasizing about the next time I make love to my incredible wife, the next time I get to... I'm suddenly aware of the leash in my gloved hand. My free hand rubs against my body, the delicate lace rubs against my satin nightie as I think about making love to my beautiful wife. I then curl up into a little ball and begin sobbing as I realize there may not be a next time. The kink and sexuality increased exponentially after that. Her dungeon grew as did my time in it. The more she fed the beast within me the bigger it grew, and the more submissive I became. My fantasies became my reality. Hours in bondage turned to days. The cheap dog cage was soon replaced by a solid steel bondage cage there was no way I was getting out of, until my wife wanted me out. If my wife wanted me out of the way she now thought nothing of locking me in my cage for hours, or even overnight. My wife was quick to understand what she wanted from this new relationship with me. I was immediately enrolled in culinary arts classes at the local community college, after that massage therapy and nail technology classes at a cosmetology school. A room was converted into a well appointed spa where my wife spends hours being pampered by well skilled hands (she still does however, spend considerable time and money at the spa). She spent countless hours correcting defects, real punishments for dirty counter tops or toilets. After spending an hour with my head in a filthy toilet, my ass burning red, I vowed there will never be a dirty toilet in this house again. To me she is a goddess well deserving of such pampering, a woman I love with all my heart and soul - to her I'm useful. The punishments are rare now, the result of very effective training to create a well trained slave. For the next couple of years the only sexual relief I was allowed was by rubbing my silly little clittie. She allowed me 2 to 3 'orgasms' a week, so the last 250 times I masturbated was by rubbing my silly little clittie. I never think of myself masturbating like a man, but rather of me rubbing my little clittie through my little sissy panties. My wife was able to even take the memory of me stroking my cock away from me. To be continued...