The Good Housewife free porn video

He had not seen her in over two years, but he thought about her all the time. She always returned to him when he was alone, which was often. He remembered her smooth skin; her soft, dark hair; her kind face and smile. She had been beautiful in a delicate way. She was not flashy; even before he had ordered her not to put makeup on her porcelain face, she had worn very little of it. She had always dressed plainly, sweetly. Anyone who looked at her would never suspect her dark bedroom secrets. They would look at her and see exactly what she wanted them to see: a lovely, innocent young woman.

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Their arrangement had been their secret. She was only 20 when they first met. She was responding to an ad that he'd posted on Craigslist. He'd kept it short and simple, just as he always did when he was advertising for a new submissive: "Male dom, early 30's, seeks female sub, 18-35. Financial compensation negotiable." She had been desperate for the position, and he had been desperate to fill it. She was a student at the local university, studying Special Education. She had been living in the university dormitories, but at the start of her junior year, she had become shocked with the student loan debt that she was already accumulating. She was not experienced as a submissive; in fact, she barely had any sexual experience at all. But she had admitted that she had a fascination with it. While her motivation was mainly financial, she wanted to give that lifestyle a try.

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He had wanted her instantly. He had already been sitting at a small table in the dark cafe, a frequent spot for students, when she walked in. He had arranged their meeting place so that she would not have far to walk; the girl didn't have a car.

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She had sent him a picture of herself, so he already knew that she was pretty. But the girl who walked in that evening took his breath away. She wore her long, wavy hair in a high ponytail, tied off with a white ribbon. She wore a light pink cardigan sweater, which?stretched tightly around her large, perky breasts,?and a well-fitting,?knee-length denim skirt. He had requested that she dress like a "good girl," and she had done well. She had smiled at him when she saw him watching her in the corner. She came to him. "John?" she asked, smiling but looking uncertain. She would rarely call him by his name over the next couple of years.

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They had spent some time talking, mostly about her current situation. She was a hard-working young woman from a poor family. She was estranged?from her mother, a drug addict, and did not know her father, so she was on her own. She had been working at the public library while attending school, but city budget cuts had cost her the job. That summer, she had been living on campus and working as a housekeeper in the dorms when they hosted sports teams in training or people attending orientation. It had given her a free place to live for the summer, but she explained that she was finding herself in a financial bind.

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"I'm in the third year of my program, and that requires me to spend a lot of time in the local schools as well as in my regular classes," she said. Because of this, she had not been able to find a job. If she wanted to eat regularly, she would have to do something. "And that's why I'm here," she concluded.

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He had considered her thoughtfully. "You're not experienced in this?" he asked her after a moment.

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She shook her head. "No. But I'm a fast learner," she said, looking hopeful.

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He knew he wanted her. He wanted her that night. So he insisted that they have a trial run. "Come with me tonight," he proposed. "You can spend the night with me, and I can show you exactly what I'd expect from you in this arrangement."

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She had reluctantly agreed to ride with him back to his large house on the outskirts of the mountain town. He had taken her into his neat, plain home, and had taken her to his basement, where he kept his toys. He'd tested her, not pushing her too far. He restrained her, lightly whipped her, and had his way with her twice. When he'd strapped her to the mattress with her legs spread wide, she'd looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear and excitement. She looked like a child on her first rollercoaster. She was thrilled...and she was thrilling.

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He would have much to teach her, as she was quite an inexperienced lover. But she was eager to learn, eager to please, and that was exactly what he needed.

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She would come to live with him for her remaining time in school. He would take care of all of her expenses, an arrangement that he always made with live-in subs. She would attend her classes and deal with her responsibilities during the day, but she would also need to keep house for him...and attend to any and all of his sexual desires.

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He had also agreed to pay off all of her student loan debt after she had graduated. He had surprised himself with this arrangement. She would be the most expensive girl he'd ever had. But he somehow felt that it would be worth it. He'd never been so attracted to any girl before.

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She had a soft speaking voice, and she was always calm, always smiling. She fascinated him. She always seemed so controlled, so poised. Yet she eagerly handed her control over to him in the bedroom (and in almost every other room in the house, to be perfectly honest). She was always up for anything, and he pushed her. He was always searching for new ways to torment her; she loved it when he locked her in a small cage for a weekend, taking her out only to fuck her roughly on the floor. He would send her off to her classes or her in-school observations with some secret accessories: nipple clamps that were hidden under her large bra, a large dildo strapped around her waist and inserted into her asshole, a chastity belt that squeezed at her clitoris with every small movement. She told him that she enjoyed these small tortures; she was turned on by having to keep her composure while being sexually aroused.

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She was, by far, the best he'd ever had. Every morning, he woke up looking forward to eating breakfast with her (which she always made for him, like a good little house-slave), having her suck his cock or take it in her ass in the shower, picking her clothes out for the day, and driving her to the campus. He would always send her to school looking sweet and innocent. She already had a wardrobe of little sweaters and modest-length skirts, and he purchased a few more things for her, as she protested. He enjoyed buying things for her: clothing and shoes, sex toys, lingerie. Upon her arrival at his home, he threw away all of her undergarments and took her shopping. He made her try on the bras and underwear for him at the department stores, sitting with her in the dressing room as she modeled for him. He remembered the flush of her cheeks as he took her by the hand and walked with her past the dressing room attendant, who had said nothing. He enjoyed?embarrassing her in the public like that, just a little bit. He would never subject her to any real humiliation. Unlike some of his others subs, who would slut around in public with tiny skirts and tall shoes, he wanted this girl all to himself.

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He realized the truth after a year of their arrangement. He was in love with her. Sometimes, he didn't want to treat her like his sub. He wanted to romance her. He would take her out for an expensive meal, in an expensive dress that he had allowed her to purchase. He would bring her home and make love to her in their bed. No restraints, gags, blindfolds, or toys. Just her naked body beneath his, in their candlelit bedroom. He had not had a girl like this since his first girlfriend, who had broken his heart.

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But this sweet girl...she was special, and he knew it. He hoped that, when their agreement came to an end, she would decide to stay with him voluntarily, becoming his sub and his wife.

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He never told her this.

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During the last few months of their agreement, she was student teaching at a local elementary school. He would take her to school in the morning, and she would get a ride home from another student teacher. He had offered to buy her a car, but she had adamantly refused him. Though he often pushed his generosity on her through his dominant position, he felt that it would be best not to push this matter. He allowed her to maintain some of her pride.

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He did not know that she was applying for jobs for the next school year. Looking back, he should have known. What was she going to school for, anyway? To become a schoolteacher.

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She announced to him, a week before her graduation (and the end of their agreement) that she had been hired at an elementary school in the city, about two hours south of their mountain town.

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He had been furious, but he had tried very hard not to show it. He had congratulated her. Then, he had taken out his rage on her in the cellar and in the bedroom over the next few days. He punished her like he never had before. "I don't have much time left with you, slave, so I'm going to get my fill," he'd snarled in her ear as she dangled, chained, from the ceiling in the cellar. He had proceeded to give her ass a punishment with a riding crop and with his cock. That week, he left bruises on her in places where he'd never laid a harsh hand. He fucked her like a whore.

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He knew that she did not like some of the overtly rough treatment. She must have known that he was upset about her leaving. The day after her graduation, she packed her bags (she had tried to leave the clothing that he'd purchased for her, but he'd insisted that she take it), got into a taxi, and went to the Greyhound station. He wouldn't even see her off. And he had not seen her since.

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He missed her all the time. He had heard little of her the last two years, and the small bit that he did hear was upsetting. And now, he was driving two hours to a warm city suburb to see her.

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He had dressed carefully, as always, and he checked himself once more in the rearview mirror of his black BMW after he'd pulled up to the curb outside of her house. She lived in a modest ranch-style home, adobe like the other houses in the neighborhood. The yard was small, grassless, but carefully landscaped, with a stone fountain. A new Honda sat in the driveway. She wasn't living too badly.

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He pulled on his designer sunglasses (remembering that she had picked them out for him) and climbed out his car. He straightened his button-down shirt and the crease of his black dress pants, and walked up the stone pathway to the front door. He knocked.

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She answered, almost right away, and she looked beautiful. Her hair was only a little shorter, just touching her shoulders, and she still wore it wavy and clipped back in the front. She was wearing a thin-strapped yellow-print sundress, with a low V-neck that showed off just the tiniest hint of her generous cleavage. Her skin was as creamy as ever, in spite of the glaring sun and heat of her new hometown; she had obviously been taking care of herself. She was wearing simple gold earrings, and a necklace with a hummingbird charm.

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He thought he could see tears in her eyes. "Hi," she said, smiling but looking very nervous.

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"Hello, Anna," he said. "How are you?"

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"I'm fine, John. How are you?"

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"Well," he said, smiling a little, "I'm a little worn out from the drive and from the heat, but I'm very glad to see you."

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"Please," she said, "come in." She led him into her cool, open living room. Her house was decorated in a way that was modern, yet classic. It was very much her. She gestured to a large leather couch. "Sit down, please. Would you like anything to drink?"

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"What do you have?"

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She smiled. "I bought you a six-pack of Double Diamond."

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He eyed her. "Really?" She nodded. "Then of course I'll take one, please." She nodded and went off to the kitchen, located just around the corner from the living room in which he sat. He could hear her get into the refrigerator, the slight clink of the glass bottles hitting one another, and he could hear her expertly removing the cap before returning it to him, with a coaster.

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She sat the beer and the coaster down on the small table next to the couch, and she smiled at him as he lifted the bottle for a drink. He paused and looked at her. "Anna?"

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"Yes, John?"

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"Where is your drink?"

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Her cheeks flushed; she looked mortified. "Oh!" she said. "Hold on, I'll be right back..."

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He smiled to himself. She had reverted back to a behavior from their time together. She had enjoyed waiting on him while he was home, and so he insisted upon it. She would always offer him something to eat and drink first, and would never get anything for herself until he told her to. She had forgotten, for a moment, that she was in her own home.

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He could see her wearing little cocktail dresses and playing hostess. She had enjoyed the little housewifely things, so he had her help him with a dinner party for the firm partners and their spouses. She had been so charming, serving fancy little hors d’oeuvres that she'd made herself, smiling and pouring champagne. The senior partner of the law firm for which he was little more than an associate had said to him, on his way out the door with his much-younger wife, "I like that girlfriend of yours. You better hang on to her, son."

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But he had not. And now, she was smiling in her living room, sipping a beer, and being someone else's housewife.

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He noticed the simple gold wedding band on her finger, and the quality (but modest) diamond ring beside it. He had heard of her wedding in a newspaper announcement. He had to admit that he did not come upon it by accident. Every week or so, he would search her name on the city's newspaper websites, in case there was anything about her there. He had read the article that announced her as the new special education instructor for grades K-3 at one of the city's hundreds of elementary schools, but had seen nothing else in his searches for nearly a year.

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Then, the wedding announcement. She had been wearing a lovely strapless dress, her dark hair tied back in an elegant chignon. Her husband was a lean man, and very tall. Dr. Mark Bernstein, an intern at the university hospital,?and his little trophy wife. He had printed off the announcement, and kept it in the top drawer of his desk.

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He looked at her now, looking so much like he remembered. But different, in a way. A little bit tired. A little bit beaten.

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No, not by her husband. He could sense that her husband did not dominate her in any sort of way.?There was?something else that had happened to her, something tragic.

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But she was smiling now, and she looked so pretty, he had to smile back at her, in spite of his misgivings. "Can I get you anything to eat?" she asked. "I made the sugarcane shrimp skewers that you always liked."

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"You didn't!" He was surprised by her hospitality. That was one hors d’oeuvres that she had made for the dinner party she'd hosted for him. He'd liked them so much, he'd had her make another batch just for them to share in the bedroom when the party was over.

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She nodded, biting her lower lip. "I'd love to have some. Thank you, Anna." She went back to the kitchen and returned with the platter of the sweet and hot shrimp, and they ate some of them together, sitting comfortably on her leather couch.

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They were hardly speaking. He had to break the silence. "Anna," he said. She looked at him expectantly. "Why did you ask me here today?"

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For a moment, he wondered if she planned to drug him and take revenge on him for being so brutal with her before they parted. But vengeance was not her MO. She looked sad for a moment. "I suppose you heard about...what happened," she said quietly.

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"Yes, I did." He took her by the hand. "I'm sorry, Anna."

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The third newspaper article featuring Anna's name was an obituary. Just a couple of months ago, she had given birth to a small baby girl. The baby only lived for a few hours.

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He had cried for her when he read the article. And even though she was pretty, and smiling, he could tell that losing her baby had torn her apart.

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With tears in her eyes, she said, "I've been thinking lately about what's important, you know?" She smiled a little. "I even got in touch with my mom." During their time together, she had told him about her strained relationship with her mother, a drug abuser who had idly sat by while her daughter was abused by her strung-out boyfriends.

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"That's good." He had encouraged her to talk to her mother. But he had tried to stay out of it when she was with him. He didn't want to upset her. He didn't know all of the details of her sordid past, but he knew enough to realize that she'd had a very difficult childhood. That was not exactly something that he could relate to, though he had faced his own share of difficulties.

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She nodded. "We're not, like, making plans for Thanksgiving or anything, but we did put a lot out on the table. It was good." She gave him a weak smile. "So, you know, since I've been trying to fix some things in my life, I thought I'd get in touch with you."

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"Okay," he said. He waited for her to continue.

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"I, uh," she started nervously. He took her carefully by the hand, and she did not pull away. She looked at him, and he gave her an encouraging smile. "I still feel badly about how things ended with us."

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"What do you mean, Anna?"

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"I know what you wanted me to do," she said, her voice hushed. "I know that I hurt you, by leaving like I did. I'm sorry, John. I'm so sorry."

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He was startled to see tears running down her face. "Anna, my dear," he said lovingly, "I don't want you to be upset about that. You've had so much to deal with since then --"

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"I can't help but feel," she said, "like everything bad that's happened is because of how I treated you. I treated you so badly, John. I didn't want to let myself realize that. I tried to just forget about it. But it's true."

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"Anna," he said, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. "You didn't do anything wrong. We had an agreement, don't you remember? And you fulfilled your end of the agreement...you most certainly did. Our agreement was finished, and you went on with your life. I don't see where you did anything wrong."

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"I didn't take your feelings into consideration," she said. "You...you wanted me to stay, didn't you?"

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He didn't say anything for a moment. He hadn't even been sure if she'd known it. He nodded.

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"And I guess I knew that," she admitted. "I wouldn't let myself know it, though. I kept telling myself,?you wanted me for two years. Two years is up. I have a job now. Time to move along. And that's what I did." She shook her head. She looked at him. "I had this vision in my head of what my life should be like. And I was starting to make it happen. I had a job in a nice suburb; I met Mark, who was very sweet to me, and we got married; we bought this house; and we were starting our family. I mean," she said, looking at him carefully, "I really felt like it was all coming together. But after our baby died, I realized...it was a house of cards. It's been falling apart."

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"And you blame the fact that you walked out on me," he said steadily. He wasn't trying to accuse her. He was trying to lead her to her point.

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She shook her head. "I didn't think that the life that we had...the life that we enjoyed together...had a place with the life that I imagined. I couldn't see it. And I wanted that life so bad, John. The life that I never had growing up. I thought I was almost there." She became choked up. She did not sob, but she did excuse herself for a moment and walk down the hall; he guessed her to be in the bathroom.

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He patiently waited for her. He felt badly for her. She was miserable. He didn't want to see her that way, even after she left him and broke his heart. For which she had just apologized.

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He knew what he needed to do to make her happy again. He smiled to himself at the thought. It would be a dream come true, to have her back in his life. Their separation had been foolish. He would no longer be dishonest with her about what he wanted from her.

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She came out of the bathroom after a couple of minutes. Her eyes were red-rimmed and shiny with tears, but she was smiling, and he thought she'd never looked more beautiful. He stood and wrapped her in a tight embrace. She put her head on his chest, and he held her for a minute.

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When he released her, he said, "Anna, I would love to see the rest of your house."

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She looked at him carefully; she knew exactly what he wanted. She smiled a little. "Yes, sir," she said, taking him by the hand. She led him past the kitchen and down the hallway, to the room on the end, to the left.

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The bedroom was plain, and reminded him much of his own. King-sized bed with solid yellow sheets and a white duvet cover. White dresser drawers. Pictures in frames on top of the drawers. Lacy curtains. He wondered if his own bedroom (decorated in darker,?more demure colors) had been the inspiration for this. He had explained to her once?that a plain, neat bedroom served to relax you while you're supposed to be relaxing. She seemed to have bought into it.

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He went to the table next to the bed and picked up a framed photo. It was Anna and her husband, the young Dr. Mark Bernstein, on their wedding day. They were cutting the cake. She was grinning, looking so radiantly happy in her wedding dress. He took a moment to examine her husband. He wasn't an ugly man, but he was very plain. Dull. Just looking at him, he could tell that this man could not satisfy all of Anna's needs. And she certainly had a lot of needs to fulfill.

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He felt certain that he could fulfill them himself, and he was ready to prove it to her. He set the picture on the table, turning it around. He sat on the bed. Anna stood before him, looking nervous. "When would your husband be expected?" he asked.

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"He's working an overnight shift at the ICU tonight," she said. "The earliest he'd be home would be 8 tomorrow."

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He smiled. "We've plenty of time then, haven't we, my dear?"

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"Yes, sir."

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He patted his knee slowly. "Sit, please."

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"Yes, sir." She smiled shyly and came to him, sitting on his knee. He couldn't be sure, but he could swear that she wasn't wearing any panties under her sweet dress. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her bare shoulder.

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"I have missed you very much, Anna," he said. "I think of you all the time. I was never angry with you for leaving me like you did. But I have been angry at myself...for not giving you enough reasons to stay with me." He touched her face. "I always loved you, and I still do," he said. "If you could let me, I would make you so happy. Tell me what you want, and I will give it to you. Anything."

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"I want to be a mother," she said quietly. "I think I'd be a good mother, don't you?"

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"Yes, I do," he said. "You'd be the best mother."

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"He blames me," she said quietly. "He thinks I didn't take care of myself when I was pregnant."

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"Did he say that to you?" he asked. It made him furious to think of anyone saying something that cruel to her.

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She shook her head. "No, sir. I could just feel it. I know I'm not imagining it. He hates me."

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"Do you love your husband, Anna?" he asked. He had to know. He didn't think he could take things any further if she had feelings for the man.

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But she shook her head. "No, sir," she said. "I thought I did...I was wrong."

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"Then you mustn't feel badly," he said. "You have me. I love you, Anna."

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"I love you, too, sir," she said, and he kissed her softly, groping her breasts. He would have her...she would be his again, for the rest of their lives. He wanted her right then, right that second. But she said, "Sir...would you allow me to have children?"

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He smiled. "You may have as many of my children as you want, my dear. I would be honored."

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"Could I still be a good mother, and still...satisfy you?" she asked. That had been her point of contention all along. Could a good little house-slave be a good mommy, too?

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He kissed her again, briefly. "Yes," he said. "We will find a way to make it all work. All I want is to make you happy, my dear. Will you give me a chance to make you happy?"

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"Yes, sir," she said, and he began to remove her dress.

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He had her on her husband's bed. He tied her to the bedposts (he was so grateful that they had a four-poster bed, just like the one he had at home) using some of her husband's ties. He imagined that the intern doctor would still be wearing scrubs to work. He debated with himself briefly about gagging her; he wondered if they had a gag in their closet. But when he asked her about it, she said, "No, sir."

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He caressed her bare nipple. Not only had she not been wearing underwear, she hadn't even been wearing a bra. She looked so lean and toned, in spite of the fact that she had just carried a baby to term only a couple of months before. She would later tell him that she had stopped working and had spent her days running and doing yoga and drinking weird juice confections since the baby had died. Though he liked the result, he didn't think that the ends justified the means. He would fatten her up a bit, he decided.

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"Your husband never satisfied you, did he, my dear?" he asked.

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"No, sir."

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"Did you ever tell him how you like to be dominated in the bedroom?" he asked, giving her nipple a gentle, affectionate squeeze.

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"Yes, sir," she said. "I...I tried to. He became really uncomfortable."

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He began to tease the lips of her vagina, brushing lightly against her clitoris, but not quite touching her, not quite. "You've had to pleasure yourself a lot over the last two years, haven't you, my dear?" he asked.

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She sounded a little breathless as she said, "Yes, sir."

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"What did you think about while you were touching yourself?" he asked.

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"I thought of you, sir," she said, without hesitation, and he smiled. That was just what he wanted, needed, to hear.

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"It's going to be a long time before I let you touch yourself again," he said quietly, and he began to fondle her clitoris. She gasped at his rough handling. "You must be punished for leaving me, Anna. But I promise you, my dear, you will enjoy your punishment." He gave her a smile before plunging his face into her pussy. His tongue explored her, savoring her juices, sucking greedily. He nibbled on her clitoris, and he could feel her tremble wildly. He had always been able to make her come repeatedly; even he was amazed at the amount of control that he had over her body. He gave her three orgasms in rapid succession, one of them making her scream aloud. He was glad that he had not gagged her; he wanted her neighbors to hear that a stranger in a BMW was giving young Mrs. Bernstein the climax of her life.

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When he finally came up for some air, she was panting in her restraints, sweat glistening on her brow and on her breasts. He felt her pussy juices all over his face. While she caught her breath, he went to wipe himself clean before continuing with her.

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When he returned, she smiled up at him. "Thank you, sir," she whispered.

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"You're welcome, my dear," he said affectionately. "You know that we are not through yet, don't you?"

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"Yes, sir," she said, and she looked eager for what was to come.

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He stood naked before her, handling his cock to hardness. "I haven't been with anyone since our last time together," he said. "I have only wanted you. You don't know how special this moment is to me, Anna."

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"Fuck me, sir," she said, whispering. "I want you. You're the only man who has?ever made me come. I don't want any other man, ever."

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"I'm right here, Anna," he said. His cock was hard now; her praise had gotten him ready for her. He placed the tip of his penis at the wet lips of her spread vagina. He wondered briefly if, after giving birth, she would not be as tight as he remembered. He plunged himself into her, making her gasp softly. He was pleased to find that she was just as tight as ever. He fucked her deeply, but slowly. He touched her face as he drove himself into her as deeply as he could. He made her come again, only a few seconds before he released into her. They used to be synchronized...he figured a few seconds off wasn't too bad after a couple of years, and they would quickly find their footing again.

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He lay with her for a moment, tingling in the afterglow of his orgasm. Neither of them spoke. He just lay with her, thinking of the delights that the future would bring. They were truly going to be together.

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He figured that, since her husband wouldn't be home for many hours, they might as well enjoy a little quality time together before executing a plan. They took a shower together, and she smiled as she went down on her knees, teasing his cock to stiffness once again, before blowing him in the steam, just like she used to at home. Just like she would nearly every day for many years to come.

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He toweled her off, and he picked out a pretty dress for her to wear. He picked for her a high neck purple dress, with sleeves to the elbow, a hem that went down past her knees, and a belted waist. It was a feminine but very modest dress, and he thought she looked gorgeous in it. He wanted her to always be modest, except when they were alone together. Her little sundress from that afternoon would need a little sweater to cover her shoulders to be acceptable in public. He couldn't wait to dress her every day again.

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He allowed her to iron his shirt and slacks, which he had hastily thrown to the floor in his lust. He sat in his boxer-briefs on the bed and smiled at her, watching her iron his clothing. She looked so happy. His delicious little housewife.

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After he dressed, she led him back into the dining area. A table set for six stood in the little dining nook next to the kitchen. He sat at the table while she got him another beer. He made sure to say, "You may get one for yourself," so that she would sit and have a drink with him.

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They sat at the table, and he explained his plan, their new arrangement. "You will come with me tonight," he said. "I will hire a lawyer for you. The entire divorce should be settled very quickly, since you will be asking for no money, nothing."

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"Yes, sir."

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"You may look for a job in the area, if you like," he said. "I know that the teaching?jobs in town are few and far between, but you may substitute teach for a while, if you'd like. Or you can get some other type of work. Or you can stay home. You may do anything that you like, during the hours of the day that I am working. But you must make yourself available to me from 6 in the evening to 6 in the morning...are you willing to do that, my dear?"

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"Yes, sir." She looked excited at the thought. He wondered what sort of work she would do. He hoped she could find a teaching job. He knew that she had not signed a contract for the next school year, and it was already the end of July. He knew that it would make her happy to have a job.

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"You will still be responsible for your household duties, just like you were when we had our prior arrangement," he said. "Do you wish to jettison any responsibilities?"

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"No, sir," she said. He smiled; she seemed to get a real joy out of serving him.

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"Now," he said, "You want to have children. I am going to ask that you allow us two years without children...two years to get used to our new lives and enjoy each other. Within those two years, I will marry you. When the two years are up, if you are ready to begin having children, then we will begin. Do you have any issue with this?"

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She looked thoughtful for a moment, then she shook her head. He was relieved. He wanted to give her the world. He wanted her to be the mother of his children. But he wanted to have her all to himself for a little longer. He had been without her for so long, he felt like they had much to make up for.

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He could not resist her. After they had agreed to the terms of their new, permanent arrangement, he fucked her right on the table. The dining nook looked out over the backyard. The curtains to the glass doors were not drawn, and he hoped that some neighbors spotted them.

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He did not even remove her pretty dress. He pulled up the skirt to expose her bare pussy (she was not wearing any underwear, again; she would rarely wear any underwear for many years to come), and zipped down his own pants. He fucked her roughly, holding her wrists to the table and plowing into her. She liked being treated roughly, to a certain extent, and he knew that she loved when he violated her. She would put in a bit of resistance, and he would fight her, holding her wrists so hard that he would leave faint?bruises on her delicate white skin.

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When he finished with her, she stood up and straightened her skirt. "Shall I pack now, sir?" she asked.

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"Yes," he said. "You may pack one suitcase of clothing. I will choose what you will take. You need nothing else."

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"Yes, sir." She led him back to her bedroom, and sat on the bed as he went through her closet. He picked out a few pretty, modest dresses and skirts, some little sweaters (her style had not changed, though the clothing that she bought for herself now?were better quality than what she used to be able to afford), and a couple of pairs of shoes. He did not allow her to pack any of her undergarments. He planned to take her shopping, again, for an entire new wardrobe of bras and other slutty little things. It turned him on to think of her in her simple, pretty clothes, hiding her sexy secret just for him.

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He folded and packed the clothing for her while she sat and quietly watched. "I'm going to take this out to the car," he said. "I'd like you to leave a brief note for your husband. I want us to be out of here in the next fifteen minutes."

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"Yes, sir." He carried her suitcase to the BMW, putting it in the trunk. He did not see any neighbors watching him, but he again hoped that someone would spot them leaving. It gave him a thrill to be stealing someone else's wife. The fact that she was Anna, the woman that he loved more than his life, made it all the more exciting.

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He went back into the house, not even knocking, as though he owned the place. He found Anna at the table, the same one on which they'd just had sex, drafting a short note. He picked it up and read it:

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"Dear Mark,

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I don't think we need to continue to ruin each other's lives. I have left, and I won't be back. A lawyer will be in touch to arrange our divorce. I don't want or need anything from you, Mark. I have no hard feelings toward you, and I sincerely wish you all the best.

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Love, Anna."

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"Very to the point," he said, putting the note back on the table. "Is there anything that you'd like to do before we go?"

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She shook her head. "No, sir."

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"Then let's go." He led her out of the house. She used her house key to lock the front door, then hid the key under the welcome mat. When they reached the BMW, he opened up the backseat. "Climb in and crouch on the seat," he instructed. She smiled as she did as she was told, crouching on the seat with her back to him. "Put your hands behind your back," he said, and she obeyed. He took a roll of duct tape from the glove compartment and tore off a long strip. He taped her wrists together behind her back, then did the same to her ankles. He took off her high-heeled purple shoes and placed them on the floor.

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He turned her to face him and kissed her roughly. "This is your last chance to change your mind," he said. "Do you still want to go with me?"

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She smiled. "Yes, sir," she said insistently. He kissed her again, then placed a piece of tape over her beautiful lips.

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"Lay here quietly," he instructed her. "I need to think about how I'm going to punish you when we get home." Her eyes were wide, and it made him think of the first time he'd made love to her in his basement. She looked so scared and so excited. He realized that they were beginning a new, very happy chapter in their lives. He smiled as he helped to position her on her side, so that she was not lying on her hands. He got into the front seat, and adjusted his rearview mirror so that he could look back at her, lying bound and gagged on the seat. He smiled again as he started the car, cranking the air conditioning.?

He smiled to himself, humming softly along with the loud music that blasted through his speakers, as he drove his BMW away from the city and into the open desert. The sun was setting to his left; on his right, the mountain and valley were dark. He couldn’t wait to get home and start his new life with his favorite slave. She was his again, all his, and she would be his for the rest of their lives.