Mme Moreau
- 2 years ago
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An Imposition No More Part 3 free porn video
AN IMPOSITION NO MORE PART 3
Sleazy Blonde, 2021
I loved his sunflower tattoo.
He may not have. He did whine when he went to get it. He did whine when
he got home afterward. He did whine every time he sat down for a few
days. He excelled at whining.
I said nothing to him. I didn't even ask to look at it. I expressed no
interest in it. To his constant questions, I merely replied, "Not right
now. In a couple of days. Could you pass the soup please?" My
indifference was his torment.
The few times I even referred to it were drawn in a manner to evidence
contempt, disdain, and belittlement.
"What sort of man gets a flower tattooed on his asshole?" I asked
tauntingly.
"My weak, flaccid, sissy-loving, tiny man who likes it when his wife
puts her fist up his ass. That's who gets a flower tat on his ass!" It
was too easy to mock him now. I occasionally threw out a quick "Sunny"
when I wanted to grab his attention. It never failed to make him blush.
One day --- it must have been at least ten days after the ink dried ---
I said to him out of the blue in the kitchen, "Now! Two enemas. Twenty
minutes. Be back here. Move!" I grinned at him and swatted his cute
little ass. He weighs 150 pounds, is as hairy as a chimp, and is built
like a monkey; but he loves hearing of his cute little ass. He
scampered away.
I was glad to have given him a few days ago a laser hair remover for
personal use. Online shopping is phenomenal. Everything is available
quicker than you can shake a stick at it. "Here. You can use this." I
never said anything more about it until I noticed that he had in fact
used it. His chest was perfectly hairless now. Oh my gawd: he looked
stupid.
"Where is your pink laser?" I asked. He dashed off and returned and
gave it to me.
"Now! All fours!" I rarely used my command voice but, when I did, it
was doubly effective.
He was naked on the kitchen floor in a heartbeat.
"I do not want to hear your voice," I whispered in a tone of
intolerance.
I hooked up the laser device.
"That's a very pretty flower, little boy," I said in my playful voice.
Fucker. He just doesn't get it. He's on all fours hoping for a jerk-off
and I'm staring at a big, bright, yellow sunflower inked in permanently
around his asshole. What a fucking loser.
I turned the laser device on.
"Does wittle Jewwi want his cum-cum?"
He nodded his head vigorously. He knew better than to talk.
I stared at his asshole, his perineum, and his scrotum. The tattoo
artist had done a rough shave around his hole, sufficient enough for
the needle and ink but insufficient for my current purposes.
"Does my wittle Jewwi want his hair gone from his naughty places?"
His head swiveled quickly, and his eyes locked onto mine. I kept my
face implacable. He would crack. His character couldn't stand silence.
He had to fill it in.
"That was just for my chest," he whispered in disbelief.
I tenderly grabbed his ballsac and softly caressed it.
"You want cummies, you lose hair there." And then I squeezed his balls
super hard. "And I said I don't want to hear your voice." And I resumed
sweetly feeling his balls and their sac.
"You want cummies, yes?" I toyed with his hole.
"You really want Mistress to give you cummies, yes?" I ran my
fingernails along the length of his imprisoned cock. Idiot. Pathetic
idiot.
"Not permanent, please." His voice wavered.
"You will get what Mistress wants." I dug my fingernails deep into his
sac.
He silently nodded. I adjusted myself and directed the device to his
perineum. There I began. Ten minutes later, the first treatment was
completed. It left some small rashing on his asshole; but that could
have been the aftereffects of the tattooing. I loved his super smooth
perineum now. And the posterior of his scrotum was baby soft. And no
more threads of filthy hair flailing themselves around his rectum.
He endured it all in the silence I had non-confrontationally expected
of him.
"You want cummies?"
"Yes, Mistress!"
"Well, then. Upstairs. Bed. Cuffs. No gag. Instead, suck on this dildo
until you come! Get going!" I fondly slapped his ass as he swished
away. I don't think he had expected to see a 10 inch pink dildo. I
don't think I could recall washing it after my last use.
Yes, I used it. Look at his little, tiny thing. Then look at the dildo.
Of course, I used it! I fingered the keychain around my neck. He's
growing more and more contemptable everyday. What did I ever see in
him?
This is where his life is: he only cums when I say "cum"; he never cums
without me; I let him cum only when my arm is shoved up his ass and my
hand has just in that moment ceased to touch his cock. He's got an
enormous sunflower tattooed around his asshole; the staff will laugh if
he gets a colonoscopy! His groin is now hairless which stands out like
a sore thumb on this man --- supposed man --- of Mediterranean
extraction.
His breathing increased its pace. I went up to my elbow; he didn't
complain. I thrust the vibrator in and out robotically; he didn't
complain. I took the dildo from his mouth, plunged it into his asshole
maniacally; he didn't complain. My arm went back in, my punching
continued unabated, and I unlocked his cage. I stroked him.
"You and I are destined to be together, Jerri," I said as I thrust
faster.
"You will obey me and only cum when I say so, Jerri," I commanded him
as I tugged harder.
"Cum now! Right now! Jerri! Cum NOW!!!!" I shouted. He exploded. I
watched in amazement.
There is a such fleeting moments an insight to be seen, an inwardness
that gets exposed; it's there, briefly, as the orgasms rise and ascend
--- right there! that moment! --- and I saw his.
Jerrie was happy. Frankly, it made me feel happy seeing him happy.
And then I refocused my vision. Jeremy, my husband, on all fours,
cuffed, spread, a gigantic sunflower tattooed on his asshole, laser
hair removal on his groin --- and more to follow later; my right
forearm glistening with lube and Vaseline and oil and slippery... shit;
his puny cock just out of his voluntarily encagement and repressed,
cum-dripping from its flaccid flesh.
What exactly was I happy about?
I had lost my husband. Yes, yes, yes: I know we're still legally
married.
But really! This flake gets off having me shove my arm up his ass and
calling him sissy names! Fucking loser. He may be fun to have around.
He may be a great companion and person in whom I can confide. He may
comfort me when I feel down. But no man wants his wife to shove her arm
up his ass! And no wife could reasonably see a husband within a man who
espouses such wishes.
So, was I happy?
Yep, I gained something too. True, my marriage had evolved. True, I
could not and would never again look at Jeremy as a man. Some would see
loss.
Yet, dear reader, I saw gain. I was realizing a new me, a younger more
confident woman than I had ever known. I felt STRONG! I felt FREE! I
felt POWERFUL! And when I now looked at Jeremy aka Jerri aka sissy
faggot ass-fisting loser, I felt a sense of responsibility toward this
sub, this submissive, this weakling, this lesser man, a sense of
responsibility more profound and reaching than I had ever felt toward
my useless but kind husband.
And that's when I knew it; I was no longer married to my husband;
rather, I was dominating my own personal sub.
My sub. And that's a very strong feeling. I wonder where it will take
me?
finito
Makenna
- 17.03.2022
- 8
- 0
