Mme Moreau
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An Imposition No More Part 4 free porn video
AN IMPOSITION NO MORE PART 4
Sleazy Blonde, 2021
I will summarize the past several weeks for you, dear reader.
First, after incessantly pestering me to give him a prostate massage,
my husband Jeremy finally succeeds; I acquiesce and discover that I've
lost some respect for him. Second, he buys and willingly attaches a
chastity cage to his puny cock and then agrees to not cum except when I
permit him. And to get a sunflower tattoo on his asshole. Third, the
idiot allows me, indeed encourages me to remove the hair from his hairy
groin using a laser hair remover.
Last, I feel flushed with energy and zip. There's a new spring in my
step which I had not had before this journey began. He listened to me
more. He responded more quickly to my requests. He was noticeably much
more attentive and considerate. My recognition grew to the point of
unalterable fact; he would do what I told him to do ---
unquestioningly.
And I rather liked this. The days of endless discussion to determine
whether we purchase 12 or 8 place settings? Gone. "Twelve", I ordained.
He carried them all to the car. Similarly groceries, housecleaning,
yard-work, everything! Unending nattering about "compromise" and
"equality"? Gone.
I managed his enthusiasm. I let his little boy out of its tiny cage
every third or fourth day. Most days I would permit him a "Big O" as he
called them. I was really good by now at delivering a hands-free
climax. Nothing on his cock; just a steady, steady, steady in-and-out
of my fist and arm up his ass. A little slapping or caning and my
little boy got satisfied. He could perform on demand as well now with
the foot-long vibrator and the long, thick dildo.
But I started to feel overlooked, empty. Literally empty: I hadn't had
a cock in me for going on four months now. I didn't miss it
specifically, but I definitely missed the close bodily warmth, the
muscles flexing, the limbs bending, and the flesh comforting. Hands
cupping my shoulders as my groin bore down on a steely cock. Nope: not
in my life right now.
Thus, not for the first time, there began in me the stewing of a
resentment. I'm in my twenties. Late twenties to be sure but I'm not
over 30 yet! These are my prime sex years and they're being wasted upon
this... this prostate orgasm obsessed loser.
My university years had not been wasted. I excelled at research. I went
online and quickly found a solution to my emptiness. I purchased a
unique strap-on: it had one big dildo with which I could fuck my
husband up his ass (yes! I just wrote that, and it makes his position
in life sound even more pathetic) and two smaller dildos on the inside
to be inserted into my two empty holes. And all three vibrated!
I wonder if he'll say anything.
I recently told him to go buy a nice, medium-sized butt plug for
everyday wear. He said nothing but he did purchase it. I told him to
put it in. He said nothing but he did put it in. He never says anything
about the innumerable little steps by which I am mincing him toward...
I don't know what.
Panties everyday. Chastity everyday. Butt plug everyday. Sunflower: ah,
growing where the sun don't shine! No intercourse. Hand jobs sometimes.
Fist fucking almost all the time. Vibrators. Dildos. Depilation. Dildo
sucking. Caning. Spanking. Whipping. Compulsory cunnilingus (for hours
and hours! whoosh!).
Not a peep from my sheep! Is this what I wanted though? I shudder
thinking of our wedding photos (trust me: I had stored them weeks ago).
That tall, lanky man standing handsomely in his tuxedo next to me?
Gone. Vanished. Permanently erased from my memory.
I have gained convenience in my life. The beauty of it is that I never
even asked for it. "Clean it up," I would utter and clean it up he
would perform. Because I now have more time, freer time, I can see more
too. "Clean that up and then that. And see over there? That too." No
shouting. No yelling. I say; he does. Simplicity.
Mine was not a posture to demand or terrify. I resolved to let him do
that to himself, my pattern for much of our recent life together. Who
knew where his mind went when I would breezily say, "Oh well, suit
yourself," and exit stage right without a care in the world?
I had come to feel the power of controlling his orgasms. Why shout?
It's easier to shrug one's shoulders, look down sympathetically at his
mini-cock, and carelessly say, "Okay, your choice, your consequences",
and casually turn and walk away. I had the key to his chastity belt. My
right fist was the key to his prostate happiness. And my tongue let him
know it: "Baby cock has a choice: maximum, medium, or minimum security.
Baby Jerry has a choice too: Bright Crimson or Sexy Starlet or
Mysterious Ruby on his nails?"
I have also gained an insight into a part of me that I had not known
existed. Now that I know, I'm not ready to shutter that part of me
again.
I dare not speak for my peers but I provisionally offer that perhaps
recent thinking about marriage is flawed. To wit, we chatter about
equality and role-sharing but do we ask whether they generate
happiness? The latter, I suggest, is the key to every successful
marriage. If not happiness, then what?
When Jeremy and I role-shared and shared chores, I was happy I suppose.
Teamwork? Yep. Quality time together? Yep. Doing things we believed
modern couples did? Yep. Happy? Sure, in that context, at that time,
given what I then knew.
But now!!! Wow!!! I am much happier. I run the show. I say; he obey
(grammatically wrong but sounds better). I'm not depriving him of
anything. "Need a new lawnmower? Sure, go buy one." Indeed, I trust him
more now because he so devotedly complies with my directions and so
immediately fulfills my most insignificant request. "I'll make it worth
your while if you lose another 10 pounds the next two weeks." I'd
forget about that throwaway line and, two weeks later, he'd remind me,
by showing me the reading on the bathroom scale. He'd do anything.
I wake up carefree every morning now. When I am at work, my mind is
focused anew upon the tasks at hand because I am not as distracted by
my domestic life as I once was. My boss informed me that I am due for
promotion next month! My dinner is lovingly made for me, in accordance
with my tastes. I can relax without worry every evening, sharing a tea
with Jeremy in the roseal sunlight of the setting sun or enjoying the
soothing relaxation as he cleanses my feet.
Of Jeremy's happiness? He never says "no". He never says "stop". He
seems genuinely pleased that he can in so many ways please me. The
occasional bluff and bravado of his younger years has been gone for
weeks, maybe months, now. While I better appreciate his kindness and
caring, there is a part of me that misses his every-now-and-then
caveman Neanderthal behaviour. I will have to address that lacuna at
some point.
Regardless, he awakens me with a smile, kisses me out the door with a
smile, skips I imagine to work with a smile, likely works with a smile,
and returns home the same way, with a smile to greet me at the door
with a smile. He seems happy! He seems happier than he had been when we
were first married.
We had, I realized, achieved a degree of happiness in our marriage that
I had far too often seen absent on so many of our friends' and
families' marriages. Ours could be the long-term keeper. It would be a
different marriage, for sure, but it would be a successful one.
"Jeremy, come to Mistress!" I gently shouted through the house. He
scampered up to me quickly. I gave him a peck on the cheek. He was
pathetic as a man, but he was ever adorable and lovable as a devoted
companion. My husband was going to be my companion on my journey
through my life. He would want for nothing and he would be constantly
loved.
By me. By only me. By no one but me.
And I was fucking determined to cement this relationship so.
I put on my icy-steel bitch face and roared at him: "You sissy!
Upstairs! Two enemas! Lipstick! Makeup! Wig! Corset! Garters! Six-
inchers! Locks! Cuffs! No gag! If you want a biggie, then be ready in
20!" I caned his vanishing butt: negative incentive I suppose.
I walked through the house, knowing that he would be obediently
preparing himself for Mistress' indulgence. I smoked a Camel. No, no
more equality per se in our married life. Happiness, yes; equality no.
I did love Jeremy dearly. We had known each other since we were
teenagers. So much under the bridge together. I would never let him go.
But love as it had been? Husband and wife? Man and woman? No. Never
again. A part of me was sad of this.
Yet another part sensed on an instinctive level that this was nature's
destiny. We were meant to be the way I was about to compel us to be. He
would not object; he never did. And if he did, then I would stop. But
he never did. That's trust, one that I know to the root of my soul that
I can never betray.
I went into the downstairs bathroom and stripped. I took my acquisition
out of the cupboard and inserted the dildos and tightened the belts. I
looked in the mirror. I touched up my makeup; I wanted a husky,
aggressive colour that suggested an intolerance to disobedience.
I smiled at my resolve in the mirror. Off I went. Upstairs.
Toward...him. I couldn't even think of him as a man.
But I did love him and would never part from him.
"I'm coming for little, teenie-weenie Jewwi. I am going to fuck his ass
and teach him the only ways he will ever have sex with me again!
Jewemie is going to beg for my cock! And every time he rams his ass on
my cock is every time the dildos in my cunt and in my ass pleasure me!
Your ass is mine now, Jeremy Brown! I will fuck you anywhere, anytime,
anyhow I want and you will never disagree with me!"
I reached to the top of the staircase as I nearly finished my little
speech. I caned his cheeks as I shouted the last six words.
And he said nothing as I shoved my super-thick, 10" strap-on dildo into
his asshole.
And in saying nothing, he had said everything: "Yes, Mistress."
As I grabbed his hips and pulled fiercely, I came to the conclusion
that I had but one more boundary to get him to leap and then ours would
be the optimal relationship forever.
finito
Miracle
- 26.08.2020
- 24
- 0
