tagBDSMEnslaved by My Husband

Enslaved by My Husband

byAphrodisiac4theSoul©

I should've seen it sooner. The odd glances and whispers at the office parties. The unexplained and sudden business trips. The stern disposition he affected when I visited him at his office. The disinterest in me, and the seeming boredom in our romantic life… Then again the boredom and disinterest had been there a lot longer than what brought this about. Perhaps what kept me in the dark so long was our unabated sex life. It was boring, I admit, but regularly (two or three times a week), Keith would climb on me missionary-style for a little five minute rut, business trips notwithstanding. This all changed when I found he had been cheating on me.

We were at an office party, and I had by then accepted the whispers and stares as my own self-consciousness. But midway through the party, a wife of one of Keith's coworker came over and told me in a hushed, confidential tone that perhaps I should see what Keith was up to. My search for him found me peaking through a cracked bedroom door behind, which Keith was showing our five minute love-making sessions to be the quickies they were. His secretary's legs firmly wrapped around his back, he humped slowly and steadily into her. To my near-virgin eyes (Keith being the only man I'd been with), it appeared evident they were aways from being finished despite seemingly having been at it for a while as well as they obviously were quite familiar with each other in such an intimate fashion. I left quickly and quietly, torn up inside.

The rest of the party was a blur of mixed feelings. Maybe I should've left, but I didn't. Riding home silently in the car that night, I was going back and forth on plotting on how to win back my wayward husband's heart and planning his death.

She insisted on sex that night. A rarity that I took advantage despite my earlier adventures at the office party. Kara, like any wife, rarely asked for sex, occasionally refused it on basis of a "headache" or being "tired", but for the most part put up with it. She came to bed in one of those silky baby doll lingerie pieces I routinely gave her for Valentine's and anniversaries, but she never wore. I smelled a scent of perfume on her that hadn't been there before at the office party. And she appeared to have touched up her makeup and hair, though I was never sure about those things. Altogether, she was an arousing sight. At 5'6" and probably 135 pounds, she could afford to lose a little weight, but for the most part it was in the right places. Wide doe brown eyes and honey brown hair down past her shoulders and ample (but not large) cone-shaped tits describes her pretty well.

Lounging on the bed, I was enjoying this strange twist of events. Kara insisting on sex, then doing herself up for it (although I suppose that's to be expected of women). I was expecting the our traditional five minute quickie, maybe tack on another five minutes due to the special circumstances, then we'd roll over and go to sleep. Business as usual in the Carter household. Then crawling onto the bed, she dipped her down to my growing man-member and started licking. This caught me by surprise as Kara is revolted by blowjobs and had only tried twice before, and both times rushed to the bathroom with claims of nausea. This time she pleasantly succeeded in getting the head into her throat and keeping it there, even managing to bob up and down a couple of times. She paled in comparison to Blaire, who I couldn't help comparing her to. Still, a pleasant experience nonetheless. After a couple of minutes of her mouth ministering to my cock, she got up and sat on me in the cow-girl position--the first time she had done something besides missionary position since she refused doggy-style calling it degrading. After a couple of minutes of her slow strokes despites my encouraging hands on her hips, we were going no where; so I turned her over and finished it off in missionary. Boring, but hey, I had work in the morning. I came, and she either orgasmed or faked one. I couldn't tell and didn't really care. All in all, it took ten minutes. Pretty good for the wife.

Then she started talking. We had scarcely talked it all after leaving for the party besides the bare minimum, and Kara's little suggestion to have sex (I didn't take much convincing), and also we never talk after sex, so I was understandably surprised.

"See I can be a good lover."

"What?"

"I can be a good lover, too."

My stomach rolled. She knew. But why sex? A cruel stab before leaving? A final lay until she finds another man? Maybe we could make up… And then it started pouring out of her.

I decided to try to win him back. I loved Keith, all 180 pounds of his handsome 6'2" frame. I had even resorted to sucking him off, keeping on even with my stomach rising higher each second his penis was in my mouth. And I had even used a different position, before he pulled me back into the missionary position.

"I know I need to lose weight. I'm going to start dieting. If you want sex more often, we can do that. And you wanted me to find more recipes you like, I'll do that. And you don't have to mow the lawn anymore, I'll take care of that while I'm cleaning the house."

I was babbling now, and I knew it—offering everything that I had to offer.

At first, I was panic-stricken. Just the shock of having my affair discovered. Then the pang of fear that came with the thought of divorce. Not that Kara meant that much to me, but I was a wealthy man with my job, and I wasn't anxious to lose half of it. Then I realized she was begging pathetically to make up. Stunned, I let her go on.

"And if you want a no-fault divorce, we can do that. But anything I can do to stay with you, I'll do." I stopped as I realized the second to last thing I had said. Oh, well, he probably realizes how desperate I am now anyway. If not, surely the last would tell him.

Relief hit even further at the thought of a no-fault divorce. Blaire would be happy with that. Then her last sentence… "Anything", that sent thoughts running through my head. Specifically:

"What about anal sex? And that bj?"

I wasn't even thinking just nodding furiously. I hadn't even let him try anal, as I had heard horror stories from my girlfriends of the pain and bleeding anuses, but pain would be a small price to pay to keep my husband.

"Let's sleep on it, and we'll talk about it tomorrow."

I told Blaire the whole story when I got into work the next day. I know having an affair with your secretary is so passé, but Blaire was a blonde, blue-eyed beauty aged 23 whose curves would take some serious calculus to figure out. She was also kinky and was always reading the Kamra Sutra or the Training of O or some other sex book. I didn't really keep track.

"She said anything?"

"Yup." I said a little cocky at the power I held over my wife.

"Then do it."

"Do what?"

"Anything. Throatfuck her until she gags, fuck her ass, make her kiss your feet if you want. Just make sure she knows her place, then let her know I'm going to stay in her life."

"And what's her place?"

"At your feet, her nose buried in your pubic nose as you shove your fat cock down her tender throat. Make her your fucking slave."

When I woke up Keith was already gone, at work with Blaire no doubt, and at that thought, the pangs of jealousy shot through me once again. I wondered at the things I had offered. Being a virgin before meeting Keith, I had no idea about his size relative to other men, but during normal sex he filled me, I wasn't looking forward to having his think tool plumbing my bowels. The rest of the day, I alternated between moping around the house, wondering how I could compete with a girl five years younger than me, thinking if maybe I should divorce Keith, and doing setups in the vain hope I could lose the ten pounds I needed to before Keith got home. Finally with a couple of hours left before Keith usually returned from work, I got dinner going and started preparing myself—shaving my legs, shampooing my hair two times over, putting my little black dress on (when in doubt, go with the classic), then probably an hour alone on my makeup with trips to the kitchen in-between to keep the meal from burning.

At 6:30, Keith walked in. Everything was ready, and I was waiting by the door. I stood in anticipation is he walked through, watching his mouth for the words that would come through that would determine where we stand.

"If you really mean everything, and I think you did, then I think we can stay together."

I sighed with relief and ran up to him giving him a kiss, then bending down to help him with his shoes and coat. When I straightened up, he spoke again.

"Let's start by you taking off that dress."

I was surprised at first, but after a momentary hesitation, I pulled it over my head.

"And your underwear."

I did that too. It felt strange standing there nude in my dressy heels, while he was fully dressed, but I guess that's what he wanted.

"Now serve me dinner."

By the tone of his voice, I could hear that serving him dinner probably did not include eating any of my own, but I did so. He ate in silence with me filling his glass after every sip and fetching everything at his command.

"Now time for you to eat."

I was surprised he was giving me this opportunity, but as I was lowering myself to take my seat, I realized he meant differently than I thought. He grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me down to my knees in front of him, eye-level with his zipper. I tentatively opened his pants and pulled out his cock. As I slowly inserted it into my mouth, he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my mouth all the way down. He pushed until I felt his cock pushing my gag reflex. Being ordered to relax and swallow, I did the best I could, and his hands in my hair did the rest bringing his cock into my throat—my nose poking into his pubic hair. He pulled back and forth, raping my throat with his thick tool, occasionally he'd bring it out of my mouth to slap me with it, only to push it forcefully back in. A couple of minutes later, my face already coated with my own drool, he came down my throat then wiped himself off in my hair.

"You want me to stay?"

You may think I'm dumb not to have seen this coming, but it was then I realized this wasn't just a momentary to thing to win him back, but if Keith stayed, this would be the new status quo. Me on my knees serving him as he gave me cruel orders. And… that's what I wanted.

"Yes, please stay." I begged, whining almost, still terrified at the thought of losing him.

"Beg. Beg for me to take you. Beg for me to fuck you up the ass."

I whimpered. This was it. He was cruelly commanding me to offer myself in a most vulnerable way—to be taken violently in an unnatural way.

"Please… Please do it. Take me… fuck me even."

"Then kiss my feet."

I bet and kissed his feet, kissing my last dignity goodbye as well. I wasn't just pressing my lips lightly against his ankle either; I was smothering his foot, his toes, his heel with the caresses of my lips and the lapping of my tongue.

I looked down with pride at the woman at my feet. Only earlier this week, she had peacefully co-existed with me as an equal; now, she begged me to take her, bending her head to my feet. I grabbed her by the hair, pulling her up. Leading her to the open kitchen, I pushed her to the floor. She was on the hard, aching tile, but I'd be on her soft, tender body. Her elbows and knees pressed to the ground, she lifted her hips up, rising her ass in the air. I aimed my dick up with her tight and crinkled anus and attempted to ram it in. I was still slick with saliva and cum from her earlier bj, but her ass was tight. A quiet plop was heard then as the head of my prick pushed past the anal ring into her bowels. She muffled a yelp from the pain. I rode her like a horse, one hand in her hair using her tresses as reins, the other mauling her tender tits and sensitive nipples—something I dared not do before because of her complaints. After a few minutes of humping against her, I came. My cum slowly oozing out of her ass. She collapsed panting to the ground, and I rose, standing over my new fucking slave.

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