Sausages Backstory Ch. 19

Following his month labouring on Bette's 'prison' farm, Prisoner Dan settled into a nervous existence in Mary's new house. He was her houseboy in reality; a houseboy with occasional benefits, but also a houseboy who suffered occasional punishments, corporal and otherwise. Mary, Slave Dan's owner, enjoyed her additional role as jailor to Prisoner Dan. She lost no opportunity to remind Dan that the threat of jail still hung over his head.

'Get back out there and finish that weeding,' she might order him on a wet weekend. 'So what if it is raining? Unless you want to go off to the State prison to serve out the remainder of your time? You can be nice and dry in your jail cell for the next few years, if that's what you prefer.'

'Sorry, Madam, I'll get back to it straight away,' Dan would respond with alacrity. Regular reminders like that served to underline the precarious nature of Dan's hold on his lowly place in Mary's household. Dan knew all too well that even were he to remain a good, obedient and dutiful slave, Mary might decide, on a whim, to have him sent to jail anyway, just because she could. Or because it suited her to get him out of the way. Those 'what ifs' kept Dan very biddable around the house. Always eager to please his wife, owner, and now, jailor.

Things weren't all bad for Dan. Early on that first week of his return home Mary had Bette come around and remove the chastity cage that he wore for the first month of his sentence. Mary convinced the Magistrate who had ordered the cock cage be worn, that it would be a far greater punishment for Dan to have his penis available to him but not be allowed to touch it, to be afraid to touch it even, than having it locked away out of his reach. And so it came to pass. Dan was controlled by a mental cock cage of his own making. He really was afraid to touch his cock unless specifically instructed to do so by his owner, Mary. Not that he didn't want to. Just that he was afraid of the consequences if he was caught. There were cameras everywhere in the new house.

Removing Dan's chastity cage allowed Mary grant him some regular, supervised sexual release. Usually that came after she had Dan pleasure her first. Mary had a policy of making Dan work for it. He could never take for granted that he would get a good time every Friday night, say. She made sure to keep him off balance, wondering and hoping, and never being able to take it for granted. Mary knew that Dan could enjoy servicing her needs, even though he wasn't guaranteed him a happy ending for himself. That was what being a good sex slave was all about as far as she was concerned. He was there to serve.

In that spirit, after Dan had successfully worked through his first week as her houseboy, and lost his chastity cage, Mary decided she would bring him into her bedroom and give him a taste of the intimacy he had been denied for the previous month and a bit. Ordering him to lie face down on her bed, Mary clipped each of his wrist cuffs to the bedpost at either side of the head of the bed. She had him pull his knees up under his belly, pushing up and presenting his ass for her. She knelt behind him and rode him hard up the ass with her dildo. Dan took it like a man, moaning and begging for it to stop. Next, she sat above his head at the top of the bed and slid her feet and legs under his outstretched arms so that Dan's head and mouth were trapped against her pussy. There, she had him eat her out to her full satisfaction, pulling his nose and tongue up and down across her clit as it suited her. It took Dan's mind off his hot, burning, distended asshole.

Afterwards, Mary decided to allow Dan a tender follow-up moment of intimacy. As she told him, this was to make up for his month on the farm. All those lonely nights sleeping on a scratchy pile of straw in the barn above the animals. It would be good to let him enjoy a bit of close human contact again, she said. Releasing his wrists from the bedposts one at a time and clipping them to the collar under his chin, Mary let Dan snuggle up behind her, spooning into her back. She enjoyed the feel of his hard engorged cock throbbing wetly against the top of her thighs.

The feeling of it trying to slip between her pussy lips, like a blind puppy trying to find its mother's teat felt good. Mary just pushed her thighs together a little tighter and blocked Dan's efforts. She enjoyed his trying and trying to push in but not getting anywhere. Knowing Dan so wanted to come, and not letting him, gave Mary such a kick. For her, this moment represented the whole of how their new relationship should be. Him wanting it. Her deciding he couldn't have it. Him forever having to accept her decision. Accept who was on top, in bed and elsewhere, and sound grateful for it.

Dan, loved the shared intimacy of the moment. He felt sure this was the beginning of his good time in bed with Mary. Good times were about to roll around at last. Basically, all Dan needed now was to come. Not too much to ask. He was a man after all. A man with manly needs. He wanted to feel that glorious rush, the explosion of release, feel a hand gripping his hard and straining cock, hers or his, he didn't care. Now was the time, he decided.

Banking on this moment of shared intimacy he decided to risk calling his owner by her name. It would move her back into the husband/wife space, the happy couple space, he reasoned, while she was still enjoying a post coital glow as she came down off her own massive orgasm, her breath slowly steadying and returning to normal. Surely she would be feeling generous and want to give him a good time too. Go for it, Dan, he said to himself, psyching himself up.

'Mary. It sounds like you enjoyed that, and I'm so glad for you. I would really like to come too. It's been such a long time. Please can I? Please, Mary', Dan bravely whispered into her ear, contorting his collar bound hands so as to tenderly massage her shoulders and neck.

Mary wasted no time in restoring him to the new reality that Slave Dan was yet to own and embrace.

'But it's good for you to suffer a little, Dan,' she responded, all sweet and reasonable, enjoying her neck rub, while squeezing her thighs together a little harder against Dan's probing cock. 'It reminds you what being a slave is all about. It also reminds you how we woman have to suffer being left hanging there time after time. Men having their quickie release and falling asleep. Leaving us with that hot burning throbbing need that you are feeling now. This is what it is like, Dan. Nothing new for us women. So you should get used to it. Be thankful for it even.'

Mary enjoyed giving that little speech, she almost chuckled as she delivered it, knowing that poor frustrated Dan would struggle to contain himself, yet contain himself he must, she vowed. As she felt his hot, wet cock pulsing and still pushing vainly against her thighs, she amused herself with the thought that Dan's sexual training would be as much fun as his slave training had been.

Despite Mary firmly shutting down his wheedling attempt to let him come, Dan was just not hearing her. More training needed, clearly. Ignoring all the red warning signals in his desperation for release, Dan thought it would be helpful to suggest that Mary owed him one. Unwisely, he based his case on their marital relationship.

'Please, Mary,' Dan pleaded. 'Let's forget about the slave thing for a moment, Mary. Think of me as your husband, and you as my wife. You need to let me come.'

'Ahh, Dan, Dan, Dan, have you still not learned the basics?' asked Mary, briskly turning around from spooning into him, facing him now. Her eyes sternly beating his down so that he blinked and looked away because he realised then that rejection was coming. Mary, could sense him pulling back, but she gave him both barrels anyway.

'First off, Slave' she said, harshly, 'I don't need to let you come. So don't ever again suggest that I need to let you do anything. I'll arrange visit from Bette for you first thing next week for even thinking that I have to meet your pathetic needs. I'll have her beat that sort of thinking out of you. However long it takes'.

'Sorry, Madam,' muttered Dan thickly, realising, too late, that in his sexual frenzy he'd stepped way over the mark. But worse was to come. Mary wasn't finished.

'But there is another thing, Dan. You mentioned you being my husband and me being your wife. Well, Dan, I've been meaning to tell you all week but hadn't found the right moment. You've made this the right moment. The plain fact is, Dan, that you are no longer my husband.'

'What! I am. We're married, Mary. I am your husband. You can't just say we are not married, Mary.., eh M- madam,' Dan spluttered, forgetting Mary had pushed him firmly back into the slave space again, as he grappled with the utter ridiculousness of what Mary was saying.

'Were married, Dan. Were. Here's the thing. I divorced you while you were doing your hard labour on Bette's farm. Did you know that a wife can get an automatic, no-contest, divorce if her husband becomes a convicted criminal? And what are you Dan? Let's hear you say it. Say it out loud, Dan. About time you own it.'

It was all too much for Dan. But he knew Mary was sticking it to him and he had better go along with her request. He felt his erection fade to nothing as he obliged her and whispered the words she wanted him to say.

'I'm a convicted criminal.'

'Louder!'

'I'm a convicted criminal.'

'And because of that fact, Danny boy, you are no longer my husband. I have the piece of paper to prove it. Actions have consequences. So you can forget all about that husband and wife thing you tried to pull there. The only relationship you have with me going forward is as my slave. Nothing else. Got it?'

'Yes, Madam,' whispered Dan, mouthing the correct response, but not yet internalising the reality. He was still in the denial stage. But Mary wasn't going to leave him there much longer.

'Just to be clear, Dan, in the eyes of the law you are a stranger in my house. You are only here because I permit you to be here. Separate completely from you being a prisoner in my custody. Even if that all disappeared, I could put you outside my front door anytime and you'd have no right to get back in. I could call the cops and say there is a stranger hanging around my front door. They'd run you out of it pretty fast. So be grateful for each day that I don't. Let's hear some gratitude, Slave, and let me hear you say what you are not.'

'Thank you for keeping me, Madam, especially because I am no longer your husband,' whispered Dan, the ex-husband man, mentally trying to catch up. Trying to rapidly make it to the acceptance stage of grieving for his once upon a time marriage. Saying it out loud had helped to make it real for him. So there it is, he thought, I am no longer Mary's husband.

'That's right Dan. You are no longer my husband. While I keep you under my roof, Dan, and while I own you, it's my way or the highway for you. Just so you know. Now get downstairs into the slave quarters. The next time I'll see you will be in the morning and you will be holding my cup of coffee under your sorry chin -- or else.'

'Y-yes, M-madam,' stuttered the shocked Dan, scampering off the bed and scurrying out of the room, abandoning any pretence at dignity or grace, his bound hands caught up under his chin like a pantomime mouse in Cinderella, his recently proud and thrusting penis resembling a shrivelled prune stuck on the front of his hairless bulging ball sac.

It was such a brutal put down. Dan blundered his way back to the slave quarters utterly humiliated and mentally beaten. There was nothing he could say back to Mary as he went out her bedroom door. Nothing he dared say back to her, even if he could think of some light-hearted riposte, some bit of bravado. He was a beaten man. It wasn't physical, but mentally it was as if he had received forty lashes of a bull whip.

Mary felt strangely empowered after the exchange. She breathed heavily and her face was flushed. It was almost like a sexual thrill she told Alice, Bette and Becky. She gave them the blow-by-blow account of Dan's unmanning when they all met up the following evening for one of Bette's weekend parties out in the farmhouse.

'Good for you, Mary,' said Alice in school marm mode. Proud of her star pupil. 'It's high time Dan realised the reality of being a slave. He wanted it and now he's got it. You should be able to make good use of him now. It will allow you focus fully on your career.'

'I'll drop over during the week and give him a good hiding,' chipped in Bette. 'Fuck him up the ass too. The nerve of him, demanding that you service him like you were some old fashioned obedient housewife.'

Then the girls got down to giving each other a good time while Dan languished on his plastic mattress, locked in his slave quarters for the night, monitored by the blinking red camera lights on the ceiling at either end of the cell. He wondered if Mary was looking at him on her phone right now.

What if she decided to take a new man in permanently, he wondered. She'd had men around already. Most of those times Dan was locked in the slave quarters of the old house. But he had suffered the full cuckolding thing, a few times.

There had been a fairly regular director guy from her work that came to their old house. He knew all about Dan. Dan wasn't sure if it was just a business relationship that Mary was maintaining to progress her IT executive career, or if he was a potential replacement for Dan, the husband; the ex-husband, actually, he told himself. When the director guy stayed over Dan had had to serve them both dinner and then was made to stand in the corner naked while they fucked in front of him.

They didn't act like he wasn't there. It was more like that they knew he was there, but that he didn't matter. Kind of rubbing it in. Make him do the full cuckold humiliation thing. Sucking the man's dick beforehand to make him hard; licking them both clean afterwards. All of which made Dan a very horny at the time. Horny, but helpless to do anything about it. They pointed as much out to him, laughing over the pathetic straining of his precum-dripping, going nowhere erection. Mary suggesting that he might save that up for a week or two while she thought about giving him a release. And Dan would have to thank her for thinking of his needs too.

Now that Dan had been made fully aware of his ex-husband status, complimenting his slave status and prisoner status, Mary decided it was time the neighbours at Manor Homes Village knew as well. Out Dan in front of the neighbours and be done with it. The sort of decisiveness that makes you stand out in the world of IT executives. That gets you promoted -- or fired. Depends on how it goes.

She chose the monthly Manor Homes Village residents meeting as the occasion for the grand reveal. Mary could do meetings. Knew how to hold the floor, grab people's attention, and get a result. These meetings of the residents were held in one of their houses on a rota basis. They discussed the usual stuff; the drains getting blocked with leaves, the unreliability of the refuse collection; all the trivia of daily living. This night about fifteen adults representing all ten houses in the gated enclave that was Manor Homes Village attended.

Mary wanted to leave no resident in any doubt as to what was what when it came to Dan. To that end, she made Dan dress in his standard grey tracksuit, on top of which she had him tie a frilly gingham apron and put yellow rubber kitchen gloves on his hands. She tied a matching yellow ribbon going from under his chin up and over his bald polished and gleaming head. The ribbon was knotted with a big bow on top. Dan looked like a cross between a clown and traditional housewife from about 1962.

Before they went in to the meeting, Mary prepped Dan on what to expect. She said she would reveal all, more or less. Dan thought of objecting, but accepted that, what with the internet and WhatsApp groups and so on, they would all find out pretty soon anyway. Mary told him to use 'Ma'am' when responding to her, because the Madam thing sounded a bit kinky, a touch of the 'Madam Whiplash.' In fact, she said she wouldn't even mention his slave status. Dan knew why. Having an actual slave is not considered cool these days. There might be some modern sensitivities on the estate around the whole slavery thing. Dan wondered about the wisdom of his fancy dress rig-out, but decided he was in no position to object to anything. Instead he just replied 'Yes, Ma'am, while attempting a wry grin. But he felt sick inside. Traumatic didn't quite capture it. The memory of that evening would remain with him for ever.

Deliberately, Mary made sure they arrived a last at the meeting. The attendees were assembled in a large living room that the front door opened directly into. The couches and armchairs were all occupied and more chairs had been pulled in from the dining area. Dan immediately attracted a few giggles and curious looks when he trailed in behind Mary, shuffling along in her wake, hoping to hide behind her, his downturned face blushing a furious red. The neighbours first thought it was probably some fancy dress gag, some sort of joke.

No joke for Dan though. If ever there was a person desperately avoiding eye contact with the others in the room, and looking for any hole in the ground that might open up and swallow him, it was Dan in that moment. All he needed would have been a feather duster in one hand to complete the image of a downtrodden 1950's housewife. And that's precisely where Mary put him. Before sitting down and allowing the meeting proper to get under way, she launched into her speech -- which she clearly had prepared in advance.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, your attention please. You know me: Mary Hemmings from number eight. I'd like to take the opportunity before you start the formal business to introduce my ex-husband, Nathan Hemmings.'

'Nathan! Look up. Say hello to your neighbours.'

Dan quickly glanced up and mumbled a quick hello and resumed staring at the floor about two inches in front of his trainers. Nobody replied to Dan's mumbled hello. The neighbours were still trying to take in what they were seeing.

'He's a bit shy, is Nathan, but I have him fairly well trained and he will do what he is told. Isn't that right, Nathan?

Mumble, mumble.

'Louder, Nathan. And look up when I tell you to look up.'

'Yes, Ma'am,' obliged Dan, willing himself to speak out, willing himself to reveal himself as a total twat who is totally under the thumb of his wife. To avoid meet his new neighbours' eyes, he focussed over their heads at the blurry splodge of modern art on the far wall of the room.

Now the mood in the room was one of shock; anxious glances and half titters passed between the couples present. Was this a joke? But it didn't seem like a joke. This man was being publicly humiliated by his wife, or ex-wife. Right here in front of them. This was for real. You could almost feel the frisson of excitement rippling round the room. Now they wanted more; more shocks, more surprises. This was good; a circus. Now they wanted blood. They were back in the arenas of ancient Roman. They wanted to see this mighty lion of a woman tear this pathetic goat of a man to pieces before their eyes. And Mary obliged. And the crowd roared their appreciation.

'The fact is, neighbours,' continued Mary, 'we are what is known as a 1950's household. I am head of that household. That means Nathan is subordinate to me. He does what I tell him. He gets disciplined if he fails to live up to my expectations.' Mary slowly tapped her hand against Dan's ass as she mentioned the discipline bit. Dan stoically took it, continuing his new found, intense interest in modern art, feeling the public patting of her palm against his butt, feeling his traitorous cock slowly thicken. Mary held the shocked audience spellbound. Nobody moved, nobody spoke. Some eyes widened and flicked from Mary's hand tapping on Dan's ass to Dan's ribbon framed flushed face. Searching for clues as to whether this was for real. Mary continued with her speech.