Subservient One

My name is Barbara. My mildly religious upbringing taught me that a woman should be herself but always be submissive to her husband. My Dad treated Mom like a queen and, while she was very independent and free with her opinions, whatever Dad decided or wanted is what was done. Mom instilled in me the virtue and benefit of being beholden to a husband. I was also taught that sex is a wondrous thing but only between man and wife. A husband and his wife should do anything they please, especially if it was what the husband wants. But until marriage there should be no sex beyond kissing, dancing or holding hands.

This was how I lived my life through my dating years of high school and beyond, and it worked well. I found that the boys I dated were much more pleased when they were in charge and treated me better than when they weren't. Fighting off sex was a bit of a struggle... probably triggered by my 36C breasts – very prominent for my #4 dress size. All the boys tried hard to play with them and to get in my pants, but in the end they respected me in a way for not allowing it. I did struggle with my own sexual urges looking at their hard bodies, tight butts, and wondering what it was exactly they had in their pants. Though that was alleviated after a friend taught me about fingering myself and playing with my clitoris to achieve that stupendous feeling of getting off.

I first dated my future husband, Ken (please, no Ken and Barbie jokes), when I was 21. My relations with men still rang true with Ken. Ken was a great hunk and partner and, though he was demanding, which didn't go against my submissive bent, I decided he was the one. When I was 22 and Ken was 24 we got engaged. We slotted our wedding exactly one year after our engagement. During that year I'll have to admit that I fudged a little on the sex thing. I let Ken take my virginity one month in and we had intercourse a half-dozen times. Ken was a lot more experienced and taught me almost everything I now know about sex. He knew how to pleasure a girl and I discovered that while rubbing my clitoris was great, it paled against a large penis in my vagina. He also taught me that, in line with the obedience thing, a girl's primary role is to make sure her man is happy. I agreed with that and our marriage began with me being enthusiastic for sex and wanting to please Ken.

It didn't take long for my subordination to morph into subservience – starting on our honeymoon. After our vows we flew to a resort, checked into a hotel and planned for a celebratory dinner. As we were getting ready, Ken told me exactly what to wear... not asked, told... and not suggestions, but exactly – what clothes, their precise color, what makeup, how to do my hair, etc. "But before you put your fresh clothes on I want to have our first married fuck," he interrupted.

"Did you say 'fuck'? I asked, a little puzzled.

"You've never heard that word?" he asked quizzically.

"Of course I have. I just never used it in common talk," I replied.

He answered, "Yeah. 'Fuck' is the common word for what we do and 'fuck' is the word we will use. Now get the rest of your clothes off and get up on the bed. I want to fuck fuck fuck you real bad."

I did as he asked. I cared little of small things like word usage when Ken was about to put his penis in my vagina, and I told him so. He told me to remove his pants and underpants. I let out an Oooooo when his penis popped out. As he approached my spread legs he said, "Let's use the rest of the correct words from now on, Sweetie. It's not 'penis.' It's cock, prick, dick, schlong, or pecker... or when it's expanded, boner or hard-on. It's not 'vagina.' It's pussy, cunt, twat, muff, snatch, poon tang, or beaver. Now raise your pussy so I can slip my cock in it and fuck my lovely wife's brains out."

Without fanfare he rammed his peni.... Oops... cock in my pussy. It felt great. I cooed, "Ooooo! This feels good. As long as we do it I'll call it anything you want." "My pleasure," he answered, and banged me like there was no tomorrow until I felt him tighten and deposit his load deep in my pussy.

After I got dressed I greeted him in the sitting room of our suite. We kissed. Abruptly he harshly told me that I had on the wrong blouse. "When I say beige, I mean beige, not light tan, not cream-colored, but beige. Now god damn it go do what your husband said put on the correct blouse."

"But I thought beige would go better with my skirt," I protested.

He replied in a much softer voice, "I know, babe. And it's O.K. to think that and suggest it. But when I tell you it's beige, then you will put on beige."

"Well, you don't have to curse at me," I further protested.

He retorted, "I know, hon. Nothing personal. Just thought it would clear up any doubt over who's the boss."

We had a pleasant dinner, eating and also cooing at each other as newlyweds. We returned early and re-consummated our marriage by fucking again. For the first time we did it twice in one evening (thrice if you count the afternoon) one about two hours after the first. Both times we both had massive orgasms. "This is going to be great," I thought to myself. The next day we lolled around the pool and again got ready for dinner. I dressed exactly as Ken dictated, including for the first time not wearing a bra. During dinner he told me to unbutton three buttons..., "in case I get an opportunity to show you off." Back in our room I was expecting more lovemaking. Instead he said, "Before we fuck there's some stuff I need to teach you."

"What is that?" I asked.

"We tried it once or twice when you were my fiancé but never completely. I'm going to teach you how to please me by sucking my cock." He continued, "Take all your clothes off, take my clothes off, then come sit by me on the bed." I did as he said. He then told me to put my lips just over the top of his cock, the head. He showed me how to squeeze my lips just so and slide my mouth up and down his cock with a sucking motion, especially over the rim under the head, lightly squeeze his balls, and make a tight circular movement of my lips around his cock head while I wrapped my fist around the base of his cock and jacked it up and down. I did all this for about six or seven minutes with him giving me little coaching hints along the way. I was getting to really enjoy it. I also added more words that I can use openly: suck, head, rim, base, shaft, balls, jack. He was starting to moan and breathe heavily which told me I was probably doing it right, and that pleased me.

He whispered, "Now we are going to do something we haven't done before but it's essential to being a good cock sucker. I'm going to cum in your mouth while you continue to suck me off. My cum will splash the back of your mouth but as long as you know it's coming you shouldn't be afraid, but might have a natural reaction to back your mouth off. It's natural so don't worry about it, but I'll be holding your head on my cock to help you do this right. When I stop cumming, suck every last drop out of my cock and hold it all in your mouth. Then I'll remove my cock, you open your mouth and look me in the eyes so I can verify you have all of my cum. Then swallow it."

I have heard "cum" before but guess it too is now part of my everyday speech. I did as he told. He bellowed and shot what felt like a thick warm milkshake into my mouth. My head did autonomously snap back but he held it over his cock and actually pushed it deeper down my throat. I sucked as he told me to, then showed him the cum in my mouth. He purred, "That was great, hon. Swallow it now. And get used to it – you'll be eating a lot of my cum." I swallowed his cum. Then we rested, he said, "for an hour or so to recuperate, and then I'll give you your final exam – you can suck my cock one more time."

After about 90 minutes. Ken said, "I might be ready; it's time for your final exam. Come over here and play with my cock and make it hard – give me a hard-on. Then ask me real nice for permission to suck my cock, and I'll test how good you are." I played with it, got it hard, and asked if I could suck it. After adding "please" as he directed, I took my final exam and passed with flying colors – made it last almost ten minutes and swallowed another load of cum.

The next afternoon he taught me all of the nuances of a good jack-off, including getting my face splashed with his cum, wiping it off with a finger and eating it in front of his gaze. I later found out why the afternoon lesson. As we were sitting in a corner in the dining room nursing a drink before ordering dinner, Ken told me to reach under the table, unzip his pants, take his cock out and jack him off. "Oh! I can't do that," I exclaimed. He looked me sternly in the eyes and said quietly but harshly, "You not only can, you will. You'll do whatever I ask. Remember? Is that clear?" I nodded that I understood. Trying to avoid undue attention and to show him I did understand, I quickly began to slowly jack him off, even, as he directed, right through his giving the waiter our order. I was blushing and don't know if the waiter thought I was turning red because of what I was doing under the table or because he was trying to peek in my half-opened blouse to get a glimpse of my tits. Shortly after the waiter left Ken grabbed a napkin, put it over his cock as I pumped away, and, fighting back a loud moan, blasted his cum into the napkin. He said, "Let's trade napkins. You use this one to wipe your face and hands. Clean it with your tongue first if you want"

That night he said maybe we could fuck tomorrow but I had to give him a blow job (add another term) that night, "to earn your fuck." I wasn't sure what he meant by that but I sucked him off. It must have been O.K. because we fucked like minks the next night. A couple of more days and nights spent almost entirely eating, drinking, sucking and fucking and we headed for home – me on the plane with no bra or panties and a halfway unbuttoned blouse as Ken demanded. I suppose I could have been bothered by that, and some other stuff, but truth be know his showing me off turned me on a little. I enjoyed the appreciative stares at my chest and his diddling of my pussy under the blanket on the flight home. I was making Ken happy and, since that was my main function, was very satisfied.

As we settled in, things were going great. Ken would fuck me at least every day, sometimes twice. I was getting totally into this sex thing. Ken also stepped up the running of the household. He would virtually direct every aspect of my life. He would tell me exactly what to wear, what makeup to put on, give me a list of chores to do and exactly how to do them, tell me exactly what to cook for dinners and how to prepare it. Wanting to please, I actually appreciated this in general but it was getting hard to carry out all of his exacting orders perfectly. If I were off even a tiny bit, he would scold and berate me. "This is the third time this week that you had the wrong number of closed buttons on your blouse," he admonished one time. "And do you remember the day your skirt was the wrong color?!? You'd god damn well better straighten up!"

One of the demanding routines he set was breakfast. Each morning I awoke, kept my nightclothes on, came downstairs and poured him, but not me, a glass of juice. I then was to kneel next to his chair and, while he sipped his juice, take out his cock and give him a blowjob. He said his cum would be my morning juice... "besides, it's better for you.... you can't drink too much cum," he would say. Sometimes he would participate by grabbing my head and bobbing it for me. Or hold my head steady with him pumping his cock in and out of my mouth. Sometimes he would make me turn my head up and smile with my eyes as I sucked him off and he recorded it on a video cam. Once in a while he would stand up and force my head to bend upward and form a direct line from lips to gullet. He then would squat up and down and shove his seven-inch cock down my throat until my lips were hard pressed against his pubic hair. Since a mouth is at best three to four inches deep, it meant that he had a full 3 to 4 inches of his cock down my throat. The first couple of times I coughed and gagged, but soon got used to it by relaxing my neck muscles like Ken instructed. However, it was harder getting use to the pleasure he got by holding his cock fully down my throat for 20 seconds knowing I could just barely breathe through my nose. Sometimes he would get a diabolical but gratified smile adding insult to injury by pinching my nose closed at the same time and watching me squirm and struggle and turn white trying to catch a breath. But as long as he didn't kill me I was elated knowing I could pleasure him by letting him use my body anyway he desired. After I swallowed his load, or on those occasions when he shot his cum directly into my stomach as I was holding my breath, ne made me remain at his feet until he excused me, usually after a couple of minutes but sometimes as much as 30 just to emphasize his power over me.

Every now and then, as a kind of test, he would tell me to immediately suck him off again. "I just got my rocks off so it is going to be hard and probably take a long time. But you are to suck it continuously without any break, no matter if it takes all morning, until you get me to cum down your throat again. This will strengthen your skill at cock sucking for long periods of time which I want you to be able to do." I usually did well with this even though it often took over 30 minutes, sometimes more than 60. One morning after 50 minutes of continuous sucking and bobbing on his cock my mouth and lips got tired and my jaw felt like it would cramp up, so I took my mouth off his cock to rest it a second. He grabbed a fistful of hair and jerked my head back and cursed, "God damn it! Can't you follow directions? Why do you fucking disobey me all the time? Do you think my cock gives a shit if your jaw is tired? I don't give a shit! Are you supposed to do what I say?... or do you do what I say only if your god damn fuckin' jaw isn't tired?!?" Then he banged my head against the table leg a couple of times – not real hard but it still hurt like hell. "Does this help you stay in line?" he yelled, and banged my head two more times. Then he got soft and said very nicely, "I'm forced to punish you for all your errors – only because I love you and want you to get things right. Now pour me some more juice and finish my blowjob while thinking about your punishment...., but take your PJs off and do it naked."

I removed my clothes, gave him another glass of juice, got down on my knees and resumed my cock sucking. He sipped his juice with one hand and massaged a tit with the other, mostly pinching, twisting and pulling hard on its nipple. Despite the pain I was getting and my still tired jaw, I sucked non-stop for another 20 minutes. The nipple pain was not all bad: it went straight to my clitoris which felt good, and I liked knowing my available tits were pleasing Ken. He came in my mouth – a smaller load this time. Ken then took my hand and led me completely naked to the sofa where he had me lie over its large arm. I wasn't sure what was happening until Ken went to the closet and returned with a very large hardwood paddle with holes in it and a long handle.

"Ken, what are you doing?" I babbled.

"This is your timeout... your punishment. I'm going to give your ass 10 hard smacks with my paddle and make sure they hurt and burn your ass. This should help you to remember your duties and precise obligations to me. Now listen closely. It's O.K. if you whimper or scream a little from the pain. But if you complain, or try to get away, or cower from the blows, then you'll get more spanks added on. Do you understand?"

I hesitated a moment and mumbled a yes.

"Also call out loud the count after each spank."

I closed my eyes and anxiously waited for the first spank. WHACK. It rained down on my ass. It was not a spank; it was a wallop that hurt like hell. I whimpered.... Then called out, "ONE!"

WHACK. "TWO!" followed by more whimpering.

"Is this starting to focus your mind on your duties?" Ken asked. "Yes," I replied.

WHACK. "THREE!" with a yelp, louder whimpering, and a tear welling in my eye.

WHACK. "FOUR!" WHACK. "FIVE!"

"Let me ask you: Are you always going to do everything I ask?" "Yes," I again replied

WHACK. "SIX!"

"Are you going to do it exactly as I ask, without fail?" "Yes," I replied as my tears turned to crying and wailing.

WHACK. "SEVEN!"

"Everything exactly as I ask no matter what, immediately, and with no, nada, zero complaining?" "Uh huh," I sobbed. He went on, "Not only zero complaining but thanking me for letting you do what I wish?" "Yes," I mumbled

WHACK, "EIGHT!" WHACK, "NINE"

I was crying and blubbering and screeching with every blow now. I whimpered, "Ken, this really hurts!" He barked, "It's supposed to hurt, you stupid god damn motherfuck. Whaddaya think? I like it when I make you hurt, so don't tempt me. And don't give me any of your shit, you fuckin' cry baby. I know how to really make it hurt!" He quickly took off his belt, folded it over and lashed me hard on the back of my thighs. It stung like hell. "That's just a sample. Now repeat to me clearly the things you just promised."

Ken can be scarry when he erupts in a fit of rage. I thought I should do exactly as he says. "I will always and immediately do anything you tell me to, and thank you for making me do it," I blubbered. "Good. And this will help you not to forget who's boss," he explained. He grabbed the handle with both hands and swung a roundhouse blow to my ass that almost knocked me off the sofa.

"TEN!" I started to get up when, WHACK! "What was that for?" I cried. "For complaining about it hurting. And one more for just now questioning it..." he responded.

WHACK! My tears and crying were unstoppable.

Ken then explained, "Stop your shit-faced crying or I'll give you something to really cry about. I have to go to work now and you need to listen carefully. When I get home I want dinner warming on the stovetop, the table set, wine poured, and you greeting me in slippers, a short skirt with no panties, topless, your hair done nicely and red lipstick the only makeup. Take a bath this afternoon, dry off and sprinkle baby powder on your pussy." He paused momentarily, "Tell me you got every bit of that because if you miss just one little piece I'm going to have to beat the shit out of you tonight." Through my drying tears I answered, "Yes. I have it all, honey. Thank you." I hoped he appreciated that last submissive 'thank you'. I also wondered what other kinds of things he would be telling me to do.

When Ken returned home from work he immediately gave me a close inspection of every piece of clothing I had on, including fingering my pussy to verify it was bare. He then inspected the dining room and made sure that every dish and utensil was exactly in their correct places. He sniffed the wine glasses and checked the temperature of the food warming on the stove. "Excellent, hon," he said as he grabbed my shoulders. "You're doing everything perfect to please me and that makes me hot. You deserve to be fucked and I have to fuck you bad." He unzipped his pants, pulled his cock out, laid me down on the tiled kitchen floor, raised my legs up to my head and stuffed his cock deep in my pussy. Despite his excitement he maintained control and fucked me for a good ten minutes. I had two screaming orgasms while he pounded me and was working on a third when he came deep inside me. "You're the best wife in the world," he complimented as he pulled out and gave me his cock to clean off our juices. We had a good dinner, and then fucked twice more before falling off to sleep.

Saturday after his morning blowjob he told me to weed the beds and mow the grass in the back yard that afternoon. "Wear safe shoes and gloves, a short billowy skirt, no panties, and topless. Nobody can see you from the road but maybe our neighbors can sneak a peek. I hope so because I like to show off my beautiful bride's tits. I'll be watching your tits bounce around, too."