Suburban Slave Ch. 01

Part 1: Consequences

"Strip, cunt," said my husband as soon as the door closed behind us.

I immediately began wriggling out of my dress as he walked across the room and deposited his six pack of beer in the mini fridge. By the time he closed the fridge door and turned back to me, I was standing naked in the middle of the room in my inspection position.

We had just dropped the kids off at my parents' house and checked in to the Ritz Carlton for the night. We would be heading out to dinner at Ruth's Chris' Steak House in a few minutes. It was going to be a rare, romantic evening with just the two of us. We were both looking forward to it.

But first I had to take a belting.

My name is cunt. I am a forty one year old housewife from Connecticut. My husband is a prominent physician. He is also my owner. I have been my husband's sex slave for seven years.

He named me cunt to remind me that my sole purpose in life is to function as a warm, wet sleeve for his cock. As his slave, my primary job is to keep my holes clean and well-lubricated so they will be available for use at all times. This is my role in life.

I am treated well. My husband is a great father and a good provider. The only difference between myself and a square wife is that I have no say in how and when I am used sexually. My body belongs to my husband. I signed a paper to that effect.

It isn't such a bad life. My husband doesn't share me with other men, only the occasional stripper. He has a knack for picking out the girls who might be interested in taking an extra hundred for the privilege of sitting on the face of a doctor's wife. He never touches the strippers. He just watches them whip my pussy as they squat over me. Some of them are nice. My husband sometimes allows me to hump myself against one of their shoes if I do a good job. The strippers always laugh.

I am used primarily as a sex slave, not a pain slut. I am only punished if I am disobedient or make a mistake. Like today.

"Let's try this again, you stupid cow. Hole position."

I immediately opened my mouth wide, spreading my legs as wide as possible and bending slightly forward at the waist. I reached back with both hands and spread my ass cheeks. This is hole position. This is how I stand every morning after getting out of the shower so my husband can inspect my holes.

He always starts with my upper-cunt, sliding two or three fingers around inside my mouth. Then he moves to my lower-cunt, inserting one or two fingers before finally moving on to my hind-cunt. All my holes have been trained to accommodate my owner's large cock, so there is never any pain. Hole inspection always ends with my husband re-inserting his fingers in to my mouth for cleaning.

This is where I fucked up today.

When he brought his fingers up for cleaning this morning, I closed my mouth. I don't know what came over me. I just didn't feel like tasting my ass at the moment. Big mistake. Huge. My husband wiped his fingers on my hair, then slapped my tits as hard as he could. Then he told me what my punishment would be.

I had earned a belting. A triple-twenty.

A triple-twenty belting consisted of twenty strokes each across the ass, tits and cunt. It was a severe punishment which was used sparingly. The last time I endured this treatment was when I let myself gain more than five pounds above my allowable weight. I couldn't walk straight for a week.

In this case, my insolence toward my owner easily justified the use of the punishment.

I remained in hole position as my husband walked slowly up to me. He reached in to my mouth with two fingers and withdrew the panties he had stuffed in to my upper-cunt about thirty minutes earlier. At the hotel, I had gone through the entire check-in process while sucking on my own underwear. It's amazing how well you can communicate with hand gestures and head nods when you have to.

My husband unfurled my sodden panties, then casually pulled them over my head and face, using them as a crude blindfold. I would not be able to see the belt coming. That would make it worse. Then I felt him inspecting my lower-cunt. I was not surprised that I was wet. I had been trained to derive sexual pleasure from being humiliated and degraded. This is what made me such a good slave. I liked it.

I didn't like pain, though.

After sloshing around in my lower-cunt for a few more seconds, my husband turned his attention to my hind-cunt. He pulled lightly on the large plug in my ass. I had been plugged since we left for the airport in the morning. It was part of my punishment. I had a few scary moments going through security, but apparently the TSA is not interested in finding or removing butt plugs from the asses of suburban housewives.

Presently I felt my husband slowly withdrawing the plug. I grunted as the large head was pulled past my sphincter, then I felt it pop out.

"Not too bad," said my husband. "Just a few flecks. I thought it would be a little messier after being in for seven hours."

Without warning, he shoved the large plug in to my open mouth.

"I'm sure the other guests don't want to hear your mewling , cow."

I closed my lips around the plug and waited.

"Where do you want if first, cunt?"

He always asked. I answered the same way each time. It's always easiest to start with the ass.

"Affs, thir" I said around the large plug in my mouth.

"Sorry, honey, but I can't understand you with that filthy plug in your mouth," he laughed.

He paused for a moment.

"Why don't we start with the udders?"

Then I heard him unbuckling his belt.