Worlds Best Diet Plan - Jingle Bell

"I'm so proud of you for losing all that weight son," Mom said while offering me more pie at Thanksgiving.

I declined with a wave of my hand. "No more. I still need to lose four pounds to get down to forty."

"I wish your brothers would lose a little weight."

"Maybe they don't have the right incentive," I said.

"What incentive do you have, Sam? Maybe I can pass it on to them."

I don't suppose that you can tell your Mom that it's so you can turn your wife into your personal sex slave for two days and fuck her up one side and down the other. Marcia's ears had pricked up when she heard Mom ask that question. They got along pretty well, but that was definitely in the TMI department.

"Two days at this really fancy resort where they pamper you outrageously," I said. "I am really looking forward to some coddling after all the work I've put in losing this weight."

I glanced at Marcia and noticed she blushed red at my insinuation that I was going to get a lot of pampering. Mom missed the interplay between us but that was all for the best. The thing of it was, our sex life had never been better, even without the slavery thing. I had more energy, more endurance, everything was working like a well oiled machine and Marcia was receiving the benefits of all that pep. Instead of sex once or twice a week, we were going at it like rabbits 3-4 times a week. Hey, I love my wife and when she looks as hot as she does and I've got the energy to stay with her, good things are going to happen. As far as it went, this diet thing was already a winner as far as I was concerned. Except for two little things. You already know what those are.

As the days counted down to Christmas, I worked out like a son-of-a-bitch. More aerobics, more swimming, less weight work for now. I did not want to be adding more muscle when all I wanted to do was drop four more pounds. The last week, I was weighing myself every morning. I didn't tell Marcia how close I was, but I was hanging there at 39, 39, 39 and then with 2 days left before Christmas, 40. I kept pushing for another pound because I didn't want there to be any doubt at my last weigh in. I did, however, start humming 'It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas,' except I was substituting 'It's Beginning to Look Like Naked Christmas,' under my breath.

On Christmas Eve morning before she went to work, I went for my final weigh-in. She eyed the scale with the same amount of trepidation as I was feeling when I stepped on.

"219. You lost 41 pounds. Congratulations, Sam."

"Thank you, thank you very much," doing a poor imitation of Elvis. "What time do you get done with work tonight?"

"Six," she said, nervously. Good, she had every right to be nervous.

"When you get home, after you've closed the garage door, strip off all of your clothes. I like my slaves to be naked. When you walk from the garage into the house, your 48 hours of sexual slavery begins. Your instructions as to your duties and responsibilities as my slave will begin at that time."

I tried to get some work done while she was gone, but it was hopeless. I was incapable of processing rational thought. All day long, I nervously moved about the house with a boner. I refused to do anything about it for fear that it would reduce my performance later. I set out all of the little toys that I had previously purchased in various places about the house where I thought they would be the most useful. The wrist and ankle cuffs and the smallest butt plug went into the bathroom. Most of the stuff went into the bedroom, but I find that all rooms in the house are useful for having sex, so some of it went elsewhere.

As the time of her arrival from work got closer, I closed all the blinds in the house so the neighbors would not see all the stuff I planned to happen, then I grabbed the collar with the tag attached and just sat in the family room waiting to hear the garage door open. Finally it happened. I heard to garage door go up, and the garage door go down. There were no other sounds coming from the garage. Getting naked I hoped or there would be punishment administered as soon as she walked through the door. The door opened and in walked the most breathtaking sight in the world, my wife, stripped naked as a jaybird and prime sex slave material.

"6:35 PM. That is the time your slavery ends on Sunday. Kneel," I said. "With your knees apart, your hands clasped behind your head."

She got down on her knees and spread her legs, her hands going behind her head which pulled her breasts up into these unbelievable globes of deliciousness. God, my wife was gorgeous. I was going to love this so much. I walked over to her and spread her legs a little wider, made her sit up a little straighter and pull her arms back a touch more.

"This is slave position 1. When I enter any room in which you are in, you will automatically assume position 1. If you enter a room in which I am present, you will immediately assume position 1 and then get my attention. If I give this hand signal," I showed her my right hand down with the palm parallel to the floor, "you will assume position 1. You must pay attention to me at all times as this hand signal may be the only indication you receive to assume that position. This position is very important to the slave and master. It shows her subservience to her master and immediately brings attention to those assets which the master finds pleasing, her breasts and her sex. He knows that she is his and is offering those parts of herself for her master's pleasure. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Yes what, slave?" I demanded.

"Yes, Master."

"That's better."

I fondled her breasts, squeezing the pliant flesh. I felt her nipples grow hard, whether from my attention or the cool air, I didn't know. When they were fully erect and the skin of her areola was puckered and dimpled, I gave her nipples a light twist and then pulled them out from her body, stretching the malleable skin until they were pulled a full inch and a half from their normal position. I heard her soft intake of breath, then released them, watching her breasts wobble.

"Every time I give a command, I expect you to immediately comply to the best of your ability. Any delay in compliance or failure to comply will result in an appropriate punishment being administered. Punishment will be received for all infractions, no exceptions. But you must also realize that there are times that punishment will be administered for no reason other than your master wishes to. You may have been pleasing to him, but perhaps a reminder is needed that you must always be pleasing. If you are being punished, you will kiss the instrument of that punishment, be it my hand, a paddle, the whip, and you will say 'Punish me, Master, so that I may be a better slave for you.' Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master. May a slave ask a question?"

"A slave may."

"A slave can be punished for no reason at all? I can be perfect in all of my duties and responsibilities and I may still be punished?"

"You may. Sometimes a Master wishes to watch his slave squirm. It is very erotic to see a naked slave twitch and jump as a hand is applied to her delicious ass or her breasts dance to escape the stings of a whip. If it is erotic to her master, it is a slaves duty to comply."

"Yes, Master."

"But to be honest, it will usually be for an infraction that a slave is punished, and not because she is a perfectly delicious piece of slave meat. Now, it's time to learn about position 2. Stand up, legs spread, more than shoulder width apart, hands behind your head as in position 1."

She leapt up and assumed the position immediately, as a good slave should. I nudged her feet a little farther apart.

"This is also the display position and instead of saying position 2, I may say 'display', and you will assume this position. There is also a hand signal for this position," I waved my arm out from the chest, parallel to the ground, "and when given this signal, you will respond and display."

"You will notice that in this position; your breasts, your sex, your ass, hell, your whole body other than the soles of your feet are exposed to the master and so it makes an excellent punishment position. I will often use this position to punish you. Sometimes, I will expect you to just hold this position as you are punished, and if you break position in any way, the punishment will be more severe. Other times, you may be tied in this position, either for punishment or because I love displaying your body this way for my enjoyment and you cannot be expected to hold it for very long on your own."

I glanced at her legs, which while not doing the splits, were rather widely separated and may be undergoing some strain. I ran a hand across her ass, down her right leg, taking my own sweet time, then over to her left and back up to her cleft. I'd been wondering what her submissive postures and talk of punishment might be doing to her and was pleased to note a certain moistness as my hand brushed her vaginal lips. Continuing this thought, I suddenly pushed my middle finger into her pussy, causing a quick gasp on her part and noted that the wetness extended to the interior as well. It was quite juicy.

"I believe you're going to make a perfect sex slave," I said, wiggling my finger from side to side, then sliding another up to join it. "You're already demonstrating many fine slave attributes, including the ability to juice up quickly."

She blushed, but I felt her sheath pressing and massaging my fingers and the flow of her sex fluids increase, as did her breathing. I removed my fingers from her damp sex and slid them up over her stomach, her perfect breasts and her taut nipples until they reached her mouth. I nudged my fingers at her lips until they parted and she was tasting herself on them. She licked and cleaned herself from my fingers.

"Rule number 1 was absolute obedience. Rule number 2 is that a slave may not cum until given permission to do so. Cumming without the master's permission is a punishable offense. Your orgasms now belong to me. I shall withhold permission sometimes because I want you to cum with me. Other times I will just want to see you wriggle as you try to delay the inevitable. Repeat that back."

"A slave may not cum without the permission of her master."

I said, "Position 1" and she immediately knelt down on the floor with all the correct posture. I took the collar which I'd kept in my pocket and showed her the tag, 'Sam's Sex Slave". I put the collar around her neck. It locked with a small golden lock to which I had the key.

"Next, I expect my slaves to be clean shaven. You will go to the shower and shave all of the hair off your cunt and ass. Shave it close. I may have to pull any hairs out that you have not shaved off. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then go. What are you waiting for, a punishment?"

She sprang to her feet and scurried to the bathroom. I think my little sex slave was really trying to avoid any punishments. As if I would ever let that happen. I pondered upon what she was most afraid of, the tawse, the paddle, or the whip. It would be marvelous finding out. I also wondered if she noticed the cuffs and butt plug on the counter before she jumped in the shower. I slowly wandered into the bedroom and stripped off all of my clothes. My dick was harder than a titanium rod. I glanced in the bathroom at the shower, and noticed her seated on the floor with her legs spread out shaving the hair off her sex.

Excellent, I thought. This was going to be even better than I imagined. She was definitely not wimping out and doing her utmost to be a marvelous sex slave.

When I heard the water stop, I stepped into the bathroom. Marcia was stepping out of the shower, drying herself off; a modern day Venus de Milo. She didn't notice me standing there at first and when she did, she almost forgot to drop into position 1, but it only took her about 2 seconds to make the connection, so I gave her a pass on that one.

"Display!" I commanded and she stood with the obligatory, "Yes, Master."

I grabbed the ankle cuffs and knelt down in front of her. I put one about around her left ankle, then the mate on the right. Since I was in the neighborhood, I looked at the job she did removing her pubic hair. Smooth, very smooth. My lips were intrigued with her lips so I leaned forward and took a little lick and a little nibble. She thrust her hips forward against my mouth, a small moan escaping her lips. Music to my ears. After a few more licks on that smooth flesh, including a lingering suckle of her clitoris, I stood up, stepped behind her and put the wrist cuffs on. I then reached around her and grabbed her breasts. I made sure they had my full attention for the next few minutes until her nipples were once again stiff and pert. She was pressing her breasts into my hands. Obviously, she appreciated my attention on one of her finer qualities.

I stopped which caused a brief sigh of frustration from Marcia.

"I bought you a present for Christmas. You may open it slave.

"Thank you, Master." She said, opening the present.

She tore off the paper and inside was a small jewelry box from our favorite jeweler.

"Master, what is this?"

"Open it and find out."

She opened the box and inside was a gold chain with loops at each end with little bells dangling from each loop. She pulled it out.

"Is this a necklace, Master?"

"No, a nipple chain. Let me show you."

I gave each of her nipples a quick suck to make sure they remained pert, then cinched one of the loops around one of her nipples, a bell dangling below that lovely little nubbin. I attached the other loop to her other nipple with it's own tinkly bell. It was a lovely chain and really set off her sweet tits.

"Silver Bells, Silver Bells, It's Christmas time in the city. Silver bells. Silver bells, Soon it will be Christmas Day," I sang, slightly off key. "I will be able to track your location by the jingling of your little slave jingle bells." I jiggled her tits to hear them ring. "We are going to have a naked Christmas, my little slave. The only time that we will dress is when we go out to dinner tomorrow night, but that's for another day. Right now, I need you to bend over. We're going to put this little butt plug in your ass."

"Master, must we? Can you not just use your slave in the normal way?"

"Failing to follow instructions is a punishable offense. That will be 20 swats on your ass. Would you like to make that 40?"

Marcia reluctantly bent over. I put some lubricant on the butt plug and smeared a little more on her ass, pushing my slippery finger into her anus a couple times to really lube it up. I placed the tip of the butt plug against the sphincter of her little brown rosebud and started pushing. It reluctantly gave way under the pressure. She grunted as her asshole slowly spread before the force I was exerting. It was a small plug and it reached it's widest point and then slid in, almost as if her ass was sucking it in.

"Stand up and tell me how it feels."

"It feels very full, Master."

"Is it painful?" I asked.

"Uncomfortable more than painful, Master."

"Follow me to the bedroom, slave."

She dutifully followed me into the bedroom. I sat on the side of the bed with my knees over the edge and I told her to climb over my legs; that it was time for her 20 swats for failing to follow my instructions. She didn't want to increase the punishment, so she bent over my legs. I pulled her a little more so that her ass was centered on my lap and her head was to my left. I presented my hand to her lips and she kissed it and said, "Punish me Master, so that I may be a better slave for you."

Her butt plug had a red crystal base and it was staring at me like an eye. It also made a good bulls-eye. My hand came down hard on her right cheek, then her left. Her ass jiggled beautifully when my hand struck it, almost flowing in little waves. The intoxication of it. My lovely wife, bent over my legs, her lovely ass staring me in the face and I was raising my hand to smack that piece of tight, muscular, globular goodness eighteen more times. Could life get any better.

The first ten went rather quickly with only muted grunts coming from Marcia as my hand found there mark. The eleventh caused a little squeal and I stopped and rubbed her ass for a few moments, soothing the reddened flesh.

"Master, may a slave ask a question?"

"Yes, slave, what is it?"

"Master mentioned a safe word. Could his slave have one, please?"

"Do you need it immediately?" This could definitely cause a crimp in all my plans if eleven little swats on the ass were causing a problem.

"No master. I just thought it prudent to have one."

I sighed contentedly, "Certainly. Your safe word is 'I'm a cum hungry slave who needs to be fucked in the ass right now,' which is technically more than one word, but should dissuade you of using it unless it's absolutely necessary as we will immediately cease whatever is causing you the pain and immediately start fucking you in the ass."

"Master what if what is causing the pain is being fucked in the ass?"

"That would be a dilemma wouldn't it. Hhmmm." I mused. "If I'm fucking you in the ass, just change the wording to 'I'm a cum hungry slave who needs to be fucked in the cunt right now.' That should take care of the rare occasions where that might be necessary."

"I noticed that Master obtained a ball gag for his slave, what if a slave is unable to speak when the safe word must be spoken?"

"Good point. There may be other things in your mouth as well making it difficult to speak." I saw her entire body flush red as she realized the implications of that. "In that case, hold up two fingers, and I will know my little slave wants to be fucked in the ass, or hold up one and I shall know she's asking to be fucked in her cunt."

"Yes, Master."

"Now, where were we," I said tapping the red crystal atop the butt plug lodged in her ass, causing her to squirm deliciously on my lap. "Was that 8 strokes, or 9, I lost count." I hadn't really, but wanted to see if she was keeping count.

"Eleven, Master!" my slave quickly exclaimed.

"Eleven. Since it was your question that made me lose count, maybe I'll go with ten, just to be on the safe side."

"Yes, Master."

I started counting with the next swats, pausing every couple to rub her red ass cheeks and give her plug another couple taps. She gave a tiny squeal with each swat as I was making sure each of them was a little harder than the previous one. I also noticed that her legs were beginning to part slightly more with each slap until her right leg was almost falling to the floor. Also parting were the folds of her sex, opening for me like a lovely flower, moisture like dew forming on the petals, the smell of her arousal permeating the air. For the last one, my palm came down hard on her plug and my fingers slapped her bare sex as well. She grunted and moaned a bit as it was forced deeper in her ass and my fingers snapped against her labial lips. I immediately tested her readiness, by sliding two fingers into her cunt which I found exquisitely tight and soaking wet.

"Lie crosswise across the bed, on your back, with your head hanging over the edge," I ordered. "Hurry."

She scrambled to obey and in no time she was on the bed as instructed. I climbed up after her and plunged my rock hard cock into that sweet, wet pussy. She gasped as she felt me fill her up because the plug was making it kind of crowded down there. God she felt good. I just kept ramming in and out, running the full length of myself from the head to the root until our pubic bones collided. The bells on her tits were ringing up a storm as her tits wobbled back and forth under my incessant ramming. The question to me was whether I was going to finish in her hot tight box or was I going to deposit a days worth of pent up blue balls in her mouth. Marcia however was not waiting for me to decide.