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“Yes, slave…you may speak.” “May I please have something to clean my face and the floor…Mistress? ” I had the answer to that and it definitely wasn’t yes.

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It’s big and we had often enjoyed showering together, but not today. I’m going to piss into your mouth and you’re going to swallow it. You’ll lick up anything that spills.” Shaking my head, I refused. I wasn’t being submissive—she couldn’t piss into my mouth in this position. “You know how I hate profanity and it’s disrespectful, too.

This wasn’t anything close to my idea of fun and I wasn’t going to do it. You need to call me ‘Mistress’ whenever you speak which I’m sure you know from your reading should be infrequently. Any love I’d had for her had vanished over the last hour.

I think in time you’ll really enjoy serving me—not everything, of course, but that’s the nature of life. Since you’re down there why don’t you start by adoring my feet? “Let me correct myself,” I groaned once I had regained my breath. You’ll be branded as a sex offender for the rest of your life.” “First of all, you’d never press charges against me so don’t even think of threatening me. I staggered up to my hands and knees and sealed my mouth around her cunt. I went when I got up so there’ll only be a little and the rate should be slow, too.” I wasn’t at all reassured, but I had no choice. I hated the taste--God, it was awful-- but she was right. She patted my head like I was some kind of dog and led me into our bedroom.

” I looked at her as though she was crazy, but lowered my head to the floor. Now move your mouth to my pussy.” I was in a world of pain, but still I refused. I’ll really shock you if you ever say something like that again. Well, it was “our” bedroom and “our” bed this morning. I remained stationary outside her closet while she retrieved something.

Once she was inside she learned the problems of having me in a humbler all the time.

I couldn’t do anything while I was kneeling and if she removed the humbler I’d rebel for sure.

NOTE: This is a love story that has threads of BDSM running through it, including real cruelty and torture. Like all of my stories that, as well as the sex, is an integral part of the story’s plot.

INTRODUCTION: This is the story of Sheila and Tom Hamilton—of their marriage, divorce, and reconciliation as Tom slowly finds the way to forgiveness.

She wakes me by shaking me violently in frustration as the alarm continues its horrible intermittent blaring.

I guess she proved it last night—I was really changed when I woke up this morning. Then I promise to remove it.” “Okay, I’ll play along,” I said resignedly. Rather than just remove it she got up and stepped behind me. The next thing I knew my hands were secured in handcuffs, not tightly, but tight enough that I wasn’t going to get them off.

In fact, keep quiet unless I ask you a direct question.” She fingered the remote as she asked if I understood. “See, you’re learning already.” She beamed with pride at her obvious dominance. She walked me all around the back yard, even telling me to “heel” like I was her dog.

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