My Husband, My Slave--Part 3 - Sex Stories

My Husband, My Slave--Part 3

CHAPTER 5 I sat at the side of the bed while John positioned himself between my legs, sealing my cunt with his lips. My bladder was full so I pissed for a long time, wondering how John could handle it so easily and how he could stand the taste. I had tasted a drop of my urine before beginning John’s slavery and I almost retched from the taste. I kissed his cheek once I was done and led him to the bathroom where I allowed him to use the toilet. It was the first time he’d been able to pee standing up in the past month. “Get a bath towel and a small hand towel from the closet, John.” I handed him a small scissors and a comb once he had laid the big towel on the floor. “Trim me, John as close as you can without cutting me.” He showed extreme care removing most of my pubic hair. I filled a basin with hot water and dunked the hand towel until it was soaked. John then wrung it out and held it over my abdomen for several minutes. “Shave me, John,” I commanded. I was as bare as a baby when he was done. John ran my bath and proceeded to wash me. We were dried and back in the bedroom when I walked to his closet. He looked shocked. He hadn’t been out of the house or dressed in anything other than the leather cuffs and his cock cage for the past month. “I will decide if you dress, John and I will decide what you’ll wear, too.” I selected a pair of tight jeans and a tee shirt. Under other circumstances I would have him skip the underwear, but today I thought it might be necessary so I ...

... selected a pair of loose boxers. I dressed in a tight sleeveless polo and black Capri’s. We were in the car five minutes later. Of course, I drove. John didn’t normally abuse alcohol, but he’d had two DUI arrests in the six months before I had enslaved him. It was just one of the reasons I felt that I had to take control. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d be devastated if anything happened to him. Soon I expected that I’d be able to sell his car. It was a high-end Nissan Maxima—loaded with options--and it was only two years old. John was restricted to driving to and from work because of his DUI’s—no work, no need for a car. One of my subordinates had expressed an interest and I’d make sure the price was right—much lower than either Edmunds or Kelly Blue Book. “John, we’re going to be tattooed. I’m getting a small heart on one of my ass cheeks. It will be filled in with pink and it will say ‘SOPHIE’ in black print. Yours will be similar except that it will say, ‘SOPHIE’S SLAVE.’ I told you I wouldn’t humiliate you so it will be on your ass where nobody other than me and, perhaps one of my cuckolding partners, will see it. I have already discussed the tattoos with the artist. Don’t forget what I told you last night. I expect your total obedience.” John sat silently, head down, for several minutes as I drove out of town before raising his hand. He spoke once I had granted permission. “Where are we going, Miss Sophie? Are we going out of town?” “Yes, John—of course; I don’t want ...