30 comments/ 38472 views/ 25 favorites I Know What I Am Doing, Honey By: Wifetheif This story tells the events of "How Much Do You Think I would Bring?" From the wife's perspective. ***** I really CAN'T say that it was George's fault but his pornography watching habits gave me the initial idea. I walked in on him watching a porno of a wife auction. Usually I' don't care what my husband spanks his monkey to, just so long as he is ready to go when I need him. I DO put my foot down somewhat, he is not allowed gross stuff, like that "barely legal" crap. For the most part, however, I let him do his thing. For whatever reason the movie George was watching really got under my skin, in the best way. It was a wife auction. I knew it was a fantasy, but what a turn on. The idea of standing on stage starkers while being bid on by total strangers was undeniably hot! I was struck by something. I realized that I was every bit as pretty as the actresses in that porno. No actually I was aware that I was prettier. I'm not vain. I've been turning boy's heads since I was twelve. I have long brown hair, lovely legs, My Tits are the largest C cup, perfect for my frame. I work out to keep my tummy taut and trim, My face was used in some local advertisements when I was in college. My skin is nice, and I take care of it. I have no tattoos or any major visible scars. I had lots of attention when I was in high school and college but George put in a supreme effort to garner my attention. He was one of the few to focus on the woman I am and was interested in me beyond just the bedroom. When I married George, after turning down a doctor and a stockbroker, my friends thought I was crazy. They said that I was marrying beneath myself. That may have been true, but George made me very happy. He is terrific, if a bit unimaginative in the sack, and has always put me first. I love him dearly. As I said that movie really got under my skin. I had asked Gorge, when he was watching that porno, "How much do you think I would, bring?" George became animated and told me that if I were to go up for sale he would never be able to afford me. I was flattered. They way George stated the words I knew he was not just being a gentleman. He sincerely believed that I would bring a fortune on the auction block. The thought had a profound effect on me. More often then not, after that night, when I played with myself, I imagined myself up on a stage somewhere, a prize to be bid on, a stranger waiting to be rewarded with my body. Sometimes when George and I made love I pretended that he was some trust fund millionaire who had bid on me and was ordering me around. I tried to get George interested in some role play but he's just not that kind of guy. He still managed to get me off but I was sure it could be so much better. George is very mellow, I often wish he had some sharper edges but he was as fine a husband as a woman could want. We had a pretty good life. Nice home, good jobs for both of us. George did very well with his salary. We would never set the world on fire, but with what he and I made we could obtain everything we wanted. I liked my job, which was challenging but not too strenuous. George and I were so settled into domestic bliss that we began to talk about children. I did not think either of us was ready yet, and we decided to wait at least a year. Our world was a nice confection of bliss and comfort. Then the bottom fell out. The Pentagon decided to cut most of its contracts with George's company. Miraculously, he was not let go but he lost well over a third of his salary. As for me, I worked for one of the subcontractors to George's company. My job vanished utterly. Even though we had been careful with our money and had some savings, it wasn't long before we could hear the wolf howling and panting outside our door. Both of us scrambled for other work and part time jobs but nothing turned up. Despairing, one night I typed "wife auctions" into the search engine of my PC. Most of it was a trove of erotic stories and fantasy pictures but one advertisement caught my eye. "The Company," looked very interesting. For the next several hours I followed link after link. I was so turned on that I played with myself twice as I sat at my computer. I was so keyed up that I later went down on George and then rode him like he was Secretariat and I was his jockey. It was fabulous! What had begun as a pleasant thought in my mind suddenly became an avenue to free us from the financial doldrums George and I were in. I decided to call "The Company" the next morning. My phone conversation was VERY enlightening. I realized that "The Company" was NOT a fly by night snare for the gullible but a serious business with an international reach. No it was not strictly speaking legal, but that did not bother me. Our country has regressive laws on Marijuana, drugs, and prostitution. I was raised differently. I was raised to BE different. I e-mailed my contact at "The Company" a series of photos of me in a skimpy bikini that George had taken on our vacation at the Cape. The fact that they did not request nudes immediately, made feel better about the organization from the beginning. After a week and a half of phone calls, e-mails, and loads of testimonials from women who had availed themselves of "The Company" my mind was made up. I realized that George had seriously underestimated my value. In exchange for a single year of my life, we could earn millions. Of course during that year I could not utter the word "no" to whoever bought me and would have to give them whatever sex and as much sex as they desired. In exchange they could not permanently mark me or abuse me. Still, for a year of my life, George and I could be on easy street forever! The hard part would be selling it to George. I knew that he would come around eventually. My husband can deny me nothing. IF he puts up too much of a fuss I play my trump card. If I threaten to leave Gorge he becomes a huge, fearful pussycat. He thinks I can do better. George has often told me that any day he expects me to "come to my senses" and leave him for a more handsome face or a thicker wallet. A husband should NEVER give his wife that kind of ammunition! One Saturday George came home from part time job hunting when I hit him with every weapon in my arsenal. I was waiting with a kiss, a beer, and a short dress sans panties,when I steered him to his favorite chair and went to work on him. George raised many arguments but I had done my homework. I answered every one of my husband's objections. In the end I only had to threaten him with divorce once. I felt guilty about it because it really is a dirty trick but I knew that George feared losing me forever more than he feared losing me for a year. In the end I promised George that after a year of being the slave of some stranger I would be HIS slave for my first year back in his arms. That was the final bait I used to land George. The session of anal didn't hurt either. In the end I was able to convince my husband. I told him in no uncertain terms, "I Know What I Am Doing, Honey." At long last George believed me. I was still worried that George would find someway to sabotage me. I calmed his nerves every chance I could and gave him as much sex as he wanted whenever he wanted it. I felt bad that he would have to be celibate for a year, so I gave him permission to avail himself of the occasional hooker. I think I had screwed the last of his fears out of him when we went to the big city to visit the offices of "The Company." I knew what to expect, but George was impressed by the fine furnishings of the office and the demeanor of its employees. Our host, Vincent, was quite dashing and had a persuasive air about himself. He did a lot to calm George down. His assistant, Marla, also went a long way to convince George. George could not take her eyes off of her. She was a striking if short, blonde with a huge bust who was a veteran of the program. She was open enough to show us her tax returns. Her year of service had been listed as "entertainment director." Now she shepherded newcomers through the program. Marla was also a first class photographer. I left George in Vincent's company for a few hours while I disappeared into a back room with Marla, stripped down and posed for my "catalog photographs." Marla had me relaxed and feeling my best in no time. Her pictures floored me with their simultaneous loveliness and erotic charge. I was so happy with my husband signing all of the many forms Vincent and Marla placed before us that when I got him back to our hotel, I fucked him with the most intensity I had ever shown. To be honest I surprised myself. George had no way of knowing that I was really imagining that his cock belonged to the rich stranger that had just bought me. I realized that I would have no problems whatsoever fulfilling my contract. At least I THOUGHT so. George's smile that night as he slept was positively luminous. Part of me was sad. I realized that, no matter how talented the stranger who purchased me for a year, there would still be days when I would miss George's touch and would crave his cock. We concocted a cover story about my ailing Aunt Ida. Ida lived on the other side of the country. In truth she needed no help whatsoever. Aunt Ida was a fiery independent spinster, but no one outside of George and myself knew that. I canceled my magazines, returned all of my books to the library and, when I wasn't reassuring George, mentally prepared myself. I had to laugh at George's surprise when our plane and Limo tickets arrived in the mail. When the big day came I found myself puzzled as to what to wear. George slid into his best suit, but etiquette books don't give advice on what to wear on your way to auction yourself off. In the end I decided on one of my slinkier black dresses. Under this I wore lacy black underthings and thigh high black stockings. A nice pair of heels and I was ready to go. I decided to forgo any jewelry besides a string of pearls and my wedding band and engagement ring. The plane flight was first class all the way. "The Company" caters to the wealthiest of the wealthiest. Our plane was a chartered corporate model. There were six other passengers on the plane. Two wives and their husbands, and a sister combination. All of the wives and the younger sister were scheduled to be auctioned. The husbands tried to hide it with smiles and jokes, but I could tell that they were all as nervous and fearful as George. The other women and I sized each other up. There was a blonde, two redheads, and a raven tressed lynx with green eyes. Silently we estimated how much our rivals would bring. We dined on the french cuisine provided, sipped the wine and engaged in nervous conversation. George and I like the other married couples on the plane, engaged in a lot of kissing and hugging. There was talk of joining the "mile high" club but "The Company had asked us all to not engage in intercourse this day. We thought maybe they would check so we contented ourselves with giving our men handies and bjs in the restroom. Our plane landed in Miami just after dark. We put ourselves back together and exited the plane. We were parked in a distant area of the airport and a line of limousines was waiting for each couple. I told George, "There is no turning back now." as we settled into the back seat. George noted that the windows were all blacked out. We would have no idea where the sale would take place. George opened the champagne and we necked and kissed like teenagers. I don't know how much time passed but eventually our chauffer announced, " Mr. And Mrs. Hampton, we will be at our destination in approximately forty-five minuets. You had best say your goodbyes now." He then soothed George by saying, "Don't worry Mr. Hampton, we'll have her back in a year, right as rain." I chose that moment to give George the best blow job I had ever given him. I slid up and down his cock, teasing him and backing him off several times before he came. I took in every drop of George's man juice, winked at him and visibly swirled it around my mouth before I swallowed every drop. The look on George's face was priceless. I knew that I would remember that contented look often in the year ahead. At last our Limo stopped. The passenger doors on both sides of the limo opened simultaneously. Two very large and very handsome men looked in at me, "Step this way Mrs. Hampton." one of them said to me. I heard his opposite number tell George to follow him. George and I, having already said everything we could, exchanged a quick kiss and allowed ourselves to be parted. I lost sight of George immediately. I must say that my stomach was full of rather large butterflies as I followed the men. We were in an arena of some sort, Our walk ended at a large dressing room. Some women were already there and before long I was joined by the women I had shared the plane with. There was light music in the background, h'orderves, and sparkling cider. We sat and made ourselves comfortable. I gathered that everyone who was expected had arrived when Vincent entered our dressing room. "Ladies," he said, "Your moment of truth has arrived. As of the moment you entered this room your contract with 'The Company' has gone into effect. As to what happens now. Presently you will all be issued boxes for your effects. Please place your EVERY article in the box. As you know, you will be auctioned stark naked and collared at the end of your sale. Your husbands will be able to observe tonight's proceedings but you will not be able to see or hear them. The advance from your sale will be given to your husband or representative when tonight's proceedings come to an end. Once you are collared you become the property of your owner for the next 365 days. Your owner will be responsible for you from tonight onwards. Your owner's agreement with the company is very specific you ALL have been briefed on what is permitted and what is not permitted. As you are led off the stage you will be given a cell phone. It can call ONLY the company. You are to use it if you feel that your contract is being violated. One of our mediators will be available." Vincent stopped speaking and a man entered the dressing room with an arm full of boxes. He distributed one to each of us and then made his retreat. "Ladies, it is now time to strip off." said Vincent. He made no move to exit the room. Knowing that we would soon be appearing before a crowd of men and women in our birthday suits, we began to undress. I had no problems getting naked. Then I noticed the separate ring box for my rings and the enormity of what I was doing hit me with full force. My eyes filled with tears as I twisted off my wedding and engagement rings. I placed them in the box. It shut with a soft pop. It sounded to me like the loudest, scariest noise in the world. I forced those thoughts out of my head and instead focused on what was immediately ahead of me. It was such a turn on. I could feel myself getting wet already. I looked at my pussy. I had shaved myself under orders of the company this morning. It was very strange to think that for the next year I would not even own my own private parts. My head was full of all sorts of images. Would I be bought by a man or a woman? If it was a man, would he be handsome? Would I be able to satisfy his needs? My reverie was interrupted when my clothing box was collected by a boy who could not have been much past his teens. He eyed me head to toe as he gathered up my effects. I saw him repeat himself as he gathered up the rest of the clothing boxes in the room. His obvious erection pointed the way as he left the room. Finally it was time for the first of us to be sold. She was a gorgeous, ivory skinned redhead. We all wished her luck and hoped that she would bring an impressive price. For those of us left behind, the tension was enormous. We had no idea in what order we would be sold. It was very good that there was no alcohol in our dressing room. With all of that tension we would have drunk ourselves blotto in no time. Finally my time came. A very large and powerfully built man in a tuxedo led me through the backstage area to the rim of the stage. I was ushered forward and suddenly I was in the spotlight at center stage. The fulfillment of my fantasy had be positively leaking down below. I thought, dimly, of George and wondered where he was in the arena. I could see nothing beyond the lights of the stage. I saw my catalog pictures projected upon the wall behind me and the auctioneer began to rattle off numbers. I was too focused on not falling over and smiling as prettily as possible that for the longest time I did not really hear how much the bidding was going. When the numbers DID begin to register I thought that it must be a mistake. I went for well over nineteen million dollars! Two masked handlers led me to another spotlight where a black silk pillow awaited. I knelt down and felt my hair being parted. I felt the collar circle my neck as though it were happening to a stranger. The weight surprised me. It was not as heavy as I had expected but I realized that in the year ahead I would be constantly aware of its presence. I was leashed and then led off the stage to meet my "owner." I was led to a small conference room. Along the way my handler picked up a small cell phone box. In the room, my hooded handler stood at my side, still holding my leash. His silence and the silence of the room was very intimidating. At last my owner arrived. He was tall and past fifty. He carried a small valise. Aside from a noticeable paunch, he appeared to be in excellent shape. He wore a designer suit of the finest quality. His salt and pepper head of hair was full and curly. His caramel complexion convinced me that he was originally from Latin America, perhaps he was originally Cuban, he looked rather handsome and distinguished. He took my leash from my handler. "Greetings slave," he said with a slight accent. " You will refer to me ALWAYS as Master I have bought you and I intend to use you at my leisure. I will clothe. you, feed you, and bathe you. You no longer have a name or any identity beyond being my possession. Your responsibility is to follow my orders to the letter. In exchange I think we will have a very enjoyable time. Before we begin our year together, I would like a blow job. Come here slave and feed on your Master's rod. Yes, you WILL swallow every drop." I froze. The fantasy had become reality. Here was a total stranger ordering intimacy from me. Suddenly aware I knew absolutely nothing about this man, the enormity of what I had just allowed to happen to myself hit me like a blackjack to the back of my skull. Suddenly I missed George with a profound ache. Despite tremendous fears I found myself squatting on the carpet, my trembling hands reaching for the fly on my owner's trousers. His cock was enormous. I looked up and met steel resolve in his large gray eyes. Tentatively I began to suck him off. After a few moments I warmed to the task. I imagined it was George's tool I was operating. Even though I had set the pace, his actual ejaculation caught me by surprise. For A moment I thought that I would fail to catch all of his seed. Fortunately I was able to display my open mouth filled with his spunk. Then I closed my mouth and made sure that he watched me swallow. "Satisfactory. When I get you home we will test out your asshole and pussy. If you are very obedient, very eager to please and very enthusiastic, you will share my bed tonight. If those things are not readily apparent you will be caged until your morale improves." He stared at me with serious look and asked, "Do you understand me?" I gazed up at him from the floor and at last found my voice, "Yes, Master." "Rise, slave." I found my feet, I was not especially steady, a fact I hoped that he didn't notice. I Know What I Am Doing, Honey Ch. 02 After repeated requests here is part II ***** I realized that I had no idea how much time had passed since I had gone up on stage and this new phase of my life begun. It was near dawn when we came to a stop in front of an impressive manse. My Master, announced, "This will be your home for the next year slave. Of course, not all of your time will be spent here. I read your bio in the catalog so I know that you are a woman of above average intelligence, therefore I will explain only SOME of the rules to you, trusting that you will be smart enough to anticipate what I expect. I sincerely hope that you can be trained quickly. The faster you learn the better it is for all of us.Is that clear?" I gazed into his coal black eyes and noticed a hardness I had not noticed before. Knowing there was no turning back I gazed up at my "owner' and tried to convey all of the conviction I could muster. "Yes, Master" I answered sincerely. "Very good. You may be wondering why a man of considerable a means such as myself would invest in what is, essentially a year long rental. The answer is very simple. I enjoy sex, probably more than most men, and I dislike conversation and the mundane minutia of maintaining a relationship. Escorts are simply declasse, marrying a woman just ends in divorce, and this way, just like a car, I can get new model each year. I am a man of exacting and specific tastes, however and I do not tolerate lagging on the learning curve." "I'll do my best, Master." "Your best will not be enough, slave. You are an exceptional woman, I EXPECT you to be exceptional!" He paused, his eyes drank me in, he offered me his arm and said, "Shall we enter my abode, slave?" Once we were through the front the door I immediately began to remove my clothes. That brought a smile to my Master's face. "Already anticipating commands. Perhaps you will actually turn out to be exceptional after all." Naked beside my Master he took me on a quick tour of his house, not all of it, just the rooms that I would be permitted in for the present. The furniture and the decor were, not surprisingly, first class. The pool was large and kidney shaped. He made it a point to walk me past my cage. After the tour I fell to my knees and gave him a second blow job. "Once you have finished taking my seed. It time for you to take a piss, and a shit if you need to, and a bath. I want that perfume scent off of you, I prefer other fragrances. I hope both your pussy and asshole are sufficiently tight I rather not pay for surgery." I realized that from this moment first I would have to ask permission to relieve myself no matter the hour of the day. The bath was a pleasant surprise. My Master has very gentle and skilled hands. For the first time since I was purchased I was able to fully relax as my Master washed me. I gazed at the tan line left by my rings and thought of George. It would be a long, challenging year but the life the two of us could have afterwards would be worth any indignity. I felt the slight bump in my right forearm, an almost imperceptible rise in my skin that camouflaged over a year's worth of birth control, I prayed, for lack of a better term, that it would remain effective for the whole time. I also recalled the metal cage, my Master had shown me that would be my home if I disappointed him and silently vowed to redouble my efforts to not end up there. All too soon my bath idyll came to an end. I was permitted to dry myself, I suddenly realized that I was very tired. I had not slept in quite a while. The night before my sale I had been so anxious that my sleep had been sporadic. I really needed eight hours. But then I realized that even my sleeping habits were now at the mercy of a man who was a total stranger. Once I was dry, my Master lightly doused me with one of the world's more expensive fragrances, the aroma was heavenly. I was handed a toothbrush and floss and a few moments later my master led me to his bedroom. The water bed was huge and circular. The sheets were satin and the pillows were filled with goose down. I knew that the first time would be the most difficult. I could, possibly, have dismissed the blow jobs as exercises that did not amount to adultery; but once his manhood crossed my threshold... On my own initiative, I began to undress him. That brought a smile to his face, "A smart woman is a sexy woman." he said enthusiastically. I tried to undress him in the sexiest way I knew how. I was also careful to hang up his suit rather than just letting it wrinkle on a pile on the floor. From what I had seen of my Master so far, I understood that her treated his possessions with respect. I had a sense that he had been born poor and had come to his wealth through hard work. He was not the sort of man to allow clutter or slovenliness to enter his life. He had the finest things but was still at heart a frugal man. He must have had some serious bad luck with women to have resorted to The Company for companionship. Then again perhaps he did see me as little more than this year's model Mercedes. Perhaps he was one of those guys who treasure their cars. I hoped that he would come to treasure me. It was at this point, that one of the lectures The Company had given me began to replay itself in my head. "What you get out of slavery, depends a great deal upon what you put into it. Our clients are not looking for robots. If all they wanted was an obedient automaton they would purchase a Real Doll or make use of escorts. Our clients want compliance with smiles and laughs. Many of our men look at their slaves as giant onions and take delight in peeling away their layers. That can be a fun filled adventure for the Master and slave or it could be a painful,, humiliating experience that pleases neither slave nor master. Our clients tend to be generous, it is not unheard that they send a slave home with nice expensive gifts and wonderful memories. Conversely, the slave could just go home with a looser pussy and asshole having hated every moment of their time. Which one of those slaves YOU turn out to be is largely in your own hands and attitudes." Those words gave me comfort as I got him down to his silk boxers. His body was not bad aside from the gut. He had powerful legs and arms, I really liked his broad shoulders and nice pecs. For a middle aged man he was an above average specimen. I realized that he was most likely on the downhill side of fifty. Playfully, I knelt before him and worked his shorts off by gently tugging them down using my teeth. He seemed to like that. It was kind of fun and his manhood was a full mast in no time. I seriously doubted that this guy even need so much as a sniff of Viagra. I was smart enough to allow him to lead however. He chose to take my ass first. Mostly wordlessly he directed me to his bed, where I pulled down the sheets and got on all fours in the middle of the bed. The fingers that lubricated my asshole were not hurried or awkward. They were deliberate and gentle. A short time later, his penis worked its way into my rectum with the same gentle deliberation. I wonder if he was a surprised as I was at the sounds of pleasure that I was making a short time later. It was not just his technique, which was excellent, but that I was also giving vent to the stresses of the last few days. This intimacy with a total stranger was somehow comforting. I now knew that he would not be a dictatorial ogre, but was a sensitive man who would only be harsh to me if I merited correction. As he came deep inside me I realized that my year ahead would not be a nightmare. I felt like an onion ready be peeled. ******* I did spend a few nights in the cage but only during the first month. My Master and I soon settled into an easy routine. He was not big on words. If he could communicate with me with gestures, he did. I realized that this was a respite from his occupation. He traded on the commodities and money markets, moving great wealth around as though it were a game of dominoes. All day he barked orders into microphones in his home office. I could always tell how well he had done by how talkative he was at the conclusion of the business day. If he was chatty, the day had been a bad one. I learned on those days to be especially solicitous of him and to tolerate his temper. On days when he made a killing he was like a giant silent mountain lion that occasionally purred delightfully. I was kept stark naked for the first three months. During the first week he really pissed me off by having a beautician come to the house and give me a radical new haircut. I knew that I was permitted nothing from my previous life but I thought the haircut was horrid. My objections led to my first days in the cage. During my third month my Master took me to a charity art auction. I was clad in s sexy and clingy black dress, black stockings, and matching lacy thong and brassier. I was not permitted to speak and could not uncouple from his arm but I had a wonderful time spotting celebrities. Among others, I saw a famous tennis pro and an award winning actor and his date. I admit that I did get a thrill when the actor eyed me up and down while his date was in the restroom. My Master was not terribly kinky. Two or three nights a week he would tie me to a different bed and get his jollies. Despite my vulnerability, he never abused me. He seemed content that I was powerless and at his mercy. He expected some dramatics as he took my pussy and asshole or "tortured" me by tickling me until I cried with either his fingers or an object. He also loved how I reacted when he inserted dildos of various sizes into my every orifice, so I gave him the acting performances he desired. The sessions eventually turned into real fun times for both of us. I did not even mind the times he ordered me to suck off or spend the night with some of his business associates and friends. Some of his friends were real pigs but I knew better than to complain. The only place where my Master was a literal slave driver was in his gym. He had me dress in very skimpy and very sexy work out attire and then, six days a week he put me through several hours of very strenuous exercise. While HE was permitted to carry around a massive gut I was not permitted to gain an ounce. His anal retentive nature came to the fore in his gym, as he weighed me before and after each workout. I was in great shape before he bought me, but my Master was determined to streamline me even more. At first I resented the gym but then I realized that when I was reunited with George, he would be getting a better body back. Even though I came to enjoy my master's company, my husband was not far from my thoughts. I wondered if he missed me as much as I missed him. Yes living in luxury was often fun, but I had to be constantly "on" I could never cry, appear tired or bored. I could never say "no" unless I thought my health was in danger and I had to thank my Mater for every nicety under the sun, like being permitted to eat or to use the bathroom. I even had to thank my Master after one of his boorish friends pawed me or fucked me. In so many ways it was just another thankless job with abysmal hours and no me time. His pool was a wonderful respite. My master never permitted a bathing suit in his pool so I was just another nude chick soaking up the sun, only my collar revealing the true nature of my relationship with my Master. I remember one picture my master took. He had four guys line up behind me, had me get them hard and then lie back and smile for the camera. The bizarreness of the situation hit me at that moment and was reflected in my twisted smile. I was delighted one day when I was told that I could send George a Thanksgiving message through The Company. I knew that my note would be censored but just to be able to communicate with my husband was a blessing. It was the first time I had even been allowed to touch a computer keyboard in months. Even the E-readers my Master gave me could not surf the internet. I was glad that I had not been much of a Face book user or I would have had serious withdrawal issues. I thought of George and how lonely his holiday must be. I hoped that he was having a good time despite my absence, I remembered how I had made him promise that we would conceive a child in Italy. I wanted the air of da Vinci in my child's DNA. I imagined Gorge and I, fucking like rabbits on the banks of the Po and nearly broke out in tears. Before I could wallow in sadness however, my Master summoned me. It was time for my bath. Wishing George well, I made my way to my Master's side and followed his lead. I knew that the worst was behind me. I could see the end of the rainbow and it was beautiful. I Know What I Am Doing, Honey Ch. 03 After Thanksgiving my Master took me on my first extended trip. He rented a yacht and we cruised the Caribbean for two months. The company makes some very convincing passports. Some of the stops were really beautiful. One was a elite nude beach. Essentially to had to be a multimillionaire just to access the beach. I could not believe the celebrities I saw sunning themselves in their birthday suits. I can't name any names but a very popular male star is hung like a horse and it was refreshing to discover that some very famous babes have cellulite and cesarean scars. I even saw one or two other women wearing collars. When I wasn't naked, which was a rare event, my Master dressed and undressed me. Probably the most fun was a nightie party in the Virgin Islands. My Master dressed in black silk pajamas and dressed me in the finest and skimpiest black attire. It was a teenage boy's wet dream, black stockings, barely there bra, panties that were essentially invisible and a diaphanous cover over all. My Master found me so attractive he took lots of pictures of me in the outfit. That night he gave me his first gift. "You have been everything The Company advertised, Sweetness. I have really enjoyed getting to know you and you have been outstanding in bed. If I was not such a commitment-phoebe I MIGHT have asked you to stay on. In any event this is for you. It is yours to keep. Please wear it tonight and for the rest of the time that you are with me." He gave me one of his sweetest kisses and presented me with a gift wrapped box. Inside was a platinum ring. It was studded with sapphires and diamonds spelling out the word "Sweetness". My Master had hung that pet name on me about four months into my time with him. It sounded better to my ears than "slave" ever did. I, on the other hand could NEVER refer to him as anything but "Master." Once I slipped up, uttered his first name, and had ended up in the cage. I gazed at the ring, it was gorgeous, I could not imagine the cost. Next to my very much missed wedding ring, it was the piece of jewelry I most treasured. I clasped it around my ankle and then clasped my Master in my arms. After a blow job of appreciation, I posed for more pictures. When we returned home, I had the deepest tan of my life. My master worked hard for the first month. Utilizing all of his business acumen, he soon earned back every dime he had spent on the vacation. I attended to him and kept him happy between his stints at the computer and his tiring shouting into his microphones. It occurred to me around this time that we were a fully functioning couple beyond the simple master slave dynamic. George was still number one in my heart, but now, sometimes when I allowed myself to day dream, my Master occupied center stage. At night he was beginning to occupy my dreams as well. I hated the fact that I did not even have a picture of my husband. I began to fear that I would forget what he looked like, It was a silly fear, still it clung to me. The one image I returned to again and again was of running to and embracing George at the end of my tour of duty. I knew that I had to keep my Master at least an arm's length distant from my soul. The Company literature was full of accounts of slaves who had bonded to their Masters so thoroughly they made a mess of their old lives. Very few of The Company's clients were interested in long term ownership. Even my Master, despite calling me "Sweetness" had already confided that he was looking forward to next year's model. "All I know for certain is that she will be a redhead." He informed me. I knew that I did not want a situation where I was unhappy at home and longed for the touch of my Master. It helped that my Master was not really my type. Despite us achieving a certain compatibility, my Master's personality was far too prickly for my tastes. I loathed his silence as I just loved to talk. When my Master was in a good mood he was almost eerily silent. He would allow me to prattle on and on but I wanted to have a conversation. It was in those moments when I missed George most of all. George and I used to have such wonderful conversations! My Master seemed to have few interests outside of his job. He had an eye for art and liked some sports. He had a fleet of antique and collectible automobiles. One of his kinks expressed itself in the fact that we had sex at least twice in every car he owned. He could rattle off the details of every car he had ever possessed, every house he had ever purchased, and the ins and outs of the derivatives market but getting him to talk about himself was virtually impossible. I did learn that he was originally from Central America and had come to The United States by way of Canada when he was fifteen. He made his first million at twenty one. I never got a handle on how much he was actually worth aside from a staggering amount. He took me to the opera and the ballet but didn't want to talk about them afterwards. I wanted to comment on the sets and the talents of the sopranos or the grace of the dancers. When I talked about those things he remained silent, his eyes focused upon my mouth. I got the distinct impression that the entire time he was listening politely, he was visualizing his cock in my mouth. Still I came to respect him and built up something akin to affection for him. He praised me regularly and tolerated my taste in movies, so long as I sat naked on his lap while we watched in his home theater. He told me that I could keep most of the clothing he had purchased for me. In the bedroom, even though I was ALWAYS subservient, he gave me the impression that he respected me. He knew that I had a life to return to. He asked about George, and told me that he was a very lucky man. "I'm not the marrying type, Sweetness, but if I were you're the type of woman I would pick." were probably the kindest words he told me the entire time. At the end of April I was informed by the company that I could create another message for my husband. I had no idea when it would be sent and that it would be censored. I felt it more than a little unfair that George could not send ME a letter. I wondered how many times he had had sex in my absence. I realized that I must have had sex with my Master several thousand times by now. I was not naive enough to believe that George would remain celibate; but I sincerely hoped he would not get seriously involved with someone. In the back of my mind was the prospect that George would take his money and vanish and I would return to an abandoned house with a huge hole in my heart. I pushed that fear aside. I knew deep down that George was a one woman man and that one woman was me. I hoped that my letter would lift George's spirit. If he missed me half as much as I missed him... I could never focus too long on that subject, my Master kept me hopping and was upset with me if I was ever less than smiling and sunny at all times. Once I had the most piquant dream, I was in my husband's arms letting out every aggravating thing about my captivity, letting the tears the flow, and he was holding me close, stroking my hair and kissing away each teardrop. Sometimes it was down right weird being property. Nothing demonstrated that better than the second week of April when I became a birthday present! My Master's favorite nephew was turning eighteen. He would be coming to my Master's mansion shortly after, on his school's vacation. My Master informed me that I would be the property of his nephew for the week. I was stunned, but was able to keep that emotion from crossing my face. There really was no other response on my part, as I had no say in the matter. My Master led me to a bedroom on the second floor of his mansion I had never entered before. The large room had one corner done up like a school room with a blackboard and a few desks. The rest of it was sumptuously decorated. In the closet were a lot of costumes. Master had me try several on. They were not quite my size, but an eighteen year old boy would probably not notice. "I've had this room ready since he was seventeen. On that birthday we had a long talk about sex. Alberto promised me that he would apply himself to his studies and that I would give him some very nice birthday presents. Sweetness, I'm fairly certain that he is no longer a virgin but he has probably never been with an older, experienced woman. I'll give him a lecture on how to behave himself but if he mistreats you in any way push this panic button. There is another one in the bathroom.' My Master showed me two almost invisible buttons set in recesses in the walls. Before he continued. "As you know, I am not much for costume play, but Alberto confided in me that he has a hard on for some of his teachers and even the mothers of some of his friends. I don't expect award winning acting, just something that will please a horny high school senior. That should be a relatively easy assignment for a woman as beautiful as you. I will miss you very much, Sweetness, while you are with Alberto but one must often sacrifice for relatives." As he said the last sentence my Master kissed me deeply, and gently stroked my body. That led to one of the most spontaneous and enjoyable sessions of lovemaking that we had. For that encounter at least, I was a woman he felt profound affection for. He was never like that before and would never be again, but the oasis of total bliss was beyond wonderful. It was probably my single favorite moment of captivity. A few days later the nephew, Alberto arrived. He was a bit stockier and nerdier than I had envisioned. Before Alberto arrived my Master dressed me in some sexy lingerie. It was half wedding night trousseau and half Arabian nights. My master then had me step into a big cardboard box with a bow on it. I thought it was a corny as hell and had to keep myself from busting out in peals of laughter. I remained silent and waited. At last I heard my Master's voice as he entered the room. Alberto opened his package and his eyes became as big a saucers. "Never let it be said that I don't take care of my favorite nephew! Now Alberto, as with any gift, there are some ground rules. This woman is yours for the week. She will refer to you as 'Master.' She is very eager to please and very talented in bed. You can enjoy her as much as you like in any way that you like, HOWEVER, no violence, no rudeness and nothing less than gentlemanly behavior. This slave will contact me if you behave badly or violently. If that happens I end your time with her. Be a kind and gentle master and I will buy you the car you asked for for graduation. Screw this up Alberto and not only do you NOT get the car, I re-write my will giving most of my money to charities instead of you and your mother." Alberto's eyes never left me as he listened to his uncle's words. My Master made Alberto repeat the rules several times before he made his exit saying, "Very well, I leave yo to your own devices." The kid was a horny little bugger with amazing recuperative powers. He was very tender as he undressed me but after that he was a regular Speedy Gonzalez. It took me several days to tamper down his passions a bit. Once I explained that women usually preferred slow and steady to a rapid fire men, he began to calm down. He was not a virgin but being presented with me excited him as though he were one. He really must have had a thing for a particular teacher. When I was dressed in s very modest, non-revealing dress he called me "Mrs. Leeds" and I could order him around like an obedient puppy. To be honest having all that power was quite a kick. In the rest of the house my Master held sway, at home, George and I were essentially equals. With Alberto I ended up calling almost all the shots. I remembered being almost as horny as he was when I was his age, that made me recall boyfriends and lovers that I almost forgotten. The week passed in a pleasant haze of blow jobs, cunnilingus instruction, a couple of sessions of anal and my pathetic acting. That I would never be even a marginal thespian did not bother my young playmate in the least. When the week ended, he even dressed me back in the first outfit I had worn for him and walked me back to my Master. As soon as the kid was gone my Master began to make up for lost time. Inside me, his cum mixed with his nephew's. That thought gave me serious pause. It was one of the few times when I really wondered what I had gotten myself into. I thought that a weaker woman might have gone mad experiencing the kaleidoscope of emotions and sensations and demands I was subject to. It was at this point that I really began to battle depression. I was essentially working twenty four hours a day, seven days a week with really not even so much as a coffee break . I could not say no unless I was in great pain, and my Master was not into that. I had been offered up to his friends and business associates, given to his nephew and mostly kept in isolation from the world. On top of that George was out there somewhere; I hoped waiting for me, but since I could never really communicate with him, I had to accept on faith that he would want me back. I don't have the faith of a saint, I only had the conviction that George loved me, but my husband was as fallible as any man. I could almost understand if he had decided to move on. It was all I could do to mask my sadness from my Master. He really could not understand my situation. Once, overwhelmed, I broke into tears, seemingly out of the blue. What I need was a hug and soothing words. What I got was a harsh spanking and a night in the cage. By late May, despite the amazing weather in Miami, I was extremely down and sinking fast. My Master perceived that something was different about me but he could never really love a woman and support her emotionally, He was the rooster and he saw every woman as his personal hen. Her duty was to fuck him, to pamper him and, and keep her emotional needs away from his selfish soul. My Master increased his demands upon me as the end of my time of service neared. He actually believed that he could screw the sadness out of me. Our relationship really began to change. I came to resent my Master. I bore down however. I never recoiled from his touch, as much as I would have liked to. I made sure my smile never faded and that I praised him constantly. How I made it to the middle of June is something I barely understand myself. Apparently I have reserves that had been previously untapped. My Master took all the credit for my apparent turn around in spirits. "All you needed was a bit more intensive dicking." he said to me with pride. The truth was that inside I was screaming. I felt like a caged and desperate animal. And then came my final week. The thought of liberation raised my spirits considerably. I was amazed that I had never told my Master to go fuck himself when, one day, he tried to see how many blow jobs I could give him over twelve hours. His attempts to "cure" me had filled me with contempt for him. He will never know, and I can never commit to paper the scenarios I conceived involving him to exact revenge. And then came my 365th day. I managed to put aside all my animus and be authentically nice to my Master. He actually was a good sport. He gave me a suit case and helped me pact the clothing he had purchased for me. We had a quiet dinner. I sat naked in his naked lap and he fed me like I was a little girl. He confided that he would miss me. I lied and told him the same thing. Since I would be returned to George naked as the day I was born back at the arena, my Master gave me a simple, short robe to wear in the car. The windows of the limo we rode in were so deeply tinted that I could not tell where we were. When we reached our destination, he slid a pillow case over my head and escorted me through the vestibule. Between two hooded handlers he removed my hood, kissed me deeply and said, "Thank you for a wonderful year, Sweetness. I sincerely wish you happiness." with that he slid the robe off of my frame and I never saw him again. Suddenly aware of my nudity in a way that I had not considered for the past year, my handlers led me to the same dressing room where my adventure had begun. I recognized some of the same faces from my first day. Some were sobbing deeply, others were all smiles. All of us were on edge as none of us knew for certain if someone would be waiting to take us home. All of us were stark naked except for our collars. In reverse order of how we had entered slavery we would be led from the room to the stage, where our collars would be removed. If someone was waiting for us we would both receive the second half of my purchase price and were were free to go. If we had been abandoned, a councilor from The Company would greet us and help us get on with our lives. More than once those of us in the dressing room heard sobs of grief coming from the stage of the now, mostly empty arena. I kept my fingers crossed. At last my time came. I walked into the harsh, blinding light of the stage and knelt on a satin pillow as two hooded figures unlocked and removed my collar. I could not believe how much lighter I felt at that moment. I stood, turned to exit the stage and spied GEORGE! He had his arms spread wide and had a loving, yet concerned look upon his face. Never had his lips been as succulent, never had his scent been so alluring. After a kiss I collapsed into his arms and wept like a baby. George held me tight as I let it all out. My Master's hardness, my profound loneliness, the abuse and crassness I had endured and all of the good moments as well. To my utter surprise between my sobs, I realized that George was crying just as hard as I was.. George had bought me a really cute new dress with really sexy underwear for the trip home. The first thing I put on however were my engagement and wedding rings. The Company allowed us to take our time and cry ourselves out before a representative came with the second installment of my purchase price. I thought that I would be happy in seeing that second check but I just felt a profound numbness. I knew that I had lost part of myself during my year long sojourn. I had also taken something from George. What we had lost, and whether we can ever put our lives back the way they were are things we still do not know, even all these months later. I have been spending good money on an elite psychiatrist. Being George's "slave" since I returned has been very easy. George's demands are light and readily fulfill-able. He gives me time off when I need it and he could never be a tyrant or a dictator towards me. I am so overjoyed that he waited for me that serving him is a blessing. We converted one of the bedrooms into a nursery. Our trip to Italy is next week. I think often of the Italian landscape, but far too often the clear blue sky's of Miami and my Master's pool intrude upon the vision and I find myself in tears again. I wonder when i will heal and when the hurt will fade. Then I look at George, smile and say to myself, "It is great to be back!" I Know What I Am Doing, Honey He found a flat surface to open his valise and withdrew a short plaid skirt and a midriff bearing white blouse and a simple pair of beach thongs. "Slave, put these on. I can't take you out in public naked. That will change when we reach my house. I expect that it will take you several months to earn yourself a wardrobe. You won't need clothing for a while in any case. Once you are dressed I will take your leash, blindfold you and and lead to my limousine, Unlike some of your fellow slaves you are not facing a long plane ride tonight. I live in Miami Beach, however, for the present, the only view you will have of the city will be my back yard and pool." My hands trembled as I struggled with the zipper on the skirt and the buttons on the blouse. The clothing fit well, just sagging a little from being a wee bit too large. The attendant handed me the box containing my emergency phone as my owner slid a dark pillowcase over my head. I felt my owner tug on my leash. My feet felt like iron filaments adhering to a magnet. I was amazed when my feet actually moved. From the sounds I knew that I was no longer in the conference room. We walked quite a distance, before I heard a car pull to a stop in front of me and my "Master." He guided me into my seat and I heard the door of the limo close behind me. My Master removed the pillowcase in one quick moment. When I could focus again, the first thing I saw was his his face. He wore a serious look upon his face as he laughed and said, "Welcome to your new life, slave." The Limousine sped off into the night and I began to wonder if I had made the biggest mistake of my life.