0 comments/ 17298 views/ 2 favorites Change of Life By: jagaj Someone once told me, "the first year of marriage a couple's desire for each other is so strong they wish they could just eat each other up, and the next four you wish you had". I'm not sure that was exactly how our marriage went, but after twenty-one year, let's just say out relationship had cooled down considerably. Our bodies change from the slim lines of youth to the broaden forms of middle age, and our sex life decreased to nearly nonexistent. I turned more and more to fantasy and porn to meet the needs of my body. At times the heat and ideas that found a place in my mind were acted out in bed. My focus turned from her breast and cunt, to her now large shapely ass. From loving caresses and foreplay to nonconsensual fucking. Bondage forced deep throat, and sodomy she received the worst I could imagine. If it fueled my passion, I sought the opportunity to try it out on her. Nine months before our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary she told me that if our marriage was going to continue my actions would have to change with no more porn, no bondage and especially no more ass fucking. I had never meant to hurt her, the abuse had just developed over time. After her ultimatum I did a lot of soul searching and discovered that my love for her was more than my sexual perversion. We rededicated our selves to courtship and renewal of our relationship. We returned to dating, and sending flowers and cards. The more time we spent talking, the less we spent arguing. Once again laughter and joy returned to our time together, our son said we looked like a couple of teenagers. As laughter increased an amazing thing happened, the spark, or fire are what ever you want to call it returned. Long intimate hours of making love filled our lives again, but deep inside me, perversion still burned. We planned a week long get away to Miami Florida, followed by a four night cruse to celebrate our new relationship, and the date was set to coincide with our twenty-fifty anniversary. Our flight arrived a little late. We caught a taxi to the hotel where we dropped out bags and changed to make a reservation in a local restaurant we had attended on our wedding night many years prior. Vanessa was dressed in a small black dress, which despite her added weight did wonders for her figure. Her make up done in a hurry was beautiful to behold, and the shiny black high heals made her ass giggle and twist like it had not in years. My eyes and hands would not stay off her and we necked and petted in the back of the taxi like two youngsters. As the taxi stopped we ducked our heads and ran hand in hand through the doors into the building. It was only after we had taken a seat that our eyes adjusted to the darkness that we realized that the nice restaurant we had visited before had changed. At tables and secluded booths around the room men, women set in groups of twos, threes or more. The groups were laughing, crying and calling out as they watched the action being staged in the center of the room. What had been a dance floor, now was inhabited by a device that looked like a roman cross, with straps and buckles arranged all over it for holding someone captive. On each side was set tables with a variety of instruments, from whips to giant penis shaped diodes. As we watched a tall young looking man in an expensive business suit led a blindfolded girl dressed in a robe to the device, by a leash attached to her neck collar. Bringing her to a stop next to the device the man turned and spoke in low tones to the girl who with trembling hands untied the string around her neck that held the robe closed. A low gasp of lust and awe was heard from every throat as the robe slid off her shoulders and down over her body leaving her nude trembling body totally exposed for all to see and lust after. The girl just stood there trembling. As the crowd hooted the man dropped the end of the leash to the floor, and walked slowly over to one of the tables and began picking up one instrument after the other examined it, then replaced it. After picking up several and laying them aside, his hand closed on what looked like a riding crop about eighteen inches long, with the handle about one inch in diameter. His practice swings through the air made a kind of whistling sound. Approaching the girl he took a couple more practice swings closer and closer to her nude and trembling body. Small trembling cries escaped her lips as she stood waiting. The whip drew closer and closer to her body. Then lightly, starting on the side of her face he ran the cold leather down her body. Over and over again the leather handle caressed her face, neck, nipples and legs. She just stood there frozen. Then reversing the handle and gripping it with eight inches of the handle exposed he leaned close wrapped his left arm around her neck and shoulder and kissed her lightly on the lips. As their lips meet, with one savage thrust the rounded end was shoved cruelly up between her legs, crushing and tearing her pussy open eight inches of cold dry leather rammed in until his hand stop it from going any deeper. The Girls screamed out rising up as high on her tiptoes as her legs would allow and then doubled over in pain and humiliation the breath knocked out of her body. She only remained on her feet from the support of the man's arm around her shoulder. The crowd roared and cheered the man as a second, third and forth he pulled out and rammed the whip handle home. As he pulled it out and took aim for a fifth jab, her hands feeble moved to protect her sex. The man jerked her over to the cross and motioned for two big men who were stationed near by to come and assist. She was quickly shackled to the cross. While Vanessa and I had sat watching the event in shock amazement till this point, Vanessa grabbed for my hand and said, "Let's get out of here!" Jumping to our feet we made for the door past tables where angry and surprised eyes starred at us, and more than a few hands reached out to grab and grope as we rushed by. As we approached the door one of the large men who had helped shackle the girl to the cross suddenly appeared in the exit door. "Leaving so soon? He asks me. The boss does not like it when someone cause a distraction form his show." Vanessa screamed, "Get out of my way, we're leaving." A handgun appeared out of nowhere to be pressed into her mouth. "You're not much of a Master to let your slave get out of control like that." Stammering and sputtering, unsure of what to do. Afraid that he would pull the trigger at any minute. I said, "I'm not her master, she's not a slave." A grin that could only be described as evil slowly slid across his face, "Every one here is either a master or a slave, by your own words let it be unto you." His eyes looked Vanessa up and down, he turned back to me and said, "She was born to be enslaved, and if you're not her master, then so were you." Pushing the pistol deeper in Vanessa' throat he back us into the center of the floor. Vanessa gagged on the feel and taste of steal that was in her mouth, but was unable to do anything for fear of dying. Tears ran down her cheeks doted the front of her little black dress as we were marched at gunpoint to center stage. The man with the whip stood, quietly whip in hand as we approached. Looking Vanessa and I squarely in the eyes he spoke, "Perhaps you did not know what you were getting into when you walked into this place, or maybe you did and just want to share in the fun. Either way is fine with me, but in your own time you will pay for disturbing the entertainment I was performing for my friends and customers. Bring them a couple of chairs here where they can get a close view of my fun, and let them begin to learn what it means to be a master or slave." Two chairs with arms were quickly produced and we were forced to sit within five feet of the show. Turning to the Girl shackled to the cross the man asks, "Slave what is you purpose?" The bound girl replied with a whimper, "To please you Master." What is my purpose Slave? To take pleasure, replied the girl. "And how am I your master allowed to please myself, slave?" A visible tremble ran the length of the girl's body, "Any way you choose, Master." With a grin the man turned and looked first at me then at Vanessa, and said, "That was a correct answer. Because she has answered correctly I will now fulfill both of our purposes for your instruction and because you dared to disturb us just when things were getting good, you invoke my anger, and my pleasure will be wonderful indeed." Turning to the girl on the cross the man flicked the whip and with a pop the tassel struck the girls left nipple. An exhalation of breath was all that revealed the girl's pain. Like a dancer the man moved supple as a cat forward and back, side to side and with each move the tip of the whip touched another delicate point of skin. As the girl trembled and jerked, very small whimpers escaped her lips. Suddenly I caught myself wiggling in my seat, because my cock had become amazingly aroused at the display of this girl's helplessness and torture. I looked over at Vanessa in time to see her, with tears flowing down her chin cry out, "Stop, please." With arm drawn back for another blow, the cruel man paused and responded, "You don't like me hitting her with this riding croup?" Vanessa in sobs, cried, "No, please don't hit her with that anymore." The man faced the audience; "She doesn't want me to strike her with this croup anymore." The audience laughed uproariously. From the back a voice yelled out, "do as she says." With a shrug of his shoulders the man walked back over to the table and laid down the croup and picked up a cat of nine tails. As you wish my lady, he replied to Vanessa. The bound girl was inverted on the cross, her head now down and her feet up in the air. The man raised the cat high over his head and brought it down savagely between her legs onto the open flower of her cunt. For minutes he lashed her across her pussy, breast and even the bottom of her feet. Exhausted she hung suspended upside-down her head waist high. Tears ran out of her eyes and puddle on the floor, but she never said a word. Winded the man with the whip turned to Vanessa and with a bow, "Is this more to your liking, My lady?" he smirked. The audience responded with loud clapping and catcalls. Vanessa set in stunned silence, unable to speak or move. Glancing my way he noticed the budge in my pants, and with a smirk said, The slave on the wheel got what she wanted she has pleased me very well and will be rewarded later. Your wife has received what she wanted she has aided another slave in pleasing her master by suggesting that she receive a greater more full use, but you reveal that you have other desires and require another lesson in slave submission. Walking slowly over to the table he reached down and picked up an object that looked sort of like a Billy club but it had a red button on the handle and two metal studs sticking out of the other end. With a movement of his hands he motioned and the two big men grabbed both my arms and twisted them behind me, and dragged me to the girl on the wheel. My hands were handcuffed to the girl's ankles, and I stood staring into her wet, red inflamed cunt. Reaching down the man with the club looking stick rubbed my crotch with his right hand and then unzipped my fly. My cock, which had swelled from the display, broke through to stand proudly in front of me and rubbed against the girl's face. I tried to back away as far as my bound hands would let me. So the use of a slave turns you on does it? Walking around to the back of the cross he questioned, "Would you say that the use of this slave had almost electrical properties?" Well maybe I can help you understand a little more of the pleasure that a master can receive from a properly schooled submissive. Hands came around from the rear and unfastened my belt buckle, and my pants were unsnapped. My pants were pulled roughly down to my ankles. I was then pushed forward until my crotch was against the inverted face of the bound slave. "Slave service this male," the Mater ordered. Without delay the bound slave opened her mouth and began trying to capture my hardened cock in her mouth. I tried to back away. One of the men behind me walked over to the table and picked up a black penis shape dildo that looked to be fifteen inches long and two inches in diameter. Holding it up in the air he twisted the bottom and the thing began to vibrate with a purr. Returning behind me he shoved the vibrator into the crack of my butt against my ass hole. In terror I pushed my hips forward driving my hard pole up the bound slaves throat. The crowd roared their approval. I was caught between the desire to fuck this slave's throat for all I was worth or withdraw and spare her and get my ass torn up by thevibrator behind me. With the option of pleasure in her mouth or pain in my ass my cock disappeared totally into her mouth and up her throat. Saliva ran out of her throat and down over my balls and dripped to the floor as she sucked and sucked as though her life depended on it, and perhaps it did. I could tell she could not breathe and tried to withdraw a little. "No you don't came a voice from behind me. You never show mercy to a slave. Fuck her you worthless piece of shit. The vibrator that had been pushing against my butt started to plow its way into my ass. A pain like white-hot fire began in my ass and spread through my entire body. The Vibrator passed the entrance ring and continued deep up into my bowels. My response was to try to free myself by moving forward which jammed my dick even deeper into her throat. Now that's how you use a slave the man with the whip laughed out loud. Who ever was behind me laughed and began a steady pattern of moving the giant black vibrator in and out of my ass. Each time he withdrew I withdrew my cock from her throat, and then as the vibrator was forced back in me I once again in an attempt to avoid the pain cram my cock to my balls into her mouth and throat. Slave is that the best you can do for this male? Your not trying the man replied. He then raised the Billy club looking device and place the metal studs against her clit and mashed the button. Her body spasmed as electrical voltage was produced from the shock stick. The spasm traveled down her body and caused her throat to constrict. The intense feeling of her throat spasms combined with the electrical current conducted through her saliva produced a mixture of pain and pleasure I would never have believed possible. The first shock lasted only a moment, but the master increased the voltage and length of the shock until the two of us hung together jerking and twisting connected only by my cock buried deep in her mouth. I lost count of time. I lost control of my body. I was living somewhere between the euphoria when pain and pleasure become one. Even my ass no longer rejected the giant intruder that attacked it there. Master spoke to the girl again, "Is that the best you can do slut." and slid the end of the shocking stick inside her pussy and held down the button. Her body began to vibrate like the black vibrator in my ass. My muscles contracted and I pushed my cock so deep in her mouth that my legs sealed off her face on both sides. My balls blocked her nostrils. Above the sound of the crowd cheering I could hear her gurgling deep in her throat. Then like a train coming through a tunnel I felt my sperm begin its journey from my balls through my cock and into her spasming throat. It felt like gallons, I know she would have drowned if she had not been hanging up side down. As quick as I shot my load, the spunk would run back down. Some ran out of her mouth and some even came out her nostrils running down both cheeks and into her eyes and hair. Some where in the most powerful orgasm of my life I passed out. As I came out of my faint I found myself back cuffed to the chair. The slave girl had been taken down and lay on one of the tables. The master was talking to Vanessa. So now you have seen your first lesson as a slave. You have been responsible for another slave's pleasure and pain. You have seen the pleasure that your man can receive from a slave under the control of a strong master. Now bitch its your turn to serve. Vanessa was taken from the chair and dragged in front of me where she was ordered to clean me up. Her face was pressed between my legs and she was forced to lick and suck all the combined sperm and saliva off of me. To my over stimulated dick her soft tongue and warm mouth was unbearable, and I was sent into a dry orgasm. Spasm after spasm ran over my body as it tried to pump sperm that was not there. Then wrapping his fingers into her hair Vanessa was dragged over to the still body of the slave girl. As Vanessa tongue searched the crevices of her face, eyes and depth of the slave girls mouth for the last drops of my sperm, I though I saw a change in Vanessa' body language. From a nonconsensual participant her kisses moved from the girl's mouth down her tired body over each nipple to lick and suck between the tired slave's out stretched legs. The slave girls response was quicker and her hand slid up under Vanessa's black dress to begin fingering Vanessa' pussy inside her panties. Then both girls' bodies twisted and jerked in the embrace of a mutual organism. The crowd cheered, as the master gently rubbed Vanessa' head and told her well-done slave. The look in Vanessa' eyes as she looked up at him was something to behold, a look of satisfaction and submission. Then without being told Vanessa crawled over to the base of the cross and licked up the puddle of sperm that had dripped out of the slave's mouth onto the floor. This was how we were introduced to the world of Masters and Slaves. The master turned and looked at the two of us. Perhaps you came here on purpose, or maybe by chance. Or could it be fate? I now give you a chance to make a choice. Will you leave here and never return, or submit to me? That was the beginning of a new life for both of us. We were then handcuffed, blind folded and taken to the master's home to continue our training, but that is for future stories. Change of Life {WARNING: Very graphic SM sexual detail. Debasement.} The deepest changes in one's life can creep up on you and you're almost completely unaware. Finding one's ruler, is a case in point. I was living in New York City at the time; I was attending a linguistics conference and staying at the Waldorf. She was staying there while visiting a friend—she lived in California. We encountered each other through some strange events over room keys—those cards they use. I was in 603 and she was in 503. She hadn't been paying much attention and arrived at my door, 603, without noticing. And her electronic key worked. I was making coffee when a beautiful blonde with light brown eyes came into my entranceway, and looked around, momentarily confused—the layout was exactly the same as in her room. Then she recovered and made a joke. By the time we'd both talked to management, and had a new key made for me, for my recoded lock, we were captivated with each other. We met at every spare moment I had at the conference. In her room, usually. And we found each other very hot. Besides her allure, she was more than my match in brains, and in every other way. By the time the conference ended, three days later, my heart was hers. "I think I was waiting for you." She replied that she'd dreamed of me the night after our first mixed up encounter. I'd turned out to look like the dream image. The next day, she had to leave for her home in the California. Back at the college in Boston, I pulled every string I could think of, to get time off to visit, and since it was August, I succeeded. She met me at the airport in Los Angeles, and came back to my hotel room. Our sex was as hot as in New York. "Did you miss me?" she said, moving her arms back slightly, drawing the sweater tight over her breasts. "I missed you and them. Let me gobble them up." We kissed for hours and she discovered a game that really turned me on. "Tip your head back and open." I didn't know, but she was smiling. I saw her mouth working to give spit. "Want it?" "Please, Honey." It was cool on my tongue, and my cock jerked up. The momentary disgust faded. She touched my cock, then feeling its hardness, held it tight as she pressed against me. I think that's when she knew for sure about me. And about what she wanted. "Do you love me?" she said. "Yes, honey. I've fallen hard, you know that." "Do you want to be mine?" "Yes, but please say what you mean besides loving you and only you, like crazy." "Well, just now, you were my thing to spit in as I please." She paused. "My spittoon." "I see." The thought thrilled me. "My spit is already in your belly. In fact, you're mine, already, my pet," She smiled. Taking my hand, she placed it on her pussy. It was very wet. As my body reacted, in turn, I said, "Yes, I am. I'm yours. Your spittoon, if you choose." A few hours later, we were in bed fucking. It was taking some time for me to come—I guess I still had some fears—so we talked. "I want us to be together, always, my love," I said. There was a slight smile, and she was thoughtful for a few moments. "I'm in love, sweetie. And I want my way, with you. I felt it when you swallowed. My way. My way only." With her hand, she took my cock. "If you mean it, say that you're mine, my way, always." The words were momentous, stunning. I could not think. I could only blurt, after a couple seconds, "Yours forever, my love. Your way." She hugged me and laughed, a little relieved. "I was going to wait ten seconds, then say, 'We need more time.' You're lucky!" Soon after, she came to join me in Boston, soon after I'd begun teaching my classes. We freshly fell in love walking along the Charles River. She had the wonderful habit of throwing herself into my arms, placing her arms around my neck, and hanging there; like a kid. All lovers, particularly the knights of old, have spoken of their slavery. And I think it was more than a metaphor. Here it was way more. My desires ran rampant, and entrenched my utter subjection. She'd have me kneel before her. The first time was like a joke, but she said, "Beg for a glimpse of my pussy." I'd seen it many times, and this turn of events was new. My face must have shown the thoughts. "You've seen it before, because I wanted to, pet. Understand?" "Yes, honey." "That isn't changing, sweetie. If I want to, I'll show it to you. You never lacked for my pussy, did you?" "No, Honey." "You've been happy with 'when I please.' And you will be. Just acknowledge my choice. Beg for a glimpse." "Please honey, let me see." She looked at me, steadily. "Say it again." "Please let me see." I surrendered in my eyes. "Of course, dear." She exposed the whole of it, and watched my face. I was pure desire. The cunt almost seemed to have a personality. One that was inscrutable. The lips appeared to tightly together; it was an illusion of course, but naturally they shielded the mystery, beyond. I shivered under its power. "Come close and kiss me right there." I saw the soft nest of her pussy, its narrow slit looked moist. My cock hardened. My face went towards and my tongue sought the cleft. Parting the lips—I knew I had permission, I tasted her and felt her gentle hands on my head. I was smelling her, and her slick wetness was on my tongue. My heart melted. I continued, and when she responded, I would have brought her off, but she said, "Come inside me, Baby." Her ascendancy and my surrender intensified, as did our love. I remember when each new element of us took shape. We were fucking; it was happening lately that I was taking longer to come—I attributed it to stress—and she often became impatient, even if she had not come. This time, she'd gotten very hot, but I was taking some time. I saw a decision on her face. "Love, pull out of me, and jerk off." I did. And I was a little ashamed, as I took my cock in hand. "I want you to come onto the floor." I spurted immediately. The shame had intensified, but I was super hot. She saw it. "Come for a hug, hottie," she said, quite pleased. Her arms enveloped me. "Your cum goes where I please!" "Yes, it does." "Your cock is mine. Say it." "Yes! My cock is yours." I pressed close. Again, she placed my hand on her pussy; my fingers reveled in the dampness. It was mine, though in a different sense. My Mecca. I suppose a lover will commonly say, "my cock/cunt is yours." But we'd given a special form to the idea. One day, she said to me, while I was in her arms, "You've been so good, doing whatever I say." "Mmmm." "It's time to put a word and a promise to it... If you want, my love." "Yes, honey." I thought of the knights serving their ladies. "Is it serve?" She laughed. "Well, that's close, but I was thinking Obey, Utterly. Totally." "Yes, I see." My heart raced. I didn't know what to make of it. The only thought, besides being hers, was of the old church wedding vows, when the bride—not the groom—would promise to 'love, honor, and obey.' It was already clear she had a little more than that, in mind, but the similarity was disconcerting. "Do you want that, love? You are loved and mine regardless, but I'm offering this. I will rule you, if you want. Think about it." It was odd that she was offering that I obey, but my whole body became electric. I was aroused. I thought it over for no more than five seconds. "I want it. Let me be your obedient subject, as well as your lover." "Promise? Utter surrender?" "I promise. I want it. Yes." "Great! I accept you. When appropriate, you may refer to me as Isis. Think of me as the goddess who rules. Now go and cook dinner." She was joking, partly, for my slavery was more of the soul. I had never been saddled with all the housework. I started to feel very safe with her, and opened up about all kinds of things, among them extreme humiliation. She seemed somewhat concerned and wondered where it came from. I wasn't sure, but told of some incidents in the remote past. "Hmm... there's more to it, but I don't object to that sort of thing—provided..." She trailed off and looked at me. "Yes?" "Provided, that from now on, only I do it!" "Ahhh. Thanks, honey. I wish I understood myself." "When I order it, then, you'll be humiliated." "Fine!" "There will be no limit to it—but I choose when and if. I think that will sometimes be fun." My body shivered. "Why fun, my love?" I blushed. "I once humiliated a date, and I enjoyed the hell out of it. I see more possibilities, since you have to obey. And I like to see you like this, molten," she said, taking my hard cock in her hand. Then she ground her whole body against me. Bringing her pussy to bear against my cock, she erupted. I knew I was not to move. I held her tight as her body spasmed, then relaxed. My leaning was now under her loving control. A couple days later, I'd made some dismissive remark about a book she was reading. She was in the bathroom, seated on the toilet; I heard the sound of fluid, hitting the water. "Come here," she said. Standing, she wiped her pussy, and tossed the paper into the toilet. The water was a yellow abyss. "Kneel and lick the rim of the toilet bowl." I knelt, but hesitated. "Yes." "Now lean over and get busy." I smelled her waste. There were a few drops on the rim. I licked the cold porcelain. My cock was up. I wondered where I was going; how low. "Thank me." "Thank you, Isis." "You may apologize, now," she said. My heart was pounding I thought of myself in a tweed coat, delivering a lecture, to respectful students. And I'd just licked her toilet. I realized I was entirely hers and began to have a sense of the "no limits" she'd spoken of. "I'm sorry." "That's better. A further lesson is not necessary." I shivered as I thought of the smell. My cock was up, apparently unnoticed. My heart melted. My willingness to lick, shamed me. Yet her love could even contain my ignominy. "Brush your teeth and gargle. Then come and kiss your Isis." She held me tightly in her arms afterwards. I was trembling at first, but gradually, in direct contact with her love, so to say, I became relieved. That was the sequence. So it always was. She had a fine imagination, and every couple weeks would make me squirm; and love me after. At first, I tried to understand her, what made her tick. She loved me, yes, but had this odd kink of wanting to see me squirm. I attempted to tease her, at one point. We'd been three quarters of the way to a fuck, when she told me, "Jerk, my perverted pet." "Yes, Isis, my love. You have odd leanings, yourself." I was near. She smiled and said, "There's nothing odd about me, pet. Who is it that is jerking off, hard as a rock, instead of fucking?" I saw the point, blushed, came. In between these times, she showed her love, directly, as ever. Kissing, pressing, and so on. But one thing particularly concerned her. It wasn't so much the acts, as where I was reading about them, e.g., in the Marquis de Sade. I had continued fantasies about cold bitches, whores. It showed in my fascination with Sade and in the porn I sometimes used... with her permission. I confessed some incidents in my past. A time I'd hired a pro who quite coolly whipped me and had me jerk off. "I don't understand this cold bitch thing, sweetie. What does it get you?" "It's sometimes a turn on." "It's a man's thing, I think." "It's hot." "Well, the fantasy is." "In person, too, precious. Remember the incident I told you." "You are very silly. It was in person, but you got off because of your fantasy about her and her acting it out. You thought she cared in some way. And in any case, you were in control." That hit me. The politeness. The apparent gentleness in the harsh measures; she'd wanted her money. "It wasn't real, I guess." "Now you're getting it." After that, her measures were often especially harsh, and I thought it was just her business-like approach to kink. For, as always, she'd welcome me into her arms, after. And, without saying too much and making it a chat, she had me talk of the effects. I confessed to desolation, at times, and felt unhinged. If there are no boundaries, does a person exist? She would say, "You're absolutely mine; you exist, and you're not going anywhere" and the distress would ebb. One day as I was about to leave, for shopping, and I was holding a list. She said, "Pick up a cantaloupe. It's in season." I did, and when I was unpacking the groceries, I showed it to her. "It's a nice one." "You'll be fucking it, tomorrow." I was stunned. She wanted to know if I'd give up my dignity. The next day, she said, "Pet, go find the cantaloupe, and make a nice smooth hole in it." I did, and brought it. "Do you like the hole, pet?" I thought of what I was about to do. Everything fell away inside me as I said, "Yes." "Get your cock up, and fuck it." I took out my cock, and it was already hard, from the shame. "I mean, I know you love me and all, and wouldn't fuck anyone else on the sly, but see, you're quite turned on! By a melon!" I blushed. "Yes." "Give her a name, pet, and tell her what you want." "Cathy, I want to shove into you." "She says 'fine,' Stroke to full erection, then do it." I gave my cock only a few strokes, then I held the melon, shoved in, and felt it cold and slippery around my cock. "Give her a few thrusts, baby. Tell her how you like it." I did. "Cathy, you're so smooth and I'm so hot!" I was close, instantly. "You want to shoot, pet. Tell her. Tell her how she feels" "Cathy, I want to come inside. You're slick and squishy; warm, now." She says, Do it. And in a few more strokes, I shot off, into her, totally ashamed. "You came quickly, pet. I know about you and holes." "Excuse me, Isis?" Sudden fear. "In a cool vegetable hole, you shot in a couple minutes. In my cunt, you seem to take forever. You'll find out what a woman thinks about your preference, somewhere up the road." "I can imagine." "Hot pussy is somehow not the be all and end all, is it?" I could not speak. "My juices don't have the same effect as cantaloupe juices." I was dying inside. She knew. I was focused on myself and didn't give much thought to her feelings. "Well, my hole will be off bounds for you, for some time" she said matter-of-factly, "and that will help you learn what is superior to you." "Yes, Isis." "My cunt is great to jerk off, and in the past, it's given many a good fuck." "I know." She said these words quite dispassionately. I didn't see any anger. I was re-assured she wanted me, though I despised myself. ----- Her interventions took on a rather brutal quality. She'd talk of my 'useless cock,' and how its spew deserved being in the toilet, where she often directed me to put it. I was told I was a self absorbed wanker, and I figured she was really into her role. "You don't see beyond the head of your dick." I wondered if there was animosity, though I didn't doubt her love. Always, she was tender, after. Once I spoke of my utter discouragement at hearing 'useless.' She took my face into her hands. "Pet, your cock is not of use, in fucking me. In my life, others have almost always stood up, nicely. I love you, however, and I own you. So you should know you're of great use!" "And my spewing on the floor, Isis, isn't that useless?" "It not for you to say, pet. But I'll say I love when you do as told; when you're in distress and not a shred of your pride is left, I get wet." She showed her loving and passionate side just as often. She'd press against me: "You've got me hot, pet"--grinding against my cock. I was happy to be thrusting it against her, though I knew I wouldn't be entering. After a bit, and we were both hot, I'd usually hear, "Thrust, and come on my belly, pet." Or something similar. Once she had me fuck her crease and come just beside her hole. She looked down. My come was dripping an inch from her hole. "Just the place for it, Sweety. So near and yet so far." My pride burned, but I said, "Thank you, Isis." She said, smiling, "You were very near my hole, and you didn't even try to get in. So who is it with the odd leanings?" I blushed. "Me." With these events, it was pretty clear what she did, afterwards, on her own. I didn't know what to make of these leanings of mine. Besides the cold bitch, I'd get off with some weird fantasies I wasn't telling her. She used the porn for humiliation: One time she asked me to find a picture of a sleazy ho, opening her cunt. "You like open cunts, don't you? Find one and jerk off." "Yes, Isis." I showed a picture. "Is this ok?" Her glance was brief. "Ewww." Then she smiled: "Your taste, sweetie," she explained. Jerk. Talk." I stared at it. "Her hot cunt is welcoming me." I was jerking and I was very hard. "You imagine she's offering herself to you, for your cock." "Yes." "You're deluded! She's not hot, and she'd only offer herself if you paid her a handsome sum. Not for the joy of your limp cock." "Yes." Somehow that aroused me. "You can't handle a cunt that's hot for you!" I did my best to take in what she had said, but that kind of scene, ho presenting, continued to arouse me. Isis knew it. I began to prefer the colder pictures, where cunt was exposed, and I imagined the model saying, "You aren't getting any. Stroke off." There were also some things I imagined these hoes doing that I did not share. I guess she saw what kind of world was taking shape in my head. A sexual refuge, so to say. I attributed any harshness to her ability to be cool. After a few weeks of this, she said, "You have fantasies of obeying cold bitches and terrible things they do; they get you off. So I'm giving you a holiday with one. You'll pay, of course, but I'll set it up. So she'll be cold, unconcerned with pleasing you. "Thank you, Isis." My cock was stirring. "The degradation is your preference and choice, so, pet, she has a free hand. You're hers for that time. And I'll try to arrange a little surprise for you." "Thank you." "And pet, your coming is fine; whatever she permits or doesn't. Follow her orders to a T. Your nature." "Thank you, Isis. "Write to me all that happens, after you're back. So go and do as I say." "Yes, Isis." That's how the assignment came about. I went. Came back. Saw my love's reaction, of which I will give an account, later, then took to writing it all down. == My love. I'm obeying you. I'm yours only; here is what happened with your assignment. You instructed me as follows: "You are her property, entirely under her orders. Her name is Tanya. I've heard reports about her, but never met her. " I called Mistress Tanya, and made an appointment with her. When I arrived at her door, she answered; a statuesque blonde who looked like strictly business. But she had a bright smile that was kind of disarming. "I'm Mistress Tanya; that's what you will call me. If you walk in, you are accepting that you're my slave. You have this one time, now, for a few minutes, to speak on your own, as a person, and converse with me." I went in. I told her about you, Isis; but acknowledged her to be fully in charge. "Be aware that the one you call your Isis has left everything to me, and without going into detail, I will degrade you. I have no respect for wankers and you will get a sense of my feelings; your Mistress requested openness." I shivered and my cock stirred. "If you now pay your tribute and come with me, you are consenting to whatever degradation I wish." I handed her $300 for the holiday—a couple hours in an afternoon. My cock would serve a cold empress. "Follow me to the basement." I went down some old stairs, but when the door was opened I saw a fully equipped dungeon: horses, pillories, hooks on floors and ceiling. Cross-like frames. It was like in the stories. There was a low chair secured to the floor, and on it a steel tray, like waiters use. Near it, a table with several items, including a couple small bottles whose labels I couldn't make out. Change of Life When he arrived home from work he could always excepted to find three things to his satisfaction; first that his home would be clean and tidy, second that his dinner would be almost ready, and third that his wife would be in the bedroom ready to pleasure him before dinner. His lovely wife had always had things just so for him, he did not need to ask her nor did he need threaten her, she was simply a woman who liked to please her husband. She never raised her voice in augment with him nor expressed any views that contradicted his. She was perfect and as boring as hell. He would arrive home and find every thing just so; he would go upstairs and fuck the little woman, who would show no emotion about it, who would then head down stairs to finish getting dinner ready while he took a shower as if nothing had happened. They would then eat dinner together at the table and then watch some television together before she would head off to bed and to sleep. He had spent many hours down stairs alone, contemplating his life and how sick of it he was, and just what he was going to do to change it. But everything changed when he walked into the house one afternoon the place look like a bomb had hit it. The lounge room had been torn apart as if someone had been looking for something, the couch was ripped apart. The television was on blaring at its top volume and not quiet on station and there was a small amount of blood on the floor. He walked over to the television and turned it off, he shown no emotion that his house had been torn apart, he moved on into the dinning room and found all the shelves had been gone through and the glassware broken, again there was a small amount of blood by the door, he stepped over it and headed up stairs. He moved along the hall and checked the study to find that it too had been torn apart and the drawers all opened. The drawer the he kept locked lay broken on the floor besides his chair. The safe was open and everything inside was gone. He then headed up stairs and checked each room to seeing the same damage and destruction in each room. He paused for a moment before opening the master bed room door. When he opened it he should have been both shocked and angered by what he saw. On the floor in the middle of the room was the beaten and broken body of his wife, it looked like she had tried to fight off who ever had invade his home and had come out the worse for it. He grabbed the phone and called 911 and asked for and ambulance, it arrived at the same time as the police. His home had been robbed and his wife badly beaten. It took only days for her to recover from the physical beating she had taken, but the doctors had warned him that she may not recover from the emotional scars for a long time. She spoke very little to him and refused to meet his eye, the only thing that she had said was that she would not go back to that house. He sold it while she was in hospital and bought a small property just out side of of a small town miles from the city. He had all the security money could buy installed and had repainted and decorated the house to please him self, installing a few extra devices he had always wanted. It was quiet out here and no one around for miles; it was just the sort of place they needed to make a change in their lives. When the doctors finally agreed he could take her home they warned him that she may not be herself and would need a lot of tender loving care. The also warned him that she may have had a serious character change and that she may not be any thing like her former self, and that he should be ready in advance. He knew that she had very little or no memory of that night and that she would not talk about. Jane had also shown very little wiliness to talk about any thing from their life before that night as well. The doctors warned that the type of blow she had received to the head had blocked out a lot of her long and short term memories, and had clearly had an effect on her personality, her in habitations and self preservation. As the nurses had written up in her chart on several different occasion of having to redress her and bring her back to her room. It gave him hope for their future. He picked her up early on the assigned morning, checked her out of hospital and helped her put her things in the boot of the car. He opened her door and slapped her hard on the ass as she started to get in, she stopped and turn to him and looked him in the eyes for a brief moment. But it was enough for him to see a glimpse of something stirring within her, something that had not been their before. He walked around to the other side of the car and slide in behind the steering wheel. He decide to test these new stirring within his plain Jane wife, as he drove out of the city he took her hand and placed it inside his pants on his cock, he put his hand on top of hers not allowing her to pull away, he guided her hand in a slow steady rhythm up and down his cock. As his cock grew harder he explained to her how their new life was going to be and that it would be best if she learn quickly, as he had spent enough years living with a non responsive cock tease. When his cock had reach its full length he smiled at her and said it was time for lesson one. He pulled the car off the side of the road and grabbed her by the back of the head and pushed her mouth down on his rock hard cock. At first she resisted him and he pulled her up by the hair and looked at her, she stared hard at him with an emotion he had not seen on her pretty face before, was that anger. He laughed at her and told her that she would suck his cock nicely or he would have to punish her for her disobedience. Fear flicked across her face and he smiled forcing her down roughly, she opened her mouth and took the tip of him in and started to suck on him, going up and down his hard cock like her life depended on it. He reached between her legs and roughly pushed her pants aside and stuck his finger up inside her nice tight cunt, she was already wet. She moaned as she sucked him, new feeling seem to be blossoming inside her, he started to push his finger in and out of her, matching the pace of her sweet mouth sucking his cock. As he felt the tightening in his balls and indication he was about to cum he push her head down hard on his cock forcing it to go deep within her throat, the spasm of her gag reflex took him over the edge and he dumped his load of hot sticky cum deep in her throat. 'Sallow it all baby I don't want it on the car seats', he told her. She sallow nearly all of his cum and lick up whatever she had missed, she felt no shame at this and was only worried about the pulsating in her pussy that needed attention. As she reached down to play with her self, he pulled her legs apart wide so that he could see what she was doing. He had never seen her play with her own clit before, and it was making him hard again. He reached over her and took a brown paper bag out of the glove box and took out a new vibrating egg. Before Jane could see what it was it rammed it up inside her leaving only the wiring to remote that he was holding, on the outside. He turned the volume of it on low. 'Jane that is going to stay inside you until I say you can take it out' he told her. Jane looked up at him and let out a small moan. He left the setting on low knowing that it would not filled her need to cum, but would also not let the state or arousal diminish completely. He watched her squirm in her seat as she tried to produce the desired pleasure from it, and chuckled when she was unable. He left her like that as he drove out of the city and toward their new home and new life. Where he plans to teach his Jane, how to unleash the submissive, sex goddess within.