Cruel wife - She reminds him of his position at home
It's wednesday i just come home from my work. I immediately went to the bedroom where I took off completely naked, except my chastity belt, and immediately I returned to the living room. Every working day, when I'm at home, I spend it completely naked, except weekends when I usually wear women's clothing. It's a rule’s my wife recently introduced. I also have to wear a women's underwear even at work and normally because of my chastity belt I have to piss myself like a little girl sitting. These rules are my everyday thing in the last 4 years. My wife is sitting in an armchair and reading some newspaper.
“Good day” i said when entered the living room.
“Hey honey” she replies. I kissed her feet and sat down next to her. We started some casual conversation like every normal couples do. We talked how was our day at work. Me and my wife Sarah, are together for 9 years. I am 37 , She is 34 . I work as a high school teacher(one of the few places where someone shows respect to me), while Sara works as a lawyer. In our house, I mean her house my wife is the boss , she roles with everything especially with me. She commands with all the financial means, and I do not have access to our money. She makes all the decisions about her, about me ,about us. In fact she owns me . Today was the day that she reminds me where is my position in her house.
"I am Hungry, make toast and be quiet ,im not in the good mood"My wife ordered to me
“Yes Honey “I went to the kitchen and prepare her lunch, for me i maked tepid oatmeal.
I put the plate of fresh fruit and toast before my wife. She looks so beautiful, she is powerful dressed in her business suit. She's reading the paper and does not acknowledge my serving her with a thank you or a nod; she just continues reading the paper. I take my seat on the other side of the table and begin eating my tepid oatmeal.
I take my first bite when she nonchalantly says, "I'm revoking your furniture privileges."
"Why? What did I do? "I ask incredulously.
She drops the paper down slightly and burrows into my soul with her beautiful green eyes just long enough to let me know she was not kidding. She pulls the paper back up and resumes catching up on the latest financial news.
I grab my spoon and my bowl and sit on the tile floor next to my chair. The initial shock of the cold tile is startling on my naked butt. I sit cross legged and take a bite of my oatmeal. I look before me and see my wife's nylon clad legs, so they inspire the way they are framed by her skirt. I see the key that holds my release glistening by her ankle.
"I'm revoking your silverware privileges boy," she states.
I put my spoon on the table without asking why.
I start licking the tepid oatmeal from the bowl. It's hard to describe the internal conflicts occurring as I, the man of the house am sitting on the floor, naked, licking oatmeal from a bowl as my wife sits before me on a chair in her power suit eating fresh fruit and reading the paper. Humiliated, emasculated, aroused, and very much in love.
She snaps her finger and I see her pointing her well manicured finger to the floor just to the side of her right foot. I crawl under the table and place my bowl where her finger was pointing. I feel her pat my head a couple of times before I place my face into the bowl so I can eat. It isn’t long before she crosses her legs and places one of her shoes on the back of my head. I can hear her turning the pages of her paper. I imagine her gracefully holding the edge of her toast as I hear her take a bite of it. I imagine how beautiful she is. I wish so much that I could sit across from her and gaze into her eyes.
“How long has it been since you’ve cum stud?” she asks.
“24 days ma’am.” I reply into the bowl.
“How many days before you’ll have the opportunity for release?”
“Two days ma’am.” I say with dread in my voice.
She turns the page of the paper. She uncrosses her leg. I pull my face out of my bowl for a second. Just as I go to place my face back in the bowl she places the dirty sole of her business pump into my breakfast. I watch her shoe as it moves around for a second, mixing the dirt from the sole of her sexy pump with my sticky oatmeal. She takes her shoe out of my breakfast and places it on the floor for a second before tilting the sole up, the stiletto heel remaining on the ground. She doesn’t have to say anything; I know what is required of me. I have to lie down on my belly and twist my neck up so that I can lick all of the sticky oatmeal of her shoe. The coldness of the tile floor is sapping the energy from my body. My neck and tongue hurt.
“Six more days.” She nonchalantly states.
“Yes ma’am” I meekly reply as I finish licking the sticky oatmeal from her dirty sole.
When she notices that my tongue is no longer pressing into the sole of her shoe she pushes her chair back and stands up. I see the pointed toe of her pump stop right where the cold oatmeal was deposited on the floor. I look up and see the key at her ankle, the key ever so close to me. I could just grab it I think to myself. I could grab it and unlock this infernal device! I could bend my incredibly sexy wife over the damn kitchen table and take her! I could make her scream with passion as I have my way with her!
I crawl over and start licking the floor. My tongue has to dart under the tip of her shoe so I can get it all. I imagine her looking down at me. What in the world could she possibly be thinking about her husband?
She crouches down and grabs me by hair, forcefully turning my head up and to the side so she can look me in the eyes. I stare up at her and I’m quickly reminded how incredibly beautiful she is. I can feel the dried up oatmeal all over my face and in my hair.
“I want you standing in the foray with your nose in the corner at 5 o’clock. Do you understand me mister?” she says with just the slightest smile.
She releases my head and stands back up.
“I think you’ve been trying to reinstate your position as man of the house again.” She says with a giggle.
“Why? Why? You still think you have the right to ask why when I state my demands. Hmm, I think it’s time I remind you how much of a man you really are. Before you go to your corner I want you in your French maid’s uniform. I want you fully made up, and I want you locked in your 5” pumps. Let’s see how confused you are about your position as man of the house then.” She says as she grabs her briefcase and walks out of the house.
I place the last set of locks through the lock rings and press them close. I mince over to the full length mirror and make sure I’m adequately prepared. I stand at attention and see before me a ridiculous excuse for a man. I don’t like the makeup my wife tells me to buy; it makes me look like a slut. I place a finger through the thin collar around my neck, there’s just enough slack so I can get the tip of one finger in. I reach around and finger the lock in the back, damn it’s amazing how owned one feels when a collar is locked around ones neck. I notice how hanging my hands to my sides affects my petticoat. I place my hands in front of me so they rest on my apron and notice how demure that makes me look. I turn around to make sure the seams of my stockings are straight, damn I feel so feminine doing this.
I have 10 minutes before I have to go to the corner. I would really like to sit down before I go to the corner but I’m not allowed to. I know if I sit or kneel on the floor my dress would not be presentable. Why in the world do I allow my wife to tell me I can’t sit in my own chair?
I feel the intense burning in my testicles and I’m quickly reminded why. As my penis tries to grow in its tiny acrylic prison it pulls the ring behind my testicles in a cruel tug of war. I reach down and try to comfort the intense pain to no avail; I need a key to do that. I think of the key wrapped around my wife’s ankle. I remember my wife’s ankle, her calf, wrapped in those silky nylons. Oh FUCK the pain is INTENSE!
Why in the world did I lock these infernal shoes on so early?
All I can do is stand there and wait before I go and stand in the corner. The balls of my feet are already getting sore. My mouth starts getting dry while I think about all the possibilities before me. I make one of the very choices I can; I get myself a glass of water from the bathroom sink. After drinking down the full glass of water I notice the lipstick stain around the rim of the glass. I think about what kind of man I must be as I clean my lipstick off the rim of the glass. I check myself in the mirror and reapply my lipstick. I look at the clock and notice I still have 7 minutes to get into position but I go anyways.
I mince down to corner in the foray and I stand. I place my hands behind my back and I stare into the corner. I can’t believe I am doing this. I hate doing this. I can’t believe my feet are already sore and it’s not even 5 o’clock yet, or is it? I think about the web cam focused on this corner. My wife can watch my debasement from anywhere in the world, she could share it with others and I would never know. Because of that camera I can’t kneel, I can’t lean into the corner, I can’t move my hands. I can only do one thing – stand here.
I really hate standing in the corner. Little boys are told to go stand in the corner, not grown men - emasculating. I’m not physically forced to be there like when she locks me in the cage, it is only her will that holds me here – power. When I first go to the corner I pout; I’m sincerely angry that she made me stand there. I always think I will just walk away, reposes my manhood. At some point
though I know I can’t walk away on my own, that it could only be her command that will release me. At some point I feel like crying, desperate for her permission to leave this insidious corner – total submission.
How much time has passed? My calf muscles feel like they’re on fire. I’m really bored. I think it was a mistake to drink that glass of water. Is she OK? I would really feel like an idiot if she was in the hospital and I just stood in this corner. What time is it? Damn my feet hurt. I’m so fucking turned on and it’s painful. I wish I could reach around and rub myself; it’s been so long since my penis has felt any stimulation. I really hate standing in the corner. Where is she? Why did she tell me 5 o’clock if she’s not going to be here? Should I call her? I wish I could feel the satin panties against my cock. The smooth stockings feel so sexy on my shaved legs. What in the hell is wrong with me? What kind of man would stand here like this? Damn my wife is hot; I want her more than anything else in the world. I can’t believe how turned on I was licking oatmeal off her shoe. OK, I should call, maybe I’ll wait…for how long? I don’t even know when a minute passes.
I had stood in that corner like a punished child for over an hour and half before I heard my wife’s Lexus pull into the driveway. I was so damn excited when the front door opened up, I could hardly contain myself. I was so incredibly overwhelmed. I wanted to yell at her for being late. I wanted to grab her and hold her, kiss her, make mad passionate love to her. I wanted more than anything just to be with her! I can smell the musky scent of her perfume. I am desperate to just turn around and see her. I would even drop to my knees and prostrate myself before her, passionately kiss her shoes! She closed the door and walked upstairs without saying a word, without acknowledging my existence.
“WHAT IN THE HELL! “ I thought to myself, quietly fuming.
No kiss, no swat on the ass, nothing. If I was a coat stand she would have at least hung a coat on me, I would have been overjoyed with that. My heart sunk. I want her more than anything in the world, and she completely ignores me. I am so desperate for her. I can hear her when she walks upstairs. I want to know what she’s doing; she knows exactly what I’m doing. I want to know where she was while I was standing in the corner.
My ears are acutely attuned to any noise she makes, I want so desperately to be with her.
I think she was upstairs for about 10 minutes, the longest 10 minutes of my life. I was so excited when I hear her descend the stairs.
“Merlot.” she states, snapping her finger, as she struts past the foray into the living room. Her business heels sounded so damn sexy, powerful and intimidating, as she casually saunters off. My heels make me sound like a tart as I struggle to mince down the hall on my 5” stilettos. My God my feet hurt!
It seems to takes forever for me to get her merlot and make it to the living room. Every tiny little step I take reminds me of my current position. I stand to the side of her holding the stem of her glass. It would be considerate of her to take the glass and say thank you. She reads her magazine. The balls of my feet are in pain, my calves are on fire, and my back hurts. I am exhausted from walking through the house in these ridiculous heels. I am standing here holding her merlot. She’s insouciant as she turns the page of her magazine. Her beautiful well toned calf, encased in shear black nylon, holds me mesmerized. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have her in my life. She nonchalantly takes the merlot from my hand and takes a sip. I place my hands demurely in front of me, resting them on my frilly apron. My wife takes quick note of the way I look and I notice a very subtle wry smile before she returns her attention to her magazine.
“How does it feel to be the man of the house stud?” she asks calmly, with her attention still on the magazine.
“I don’t know ma’am.” I meekly reply.
“You don’t know?’
She turns the page of her magazine, taking another sip of her wine.
“If you don’t feel like man of the house, what exactly do you feel like then?” still very casual.
“Umm, a sissy I guess ma’am.”
“What?” she asks quietly.
“A sissy ma’am.” I say a bit louder.
“So you no longer have to guess. You know you’re a sissy.”
Her attention was still on the magazine, “Well good. I wouldn’t want you to be confused about who and what you are. Now let’s see if you’re confused about who you belong to.”
“You ma’am.” I state without hesitation.
She held the magazine down and looked up at my face. Even though I was standing before her, looking down at her, she still towered above me.
“Do you know what that makes you?”
“Umm, no ma’am.” I meekly reply.
“My bitch.” she states with a contemptuous smile on her face as she stares into my soul.
I could feel my face turning red. I could feel my desire for her grow.
“My feet are tired. Massage them bitch.”
“Yes ma’am.” I reply as I go to kneel before her.
I can’t believe how much that turned me on. My burning feet find some solace as my weight is finally taken off of them. I gently remove her elegant business pump and begin kneading her beautiful foot. I take her hot sweaty foot and press my chin into the bottom of her toes, bending them back. My senses are overwhelmed as I hold her black stocking foot to my face. I am so aroused, so desperate, so in need. I try desperately to contain my lust for her as I massage her foot, but I feel more like I’m making love with her foot.
She reads her magazine.
When she’s satisfied with what I’ve done to her foot, she re-crosses her legs. The key to my imprisonment is once again before me, so easy to grab, mocking me. I remove her shoe and knead, press, and rub her tender foot. I am insanely desperate. I am not merely massaging her foot, I am making mad passionate love to it. I notice my breathing is heavy as I caress her nylon clad foot, my hand occasionally running across the key. I am truly breathless. My, I mean her, balls are in desperate pain as her swelling manhood tries in vain to expand beyond the unforgiving acrylic tube.
“I’m a bit tense. Get between my legs and relieve my tension bitch.” she says quietly, seductively.
She spreads her legs and pushes herself to the edge of the chair. I can’t resist running my hands ever so gently up the length of her silken legs. My hands tremble with excitement as I release the clips of her garter. I reach up her skirt and gently pull down her black satin panties. She puts her magazine down and sips her wine.
“You may smell them.” She says teasingly.
I place them to my nose and I find myself intoxicated with her musty scent as I inhale. Performing this intimate act gets me very aroused.
“Get busy pantywaist.” She states brusquely.
As I take my place with my face between my wife’s legs she begins to talk to me.
“Why, why you ask. Like I need a reason to do anything to you. I’m going to tell you why, and I don’t care if you like it. Power. I get off on the power I hold over you. It makes me wet telling my husband he’s not allowed on the furniture. Can you imagine having that kind of power over me? No, I don’t imagine you can.”
She grabs my hair and forcefully pulls my head deeper into her.
“I was at the bar drinking with my coworkers and I could almost feel the juices running down my legs whenever I thought about you standing in the corner. You’re damn lucky you went to the corner on time little missy, you were early as a matter of fact. That was precious. Everyone was waiting for me and I wasn’t going to leave my desk until I saw that you were at your appointed position. You don’t even want to know the consequences if you were 1 second late. You get nothing for being early though. What are you going to do to me for being late, for making you stand in the corner for so long in your fuck me pumps while I was out drinking with my friends? You’re going please me, that’s what you’re going to do to me bitch.”
Her breathing was becoming labored. Her juices were flowing.
“I was out enjoying myself while you were standing in the corner dressed like a fucking maid. You didn’t have a clue where I was or who I was with. I knew without a doubt you were standing in the corner suffering for me, thinking only about me. Your feet were hurting because that’s how I wanted you. I was out flirting with men while you were standing in the corner dressed like a fucking maid. How fucking hot is that?”
“mmmm.” she moaned
“I can’t imagine how it must feel to stand for so long in those fuck me pumps, you’ll have to tell me sometime.”
“You licked your cold oatmeal off my dirty shoe. Do you know where I’ve walked in those shoes? How many bathrooms I’ve walked in? I can’t even begin to imagine what I’ve stepped in throughout the time I’ve owned those shoes. Did you think about that while you were licking them? I did. God, I would have never debased myself like that, not for anyone. But you licked your breakfast, along with the shit, off my shoe for me.”
“Oohh. Yes. Right there.”
Her diatribe was slowing down. The sentences were sporadic. Her breathing was labored.
“I gave you 6 more days in chastity just because you asked why.”
“You asked me why you’re not allowed on the furniture. Doesn’t that sound absurd? I’m denying my husband sexual release for six more days because I told him he couldn’t sit on the furniture and he asked why. Doesn’t that turn you on? Why not 1 day, or 3?
“Mmmm, because I said 6 that’s why. So fucking arbitrary. Just a number that popped in my head. Power. And you were so damn close weren’t you and now it’s going to be more than a week before you get a chance to cum. Oh, you poor baby. Mmm, sucks to be you.”
“I wish I could have seen your face when I told you, but you were under my shoe. I bet you would have gotten hard if you could. But you can’t can you? Mmm, ahh, because I won’t let you. Damn, denying you gets me so fucking hot.”
“Oooh, mmmm. Yea. That feels good. Don’t you dare stop!”
Her legs wrap around my head and I’m nearly suffocating as I desperately lap at her womanhood while she grinds her hips into my face.
She screams “SIX DAYS BITCH!” as she succumbs to her mind blowing orgasm.
I don’t think I have ever been more aroused in my life as I gently licked the remaining juices from her inner thigh. I am so desperate, so hungry, my whole body seems to be overflowing with overpowering sexual desire. She grabs my hair and pulls my face back, handing me her empty wine glass. I notice that look, that look that only comes when you are sexually satisfied. That far away dreamy look, quiet, peaceful, relaxed.
“Refill bitch.” She says softly.
“Yes ma’am.” I take the bottle of wine and i refill her glas.
My wife snapped her finger and pointed to the corner. So, as I walked slowly and terribly to change my nose so close to the corner of the room she switched on the TV. So I stood. I stood there because that's what she told me to do with a simple snap of her beautifully manicured finger. I'm not sure how to explain what if you feel like being a grown man being put in the corner, other than the fact that you do not feel like a grown man at all.
She was looking at some boring reality show, it was bored even for listening. Time was running slowly and the pains in my legs were bigger. I imagined my life sitting in front of my TV screen watching a game drinking beer while my wife working in the kitchen. More than 3 years have passed since my wife locked all sports channels and more than 2 years after my wife banned me from accessing "our" TV because she was not satisfied with my homework. The only place where I get information from sports is at work, I am banned from using any device that connects to the Internet. I can only use the Internet with her permission just to check my email once in a week.
“Bring me a cigarette, bitch!!!” My wife wake me up from the dream.
“Yes Ma’am” I lighted my wife's cigarette and I I knelt in front of She, put my hands behind my back, my head was lifted up and my mouth wide open.She smoke rarely but today was not my day , I just earn one more day in my chastity Belt. My wife make a rule that whenever I am a reason to smoke cigarettes, I always get an extra day in my chastity . My wife thinks it's a fair price that I must pay for her health.Am I a reason today ? im not sure but im sure that I have plus one day in my chastity .
“Did you count it, bitch?” My wife asked me while she used my mouth as an ashtray.
“Ahem !!, Yes Ma’aM ahem!!ahem ! its 9 days now “I answered, whacking from her smoke.
“Good girl” she said and continued to enjoy her evening drinking wine and watching her favorite reality show. When i become my wife's ashtray,Im not sure but i know why. The reason its simple one day while I was cleaning the ashtray, it fell from my hands and broke then my wife decided to use my mouth and it continued in the future. I imagined how powerful my wife feels when she looks at me as I squat her in front of her with an open red mouth. I just figured out how I looked into her eyes. I figured out how to turn someone around your little finger as if it were a toy. I wondered what kind of rights I have in my own home, I can not even pee standing.
I hate to do all homework chores , I hate to be examined and punished after each completed task. oh I must be really stupid, only 30 minutes ago my wife explained my position in the house.
She spit and put out the cigarette in my mouth, “Bring me your bowl bitch”She said after.
“Yes ma’am” I quickly did it, my wife spat into the bowl and threw the cigarette butt inside.
“This is part of your tomorrow's breakfast, which I will personally serving you latter . Today you do not deserve a dinner. I will eat outside and I do not know when to get back. The next 30 days you have a ban on using furniture and cutlery. Your place is on the floor like a dog.” She drank her wine, turned off the TV, took her purse and walked to the door. I did not say anything, I just followed her as a faithful dog.
“It's all clear, youngman???” She looked at me with arrogance with her beautiful green eyes. She was so strict and so beautiful and i was her sissy bitch.
“Yes ma’am” I kissed her heels in front of the exit door.
“Oh, I almost forget, tonight you will sleep in your dog's cage in the garage , naked. And do not wait for me, and do not forget your bed time. I hope you have enough time to think, do you have the right to ask me "why. Here is the key, unlock your funny dress ” My wife said throwing the key from my uniform on the ground and slammed the door in front of my face full of makeup.
After a short time I heard the sound of her car leaving. Damn it, I really hated that cage, it's very cold at night, the cage is so small it does not allow any comfort, there is only one blanket on the floor. This gonna be a long night for me. I got rid of the dress and all the women's clothes on me. The feeling when I took off my heels was fantastic. My legs were red and I felt great relief. The thing is the same as a young girl, a teenager takes off her high heels after 5 hours party , the only difference is that I was a 37 year old man who is a teacher of those girls. Does a real man need to know the feeling of relief from 5 pumps high heels with a padlock at the ankles ? i don't think so. It was 21 o'clock, my bedtime is at 23:00 on weekdays and 00:00 on weekends, if my wife did not make changes. I sorted out the mess that my wife left and cleaned my face from lipstick and makeup. I looked at a mirror, I did not look like a cheap whore anymore. I did not carry anything on me except my pink dog collar, which in black letters called "Sarah's dog".I felt hungry, but I can not eat without the permission of my wife, the whole house is under camera and I can not cheat. She can look at me through her phone even when I piss like a girl. Its left less than half an hour until my bed time or my cage time tonight. I set up my alarm at 6:30 am on my old-fashioned phone, at 8:30 am I have to go to work. My wife usually wakes up at 7:30 am, I'm her alarm. I'm preparing her breakfast and she unlocks my dog's collar and I go to work.
When I'm not punished, my breakfast is my choice. But when I'm punished. I do not have breakfast or I eat what my wife is serving me, usually the remnants of dinner, or other food that is disgusting even for animals. I was curious what is my breakfast tomorrow . I knew it was a mixture of spitty oatmeal and a cigarette butt, but something is missing here. It was 22:45 I have just 15 minutes before my bedtime . I washed my teeth, and I sat down to piss. After all, I was ready to sleep, I took my bowl with me and I went down to the garage where my cage was placed in the left corner. I left my phone and my bowl near the cage and I got in. At the top of the cage above the entrance has written “George's house”. The cage is a gift for my 35th birthday from my wife. Not a normal gift for a man by his wife who respects him. My friend Jack got new golf clubs for his birthday from his wife, and Robert got a new guitar, these are real gifts. Oh, I do not even remember when I last played golf with them.
Exactly at 23:00, the light turned off, it was my wife who with one click on her phone could command even with the light in the house. I lay in the cage completely helpless, it was difficult to find a comfortable position.
I try to imagine my friend Jack sleeping naked in a cage on the orders of his wife Anne. She will not be able to sit on her ass for a week if only thinking about it, just as I could not sit on my butt when I was last beaten with my belt just because I was late for 1 hour. We were with my friends to watch the game, the match was interrupted and my time was not enough to take the game to the end, I wrote an SMS to her where I asked for permission to stay until the end of the match, I did not receive a feedback message and made a big mistake which I sat to the end. I did not get a message, but I got a bit that I would hardly forget about it. She was furious with me and beat me as if I were a little child so hard that I cried and begged for mercy.
She could see me even with lights turned off, the camera shot in the dark, so the rule was clearly I can’t out of the cage until the alarm rang or until I got a direct order from her.
So I was lying in my dog's cage completely naked. Her decision on where I sleep, like most of her decisions regarding my level of discomfort.I was angry то myself, because of a stupid mistake I earn 7 more days in mine chastity belt , 30 days without furniture and cutlery.i feel pain in my balls.
Finally i fell asleep. My night is spent not so much in restful sleep, nor even fitful consciousness, but rather in constant transition from stark awareness of my current situation to periods of semi-consciousness. My mind drifts in and out of consciousness. Even the short dreams that are supposed to relieve me from my suffering are of me in humiliating bondage; so it suffers for her even in sleep.
While my mind is cognizant it is restricted to the thoughts that my wife has ordered to think.
After a few hours, a strong blow to my cage woke me up, I was scared. I did not know what was happening at that moment.
“Wake up bitch!” I heard my wife, sleepy I saw her beautiful face, from the low light of her phone. She did not turn on the lights, just to scare me, a real bitch. Аfter a short laugh, she finally turned the lights on.
“Look what I have for you” She shakes the can of dog food in front of my face, but that's not all, she pulled out something wrapped in paper, it was a crust of pizza.
“Thank you ma’am” I had to be grateful, I can not make more mistakes I was too careful.
“How are you bitch , do you enjoy in your cage”she ask me and open the can of the dog food, bad smell spread through the garage.I hated that dog food. What a man I am, I lie naked in my garage in a dog cage, hungry, tired, frozen, humiliated and seeing how my sexy wife serves dog food mixed with oatmeal, spit, cigarette butt and pizza crust in my dog bowl.
I want to grab by her hair, to yelled on her why she returns home so late, I want to explain where she was, explain me why she smells on alcohol, I wanna fuck her so hard and make her to scream in pain. I want to be afraid only because she did not make dinner. I don’t want to make love to her, I want to ram my cock deep within her.
I also fantasize that I can stand and piss like a man, not tinkle in the bowl like a little girl. I fantasize that an erection isn’t a source of debilitating pain as my growing penis tries to rip my testicles out, causing what I can only describe as a ring of fire behind my balls.
“I am good Ma’am” She tilts her head and stairs into my soul while stirring with a spoon trying to make a mixture of food inside.
“And ???” She waited for another answer.
“And yes “ma’am I enjoy to be in my cage “I lied at that moment there was nothing that I hated more than my dog cage and my chastity cage.
"Home sweet home," she said pleasantly leaving the plate next to my phone on the ground.
“Mmm Yummy such a delicious meal, look honey your breakfast is ready, tomorrow you can boast to your colleagues and friends how valuable am I and that I have prepared a breakfast for you”
She laugh at me, how powerful she was how much control on me she have.
“Thank you ma’am”
“show me your neck let's see that collar. You don't wanna go like a dog tomorrow at work , dont you???”
“No i don't want to ma’am” I listened to the sound of unlocking and felt freedom in my neck.
“Tomorrow do not wake me up and be the quietest that you can, I want to sleep and I want to see an empty bowl. We understood ?” She takes everything in her control.
My meal at work is at 1 am so the better option was not to go with an empty stomach at work.
“Yes Ma’am I understand”
“Sleep Well bitch” She turn off the light and left. She went to sleep on our convenient and warm bed as if nothing had happened today and left me to sleep in misery and darkness in a dog's cage.
I will never ask "why" again.
to be continued…
Copyright © 2018 by George O'Neal
Copyright © 2018 by George O'Neal