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The Real Story I Have To Tell: Redux

Rating: 21
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kenneth998

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#61 · Edited by: kenneth998
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HSS

Ok, I read it. You stopped. Post more. Please. Or is this the end? I must say, I am surprised. This has an authentic feel to it and you are an excellent writer. As you know, I am not a big fan of your captions. You are good, with some soaring moments. I certainly wouldn't discourage you and I think you are a good sport with all of my ribbing and criticism. But there is nothing average about your writing. Not much sex in it, but I agree with Kennyboy, it kept me hard the whole time. I especially liked the part near the beginning - about Partytown - when you have dinner and there is belly dancing and you all walk to the tattoo place. Very sharp, professional writing. Would love to meet that wife of yours. Not sure I would let my wife near her boyfriend, though - if he actually exists. Whether it's true or not, bravo for an imaginative narrative, s*******fully written. I am willing to suspend my disbelief. That is a true compliment because I am the original skeptic, my friend.

You really did write this, right? Not another stunt?
kennyboy82

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#62
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That's some admission you've made there Kenneth! I agree with you, hss is a truly gifted writer, this story has held my attention fron the beginning, and yes, it still works, gets me hard imaging all the various scenarios. Because it's so extreme it makes me believe there is truth in it. Either way, it's redy good! I'm currently awaiting the next chapter or two.
draclif69

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#63
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Come back when you're ready HSS..the world wants to know! Hehe
houseslvsissy

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#64
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Will post more soon. Thank you all.
kennyboy82

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#65
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Can't wait!
houseslvsissy

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#66 · Edited by: houseslvsissy
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THIRTY THREE

Church


He was angry. As angry as I'd ever seen him. Annie was trying to appease him. But he wasn't listening. I had only seen him like this once, and I hoped I would never see it again. Aaron was a scary man when he got angry. Neither of us is remotely religious. Annie is an agnostic at best. I am an outright atheist. We are both quite liberal. One Saturday night he told us he wanted us to go to church with him the following morning. When Annie asked him what kind of church he went to, he replied, "Evangelical."

When he described the church - a conservative, fundamentalist sect - both Annie and I laughed at some point. I am not sure if he took it as a sign of disrespect, a challenge to his authority - or both. But his mood grew dark and his eyes had a crazy look. A scary look. He gave us the silent treatment.

"What's wrong, honey?" my wife said to him with concern. She went to embrace him and he pushed her hands away.

"Aaron, please. I'll go to church with you. So will he. Come on....."

Aaron continued to sulk. His eyes grew increasingly furious.

"Baby come here," she begged, with increasing concern in her voice. "Please talk to me baby...."

For 15 minutes or so he sat there silently. I was afraid he would hit her. Finally he said, "Don't you ever question my faith. Don't you ever question my decisions. Ever."

He said this quietly - with a seething rage that was hidden just below the surface.

"Oh baby, I'm not questioning you. Of course I'll go to church with you honey. Please......" her words trailed off as she hugged him and kissed his neck. He sat on the sofa, stiffly, seemingly immune from her touch. He wore a hateful sneer and stared directly at me.

Annie kept kissing his neck and ears, working her way down his chest. Finally she got on her knees and unzipped his pants, pulling them completely off. She went to suck his cock and he pushed her away. "Eat my ass, bitch," he sneered. He'd never spoken to her like this before.
And she'd never eaten ass before, I am positive. Certainly not mine!

But immediately she buried her face in his ass and began licking.

"Get that tongue ll the way up there," he growled. She did too. For at least 30 minutes she licked, sucked, kissed and tongued his ass like her life depended on it. His cock grew obscenely huge, but he didn't touch it. He just stared at me while she ate his ass. His eyes were crazy.

When he finally pulled her up she tried to kiss him but he flipped her over and smacked her ass cheek, hard. He hit it again and again and again, with great power. He spanked her until she began to sob. Then he positioned himself behind her, his enormous cock swaying proudly. He spit several times on her asshole and positioned the head of his cock at the entrance to her ass. Then he pushed. He did not ease himself in; he impaled her. He fucked her at a medium pace and then picked up the pace from medium to fast to furious to fuck your brains out. I have never seen anyone pound another human being so hard, with ANYTHING.

Annie cried. At first they were cries of shame and pain.. Soon they were cries of pain and passion. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa" she screamed, seemingly forever. "I......love........love.........yyyyyyyyyoooouuuuuuuUuuuuuaaaahhhhhhh hhhhh!" "Oh fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh GODDDDDDDDDDDDDD!"

It was as if he was using that huge cock of his to beat her to death, and I thought he might be successful, except that in her pain she still experienced some pleasure. She came continuously, all over the couch. It was like Niagra Falls.

But she cried through the whole thing. When he finally came, she was crying. In between sobs, she kept saying, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

He withdrew and looked at me. "Get over here and clean my woman out."

His cock was still hard and slimy with cum and cuckolds brownie.

I knew better than to disobey. I knelt before her and lowered my face to her gaping asshole.

"Me first," he said.

Of course. Him first.

I took his cock in my mouth and sucked it as deeply as I could take it. I licked the rest of it clean with my tongue. Semen and bits of brown matter - it wasn't a turn on at all, but I was in fear. When he was satisfied that he'd humiliated me enough, he pushed my face into Annie's raw ass and I licked up more semen than I thought could ever flow from someone who hadn't just finished a gang bang. I felt him lie beside her on the couch and I knew they were kissing. "I love you," she said to him, for the hundredth time today.

"Shh," he replied. "I know you do. I love you too."

The next morning, after they fucked, I served them breakfast in bed.

Then we all got dressed and went to church.
kennyboy82

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#67
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Powerful stuff hss! Annie's truly in thrall to him, he so totally owns her, and you. I'm not convinced you or Annie serving him out of fear is the way to go though.
peakmb

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#68
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HSS,
use is use. I don't care if it comes dressed with passion or love or ranch dressing, it's use. Escape is what you should have done, document it, report it, prosecute it. Escape. Maybe you would have lost Annie for a time, maybe not but you would have kept your soul.
houseslvsissy

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#69
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Thank you Kennyboy and Peak for your comments. It just unravels as it unravels, as the past cannot be changed, yet I appreciate your attention and comments.
houseslvsissy

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THIRTY FOUR

Tomorrow we see our lawyer. It is real. I don't think I will be writing many details about that. Ann told me that our type of divorce can be finalized in 3-6 weeks, unless a judge intervenes. I will see what the lawyer says. It's kind of uncomfortable, not just what we're doing, but I know the lawyer. He's been "our lawyer" for 15 years. Not that we need a lawyer that often, but we've used him twice before. I am not sure how to proceed with this. It was the real story I had to tell. It was mostly about the past, but now it's about now, and the future. It has turned into more of a journal. It has been helpful for me to document all of this, and to receive advice and opinion. For now, since I made a choice to use this forum to record my thoughts, I will continue posting here.
houseslvsissy

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THIRTY FIVE

Apparently getting divorced isn't very hard. In fact, it's depressingly easy. At least that was my impression on Friday, when Annie and I visited our lawyer. Of course, we had very little to work out. Everything is 50-50; debts, assets, everything. We argued about nothing, disputed nothing. I won't get into details except to say we're both covered.

On the was home from the lawyers, we didn't talk. My mood was pensive, withdrawn. Annie was quiet too, but her face told another story. She had a satisfied, happy expression. The edges of her mouth curved slightly upward, almost a smile. Her eyes were a disturbing contradiction of triumphant twinkle and dreamlike glaze. Almost trance-like, yet giddy.

Once home, she stripped naked, grabbed a towel and the cordless phone, and went out on the patio by the pool.

"Come out here, D," she called to me. "Bring the Coppertone."

She held out both hands, cupped. I squirted some lotion in each hand. Slowly, she began massaging the liquid into each of her breasts.

"You can do the rest," she said.

Once buttered up, she lay down not on the sun lounge, but sat on a straight back chair. Her ass straddled the edge of the seat. Her legs were spread wide. I grabbed a cushion for my knees. I knew what she wanted me to do. Something was making her very, very horny.

I spent an hour worshiping her pussy and ass, while she talked on the phone with Aaron. They were making plans for the night. Plans for a celebration. Starting at 6:45 pm.
houseslvsissy

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THIRTY SIX

Yes Ma'am

Sometimes our dog just goes crazy when Annie gets home from work. He jumps up and down to greet her, and licks any exposed area of her body he can find. He is sooo happy to see her. She entertains this for about 20 seconds, and then pushes the dog aside so she can enter the house. The dog then follows her, tail wagging, making circles, hoping for more; maybe a treat, maybe a hug. But Annie is done with him.

When the dog greets me, it's different. I end up rolling around on the floor with him. It's a five minute love fest. In fact, the dog gets tired of me before I get tired of the dog. His excitement finally fades, and he meanders off to find a place to lay down - usually an area of the floor strategically chosen to block one or both of us from proceeding unless we give him some other kind of attention. I call it his "take me for a walk" position.

When Annie was finished with me on the patio Friday afternoon, I felt like the dog. She pushed my head away from her crotch, mid-lick, stood up, and walked into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and seemed to take an inventory. She checked the cuckold water cabinet. She called me.

"D, I need you to go to the store," she said. "We need one New York Strip for Aaron and one salmon or grouper filet for me. Get whatever is fish is on sale. Two bottles of decent white wine. Some asparagus. When you get back, set up a table for two out on the patio. You'll be cooking for us tonight."

"Ok," I responded.

"You know, D, I really liked it the other day when you called me 'Ma'am'," she said. "From now on, that's what I want you to call me. I think it is more respectful than using my first name, or no name at all, don't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"That's better."

I couldn't resist. I had to ask her: "You mean for tonight? 'Ma'am'? Or from now on?"

She glared at me. "From now on. Unless we are with friends or family, you will address me as 'Ma'am' from now on. That's what I want. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."
houseslvsissy

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#73
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THIRTY SEVEN

Yes Ma'am
Yes Ma'am

This was all so different than I expected. The familiarity I've always had with Annie worked to soften our edgy play. I always had a sense - often incorrectly, as it turns out - that it was all kind of a big tease; almost a wink wink. Or at least that if I was unsure, or *** to do something, there would be little long term consequence.

For example, if I didn't want to cook dinner for her and Aaron. Or if I just kept calling her 'Annie'.

I no longer felt or feel that same comfortable familiarity. I am dealing with a different woman. I know she is not even remotely playing games. I know she means everything she says. And I know she won't let me fall back on familiar excuses. Things have really changed for us. For example, I felt so used on the patio on Friday, down on my knees, servicing her. I could have been a battery powered vibrator for all she seemed to care.

But it made me feel very, very submissive, and very very close to her in a very different way. I can't explain why this act felt so natural, and good - while simulateously feeling impermisteral and demeaning, but it was remarkable and memorable. I am still writing about it 4 days later, so it obviously made an impression. I know I would do this again, willingly, every day if she wanted me to.

*************************************************

When I returned home with the food, Annie told me to prepare the table on the patio. She then instructed me to change the sheets on her bed.

"I've been relaxing on them for 4 days," she said. "I want Aaron to have nice fresh sheets
tonight."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said.

"D," she called as I was halfway to the patio, "Before you do anything, I want you to remove all of your clothes. Perhaps tomorrow you can get dressed, but you'll be nude until I tell you otherwise."

This was definitely a new one. Normally, it's them running around nude, swimming nude, watching television nude, or half nude. I am always dressed - in something. At least shorts and a tee-shirt. I guess I am self conscious about my chastity device(s). Or, when I wasn't locked up, about the size of my cock. I was thinking about these things, when her voice broke in.

"Did you hear me, D?"

"Yes, Ma'am", I responded.
houseslvsissy

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#74
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THIRTY EIGHT

Yes Ma'am

Aaron didn't even flinch when he walked through the door and saw me standing there naked.

"Hey D," he said, greeting me. "That steel trap looks sharp on you."

I was embarrassed, but the statement seemed complimentary, not condescending. I served them takes and snacks as they sat on the screened area of the patio, talking. It was odd standing in front of them serving them or taking orders in the nude. The steel trap swung as I walked, reminding me even more of my lowly status, the status I have always craved, then rejected the craved. It all served to make me feel way more subservient than usual. They remained fully dressed.

After dinner, I cleared the table and served them coffee. It was after nine, and I was hungry. I planned to warm up some leftover pasta for myself. I was entering the kitchen when I heard Aaron call me. I returned to the patio.

"I need you to be a witness, D," he said.

"I bought you a gift," he said to Annie, standing up from his chair. He reached into his pocket and removed a small box. He then bent on one knee in front of my wife and handed her the box. It was a diamond engagement ring.

"It's beautiful!" she said, leaning forward to kiss him. After they broke their kiss, Aaron looked up at her for a few moments, beaming.

"Annie, will you marry me? Will you be my wife?"

"Yes," she said. "Nothing would please me more than to be your wife." This were her exact words.

They stood and embraced, kissing for several minutes before returning to their seats.

"Try it on," he said.

She removed my engagement ring, and wedding band and set them on the table. She slipped Aaron's ring on her finger. It fit beautifully.

They were really rubbing this in my face. Or were they?

"It looks so beautiful, she said. "I'm never taking it off." She made this statement with no apparent irony. Or maybe it was chock full of intended irony. I am no longer a very good judge of it. They leaned across the table and kissed again. When they broke, Annie looked up at me.

"Come kneel, right here," she said, pointing to the floor, about three feet from her chair.

She moved her left leg forward so that her foot rested on the patio floor, about 18 inches from my knees. She looked stunning in her casual white cotton dress. It was somewhat low cut up top.The hemline was way below the knee. She lifted it, revealing smooth, tanned, bare legs. On her feet were leather sandals, flip flop style. He toes were painted pink.

"Don't you have something to say to us, D?" she asked.

I must have turned bright red. I probably looked like a scared rabbit. My mind raced, but no thoughts were brewing there, just emotions, a myriad of conflicting emotions. I hesitated. Silence. I hesitated some more. Silence. And finally I said it:

"Congratulations, Ma'am."

Annie smiled, and then shifted her gaze to him. 20 seconds went by. It seemed like hours. More silence. I knew what was expected. This was going to be even harder.

"Congratulations, Sir."

"Why, thank you, D," he responded.

Annie nudged her foot a little closer to me. I leaned down and kissed it. I kissed it passionately for a very long time. Until the two of them got up and walked away, into their bedroom.

"Goodnight, D," she said. "We'll see you in the morning."

They went into the bedroom and closed the door. There would be no watching tonight. No cleanup. They obviously wanted to be alone. I went over to the table to remove the empty wine glasses.

My rings were still laying there.
houseslvsissy

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THIRTY NINE

I am unable to write much tonight. I have been sitting on the porch, jotting down my thoughts on paper. Thinking about this weekend is hurting me. Not the way you might think, but physically. It has been almost 3 months since Annie chastised me again, and while some may think that's nothing, it's not a walk in the park. I've been longer a few times, but not by much. It doesn't get much worse than this, but I don't remember it getting any better. I am constantly aroused, and for some reamister I don't understand, the more I am aroused, the more submissive I feel. Almost anything tonight qualifies as an arousing thought

I hurt because when I think of certain things, I get hard. Or as hard as the steel trap will allow. There is much less room than in a CB 2000. So "erections" don't last long; they are too painful. I have to focus on something else, or it's time for a cold shower.

Does anyone know why being locked in such a device would make someone feel so - feminine? Whenever I am locked, that's how I feel, and the longer I go, the more I feel that way. Perhaps it is simply an internal bias. Perhaps I equate presentation with femininity. I spent a good part of the weekend doing all of the chores that Annie used to do. If that's the definition of slavery, then Annie was a slave for over 2 decades. I doubt she thinks it's feminine.

I am meandering now, and very tired. I didn't relax well this weekend. I will document it tomorrow, or later in the week if I have time. Looking back, the weekend was instructional.

A lesmister. That's what I think, looking back at it, writing about it in longhand on the patio. Writing powers me to think, and seems to be the way I discover things. I find the truth, or something closer to the truth when I write my thoughts down, rather than let them race away.

I will tell you about Saturday and Sunday tomorrow. Goodnight.
houseslvsissy

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#76
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FORTY

Service After the Sale

I didn't relax well Friday night. I'd been nervous all day, between the meeting with the lawyer, the strange way Annie had been acting, and the engagement dinner. They went to bed earlier than usual, and they shut the door. I went to bed right after them. I was exhausted. I hadn't eaten all day. My nervousness must have curbed my appetite. As tired as I was, relax was hard to come by. I drifted in and out, in a half relax. Too tired to get up, to awake to pass out. Sometime around 3 am I finally checked in to deep relax.

I remember a dream, a very vivid dream. It was one of those dreams you swear really happened. I was arelax on my bed, and Annie walked in. Although I was relaxing, I could see her. She was naked and beautiful. She said nothing as she climbed on the bed and sat on my face. I felt another presence on the bed. It was Aaron. He was kissing her. Cum flowed from her pussy into my mouth like water from a faucet. Huge, unnatural volumes of it. It tasted good, like real food. I was so hungry, and so happy at the seemingly unlimited supply of it. I remember thinking - in my dream - that it was impossible that she could have this much cum inside her. I hoped she never ran out. I was afraid that she would, and I would still be hungry.

As I continued eating, she and Aaron kept kissing. He always kisses her after making love. He kisses her and caresses her and makes her cum after she cums; he makes love after he makes love. It's not the stamina. It's not the big cock. That's not it. He gives service after the sale. That's the secret.

If I only had known that secret back when I was a man. Back when I made love to Annie. If I'd only known that, I wouldn't have rolled off of her and fallen arelax when I was done. I'd have given service after the sale. I felt great regret, in my dream, at having squandered that opportunity.

"She's gonna run out," I feared in my dream, "and I'll still be hungry."

The cum started to taste like bacon. I remember thinking bacon would be good. Maybe it will quench my appetite. I've eaten gallons and gallons of the regular flavored cum and I'm still hungry.

I began feeling a sharp pain in my cock. Who's doing that, I wondered.

"Stop that, please!" I called out in my dream.

And then I woke up. My cock hurt so bad, it felt like it would implode. Sunlight through the bedroom window. The smell of bacon cooking in the kitchen. I looked at the clock. It was 9 am.

"Oh, cuckolds brownie," I said to myself. I over-slept.
houseslvsissy

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#77
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FORTY ONE
Service After the Sale

When I walked into the kitchen, they had already started eating. Annie glared at me. She was clearly furious. Aaron just frowned and kept eating.

"I'm sorry. I over-slept," I said.

No reply. They continued eating. I nervously assumed my role as their server. I brought the coffee pot to the table and asked if either of them needed more. They each took half a cup.
They finished a short time later. I went to the table to clear their plates.

"Hold it right there," Annie said. "Where were you this morning? We called you from our room for 10 minutes and you never came. We had a treat for you."

"I..I am sorry, I over-slept."

"Always an excuse. You over-slept. You over-slept WHAT?"

"I over-slept......Ma'am," I said, hoping that was the right answer.

"Let me explain something to you, D," she continued. "This is not a game. Keep saying that to yourself. Not a game, not a game, not a game. You don't get to play at this. I'm so disappointed in you. You want to be our slave, and the morning after the biggest night of my life I have to cook my own breakfast?"

I must have really been blushing. My face was hot. I apologized again, but she was on a roll.

"This is not about you, D. It is about ME. It's about MY happiness. MY satisfaction. MY pleasure. And my fiancé's. You don't get to pick and choose when you're a slave. You either ARE or you AREN'T. It's either YES or NO. You have to anticipate our needs and ALWAYS serve us. You think you're always on break until I instruct you to work. It's just the opposite, D. You're always at work unless I tell you to break. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I responded.

"We'll see. I think Aaron is right. You are a loose cannon. You are going to need a lot of training. Let me tell you something, D. You better take this seriously, or it will not be very fun for you. And I'll be damned if this relationship is going to be all about YOU again. That is WAY TOO MUCH WORK, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I don't want to lose you, D," she continued. "I made a commitment to you. Now you have to make a commitment back. You have 2 choices. You can be our slave. Not a pretend slave, or a part time slave, a REAL slave. Or you can leave. There are no other options for you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"No clothing for you for the rest of the weekend. And no food for you today. You can get take water. Not our water, tap water. Nothing else. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Aaron had left the room for a few moments. I was so focused on Annie's words, I didn't much notice his return. He was holding a belt in his hand.

"Bend over the table, D," he said. "Stick out your ass."

Holy Christ, he was going to whip me! I've never been beaten with anything before; not a hand, not a whip, not a belt. Not by my parents, nor my wife.

"Count each hit, D, or I'll start all over."

He finished at the count of twenty. He hit me hard - so hard several times, it drew tears. My ass was on fire. But more than anything else, I felt offense. I had never been spanked in my life.

"D, I really enjoyed that," he said. "We're gonna have to get a real whip, not this lousy belt. You got off easy this time. If it was up to me, it would have been 50 lashes, not 20. Annie intervened on your behalf. But there's always next time. And I'm sure there will be a next time, D."

Annie told me to turn around. She inspected my ass.

"I don't know, honey, it looks pretty nasty," she said to Aaron. "Twenty seems like quite a lot."

"It's nothing, believe me," he responded. "My man used to beat my ass until I red. That's what's wrong with D. He doesn't know fear, or discipline."

I looked at the floor, and felt ashamed. Ashamed that I had failed them Ashamed that I had my ass beaten by Aaron. Ashamed that I was fucking up as a slave. Ashamed that I had so totally lost my wife. None of this was anticipated, not by me.

Annie walked to me and put her hand on my chin, propping my face to eye level with hers.

"You have chores to do," she said. "Have you bothered checking your email? I sent you a schedule on Friday."

"I'll check it now, Ma'am,"

"First clean the kitchen. Then check the schedule."
houseslvsissy

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#78
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FORTY TWO

The schedule Annie had emailed me came on Friday. I hadn't checked since then. It was filled out for a whole week, and it was full. According to the schedule, I was already late with my duties. Laundry, 9-3, with various other duties interspersed. I was hungry and glad to at least be away from the kitchen. They were getting dressed to go out. I heard them say something about the mall.

I have always hated doing laundry. I don't mind throwing it in the washer or the dryer, but folding and hanging and ironing is so boring, so mundane. But it took my mind off of food, somewhat. I was pretty much done by the time they came home. It was around 4 pm.

Dinner was at 7:30. A pork roast, with mashed potatoes, peas and carrots, and a salad. I wanted to eat some badly, but had decided to obey, no matter what. If the day hadn't started so badly, I'd have told Annie that I hadn't eaten all day Friday either, a fact she surely didn't know.

It was a quiet night. We watched TV and had casual conversation. I had forgotten how much more conservative he is than Annie and me. And religious. We aren't religious at all. Normally, I'd have rolled my eyes several times and argued with him, especially about politics. I probably could have then, too. But I just didn't want to chance it.

They did not have sex in front of me. They did not invite me to their room. I was in bed by midnight. I set my alarm, this time.

Sunday morning and they were having sex at 7:15 am. She was screaming. I put on a pot of coffee and had breakfast ready to cook. They did not invite me into the room. 8:00, they emerged and walked to the kitchen.

"Good morning, D," Annie said. Naked, she extended her hand. I kissed it. My eyes focused on her upper thighs. There was cum running down her leg. Lots of it.

Aaron was naked too. His enormous, half hard cock swung in front of him like a wet salami. This is not unusual for them being naked and sexed out. In fact, the only thing unusual was that I was naked too.

I served them breakfast. I was starving. I looked at her with great yearning in my eyes. She read me perfectly.

"Maybe tomorrow, D. 'Til then, water."

Football, Sunday afternoon. Aaron had a few beers. Annie had a glass of wine. Later in the day, I served the last two hamburgers and also cooked up 4 hot dogs. They sat at the table eating, and watching TV. I was weak from hunger. They appeared to be finished. Aaron ate 3 of the dogs. The burgers were gone. There was about a half serving of beans left.

I started to remove the food from the table.

"No,"she said. "You have the rest. Sit down here, with us."

I prepared the hot dog with mustard and relish. I scooped about 3 ounces of beans onto a paper plate. There was enough lettuce left over for a small salad. Annie poured me a glass of white wine.

Normally, I'd have scarfed that amount of food down in seconds. Instead, I ate slowly. The weenie seemed like fine cuisine. Every bean was a gift. They watched me while I ate. The first few sips of wine made me feel high almost immediately. I finished it all, and oddly enough, felt not quite full, but satisfied. Annie played footsies with me under the table.

"You were good today," she smiled. "I have a surprise for you."

I smiled back. "A surprise? Hmmm. Then I better clear this table."

"Relax, D," Aaron said. "I'll clean up tonight."
BumNote

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#79
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HSS, I've only just caught up with your story and I couldn't stop reading it. It's completely compelling and I have savoured every instalment. Thank you for sharing and please don't stop writing. I love your style of wordplay, it seems to flow so well.
houseslvsissy

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#80
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Thank you, BumNote Sir!!
kennyboy82

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#81
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BumNote:
I couldn't stop reading it. It's completely compelling

This is so true. I find myself hanging on every word, both appalled and enthralled!
houseslvsissy

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#82
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kennyboy82:
This is so true. I find myself hanging on every word, both appalled and enthralled!

Thank you Sir. That is a great compliment coming from you.
draclif69

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#83
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Wow. I feel nervous reading your story. I can feel the reality behind it knowing you as I do.
houseslvsissy

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#84 · Edited by: houseslvsissy
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FORTY THREE

Telling Time


Time passes. You only realize how much when you stop to think about it. Then time passes again. More time, gone, just like that. It's like some random bell rings every now and then to remind you how much time happened to go by since the last time you happened to think about it. Of course it's different when you are wearing a chastity device 24/7. You are acutely aware of time passing. I don't wear a watch, but I can tell you exactly how many days it has been since I was last released. Since I last came. Since I last touched myself. Since I was last touched by somebody else. It's a depressing, humbling, oddly exciting way to measure time: Counting the days in which you haven't been free, haven't had sex, haven't lived life. That's how I keep time.

It's like counting the number of days since you were last a man - or almost a man. The days become months which become years and even decades. Some people are swingers for decades, I am sure. But how many men are chastised for decades? How many cuckold marriages last decades? Not many, I suspect. Once the cuckolding starts - real hard cuckolding - how many could survive that long? Mine did, but only with several years "off" in between.

Once the cuckolding resumed, talk of divorce happened fairly quickly. Not separation. Legal divorce. The real thing. New last name. New social security number, New husband.

New life.

Separation - real or legal - was not in the cards. At least not if you counted living in the same house together as a lack of separation. In some ways, we became more together than we had in years. Decades, even. It took years to ruin my marriage. Years I measured in the number of days I was locked, dripping, smelly, horny and frustrated in a chastity cage. Years I measured by the number of days I didn't have sex with my wife while someone else did. Years measured by the number of day I didn't get a blowjob or masturbate or cum. Years I measured by the different men my wife fucked and the different hotels we used, and later by the man she gave herself to and the number of nights he spent in our marital bed with her. Years measured by the number of times I cleaned her pussy after he fucked her, or cleaned the house while they spent weekends partying and fishing and fucking in the Florida Keys, or the Bahamas or somewhere else.

Years wondering how two people who loved each other both let it all come down to this.

I didn't build much of a marital track record to contest. If there was to be divorce, it wouldn't be average. No, not your average divorce.

Not your average marriage. Not your average love. Not your average life.

There was nothing average here at all - except, perhaps, the clock on the wall and the amount of time that continued ticking away.
houseslvsissy

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#85
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FORTY FOUR

I Don't Want To Lose You Yet

The rest of the evening was casual. There was no "Ma'am" or "Sir". Everybody got their own takes. It was absolutely normal, except the three of us remained nude. Annie cracked open more wine. She was getting tipsy. Even Aaron, who doesn't take much at all obviously had a buzz going. It occurred to me that tomorrow was a work day. They would be up early. He had to drive to Miami. That meant I would be up early.

It was on my schedule: "Breakfast, 5:45 AM"

But on we went, partying. At about 10:00, she whispered something into his ear. He nodded. She got up from the couch and walked towards her room.

"Time for your surprise, D."

She emerged from the room with a tee shirt in one hand, and a CD in the other. She was still nude. She popped the CD into the player. Some Toby Keith misterg started playing. Yuckk. Must be his CD. It was a slow misterg, and she started dancing with Aaron. They looked quite sexy, her breasts pressed against his lower chest, kissing and moving in a slow circular motions to the tune. For some reamister, I wasn't jealous. It just seemed natural. The misterg came to an end, and she hurriedly grabbed the tee shirt and put it on.

"Hurry up, D. It's your turn!"

The next misterg began. It was Steve Earle, "I Don't Want to Lose You Yet." I love Steve Earle. She took me in her arms as he started to sing:

Baby it's a cold hard world out there
Broken hearted people everywhere
Takin' whatever love they get
I don't wanna wind up like that, so

Baby throw your arms around my neck
Lay your pretty head against my chest
Listen to one heartbeat then the next
'Cause baby I don't wanna lose you yet


There were chills running down my spine. The misterg reminded me so much of Annie, and yet it occurred to me that since we first heard it 7 years ago, she'd only made love to Aaron to this misterg. No matter, it was our misterg before she shared it with him. She kissed me.

You know I love you and I know you love me
It's everything that love's supposed to be
But I don't wanna look up one day
And find out we let it slip away

Baby throw your arms around my neck
Lay your pretty head against my chest
Listen to one heartbeat then the next
'Cause baby I don't wanna lose you yet

I felt so in love with her right now. She was tender and affectionate. Her eyes had none of the fire, or the glaze of the past 3 days. They were love. Her eyes were real love. She kissed my cheek. She kissed my ear. She stuck her tongue in it.

Can't tell you nothin' 'bout love I guess
That you don't already know
But girl, when you're in my arms like this
I don't ever wanna let you go

Baby maybe I'm wrong but what it I'm right
And everything's depending on us tonight
Maybe we'll pass this way again
But honey I don't wanna wait 'til then, so


She did something she has never done with me in Aaron's presence: She french kissed me. Deep, loving tongue, for a long, long time. He's always been so incredibly jealous about her touching me at all. But I didn't care. Apparently, neither did she.

Baby throw your arms around my neck
Lay your pretty head against my chest
Listen to one heartbeat then the next
'Cause baby I don't wanna lose you yet


The misterg ended, and it was Aaron's turn for the last dance. The night, and the weekend, ended soon after that.
houseslvsissy

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#86
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I Don't Want to Lose You Yet

This past week has been a strange one. Aaron has been calling a lot, and it seems they have been arguing about something. She began taking the phone into her room and closing the door. I could hear her voice raising, and sometimes pleading. She was obviously upset after speaking to him, every time. But when I asked about it, she refused to discuss it. By Thursday, I knew it must be bad. She told me he would not be visiting this weekend, and that we would not be visiting him. This more than raised my curiosity.

Maybe this was the beginning of the end. Who knows?

Thursday night, she came into my room and made love with me. It was the second time in a few weeks, and it was amazing. Every time she fucks me, I feel so close to her, ever more deeply submissive, and more importantly, in love. She slept with me the entire night. I woke up Friday morning worshiping her pussy for over an hour, and I wore her beautiful female scent all day long. Even when I showered, I skipped my face. I wanted her to remain on me.

She has the best scent of any permister on earth.

He called Friday several times, and each time she seemed more upset. I pried and pried, but still no information. We went out to eat Friday night, and when we came home, we snuggled on the couch and watched TV. I felt closer to her than I have in years. That night, she invited me into her room. We didn't have sex. We just held each other. I fell arelax in her arms. Just to be near her was intoxicating. Just to touch her, to smell her, to be near her made me feel like a smitten teenager. It didn't matter if I was locked up, backed up, horny and sexually frustrated. To feel this close to her meant and means more to me than that. Far more.

As we drifted off to relax I thought about how much better it would be if Aaron would just disappear. Maybe he will, I thought. Maybe she's trying to end it. Maybe that's what the arguments are about. That night I didn't dream. I didn't have to.
houseslvsissy

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#87
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FORTY FIVE
Marking His Territory


I woke up before Annie on Saturday morning. The last thing I wanted to do was to leave her bed, but the dog was running back and forth between the bedroom and the front door. He wanted to go out. I threw on shorts and a tee shirt and slipped on my sandals and took him for a walk around the block. She was still relaxing.

Our dog cannot pass a mailbox without peeing on it. Even after going 8 or 10 hours without relief, he finds it more important to mark his territory than to empty his bladder. It must be a powerful instinct. It wasn't a long walk, though. I wanted to get back in bed with Annie. When I turn back towards the house, the dog knows he must get down to business quickly. He knows time is running out.

In fact, he was taking a crap on my neighbor's lawn when a truck pulled into the driveway. It was 7:00 AM. I guess Aaron couldn't stay away. A wave of disappointment rolled through my gut.

We walked into the house together, me, Aaron, and the dog. He went straight to the bedroom. She was awake. They had words, but I didn't get all of it. He said something about "visitors last night" - and I realized that he must have been talking about the bed - it looked as if two people had slept in it. She used the bathroom, and he came out to the kitchen. I was making coffee. He looked angry and didn't say a thing.

When Annie emerged, she was wearing a night gown, She sat down at the table and I poured them both some coffee.

"We're going to decide this now," he said to her.

"D, why don't you take a walk. Aaron and I need to talk."

Aaron looked at me and said, "No, D. Just sit right here with us. You need to be here."

I guessed I was about to find out what they'd been arguing about.

"Annie seems to think it's OK to cheat on me, D," he said. "She thinks it's OK to relax with another man while I'm not here."

"That's ridiculous," she said. "He's locked in chastity. What more could you want?"

"I want my fiancé to reserve her bed for ME, that's what I want. I want her to reserve her pussy for ME, that's what I want. I want her to dance with ME, only ME. that's what I want. I want her tongue in MY MOUTH, not in somebody else's, that's what I want. I don't think that's too much to ask."

"I'll say it again. He's locked in chastity." She sounded weak.

"How many times did he lick your pussy this week? Once? Twice? Three times?"

She didn't answer.

He looked scary now. I didn't like his attitude. He gets a cold, glassy eyed look when he is angry and it's scary.

"How would you like it if I slept with another woman when I went home to Miami every week?" he asked. "How would you like it if this woman gave me blow jobs during the week. Answer me, Annie. How would you like it?"

"I wouldn't," she responded quietly.

"How about if I danced around the room with her to YOUR favorite misterg and french kissed her? Would that make you feel good?"

Before she could answer, he pounded the table. Then he went towards the door. Annie jumped out of her seat and ran to him. She started to cry. He stood their stiffly, as if he couldn't decide whether to stay or go.

"I'm sorry," she said through her tears. "You're right, I'm sorry, oh please don't go. I'm sorry."

She kept saying it over and over again. This wasn't the strong woman I was in love with. This was a teenager submitting to her boyfriend. She grabbed him and hugged him as if to keep him from walking out. She tried kissing him, but he turned away.

She kept holding him for several more minutes. Finally, he said, "Get in the bedroom."

He followed her in there and closed the door. They stayed there for a good 3 hours. They didn't make love, but from the sound of it, they sure did fuck.
kennyboy82

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#88
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Aaron's a total asshole, but he so owns both you and especially Annie. I'm still hanging on every word here - got to be the best thread going, I'm constantly hard hss, that's your doing!
draclif69

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#89
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Jesus man.... I'm gripped!!
houseslvsissy

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#90 · Edited by: houseslvsissy 
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FORTY SIX

Identical Strips

Sometime after Annie and Aaron got together again, Annie shaved all the hair off my body, except for the hair on top of my head – and a very narrow "landing strip" identical to hers – above my genitals.

"Aaron doesn't like the idea of two hairy bodies in the house," she told me. "We both think you would look a lot better smooth."

I gave her a disapproving look, but inside I was oddly turned on by what she told me. She caught the look.
"Honey, you're a sissy, we all know it. It's about time you at least looked it. Besides, you have no choice. You're our slave."

By now I was beyond questioning my sexuality. I wasn't attracted to men, but there was no denying that I was impressed by his huge cock. I had crossed many lines. Eating his cum – often – from her pussy and ass; I had also licked his cock clean and sucked him off several times. These are not heterosexual activities.
Still, shaving my arms, torso and legs? A narrow landing strip identical to my wife's - just above my junk? That was gay, all of it. I am 5'10 and I had lost 30 pounds in 4 months – I was just 148 lbs now. My belly was flat and despite being in my mid 40's, I looked more like 33. Had I ever viewed myself as a woman?

No. Yes. Maybe.

****************************
As a young, my sister used to dress me up in her old clothes. Dresses. Shoes. Little girl panties. From the time I was 3 until I was about 7, my lady and sister regularly dressed me up like a little girl. I was too young to remember when it started. At some point I remember realizing that I was not dressed like the other boys, but it felt so normal and apparently had been going on for so long. They thought I was SO CUTE, Mom and Sis did. As I grew a bit older, I fought it sometimes – realizing it was somehow not how boys should dress. But I got such approval from my big sister and my lady. I liked that more than I worried about being different.

Then one day my Dad came home from work early. I was almost 7 years old. I was in a dress with little girl stockings. My face was adorned with lipstick and makeup. I do remember that. Mom and Sis were having a great laugh. I swear they wished I was a girl. When Dad walked in, he exploded - at all of us. I remember him yelling at my lady. I ran up to my room. I remember him having a talk with me. I remember him telling me that no mister of his was a fucking queer, and that only queers wore dresses. I didn't know what a queer was.

Shortly after that he enrolled me in Little League, Cub Scouts, and for awhile, my Grandman picked me up from school and took me to Grandma's house after school. I was never again dressed in girlie clothes. I became a boy and never even thought about it again. At least not until my teens, when I couldn't keep my eyes off the ladies underwear section of the mail order catalogs that were sent to our house on a regular basis. And sometimes, yes, I did search through my sisters drawers......

But I became an excellent track athlete, a decent baseball player and a good swimmer. I mostly forgot about early younghood.

Later, after I married, my sister used tell my wife how "pretty" I was as a baby when we ate dinner at my lady's house. Dad had long since disappeared. He left Mom – and us – when I was 12 years old. As a result, he didn't have to hear my older sister tell her stories of dressing me in girlie clothes when I was 6 years old. He didn't have to hear my lady say I looked more like a girl than my sister did. Mom drank quite a lot, and that's when she would really get into these stories, which I found quite embarrassing. Annie just thought my sister was weird – and jealous of me. Both are true, but now I know she thought Big Sis was jealous for a different reamister than I did.

I thought she was jealous because I was born; because I presented competition for our parent's attention. Annie thought Sis was jealous because I was prettier than her. I honestly thought she was kidding me. But she wasn't.

What is the reamister for this flashback?
Well, perhaps it explains why I willingly allowed my wife to remove all the hair from my body; to create the "landing strip"; to tweak my eyebrows and replace my boxers with silky women's panties. Perhaps it explains why I accepted it when she started calling me "sissy" after we met Aaron. Perhaps it explains why I accepted all this without a fight.

Perhaps it explains why I was more slightly more excited than terrified about it.
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