A Proper Household – Sex Stories
I’m 60 years old now and it took me till age 50 before I got my priorities straight and set up my household on a Master/slave basis. I am glad, now, for very good genes and Viagra. This is a liberal West coast town, but when I walk down the street with My two whores, I do see the women frown or scowl at times, while, at the same, time �tolerating� what appears to be an unusual lifestyle. My first bitch, My wife, 53 years old, Marie, who no longer works as a lawyer, got her fucking come-uppance 10 years ago, when I got sick of fucking around with submissive bitches outside of marriage. she was an over-educated, nerdy cunt, good enough looking with a pretty enough face, and good legs that were never shaved. Our/our two kids were married and, for some reason, both had moved to the other coast. She was an ultra-liberal �feminist�, so I’d expected a blow-up and an furious rebuff when I decided to shove a pair of her panties in her mouth when I was fucking her one night and said, �This is how it’s going to be.� I was more than surprised when she didn’t even raise a hand and started moaning in passionate response and gushing at her cunt.
Frankly, I was planning to divorce the bitch, but she responded to this act of sexist aggression on her and my reading of the riot act to her, with remarkable passivity and docility. I told her, �Marie, I’m not going to beat around the bush. I am just not interested in ‘sharing’ power in this household anymore�� Even after the good fuck I got, I thought sure these words would spell the end of our marriage. But Marie said, �I know, Victor, I’ve seen your pornographic magazines and videos. I’m, sorry, I found the key to your big metal ‘toolbox.’ I had a feeling you’d want to do this�� That was the beginning of my being Master in My home at last. And the end of that cunt having her way in regard to ANYTHING in My house ever again. she had seen My illicit pornography collection where women were given what they fucking deserved, whipped, hurt and fucked at will. And she fucking knew what she was getting in for. Some Men have a sort of Madonna complex with Their wives and I confess this was probably the reason I had not seen it before in her. There were clues there that, when I might pick a bitch up in a bar or in a casual encounter, I could see clear as day. But I suppose I just couldn’t allow Myself to see them with Marie.
My Cock was almost immediately hard again, when Marie said, �I’m ready, Victor, for you taking the lead completely. I’ve been ready for it for quite a while.�
�I’m only interested in a Male Supremacist household, on My terms. No motherfucking ‘negotiations.’�
�I know, Victor. You want me to keep my mouth shut, unless spoken to. I know that ‘use and abuse’ is a big part of it.�
Here, I could see perhaps her own fantasies taking hold.
She’s the bleached blonde on My right arm, in 5� high heeled pumps, short skirt, cinch-waist corset, and push-up bra. She wears bright red lipstick ALWAYS, has nice false eye-lashes, and has wicked long, bright red, natural fingernails. The 40� tits are the result of implants that went in 6 months after I laid down the law with her. I decided I was going the upgrade the bitch and give her the kind of tits I like.
So how does a Man make a life-time �good girl� into an obedient, boot-licking, man-serving, fuck-taking whore? It’s not always that simple, but I just made things clear with the cunt. Things were going to be my way and my terms from then on, period. There are times when stubborn habits and positions become ossified and can crumble when faced with a firm alternative. Such was the case with Marie. It was no �miracle.� That I can tell you because I’ve done it with other cunts outside marriage. And there was no �threat� of divorce really involved, though, it’s true, I had fully intended that I would make my demands to Marie clear and if they were not met, she’d have been on her own. No. Most women are incredibly conformist in regard to normative culture. Everyone in our precincts and educated generation was saying that she was supposed to be �independent,� �empowered,� and �feminist.� So she conformed—beginning, really, from college days. But there is a deep �latent image� in every woman that sexually responds to male aggression and authority. There is a secret yearning in every woman to be firmly taken in hand and ruled. This is my firm belief and understanding . And as most married Masters have done with �vanilla� wives, I just forced it to the surface what was there all along.
Now, the response will always differ with different women. With My first extra-marital girlfriend, she declared openly she would never be a �sex slave.� She was, on the surface, very resistant to the idea of male presumption and dominance. In that case, I just wouldn’t take no for an answer and pushed past her resistances to make her my first obedient cunt-slave. With Marie it was less complicated. She told me later that she had known for years about My hidden desires, that, of course, she knew about my kink-filled infidelities and had decided some time ago to submit to me, if I should assert myself. She quietly said, �Well, you know how my dad was�� And I said, �You mean the ‘sexist pig’ father of yours you’ve bad-mouthed your whole life?�
�Yeh. But that was what I was supposed to say. Sure, he gave my mother the back of his hand, when he felt she was getting out of line. But he kept things ORDERLY. He was so fucking strict with my sister and me and we got corporeal punishment nearly weekly. But my mother and we MINDED OUR MANNERS at home. Now that you force me to respond honestly, I think my father was just acting like a man should. If a man doesn’t smack a woman, once in a while, he doesn’t love her. That’s what mom used to say.�
�But you always said she was a brainwashed dolt, who should have stood up for herself.�
�What do you expect a smart girl who’s heading for her JD to say? I half believed it.
But as far as I can see now you want to be the man of the house and take up the fucking slack. I can’t tell you how hot your porn made me. I’m ready to be normal.�
I had just recently received a legacy that allowed me to retire from my consultant business. One day I shoved a pair of panties into my wife’s bitch mouth and the next day she put in notice that in one month she’d quit her lawyer’s job in order to stay home and SERVE me full-time.
�So there are now going to be changes in this house for you in demeanor, action and dress. EVERYTHING is going to be decided by me and My judgement is final.�
My wife was not a smart ass and didn’t have a quip or a smirk in response. Instead, she nodded her head and looked at Me with a look of RESPECT that took Me aback a bit.
That night she slept on the floor naked, under a sheet.
The next morning, a Saturday, she got up early, took a cold shower and shaved her disgusting hairy armpits, cunt and legs good and clean. She then served Me breakfast in bed, and knelt naked by the bedside until I was finished eating. Order in the household.
That early morning this bitch was completely silent. She was not allowed to answer her cell phone. It was pleasing to have quiet in the house. Yes. A woman should speak only when spoken to and then in the most pleasant ways. There was real training to do. But Marie was ready.
I went to my home office and retrieved a page of a document that I had honed over 14 years of D/s play outside of marriage. This page specified many things including precisely how I expect a woman to dress, accouter and do make-up. I handed it to Marie and said, �You’ve got some shopping to do today. You’re not coming into the door of this house again unless you are dressed and done-up as pleases Me.�
Marie nodded her assent. I was very pleased at her unexpected submissiveness and docility. Marie was not an unpleasant cunt, really, but she did have habits of discourse and demeanor that I found annoying and off-putting. With a good push, though, she brought forward other aspects of herself, the �latent� aspects, that were rather exciting to me. I regretted I hadn’t taken this course 5 or 8 years earlier.
I went to Marie’s dresser and took out underthings for her and went to her closet to get a blouse and a skirt that were at least marginally acceptable. In her closet was one pair of 3� high heeled pumps that I think she’d perhaps worn once for some affair. She’d wear these shopping today where she’d buy some real high heels.
Lastly, I pointed out on her dressing table neglected lipstick and eye make-up that she’d be wearing today. Her shopping trip would include several items not found in her possession now.
Marie worked in a casual law office where jeans and beat-up shoes (and no make-up) were the norm. Next fucking Monday that crew was going to see a new Marie.
Marie dressed, as I required, did her make-up and took a long look at her shopping list. I’ve had cunts complain about the 5� heels I require, thin-heeled, pointed toed pumps with high arches. �I’ll break my ankle,� they’d say. Or, �I can’t be seen in public in shoes like that.� Marie, to her credit, didn’t whine, here, though I know that she had never worn shoes like these in her entire life.
On my document were all my �presentation� requirements along with a list of stores that carried the items needed. Marie was not a shopper, but that day she spent a good 7 hours getting her wardrobe and personal items in order.
I spent the day corresponding with submissive women on the internet (who I would continue to meet and date), perusing BDSM pornography and reviewing materials from my previous D/s encounters with women. After a few hours and a drink or two I put on my �Master’s uniform� for the first time in my own household. I prefer polished, shiny black leather. I wore black leather pants, black leather, shined boots, a black shirt with a black leather vest over it. My belt was leather with short D/s style spikes. I had already selected Marie’s collar (which had �whore� written on it in silver metal letters) and leash, which I placed beside my computer. My Cock was rigid for a couple hours before I heard the doorbell ring at 5 pm.
I opened the front door to see the �new� Marie, a very pleasant and exciting sight.
The first thing I noticed were the heavy, glitzy, glittering earrings dangling from Marie’s ears nearly to her shoulders. All her life Marie had worn under-stated, stubby, hardly visible ear ornaments like a bitch. She was 43 years old. Now, at last, she dressed the part. She had made up her false eyelashes well, too, though they were as foreign to her as being a real woman. she had on a good layer of foundation highlighted by blush (again, for her, items from a foreign world) and had on the shiny dark red �Cock-suck lubricant� that My submissive bitches always wore. The perfume (a �no no� for Marie in the past) was thick and expensive. The expensive, elaborate diamond necklace that I had stored away for this occasion (or for the 24/7 slave I’d take on after our divorce) was around her neck. The shortish, very expensive black satin dress nicely contoured her waist which was cinched in well by a strict corselet of My selection. I could see her tit nipples standing out in the slots of the �nipple-less� bra I’d required for her. I was sure that she wore the black, frilly crotchless panties too that were My pleasure. I knew her black, seamed thigh-high hose was attached to the garters on the corselet.. On her feet were the 5� difficult, pristine, black leather high heels that helped so much to make the point.
When Marie knelt docilely inside the threshold to kneel and receive My hard Prick in her bitch face I felt her pretty red lips latch onto it like a leech and she gave Me a Cock-sucking I will always remember. It must have been five years since I’d bothered pushing her face down there to do service. (And I’ll admit that this was partly My Own fault. I had essentially bought into Marie’s �good girl� pose and just assumed that she would never do better at Cock-sucking than the dutiful gesture she had made it.) She sucked Me with passion and abandon; she was ready NOW to do the job right because there could be no doubt her role and place..
I called her �fuck-face� now, as I had her quietly model her new garments in front of me. I suppose I wanted to goad her and maybe piss her off. I’d decisively gotten the edge on her and reveled in it and I wanted to be damn sure she was under thumb.
But Marie didn’t flinch a bit at the name-calling and kept the compliant docile demeanor that she had fallen into, once I’d made my point. She knew I wanted a high heeled slave whore in my house who kept her cunt mouth shut, who fucked, sucked and served as and when told. In her journal, which she was required to write from that day, she wrote, �Yesterday I was Marie and today I am ‘fuck-face.’
A man has every right to talk like a MAN and it’s not any of a woman’s business how He should choose to express Himself.� I loved reading these words and love more that Marie herself had begun to put capitals on the masculine pronouns.
Once Marie had redone, somewhat shakily, her pretty lipstick, I took her by the arm, put a red ball-gag in her bitch mouth and sat her down at her desk to read a piece I had written some years before, expressing my views of the proper Man/cunt relationship and the proper household: Cunt Around the House. These are words written by Marie in her journal the next morning: �I’ve thought about this moment for several years now. Surely the outside observer would think it would be absurd that I should so quickly alter habits and ways ingrained for so long. But those people don’t know of the latent image deeply printed in a woman’s heart and being.
When I discovered Victor’s secrets, I myself was stunned at how horny they made me. I thought and fantasized for years about Victor finally bringing them in the open. It was agonizing knowing he was fucking and ‘training’ other women in the crude and MASTERFUL ways he outlined in his writings. But I am a woman and a pussy. I wasn’t going to complain about his infidelities, but look the other way. And, I definitely wasn’t going to start acting all submissive, unless he made me do it.
Deep down I felt he was being unfaithful because I wasn’t adequate and—I honestly felt, ‘That’s how men are.’ You see underneath my conformist, feminist bravado (not that in-your-face, really), I was a submissive cunt, waiting to be called upon.�
Later, lying beside me in bed bound in red satin rope, wearing new, pristine, red high heels, red hose and red corselet, a pretty red ball-gag in her bitch mouth, Marie joined me in watching her first full BDSM film entitled Man of the House. There was a vibrating dildo shoved in her cunt and clamps on her tit nipples which I twisted and moved sadistically, as I was inspired by various scenes. I did take the gag out, after I fucked her and loosened her bonds, but her beautiful garments remained in place as she slept on the floor by the bed at night, fully dressed. It took her several weeks before her service pleased Me enough to sleep in My bed with Me again. But this is a rare reward. My firm belief is that a Man gets more out of a woman if He makes clear her place on an ongoing basic. A bed and it’s comforts are for the Master. A bitch’s place is truly on the floor at night. (But whore dressed and fuck-ready, in case of a Master’s late-night casual urge.)
Of course, I had left her precise instructions for her for her first Sunday as a real woman. I was awakened by My whore with her pretty painted lips leeched to My Prick. Cock worship is the proper role for every woman and I received impassioned attention, stiffening Me quickly, as she licked and sucked as well as any paid professional. I refrained from dumping My load in her bitch face, because even with My good genes and ability to double fuck (two ejaculations within 2 hours) at the age of 50, I wanted to save My spilling for later in the day and evening, after more complete service.
I was greeted by Marie, fully and carefully made up, in black lingerie and the black 5�, traditional pumps that she would wear constantly henceforth (in black, red or occasional white colors). When I had had enough of her obeisant kissing and slobbering at My Prick and Balls, I shoved a ball-gag into her bitch face, put a nice pair of clamps on her tits to remind her of Who was boss and had her serve Me breakfast in bed, as was proper. she knelt quietly by the bed, in mild distress, tears forming in her eyes from the pain of the clamps on her tits. I was going to have a leisurely breakfast that was not going to be interrupted by some tear-stained bitch, but what did disturb Me was that her beautiful, elaborate, required eye-make-up was a running mess on her cheeks. I calmly told her that this would earn her sanction and punishment. This made the cunt cry a bit, but it was time for Marie to begin to understand what the rules were going to be in a proper household.
When I eventually finished My breakfast, I put the tray aside, removed the nasty tit clamps with weights on them and took out Marie’s ball gag with the strong admonition that I wasn’t interested in hearing a bitch word from her right now, that she’d be bidden to speak as and when it pleased Me and on topics and issues that I decided upon. I was pleased that Marie straightened herself up nicely, addressed Me as Sir and said, �Thank you for being clear with me.�
I told her then to get her face straightened up and presentable and to go in her office and type an essay entitled: �A Proper Household.� As I was very displeased at having to look at her fucked up make-up this morning, in partial punishment, I required her to type her essay without her hands, with a pen held between her teeth, one fucking letter at a time.
While My cunt wife was busy with her task, I got up, showered, shaved and dressed. Afterward I took some time to respond on My computer to an on-line slave, a married woman who was being treated much too kindly and gently by her husband.
It took My wife nearly two hours to painstakingly type her essay. Certainly, all of this was truly new to Marie and I did not have high expectations her bitch essay. I had planned, really, to have her redo this essay as many times as necessary until she got it right. But clearly My dear wife had been thinking about this issue deeply for a long time. This was how it began:
my sincere apologies for not putting capitals on the word sir and on words that refer to men in this essay. without use of hands i cannot make capital letters. of course, i understand and accept that i may be punished for this. you must know that i fully accept this as your male prerogative. a man has rights and a woman none. this is how it should be, sir, in a proper household�
#Proper #Household #Sex #Stories