A Good Wife, Part One (Erotica)
“You’ll have everything done by the time I get home, won’t you, darling?”
He was cupping her chin as he said this, a smile on his face. It was a smile you would mistake for a kind one, were you to just peek in the window and see him standing there, smiling at his wife Lia. But the drapes were drawn, and his wife knew better. After all, she was wearing nipple clamps and a ball-gag, and her cunt and ass were each filled up with silicone – a sizable butt plug sat in her ass, and an equally sizable dildo was stuffed into her pussy, both held in place by some tight, leather panties with suspenders that dug into her shoulders. She had been right by her husband’s side when each item was picked out and then paid for, but Lia certainly hadn’t been allowed a single bit of say in which things would go home with them, on which things would be used on her by her husband. Not on that shopping trip, at least. Yes, she got to pick out the sheets, the dishes, which detergent would clean their clothes, and even her husband’s ties. After all, she knew the best choices for each one of those items, knew what to choose better than her husband, Van, ever could have. But it was he who picked out the sex toys, the implements of torture (or of pleasure) to be used on his wife, because they agreed that those were contained within his area of expertise. And Lia liked it this way – she wanted it this way. It was what she’d always dreamed of. Not a white wedding, although she’d worn a gorgeous dress and now wore an equally lovely ring. No, what she’d always wanted was this… to have a man, one whom she loved and trusted above all others, do incredibly devious and dirty things to her flesh and mind… to control her body. This was her dream come true.
And now Van was going out for a few hours, leaving Lia alone, but not bored. No, she had a lengthy list of things to do while he was gone – dishes were dirty, sheets needed to be changed and washed, and the living room was in rather desperate need of a thorough dusting. And these things would all be taken care of in the hours he would be gone, or she wouldn’t be treated to a fucking when he got home. This was how their life together had been for the fifteen years they’d been married, and they were still together, still happy, and still incredibly turned on by each other.
“Well, I’m off now, so I’ll see you in a few hours. Make sure you get everything checked off, or it’s the crop. I know you don’t want it used on you, do you, Lia?”
She couldn’t speak, not through the gag, so instead she responded with a grunt – that was the closest she could get to saying the word “no.” She hated the crop, and he knew this, but sometimes, well, sometimes it was deemed necessary, and she knew this as well as he did. She accepted it, too, and gladly – perhaps even gratefully.
Once Van had taken off, she got to work. First, the dishes were scrubbed and rinsed, then dried, as she tried not to drool all over them, the gag making swallowing practically impossible. The brush she needed to use for the especially hard-to-clean dishes reminded her of the times he’d used one just like it on her body. First, he he’d been gentle, running the brush over her bare flesh with the lightest of touches, although even those came with a little pain. Then more pressure, as he dragged it across her skin, all along telling her what a dirty girl she was, and how he needed to scrub all the filthiness out of her until she could be a good girl instead.
Next, the bed was stripped of its sheets, and she felt herself getting wetter and wetter from the dildo inside her pussy, each movement she made moving it a little, making it fuck her a little, bringing small sounds of pleasure from her forced-open mouth. With each movement, the butt plug moved a little too, and that certainly didn’t make her any less wet – no, Lia loved having things in her ass. Her favorite item to have in it would always be her husband’s dick, because of what he could do to her as he fucked her with it, and because flesh and blood was always more thrilling than a lowly dildo or plug shoved inside of her tightest hole. And if she was lucky, Van’s arrival back home would be followed by the insertion of said dick into her ass, replacing the plug which sat inside it at the moment.
She found herself thinking back to the last time he’d fucked her ass, thinking about the sensation of her husband shoved up against her, shoved deep inside her, sliding in and out of her slicked-up asshole. Her pussy had been so wet then that she had been pleading for it to be fucked by the time her husband came. So he had handed her a large dildo – not their biggest, but not their smallest, either – and ordered her to fuck herself with it until she came, his cruel words and taunts turning her on so much that she got off incredibly fast, an immense orgasm building inside her and then flowing out, her clitoris practically burning with pleasure.
As she loaded the sheets into the washing machine, Lia realized she was now pretty much desperate to get off. But that wasn’t allowed – her husband hadn’t given her permission to even masturbate while he was gone, so she obviously couldn’t have an orgasm. Yes, the tempting thoughts of her vibrator shoved up against her clit would have to remain just thoughts. And those thoughts led her to wonder about when her husband would finally get home, because she knew that when her husband returned to her, and led her into his room of choice, getting off couldn’t be too far off. It was always her treat after he came – or sometimes while he came. She could have as many orgasms as she wanted, then, and she always wanted as many as she could handle having, coming until her body was weak and her mind was flooded with pleasure and sensual delight.
But Van would be home soon, so after a serious dusting of the living room, during which all she could think of was her husband’s cock, she went into their bedroom and knelt, waiting for his imminent arrival… [to be continued]