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My Husband, My Slave

Date: 7/31/2017, Categories: Fiction, Consensual Sex, Cum Swallowing, Domination/submission, Female Domination, Oral Sex, Slavery, Torture, Author: senorlongo, Rating: 89.2, Source: sexstories.com

to. John phoned me at work the following Wednesday to tell me he had told Mr. Hardman where he could stick his job. I already knew that. Joseph had phoned me to ask if John was ill or having emotional problems. “Not that I know of, Joseph; why do you ask?” “Because he just came in and read me the riot act. I swear I never heard such profanity. I would have fired him if he didn’t quit on the spot.” “I’m truly sorry, Joseph. I don’t know what got into him. I do know that he has been feeling some stress lately, but that’s inexcusable. Thank you for your courtesy in phoning. I think I may leave early tonight to check up on him. I’ll be in touch.” “I hope so and congratulations on your promotion. We may be competitors, but I do wish you luck. Somehow, I doubt you’ll need it.” I thanked him again and sat back in my chair, a smug smile on my face until my secretary interrupted me. “Please call Philip and tell him I need to leave a little early tonight. I have a bit of a family emergency that I need to deal with.” I returned to my work, clearing a lot of paper from my desk before moving to the conference room for a meeting with several of my staff. I left half an hour early at 5:00 and was home thirty minutes later. John was there and he had been drinking again—this time in celebration. “I did it, Soph; I told that bastard off!” “Okay, but did you have to call him a ‘fucking fairy’ or tell him to ‘fuck himself?’ That was a trifle juvenile.” I continued when he gave me a look of ... surprise. “We may be competitors, but we do speak occasionally. He actually sounded worried about you.” “Yeah…right; he only cares about himself. I think I’ll take a week off and then I’ll look for another job. There are usually ads in the Sunday paper and I can check online, too. I’m not worried.” Neither was I; John was in for a surprise. He stayed home for the rest of the week and true to his word he did begin a job search the following Monday, cutting out almost a dozen ads from the newspaper. He was optimistic, but that didn’t last. Two weeks later he complained bitterly. “It’s just like that bastard to blackball me. One of the managers confided that he wanted to hire me, but couldn’t with such negative references.” “I’m sure your tirade had a lot to do with that. I told you it was a juvenile thing to do. You could have been critical, but civilized.” I would have continued to tell him that he had brought this on himself, but decided not to. John may have been excitable, but he wasn’t an idiot—he could figure that out for himself. “Please, dear won’t you give me a hand with dinner?” “Why can’t you do it?” “I can, but since you’ve been home all day doing nothing I thought you might be willing to help. Frankly, I’m tired and all I want is a cup of tea and some toast.” “Okay…what do you want me to do?” I set him at several tasks that he’d normally consider beneath him while I rustled up a salad and a steak. Afterwards, I asked for some help clearing and rinsing the dishes before ...