1. 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

    experienced a delicious orgasm that shook my entire body. John’s tongue was probably his strongest muscle. I exercised it almost daily. John cleaned up after dinner while I showered then I allowed him to fuck me, although I’d probably be more accurate if I said that I fucked him. I always took the top where I could control the action and pace and where I could move easily to his head for our post-coital cleaning. I had noticed a gradual reduction in our home’s cleanliness over the next few weeks and I had whipped him several times without any noticeable improvement. Then one day I learned the reason why. I was in my office taking a brief break for lunch when I decided to check our MasterCard account online. To my surprise there were two ATM cash advances I hadn’t made. Each was for $300 and plus a fee of five dollars. When I phoned the bank I learned they were for transactions on a private ATM. There was no answer when I tried to phone the merchant for information. I found that odd. I tried again when I had some spare time around three that afternoon. The phone rang five times before it was answered. “Pink Pussycat.” “This is Main Street Bank…credit card security,” I lied. “I’m checking on some activity on one of our accounts. Do you have an ATM in your establishment?” “Yeah, we do.” “Do you recall a customer by the name of John Masters and would you know if he used your ATM?” “Sure, I know John. He’s one of our regulars. Let me just check his tab.” He continued a few ...
    minutes later. “Yeah, he made two payments...one last Thursday for $300 and another yesterday for the same amount. He still owes quite a bit so he’ll probably use the ATM again.” “Thank you for your assistance. We just wanted to verify that he had actually made the transactions.” I hung up the phone. I was livid. John was hanging out at our local strip club, a place that was well-known for both prostitution and drug activity. I phoned my boss, telling him I needed to leave for the day. Thirty minutes later I parked my car in the garage. John was surprised to see me. “Where’s your wallet, John?” “On my dresser—why?” “You’ll see; please get me a glass of wine.” I returned to the couch with the wallet in my pocket and the shredder from our office in my hands. I placed it in front of the couch and plugged it into the wall outlet. Draining the wine in a single gulp I told John to sit on the floor in front of me. “Why can’t I sit on the couch?” “Just do as you’re told for a change.” I pulled a sheet of paper from my purse once he was in place, handing it to John. “Mind explaining these two highlighted transactions?” “I needed money, that’s all.” “You needed $600 in less than a week’s time? Why?” “I just needed it. I don’t have to explain. It’s my money, too you know.” “Is it? I guess I’m supposed to work my tail off so you can spend hours at the Pink Pussycat running up a big tab getting lap dances and buying drunken degenerates overpriced drinks. Don’t I give you enough sex?” He had no ...
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