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Walking into my closet, I opened up the lingerie drawer, and there was my new baby-doll night gown. Made out of pale pink organza, it flowed over my curves nicely. I had just purchased it from Neiman Marcus and was glad that I had picked up the matching panties.
I checked my phone, no messages from Lewis. Oh well, he must be busy with his function so I crawled into bed and realized that after all, I was tired. I moved over to his side of the bed because his pillow smelled of him. Closing my eyes, I fell fast asleep.
Suddenly, I was stirred awake. The bathroom light was on in the distance. Lewis was standing at the foot of the bed. I was about to ask him how his night was, but before I could get the words out he said, “Abby, stay on your back and don’t move”.
He tore the covers off me.
I looked down and saw the flimsy ruffles skim over my breasts. I was suddenly chilled, and my nipples were poking through the fabric.
“You have on a pretty nightie. And how lovely, it’s rather short. Now spread your legs apart.”
I did so, slowly.
“Wider.”
I wasn’t sure if Lewis could see my pulsing pussy through the fine lace panties.
“Don’t you normally sleep without panties, Abby?”
I shrugged, “Usually Master, yes.”
Lewis’ voice became unyielding, “I never want you to sleep with panties on. Ever. I need to be able to access your pussy at all times. Even in the middle of the night, if I so chose.”
“Of course, I understand,” I whispered. “It won’t happen again.”
Without warning, he pulled my nightie up further. Lewis then placed his hand on my panties, gripped the material forcibly, and bore down on it aggressively with his strong fingers. He shoved his fingers through the torn fabric, effectively shredding my panties and forcing some of the material up into my vagina.
Say, “You own me, Sir.”
“You own me, Sir.”
He pulled his fingers back out, palmed my clit momentarily, then shoved them back up inside pushing through the torn material and forcing into me with such hostility it was almost painful. Next, he circled his palm and fingers, and the pain turned into something quite heavenly. It felt very good.
“Your moist pussy belongs to me. Your clit is responding, engorged, hoping to be satisfied. This nightie looks like it was new. Too bad, slut.”
Abruptly, he lowered his head, and pierced the fabric with his teeth biting down on the cloth just around the area of my nipples. I almost cried out in pain as another finger was added to the assault on my pussy. His free hand then grabbed the fabric, and he ripped it right down my middle. I was now lying in a very shredded nightie. I was opened wide. Of course, I dared not move.
All the while, Lewis was still wearing his black fitted pin-striped suit. It was an Armani, brand new, and the juxtaposition of our clothing made me feel even more vulnerable. Who doesn’t love a man in a good suit?
“I’m going to fuck you…but first, I seem to remember you misbehaved this morning.”
Obviously, he had not forgotten about my minor transgression. I had winked when he told me not to masturbate today. That might not seem like a big deal, but it was suggestive I might cheat. The truth is, he would have absolutely no way of knowing if I did, or didn’t. It starts to mess with that magical bond between a dominant and submissive, called trust. My early morning smug attitude was about to cost me dearly.
“Don’t move,” he said. In a flash, he was gone. I waited. I could hear my own breathing.
I barely had time to gather my thoughts, when he was back. Uh oh! In his hands were two vicious looking nipple clamps. They were the black heavy ones, with the tension screw, so the tightness could be adjusted. Something told me they were set tight. I was right. Lewis clasped one onto my left nipple, and the sensation was immediate. Pain! He tugged on it, to make sure it had a good firm grip. I bit my lip so hard; I thought I might have cut it. Luckily, I didn’t. The right nipple was no less painful. He snapped the clamp closed directly onto my protruding nipple, and I was in a world of agony instantly. My nipples were being crushed. These clamps were serious business.
Next, he attached a thin silver chain to each of the clamps. Oh fuck! This would make it easy for him to tug on the chain, thereby tugging on both of my nipples at the exact same time. I prayed he wasn’t intending to tear them off me in this manner.
“I have a new clamp today, Abby.” He was fucking with me. Messing with my mind. His tone of voice was pure evil.
He held it up for me to see. Where is that going to go??
“This is called an ali-clamp. You know why, little tramp?” It was a rhetorical question, and there was no need for me to answer.
“See, it’s shaped just like an alligator, with these sharp jagged teeth and a long snout. When a girl is as slutty as you are, with a pussy that is always wet and slick with whore-juice, only an ali-clamp can take hold of your clit without slipping off. Oh My God! He was going to fasten that wicked looking clamp right onto my clit!
Meanwhile, my nipples were now burning with pain!
He used his fingers to pull apart my labia. My engorged clitoris, looking like a shiny pink pebble, was an easy target. The clit hood piercing seemed to make my nub even more accessible, as he pushed on the ring with his thumb.
Plus, he swiped a piece of the shredded panty-material over the area to temporarily dry me. Then he opened up the jaws of the ali-clamp by squeezing down on it, and when he released it…those cruel and unforgiving teeth came clamping down directly onto my clit! I saw fucking stars! While my body adjusted to the pain, or tried to adjust, he attached another chain.
The two chains linked up. I was breathing as if I was delivering a baby. He stood beside the bed. Now, with one hand, he could pull up on the chain. When he did so, my nipples and clit felt like they were being torn off my body. One tug, three shots of pain.
“Did you cum today, Abby?”
“N…no…Mas...Master. I didn’t. I would never disobey.” My answer was the truth, of course.
“I believe you, little one. But you were cheeky this morning, weren’t you?”
“Yes…yes, Sir. I’m…I’m sorry.” The pain was unbelievable, and it took all my effort to remain composed.
“Who owns you, little cunt?”
“You do Master. Only you. You own me.”
He pulled up one more time on the chain, and this time, I was unable to suppress a scream. I almost screamed a second time when he pried open the ali-clamp in order to remove it. In this case, I think it was fear more than pain. Just feeling his fingers down there petrified me. He removed the clamp safely, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Unfortunately, I would not be extended the same leniency when it came to my nipples. The difference being, the clamps might hurt like hell, but no risk of damage.
“What will happen when I remove your nipple clamps, Abby?”
“They…they will hurt.” I knew from experience when the blood rushed back into my tender nips, a new pain would sweep over them. I hated it, and yet, a part of me loved it too.
He pulled. I cringed. It took all my resolve not to scream again. The blood rushed in, and with it, followed the agony. I willed myself through it and took a long deep breath. Meanwhile, Lewis had moved to the foot of the bed, and with his suit still on, was approaching my spread legs. This time his cock was out!
He had unzipped and pulled his throbbing penis out of the Armani. Thick and strong. Rock hard. Ready to spear me. Ready to penetrate me. Ready to pound me. I was nothing more than a hole in that moment. The clamps where gone. Here came paradise.
He pushed into me with a single thrust. That perfect cock of his. He slid it into my wet and waiting pussy, and heaven descended upon me. My still tender clit responded immediately. I had always been a girl who came rather quickly, but since getting the clit hood piercing, it seemed even easier to bring me off. I knew I’d be cumming in no time at all. Normally, I’m not required to ask for p
ermission to cum, but given the day’s instructions, I thought it prudent to ask.
“Permission to cum, Master?”
He whispered in my ear, “Yes, you may cum.”
I could hold back no longer. An intense orgasm overcame me. My legs trembled. My fingers stiffened. It was one of those orgasms that takes over my entire body. It felt amazing. When it subsided, I knew there was a second one just around the corner. I suspected Lewis knew too.
While he continued fucking me hard and rough, his hand twisted and pulled on my nipple. It was still tender from the clamp, and his touch made me wince. Then, his other hand moved to my throat. He so owned me. I would do anything for my husband, my Master, my owner. As my second orgasm approached, so did Lewis’. We came together, just as his hand squeezed on my throat, not preventing my air supply, but restricting it. He choke-fucked me through my climax, while he spurted copious amounts of cum deep into his property.
We caught our breath, while he lay on top of me, suit and all. Then he pulled away and slumped over onto his back. I wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.
“May I pretend we’re at the Four Seasons, Master?”
Lewis didn’t quite know my meaning, as evidenced by the furrowing of that same brow. I decided to ask the question another way.
“May I do my duties as clean-up maid?”
This time he understood. He lay back, and I moved around the bed until I was in a good position between his legs. First, I pulled off his pants and underwear. Then, I started with his balls, and working up the shaft, I tasted a mixture of our juices. He softened while I completed my undertaking. Before I was finished, I noticed a change in his breathing.
My Master was fast asleep, naked from the waist down, but with his shirt and jacket still on.
CHAPTER 22: BACK IN BLACK
Our one year anniversary…
No relationship is perfect. Except ours. Lewis and I seem to be compatible on every level. We have a perfect marriage.
We travelled a fair amount during our first year of marriage, with marvelous vacations in places such as Thailand and Namibia. A spontaneous trip for us might involve jumping on a plane and hitting a resort in Bermuda for a long weekend, or driving up to Cape Cod, or zooming up to Montreal Canada for dinner.
Life was good. Lewis’ career had its rocky periods, but he never brought the stress into our home. For my part, I returned to work and got a decent enough job at a Public Relations firm. We didn’t need the extra money, but it kept me busy and intellectually vibrant. Busy is better than lazy.
