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I Want You

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Big Tits

Blindfolded, I inhale the scent of clean soap on the big hand that cups my face before it gently strokes one of my curly pony tails, like petting a lush puppy’s ear to tell it goodnight.

Elvis Costello’s “I Want You” played while you ate your dinner tonight and I ate scraps from your fingertips, kneeling blindly beside your chair. And now, the song plays in my head as the bed springs creak under your weight.

The house is cold at night and the dog basket is new and uncomfortable, preventing me from stretching out. Worse still, I miss your warm body.

I miss the privilege of cuddling against your back with my face nestled between your shoulder blades. I miss knowing that, sleeping in your arms, the Boogeyman can’t get me.

The blindfold robs me of even the moonlight that I know filters through the curtains and lets me watch your sleeping profile once my eyes adjust to the dark.

I crawl from my dog basket, pacing like a restless bitch puppy, bumping into things accidentally as I try to ignore my full bladder.

Your hand dangles over the edge of the bed and I find it, even blindfolded, and nuzzle gently just to feel your warmth while I listen to your even breathing.

I adore you.

It’s too cold in this house to be naked with no blanket and so I shiver. I try my dog basket again but it’s awkward and, besides, I’ve needed to pee for hours.

I crawl toward the bathroom again, following levent escort the wall for direction, as I have half a dozen times tonight only to achieve the same result. My leash ends so close that I can just barely touch the bathroom door.

I knew, before you went to bed, that you’d shortened the leash — not because you told me so, but because of the puppy door you’d installed in the bedroom, leading out to the back yard.

I would have asked you about it if I were allowed to speak human language, but instead I could only watch in animal silence.

I whimper softly, nuzzling your hand again, wanting you to save me, or at least to wake up and tell me with no ambiguity, that I have to go pee outside like a dog.

What if I’m supposed to wake you for the toilet and I peed in the backyard instead? I’d be so humiliated. I know you’d tease me. You might say, “Why didn’t you wake me for your needs? You must love peeing in the yard, you sick little bitch. You’ll do that from now on.”

I need you to own this, I need you to tell me that’s where I have to go, so you don’t think I want it, too.

But I want you.
I ache for you.

You stir in your sleep, your breathing changing with the sound of you rolling over. I kiss your palm sweetly and your hand gently cups my face, so I know you are awake, but I dare not speak; I know better.

I whimper my need mecidiyeköy escort insistently, until your hand stops cupping and your fingers dig in, hurting me. I yelp with pain, cringing when the bed creaks as you sit up and then stand. I know, now, waking you was a big mistake.

“Bad bitch,” you grumble, your voice thick with sleep. You drag me by the leash, across the room, and outside.

I start to sob silently but can’t even tell you with human words that I’m so sorry. I know I fucked up again.

I love you.
I am sorry again.

The grass is dew dampened and cold under my hands and knees, the kind of wetness that I know is staining me green. My teeth chatter as much from the cool night as from fear of you. “Go potty, bitch,” you command.

I’ve had to go for hours and yet now I can’t do it. You jerk on my leash and I stumble on all fours, crying harder now, head tilted back to orient myself toward the last place I heard your voice, searching for you even though I cannot see.

I want to whisper, “Please…” I want to beg forgiveness, negotiate, make it up to you. I start to whimper pathetically only to feel a genuine dog bone shoved into my mouth to silence me.

It tastes awful and my heart breaks, knowing you would not kiss me now even if men kissed bitches. Not with a crumbly foul dog bone in my mouth.

You hiss at me, “Shut up and piss, bitch. You fucking got me up kağıthane escort for this, you must want me to watch.” Crying, not like a bitch, but like a baby, I pee in the grass, my legs spread wide to keep it from running down my thighs. Even blindfolded, I have to lower my head to hide my face, so deep is my shame. Why must I be such a bad, bad, bitch?

I love you.
I’m your sorry bitch.

This is the part where you usually comfort me, but tonight you’re tired and I’ve woken you and you’re really pissed off. I am a puppy because I was a bad girl and now I’m a bad puppy.

I yelp again as you drag me deeper into the yard, and shove me forward. “Get in there,” you say and my heart breaks again at the continued displeasure in your voice.

I crawl, clumsy with the blindfold and I find myself on straw as I hear your footsteps retreating, leaving me alone in the doghouse.

I love you.
I need you.
I’m sorry.

I hear the door open, then close, and I cry, wanting to howl at the moon and share my pain with all the other bad bitches of the neighbourhood who are also left alone tonight in their doghouses.

The crickets are boisterous and I hope there are no spiders. They scare me and you aren’t here.

Maybe tomorrow, I can do better and I’ll be allowed back inside with you. Maybe, if I try really hard, by the end of the week I’ll be allowed to walk or even talk again.

Maybe, if I obey like a good bitch, you’ll let me be your proper little fuck and I’ll be gifted with all of the human privileges you’ve taken away.

I understand now. I can see now that all I have is by your grace.

I love you.
I want you.
I’ll be better.
I’ll do anything.

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Denial Ch. 05

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The next day, Sunday, my nipples were so sore, I couldn’t wear a shirt. In the middle of the afternoon, Maxine, who had been sunning herself in the backyard, came into my den office wearing a new skimpy black bikini. She struck a fashion model pose, and looked as beautiful as I had ever seen her look. “Hey sailor, you like?” She winked, waited for my reaction, and then slunk to where I was sitting, straddled my lap and opened a jar of cold cream she had brought with her. She lovingly massaged it into my nipples to soothe them. “Tonight is your turn with the questions, honey.”

I don’t know if Maxine was being tender because she was afraid that I would be rough on her in my own questioning tonight. I had never hurt my wife, and I didn’t know how we would react.

That evening, my own ignorance and naiveté were manifested when Maxine lovingly led me into the bedroom, where I saw ropes leading from the four posters of our bed, and riding crop on my night table. I looked at Maxine, who had changed into a thin, red summer dress, expecting her to strip and spread eagle so I could tie her to the bed, but instead, she gently guided me down on my stomach, and began to tie me.

“I thought it was my turn,” I said.

“It is.” When she had me secured, she sat back on the bed where my head would be positioned right at her pussy. She then hiked her dress up, and inched down, so I was in perfect position to eat her without even moving. Maxine wore no panties, and when she was satisfied with the position, she just covered my head with her skirt. “Ok. You ask the questions tonight.” I then heard Maxine reach over and take the riding crop from my nighttable. Everything under her skirt was bathed in a deep erotic red as the light filtered in through the fabric.

With one hand, she moved my head and mouth to her sex, guiding both direction and pressure. “Well,” she finally asked. “What are your questions? The exercise says you have to ask them.” Her hand played with my hair through her cotton dress.

I panicked. What questions could I ask her that wouldn’t anger her? She continued to caress my hair.

“What’s Richie’s health club like. Do you think I should join.” I asked, knowing this was a safe question.

“No. There aren’t that many athletic facilities. You wouldn’t enjoy it.”

“What’s the place like?” I inquired.

“Well, it’s really what’s called a relaxation center.”

I was beginning to get suspicious. Maxine guided my mouth lower and deeper into her pussy, ony letting up when she wanted me to ask her a question.

“What’s your new job going to be like?”

“Managing the women relaxation therapists. Richie says they need a strong manager.”

She continued to stroke my head and back, and I was getting angry.

“What is a relaxation therapist?” I asked.

“Well. . .” Maxine paused, and placed my head higher so my mouth was on her clit. “Men come and want to spend time relaxing with a woman in a sauna, or get a massage, or just relax and fulfill a fantasy, and our women accomodate them sexually. It’s all done very dignified, and non-threatening. Anything the girls do to earn tips is on their own time.”

“In other words, it’s a massage parlor.”

Like unexpected ice water, five blows hit my buttocks. I yelped with each one. “I KNEW you’d assume that! I just knew it. I’m a wife, mother, and school teacher. Do you think I’d work as a hooker in a massage parlor?” She sounded genuinely insulted.

As I tried regrouping from the pain, Maxine pushed my mouth harder onto her sex, and was gripping my hair tightly as she used my mouth as a dildo. “Your questions stink! This is a FUCKING exercise. You’re supposed to ask meaningful questions, not make small talk. I asked you about 10 questions last night. Meaningful ones. I think you should ask me 10 as well.”

“Yes.” was the answer that came out, but the truth is I was petrified to ask any questions.

Maxine lifted her legs a bit to arch against my mouth. She was getting hotter, and she ground her pussy harder into my face. “Get going with your questions,” she snapped.

The first one that came to my mind was, “Do you enjoy our sexual relationship the way it is now?”

Maxine seemed to give it a lot of thought. “I’m very frustrated about your impotence. Just when my desire is increasing, your manhood is decreasing. I’m not saying that to hurt you. But now, I understand what you went through with me for all of these years with my desire not being there. But at least you had your masochism as an outlet. Now, I have none.”

“If your desire is so strong, why don’t we throw the cock cage away, so I could try to satisfy you, and get us back to a good normal relationship?” As I was asking the question, Maxine gently stroked my head.

“You know what happens when you pressure me about that.” She said ominously. I imagined another four months locked up in the cock cage.

“But I’m only asking as a question. I’m not pressuring. I promise. Why can’t we just try.” I asked.

Maxine was Kurtköy Yabancı Escort silent for a moment. “First of all, you’re whining, and I hate that. Secondly, you’re being kept locked up because I need to re-learn sexual response in a non- pressure environment. If I’ve made any sexual improvement, it’s really because I’ve been allowed to grow without constraints. The cock cage has helped that.”

“What if we can’t straighten it out?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I love you very much, and we’ll just have to find a way where I can get what I need. Let’s let therapy and nature take its course. I do know that I won’t repeat your mistake. I won’t do without having what I want sexually. I just hope you can provide it.”

The discussion was progressing very well, and I decided to test my luck in order to move toward the end of the questions.

“Will I ever be released from it for good?”

“That depends on my growth, our therapy, but most important, how much you love me and are willing to compromise and adjust for our relationship.” She eased up on my head.

“Does having me at your mercy like this excite you sexually?” I asked.

I heard Maxine put down the crop, and grab hold of my head with two hands. “Excite may be the wrong word. I feel secure.”

Maxine again started grinding her vulva into my mouth. “You know what to do.” I started to tongue my wife to orgasm. She came two or three times, before she let go of my head, and lay back in the bed. Maxine just lay there for several minutes, asleep I thought, until she pulled her skirt back, and I again saw the room. Her face was flushed, and she was perspiring.

She got up, but instead of untying me, she left the bedroom, and returned with a whisky for herself. She sat down on the bed and lit a cigarette. She sat smoking, looking at me. She was a bright-eyed, 35-year-old who had the cheery good looks of a HS cheerleader, but the contrast between that image, and her new alter ego was startling.

Maxine put her cigarette in the corner of her mouth, and picked up the riding crop. I braced myself for more pain, but instead she just began to slowly trace the implement up and down my body. “Dr. Gruen said I shouldn’t hold back my anger with you, but to firmly express it.” She then quickly raised the crop, and I flinched. She then just lowered it slowly, smiling at my fear. “But I feel good right now, so you really are very lucky.”

Maxine slowly brought the riding crop up to my face, then to my lips, held it there and just stared at me. I didn’t know why she was staring, but she nudged the crop against my lips again. And then again until I got the message. She wanted me to kiss the tip of the riding crop. I did, and she smiled. She leaned back and finished her cigarette.

In a few minutes, Maxine untied my hands and feet, and gave me a hug. She got undressed, we got into bed and had a good sleep. I wondered in fear what tomorrow’s exercise would be.

The next day, Monday, went along smoothly with Maxine doing some clothing shopping for the new job she would be starting next weekend at Richie’s “relaxation center.” She came home, and asked me to get the packages from the car. She had bought hundreds of dollars in clothing, and I flipped when she modeled them for me.

With her mid-America looks and values, Maxine had always dressed conservatively. But these were another case. Filmy blouses and short skirts. Skin tight jump suits which zippered all the way through the crotch. Leather outfits. Loungewear. Shoes and boots of every height and description. Maxine knew that these were a turn-on to me and apologized.

Over dinner, Maxine and I spoke about our progress so far. “Dr Gruen said that each exercise has a separate purpose. The questioning exercises were to establish “Mutual Honesty.” Tonight there are two exercises “Devotion” and “Trust.”

I asked her for more details, but she said I’d have to wait. After dinner, she asked me to soak the dishes, and come upstairs with her. “You can finish them later.”

As soon as she got into the bedroom, she started to get undressed. “Tonight, the exercise calls for you to show me utmost Devotion. I’m to be pampered and prepared to be my loveliest. And everything is to be done by you. Tomorrow night is your turn.”

Maxine was now totally undressed, and lied down on the bed. “Draw me a bath. Get some fresh towels, and bring my bath powder into the bathroom. When you’re done, come back.”

I did what she ordered, starting with running the water in the tub to the temperature that 11 years of marriage had told me she liked. I came back into the bedroom, and she had not moved. “Your water’s ready,” I announced.

“Good.” she replied, “Come in and attend me.”

I spent the next half-hour soaping and shampooing Maxine in the warm tub. This intense touching left me very frustrated, but even after the bath, the torture wasn’t over. I had to blow dry her hair, while she sat naked at her vanity. She was silent, as if I were her servent, only Kurtköy Yeni Escort rarely stopping to correct me. When her hair was finished, I had to do Maxine’s nails. She walked me through the whole process or trimming and shaping them, and then applying two coats of polish. While they were drying, I lit a cigarette for her, and I moved on to her toenails for the same process.

Next came Maxine’s makeup. In about an hour, she taught me the intracacies of eyeliner, eye shadow, blush, and mascara. She corrected me often, demanding that I start a certain task over until I got it right. When I was done, after much correction, Maxine looked like a Vogue model.

She wanted me to perfume her all over, and then add rouge to her nipples and labia. This hightened her color, which was stark against her light skin.

She then stood up and had me dust her body all over with expensive dusting powder. When she was all scented, she told me what clothing to get out of her closet.

“What about underwear?” I asked.

“Look on top of my dresser.” There was a pair of dark pantyhose in an expensive box. I put them on her, and discovered that they were crotchless. “Anything else,” I asked.

“If I wanted other underwear, I’d have asked for it.” was her sarcastic reply.

For clothing, she selected one of her new outfits, and as I got it out of the closet and put it on her, it put a strain into my cock cage. It was a dress made from the thinnest red leather. It was a wraparound, and tied tightly at the waist. If the tie was loosened, the dress would fall open like a bathrobe, leaving her totally exposed.

“Almost done,” Maxine exclaimed. “Now my shoes.”

She had me go into her closet, and get a pair of very high heeled black shoes. She put them on, and then looked them over closely. “There are a few dirty spots. Please clean them, honey.”

I reached for a tissue on her dresser, and she gently pushed my hand away. “With your mouth, sweetheart.” I got on the floor and began licking and sucking away the dirt.

All of this time, I thought she was getting dressed for me. For us. But she put those thoughts to rest when she pointed to her nighttable, where there was a black purse. She signaled for me to bring it to her.

I handed her the black leather purse, and she opened it. “Get me my cigarettes.” I went to the dressing table got them, and saw her going into her night table drawer and put the KY-Jelly into her purse.

“Where are you going that you need KY Jelly?” I fumed, but she just looked at me with no expression. It was 10:30 pm now. She started for the stairs, and waited for me to open the front door.

She started out the door without saying a word.

“Where are you going.” I asked.

She turned from outside the door. “This is tonight’s second exercise. It’s called Trust.” And with that, she started down the steps toward the car, her high heels clicking loudly as she went. She got into the car, and drove it into the night.

I had waited up until 5:00 am, and out of depression, finally fell asleep. At about 10 a.m., I heard the door, and Maxine entered. She looked flushed and tired, but strangely refreshed. She didn’t say a word as she breezed in, and came over to give me a deep kiss. She smelled of smoke, and her breath tasted of alcohol. She didn’t say a word, as she stepped away and headed upstairs.

She came down about a half-hour later in a simple short set, looking like herself again. She poured a cup of coffee, and came and sat next to me.

“When is your next client meeting?” she asked. “In two or three weeks.” I replied.

She nodded in approval. “Great. I have to go shopping, but first let me measure you. You get pampered tonight.”

All day long, I couldn’t wait for that evening. After dinner, Maxine told me that tonight’s exercise was called Empathy. She told me to take a bath and get REAL clean.

As I was bathing, Maxine was in our bedroom preparing, and when she entered the bedroom, she hadn’t changed her clothing. She told me to finish in the tub, and dry off.

When I was dry, she began applying shaving cream to all of the hairy parts of my body. She then took a razor and began shaving them off, stepping back and doing some spots twice. Only the hair on my head and eyebrows remained. When I thought she was done, she told me to bend over, and she began lathering and shaving the hair in my ass crack. When she finished, she began applying lotion all over my body until it was soft. She looked at me with a satisfied look, and took my hand.

She led me over to the vanity, and sat me in her chair. For a strange reason, I saw all of her cosmetics laid out. Over the next half hour, my wife transformed my male face into a female one. Just as I did to her last night, she was doing to me. I had mascara, blush, eyeliner, lipstick and lipliner, even false eyelashes. She topped my head with a curly dark brown wig. She selected some clip-on earrings out of her jewelry box, and clipped them on me. “It’s a shame Kurtköy Masaj Salonu your ears aren’t pierced.” She chuckled.

She then got behind me, put her arms around me and looked in the mirror with me. “Now you know what it’s like. You can empathize with the work women put in to make themselves desirable to men.”

Maxine then went to her closet, and took out a bag. In it was a tight girdle which she put on me and which left all but my asscheeks tightly restricted. A pair of nylons and a garter belt went on next. The next item was a brasierre with built in foam falsies.

She then opened my closet, and took out an identical dress to the one she wore last night. It was my size, she said, and she held it out for me to put on. I did, she adjusted it, and tied the leather sash, tightening it. From under the bed, Maxine then produced a pair of large black spike heels like the pair she had worn last night. She held my hand as I stepped into them. “Walk back and forth, you’ll need the practice.

I moved back and forth, and Maxine lit a cigarette, and sat on the bed. “Goodness, do you ever look like a woman!” She exclaimed. “Go take a look.”

I stepped to our large dressing mirror, and was shocked. I did look like a woman. I turned around to face Maxine, who was sitting up in the bed, still in her shorts. She just stared and smiled.

With that, Maxine unbuttoned her shorts, and began taking them off. I was shocked to see that she had strapped a large dildo around her hips, and now stood up and stroked it as if it were a real, live penis. “Crawl over here cunt,” she said to me. “I’m gonna give you a sex lesson you’ll never forget.”

I got on my knees and began crawling to her. She stood with her hands on her hips, sneering down at me until I got close enough. “Now beg for it.” She began wagging her hips, waving it in front of my face. “Start begging, cunt, or I give you some pain.”

I looked up at her, and she looked genuinely cruel. Her eyes looked empty.

“Don’t you want to learn how to suck cock?” she asked. “Like a real woman? Like men make women do. Well, you beg for it.”

“May I suck your penis?”

“Beg me to teach you, pussy.”


“First, take my fat head between your lips, and suck it back and forth. . . . That’s it, now use your hands. . . Good. . . Now lick up the sides . . . Get an expression like you love it. That’s what all men want . . . Tell me what a big gorgeous dick I have, and how you want to suck it.”

I told her.

She began forcing the dildo deeper, closer to my throat. “Take it deep, bitch.” She began pistoning the prick into my mouth. “You need plenty of learning, cunt. But you’ll get it before I finally turn you out on the streets.”

As we went on, she kept trying to force me to take it down the throat, but I couldn’t. She grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me off of her dildo. She slapped me sharply in the face. “You’re a worthless bitch, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“How about getting fucked? Are you any good at that. I bet you want that too, you whore.”

Maxine then ordered me up on the bed on my hands and knees. She drew my dress over my ass, exposing it. I was afraid that she wouldn’t be gentle, and I was shaking. I heard her open and squeeze out a handful of KY. First she greased the shaft of the large dildo, and then she quickly pushed two fingers into my anus. “That’s how an insensitive man does it, by the way.” She was hurting me, but it was nothing compared to what came next.

She finished working the jelly into my anus and brought her filthy fingers to my mouth. I refused to open. “Do you want the clamps, slut?” Maxine then pushed her hand onto my mouth and forced her fingers in. Her voice suddenly softened. “That’s better, honey. Don’t fight it. This is what you want.” And she sensuously moved her fingers around inside my mouth.

There was a pause as Maxine gently pulled me back toward the edge of the bed where she was poised. “Now you’ll know what it’s really like,” she said, and an instant later, POW. She pulled my hips back, and thrust hers forward at the same instant. In a matter of seconds, the thick dildo was more than halfway into my ass. I screamed, but she just continued to push. I tried scurrying away, but she grabbed my hips and leather dress, and kept pulling me back, more deeply impaling me on the long, thick dildo. “Feel good? Tell me how much you love it!” She had me skewered, and was pumping away like any man fucking a woman.

I just began crying. “I beg you, please stop. Please.”

She ignored the cries, but finally, she did stop. My breathing didn’t even get a chance to return to normal when she said “Change positions,” and she sat up on the edge of the bed, and motioned me to straddle her, facing me. “Show me how much you enjoy it, or I’ll get the clamps.”

I gingerly spread my legs and squatted over her dildo. She and I were looking squarely at each other, as I was on my knees to absorb my weight. “Slower.” She said, “Open up. I want to put it deeper,” and I slowed up on the strokes, and allowed her to push deeper. She stopped for a moment, got a grip on my hips, and began to pull me down farther onto the dildo. Maxine looked down at the phallus violating my asshole. She smiled with satisfaction. “Now you’re all the way in.”

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