GEETWO STORIES - PAGE 079
- SEVEN YEAR BITCH -
ART BY: KC
For seven long years, Thomas Moreton had put up with his wife’s demands for designer clothes, designer shoes, constant re-modelling of their large home, expensive jewellery and luxury holidays abroad. He’d denied her nothing in his efforts to please her and satisfy her seemingly-insatiable appetite for spending his hard-earned wealth, asking only in return, that she return his love for her, provide him with companionship, and continue to share the pleasure they had both enjoyed prior to their marriage in dressing her in rubber and playing bondage games.
Before becoming his wife, Priscilla had been an avid devotee of such adventures, revelling in being encased in shiny, skin-tight rubber and then allowing him to tie her up before eagerly participating in hot, wild sex that had left them both drained and exhausted, but eager for more. Unfortunately, within two years of their wedding, her enthusiasm had waned to the point that rubberised, bondage sex became little more than a memory. When it happened she indulged him only after lengthy and often acrimonious whingeing and argument that effectively removed almost all the pleasure from her eventual and clearly reluctant agreement to allow him what she referred to as his ‘perverted, kinky little sex-games.’
Despite this unwelcome turn of events, Thomas still adored Priscilla and continued to give her everything she wanted in the hope that she would re-discover her former enthusiasms and once again become the spirited, happy, loving, outgoing play-partner he had wooed and married. Sadly, that never came to pass and, eventually, his patience and forbearance was exhausted and he could take no more
Loving her as he did, divorce was not an option he was prepared to consider. He knew that left him with only two choices: either he must accept the frustrating, unsatisfactory situation and give up his dreams of Priscilla ever again becoming his willingly-submissive bondage lover, or take steps to turn her into the obedient slave-wife he had always wanted her to be. Until after their marriage, she had seemed to want that as much as he did ... whether it was what she now wanted ... or even if it wasn’t ... something had to change.
With Priscilla believing that he had given up, it was easy for Thomas to secretly acquire the equipment he required, smuggle it into the basement, then prepare everything for the final step of his plan. It only remained for him to slip a strong sleeping-pill into her regular nightcap and wait for it to take effect.
When Priscilla awoke from a deep and dreamless sleep, it was to find herself in a situation she thought she had left behind forever ... she was in bondage again ... but bondage far more strict and severe than the soft ropes and padded cuffs Thomas had always used before to restrain her for their previous games.
Her arms were clamped rigidly behind her back in a leather single-glove so tightly laced that she could not even wiggle her fingers. Her legs were held widely spread by a thick steel bar connected to massive steel cuffs on her ankles while around her throat, an incredibly tall collar stretched her neck and was connected to a steel head-brace that forced her to maintain an extreme chin-up pose.
She was dressed in black rubber leggings with built-in ballet-boots that arched her feet into an en-pointe, and was made acutely aware that her buttocks, anus and sex were fully exposed beneath the ridiculously short red rubber micro-dress that stopped well short of covering her large, tautly-presented breasts. Only her eyes and mouth were free to move and when she saw her reflection in the full-length mirror opposite her tightly-trussed form, she squealed in anguish and gazed with horrified eyes at the adjustable poles which held her bent over and suspended several inches above the floor from a thick rope descending from the beams above.
She knew at once that she had fatally under-estimated Thomas’s desire for bondage sex and an ice-cold chill set her trembling wildly when she saw that her wrists were doubly-confined by a thick steel cuff as well as the single-glove.
During their early days together, he had often mentioned that although ropes and straps were all very well for short, fun sessions of bondage, there was nothing to equal the strength and security of steel for long-term restraint of a true slave. Even though she had known he was serious, that was much further than she wanted to go and had made light of the idea, telling him that although she enjoyed their bondage games, she had no intention of becoming anyone’s slave, not even his ... until now. When the implications of her steel-fettered limbs sank into her whirling brain, she was faced with the stunning realisation that there was to be no possibility of escape and that Thomas could keep her as his captive for as long as he pleased. She was his captive, his slave and his sexual plaything: her body humiliatingly exposed and utterly incapable of resisting whatever he cared to do to her.
The thought of being so helplessly offered brought an embarrassing and most definitely unwanted wetness to her sex and Priscilla groaned, realising that if Thomas was to notice it, all he had to do was walk up behind her and unzip his trousers in order to take advantage. Bent over the way he had secured her, he wouldn’t even need to adjust the height of her suspension, and if she tried to wriggle, her jutting breasts would make ideal handholds!
It had been a very long time since she had last allowed him to tie her up for sex and it was alarmingly obvious that he didn’t intend to wait any longer, or give her any further choice in the matter. Thomas could easily take whatever he wanted and while Priscilla was forced to accept that there was nothing she could do to stop him, she stared anxiously at the closed door of the basement, her brain feverishly trying to think of the best way to persuade him to release her after he had taken advantage. She knew it would be stupid to make demands beforehand, but when he was finished, if she pretended to have enjoyed it and told him that she had changed her mind and wanted more bondage-sex, he might just fall for the lie.
Even if he insisted on keeping her bound for a short while, she could cope with that if she had to, and as long as she could keep up the pretence of liking it, he was sure to weaken eventually and feel guilty enough about what he’d done, then let her go. When he did, she’d make his life a living Hell and teach the devious, sneaky rat never to mess with her again. He’d better damned well make the most of his strictly temporary power over her, because it would be absolutely, definitely the last time he’d ever see her in bondage, no matter how much he begged!
Unfortunately for Priscilla, seven years of marriage had given Thomas a crystal-clear insight into the workings of her mind and he was well aware that she would be furious at her plight and prepared to say anything that would get her out of it. Whatever promises she made in a bid to secure her release would be meaningless and if he was foolish enough to believe them and let her loose, he knew she wouldn’t honour a word. He was much better off and safer with Priscilla as she was, but it would be interesting and amusing to see how far she would go and what she would offer him in return for being freed, even if she didn’t mean a word of it.
When Thomas finally entered the basement, Priscilla choked back her fury at his smug expression and forced herself to greet him with a weak smile while he casually inspected her suspended body and asked her what she thought of his little surprise. She was sorely tempted to tell him, but mindful of her plan and not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how angry and humiliated she felt, kept a firm grip on her temper and answered ... quite truthfully ... that finding herself in bondage had come as a total shock. Of course, she’d been frightened at first, she said, but then had begun to remember just how much fun it was to be helpless and at his mercy.
It was a pity she’d been so silly and refused to play for so long, because they could have done this lots more, but now that he had reminded her how exciting it was, she’d love to make it a regular part of their life together again. He nodded, replying that he was very pleased that she had finally rediscovered her liking for bondage after so many years, but was she quite sure she didn’t mind being so securely restrained and defenceless? Priscilla hesitated momentarily over her answer, wondering if he was already regretting his actions and whether she should push him to release her straight away. Best not, she decided. Let him have his kinky sex first, then apply pressure when he was sated and happy. After all, the so-and-so wouldn’t be happy for very long after he untied her! Shaking her head, she assured him that she was perfectly OK and that as he had gone to so much trouble to put her in this situation, she wouldn’t dream of spoiling the fun for either of them by letting him free her.
With a grin, he thanked her, then jokingly suggested that her answer was probably just what a humble, obedient, well-trained slave would have said in her position. She didn’t much like his sense of humour, but made herself smile and nod that, yes, it probably was, quickly adding that she wasn’t a slave, of course. No, he agreed coolly, she wasn’t ... at least, not yet ...
Shaken, she gulped and licked her lips nervously, her voice quivering just a little as she asked him what did he mean ... ‘not yet?’
His grin faded and he reached down, squeezing her cheeks in his strong fingers and forcing her to meet his hard gaze when he told her flatly that he had no intention of releasing her for a ver, very long time and that if he ever did, it would only be after she had proved to his satisfaction that she had become his totally obedient and utterly submissive slave-wife.
Priscilla tried to scream and argue, but his fingers tightened their grip and she could only whimper in pained despair when he warned her that if she spoke without his permission from now on, she would be punished. As she would be if, when allowed to speak, she failed to address him as Master, or showed any sign of dissent. He continued to explain the new arrangement and stated that as his slave-wife, from now on she would obey him without question and provide whatever sexual services he required of her, instantly and fully, regardless of her own wishes or preferences. If she did not, she would most definitely regret it.
Priscilla stared up at him in wide-eyed horror, unable to believe that the husband she had ruled and cajoled and hen-pecked for so long, had suddenly turned the tables and become a ruthlessly dominant tyrant who meant to turn her into his helplessly-subjugated slave. She wouldn’t do it! She would never accept him as her Master, or allow herself to submit to the slavery he wanted to impose on her! He wasn’t cruel enough, or strong-willed enough to make her do anything she didn’t want to and all she had to do was hold out long enough to show him that he could never succeed in enslaving her ... until he continued speaking. He told her that as he had put up with her demands and disrespect for seven long years, that would be the length of her enforced servitude as his slave-wife.
Seven years of bondage and subjugation ... it stretched ahead of her like an eternity and she realised at once that it would be utterly impossible for her to resist for even one-tenth of the time she was condemned to endure as Thomas’s chained and defenceless captive. Her belly kicked violently to the stunning knowledge that she was doomed. After seven years, she knew she would have become a life-long slave, her obedience and submission to his absolute Mastery by then ingrained so deeply into her mind and body that she would be unable to be anything else.
With his fingers still gripping her jaw, Priscilla gazed up at him, too stunned, demoralised and frightened to protest, but when his lips curved into a mirthless smile and he began to unzip his trousers with his free hand, she gasped in alarm, instantly divining what he intended. She had only ever given him oral sex three times, early in their marriage and had never liked it. Clearly disappointed, Thomas had bowed to her strongly-expressed views on the subject and had never asked again. Now and as he freed his erect maleness, Priscilla understood that he wasn’t asking this time. Chained and utterly at his mercy, it would be only too easy for him to carry out his threat to punish her if she tried to refuse or defy his wishes.
The old Thomas would never have dared to punish her or force her to submit to his demands ... but this new Thomas ... this determined, steely-eyed, frightening Master ... was a totally different proposition. He would not hesitate to do whatever it took to enforce her obedience and she knew it. Priscilla did not want to be punished and when his fingers relaxed their hold on her jaw, she took a long, shuddering breath, trembling in fear when she obeyed his unspoken command and opened her mouth wide. He moved slowly forward and as his thick shaft pushed deep into her mouth, she heard him give a chuckle of cruel satisfaction when he savoured her moist warmth surrounding his hardening flesh.
At his brusque order to pleasure him, she crushed down her dislike of what she must do and began to lick and suck with what little skill and expertise she possessed; nostrils flaring when she was forced to breathe through her nose. It was far from easy and so she had to concentrate her whole attention on the task; her humiliation and sense of helpless subjugation increasing steadily while his shaft grew longer and harder until it filled her whole mouth and bulged her cheeks.
She knew he was going to climax and that when he did, she would have to swallow his hot, salty spend whether she liked it or not! Although her brain rebelled at the thought of having to serve him in such a shamefully-submissive way, she couldn’t help remembering that the bondage games she had played with Thomas hadn’t been all bad. The sex had been great and if it hadn’t been for her own concerns about losing all control over her responses and falling so totally under Thomas’s domination that she would be unable to refuse him anything he wanted, Priscilla knew that she would have carried on and let him have his way.
Instead, she had denied him the very thing that had brought them together and which she had known he wanted most to share with her, leading him to finally take the drastic action he had ... and her to the horrendous situation that she now confronted. Thomas was a careful, methodical man and would never have resorted to such extreme measures until he had considered all of his options and concluded that he had no other choice, but when he decided on a particular course, Priscilla had never known him change his mind.
If he had determined to make her his slave-wife, she knew he would do exactly that, no matter what. He wouldn’t free her, or negotiate, or allow her to set limits on her servitude and she would become precisely what he required her to become. When she was forced to accept her inescapable fate, Priscilla knew that no matter how long it took or how hard she fought not to give in, Thomas, her Master, would succeed in transforming her into the humble, submissive, obedient slave-wife he wanted ... permanently.