Bondage of Love - Wife submits to her husband as his Slave

Bondage of Love -Andrew tapped the steering wheel as he waited impatiently for the traffic he was trapped in to move sluggishly forward. He was frustrated. In more than one way, to be honest. His thoughts dwelt fleetingly on a possible happy ending that might be in store for him at home to remedy the dreary day, but wistfully he reined back his imaginations—he and his wife Elizabeth, (Bethy), had been bickering a lot lately, and the strained atmosphere hadn’t exactly been conducive to, well, happy endings.

His stomach grumbled and his mood sank even more as he thought of the boring sandwich he’d probably have to make for himself when he got home—apparently bickering didn’t lend itself to cooking either. He decided to stop at a fast food outlet and grab something tasty in the hopes that the mood might improve at home. With the hot curry and rice on the passenger seat he drove the last few kilometers home.

The moment he stepped in the door he felt a change in the air. It was dusk and the house was unlit, the familiar peaceful shapes of lounge furniture, grey in the darkening room, greeted him in silence.

‘Beth?’ he called, not loudly, a touch of concern in his voice.

It wasn’t like her to let the house stay dark in the evenings. He set the boxes of hot food on the coffee table and headed towards the kitchen where she could usually be found. ‘Beth?’ he repeated, louder. There was no answer, and then a moment later, a soft moan. He hurried to the kitchen door and was completely unprepared for the sight that met his eyes. He froze. The kitchen light hadn’t been switched on either, yet there was a soft glow around his wife.

She was there, leaning against the kitchen table, and she was in chains. Her wrists and ankles were individually shackled and the chains were attached to the four legs of the table, so that her legs were spread apart and she was bent forwards, unable to move, completely helpless. He might have gotten a fright if it wasn’t for her clothing which told him she had done this to herself. A tight grey t-shirt which she had hacked away so that it barely covered her nipples and left the bottom halves of her breasts exposed, and a denim skirt so short that her buttocks showed were her only coverings. Her long blond hair had some sort of glowing substance in it, which was the source of the soft light illuminating her curves. He met her eyes, and she bit her lip and smiled.

‘You’re home,’ she commented in the silkiest voice he had ever heard her use on him.
‘What is this?’ he asked, his voice reduced to nothing but a whisper.
‘I’ve been imprisoned,’ she said over her shoulder.

‘I’m your slave now, until such time that you choose to set me free.’

He took a few steps forward and ran his fingers over the cold metal shackle on her wrist. ‘Where’s the key?’

‘It’s in the corner over there,’ she nodded toward the far corner of the kitchen floor, where a ring of 4 keys lay in a heap.

Suddenly he smiled, he stood directly behind her and bent over her until his chest was against her back. He whispered in her ear, ‘so you’re my slave, mine to do to as I please?’

He was sure that in the light he would have seen a blush steal across her cheeks. ‘Yes my love.’

‘Anything?’

‘Yes.’ She was trembling slightly, and he recognized this sign as anticipation…

In that moment he lost some of his control and in two or three deft sweeps he was completely naked, his hard-on stiff and straight as an arrow. He knelt down and circled her shackled ankles with his large hands, moving them up her legs, caressing the backs of her thighs and then kneading her buttocks, spreading them and exposing her secret to his eyes.

He pushed the buttocks together which he knew from experience pushed the lips of her vagina together, and when he pulled the meaty cheeks apart again the pink outer labia were suctioned together, and they parted reluctantly, revealing the warm pink tunnel he was so eager to enter. He leaned forward and took a mouthful of her thigh, continuing to massage her strongly. With his forefinger he followed the crevice of her full cheeks from the top, down between them over her anus, and hesitating slightly, he stroked between her legs.

A shiver passed through her and he felt her knees weaken as he stroked softly up and down her soaking wet clamshell. He reached up and pushed down on her back with his hand so that she was more bent over, and began to finger her softly, just pushing the very tip of his finger inside her hole, tight from the weeks of no sex.

‘Love,’ she moaned softly, her voice heavy with arousal.

He could feel the heat of passion consuming him, and he wanted to be crazy, his member was throbbing luxuriously and he wanted to join it with her swollen sex. He kissed up her leg and spread her buttocks once again; he leaned in, opened the wet lips with two fingers and flicked her opening lightly with his tongue.

She moaned and continued to moan. He stood on his feet behind her. He stroked her hips and back all the way to her tiny t-shirt, feeling under it and gripping her shoulders, squeezing them. He caressed her hips some more, and then slid the short skirt up to her waist. With one hand he parted her buttocks, while he took hold of his now aching penis in the other.

He placed the tip of it at the top of her crack and stroked it down slowly, until he reached her anus, and at that moment several droplets of wetness escaped the end of his shaft. He moaned and rubbed the organ in several circles, massaging her tiny bum hole. Delighted to see her hips moving tantalizingly from side to side, he continued downward until his rounded tip made contact with her vagina. Suddenly his penis head was covered in moisture and he couldn’t stop himself from rubbing it all around her flower, the intense pleasure she felt was evident in her moans and the increased movement of her hips, as she stood on her tip toes and raised her secret to him as much as she could.

‘Ready baby?’ he asked breathlessly.

‘Make me yours,’ she whimpered, and after two more rubs of their penis and vagina he thrust upward and penetrated her, forcing himself in right up to the hilt and making them both cry out.

‘Andy!’ She cried, and pushed back against him as far as she could, desperately wanting him to hammer her. She could feel his rod all the way inside her, stretching her and impaling her and the erotic position made her want to explode with passion. He held onto her thigh with one hand, her back with the other, and began to thrust, mercilessly, passionately, oooooh it was good! Her vagina, her sex, her secret intimate tunnel, her hole, all those words flashed into his mind as he hammered her, he could feel her warm wet and tight flesh gripping his rod as he gave himself up to the pleasure.

He leaned forward to flip her shirt all the way about her breasts, and tilted his head as he thrust her so he could see them hanging and swaying with every motion of his hips. It didn’t last long, they were both so passionate that they couldn’t wait…’faster!’ she cried and although she was his sex slave he obeyed her and went faster, faster until her body shuddered violently, like a fit, and a moment later his body tensed, every muscle flexed and his milk flowed from him into her body. He didn’t stop, moving his hips in long motions, slower and slower, riding out the waves of both of their orgasms.

Then, still inside her, he leaned over her and hugged her, catching his breath, kissing her neck and shoulders and tasting the sweat of her exertions. He stroked her hair and felt that it was damp, and his chest filled with satisfaction…she loved him, and he loved her, and that’s how it would always be… bondage of love.