Tag: widowed husband

Becoming Dogshit the Bitch

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It began with some fairly normal experimentation in the bedroom. One night I bound her with zip ties and fucked her. She liked that a lot but when I tried it again it didn’t work as well. Her explanation was that she knew me too well to submit to me. When it was my turn and she took the dominant role, I couldn’t believe how much I liked it but once again it just really didn’t work for her. One day out of the blue she told me that she would like to watch me submit to another woman. I agreed feeling like I had just won the lottery and a few nights later a friend of hers from college came to the house. I still get hard, or at least as hard as my cage allows, when I remember that night. She took me down slowly, one little step at a time until I was licking her feet and begging to lick her pussy. Once she had been completely satisfied, I was allowed to stroke myself to orgasm then ordered to lick it off the floor. When she left, I hugged my wife and thanked her for the amazing experience, she was a little bit distant, but I didn’t think too much of it since it had been a strange night.

The next night when memories of her friend got me excited, I tried to make love to my wife. She told me in no uncertain terms that seeing me lick my own cum off the floor had ended her attraction to me. When I begged her to forgive me, she explained that it wasn’t what I had done that turned her off, it was seeing how I was. I tried for a few minutes to convince her that a little kinky play didn’t mean anything, but it didn’t go anywhere. I was humiliated. Being humiliated made me hard which made me doubly humiliated. Finally, she took pity on me and told me to strip and kneel in front of her. Once I was there, she told me that she still loved me and wanted me to be happy then ordered me to stroke my cock. It was awkward and unnatural for the first minute but then she suddenly slapped me and said, “Stroke it like you mean it worm.” I was off to the races then. In a few minutes I was close, she knew the signs and just before I went, she slapped me again and ordered me to stop. I was hoping that she would command me to lick her pussy or something sexy like that but instead she just ordered me to put my hands behind my back and remain silent. She picked up a book and began reading, ignoring me completely. Being ignored like that kept me completely ridged and I wished that I could have stayed there until she was ready to pay attention to me again but kneeling is a lot harder than it looks if your body isn’t used to it. Finally, I had to beg her to let me move. The contempt in her voice when she told me how pitiful I was turned me on even more and by this point I was really enjoying being denied permission to touch myself.

I was allowed to sit cross legged and ordered to begin stroking again. Once again it only took a minute before I was ready. This time she ordered me to continue but not cum. Edging myself as she watched was pure heaven, but it only took a few minutes before she was obviously bored. She ordered me to remove my hand again and asked, “Do you really like this stuff as much as it seems?” I was too embarrassed to answer verbally so I just nodded. She looked disgusted and said, “For Christ’s sake, you can’t even admit it like a man.” She pulled a Kleenex from the dispenser next to her and held it down at penis level then said, “Cum in this then go to bed. When I come in don’t speak to me or touch me.” The fact that it was the biggest load of my life was the final humiliation of the night.

For the next month she kept me in the submissive role but it was nothing like you read in books. She didn’t buy a strap on or suddenly start being excited by her dominion over me. Mostly she ignored me except for assigning me chores. Every few nights she would order me to kneel in front of her and stroke myself. It was more like venting than something she found pleasurable but as I stroked my cock, she would tell me how unmanly and disgusting I had become then make me cum exactly when and exactly where she wanted. I wouldn’t admit it if she hadn’t ordered me to but it was one of the happiest months of my life. It wasn’t on purpose, but her level of distain was just right to keep me constantly excited and being forced to do dozens of things for her just to get her to acknowledge that I was alive felt good and natural to me.

The next month was the very happiest of my life. She came home late one Friday night, she no longer told me when or where she went. I woke up as she got into bed and all she said was, I,” think I understand you better now.”

The next morning, she slapped me awake and sent me to fix her tea and toast. When she had finished her breakfast, she casually spread her legs and began masturbating right in front of me. I said something like “wow” and she gave me the first smile in weeks and told me to put my head eight inches from her pussy and watch. It was an amazing experience, when she began to orgasm I raised my head and watched her face, we both had a look of pure gaziantep escort ecstasy. After relaxing for a few minutes, she waggled her finger for me to come closer. As soon as I was near she gave me a powerful slap saying, “I didn’t give you permission to move.” I apologized calling her “Honey” and “Baby” as I did. She slapped me again and said to address her as “Ma’am” or “Mistress” from now on. My dick was already hard, but it got much harder when she did that. The last step over the line into heaven was when she told me to lick her pussy softly from top to bottom just once then go fix her a bath. I sat on the cold tile floor while she bathed. Once she sent me for a fresh cup of tea, later she had me add more hot water. Near the end she ordered me to close my eyes and I could hear but not watch as she masturbated a second time.

When she got out of the bath, I was allowed to dry her off but ordered to be careful not to touch her except with the towel as I did. I was slapped again for missing a small spot on her back which made my dick rise up again. She took it in her hand and in a soft sexy voice asked if I would like to put it inside her. When I said, “Yes,” she let go, smiled and ordered me to get dressed and go cut the grass. Once I had my shorts and t-shirt on, I sat on the bed to pull my socks on. Suddenly she was standing in front of me, towering over me in fact. She told me to lean my head back and open my mouth wide. When I had obeyed, she told me that while I cut the grass she wanted me to choose three names for myself and that she would pick one to use from now on. I was about to ask what sort of names when she bent over and spat directly into my mouth then slapped me one more time when I reflexively closed it without permission. That clarified the nature of the assignment for me.

We have the typical quarter acre suburban lot and most of it was in the front yard, so I cut that first. When I took the mower through the gate Mistress was laying on her chase lounge sunbathing naked. I wasn’t surprised to find her there; the stockade privacy fence was one of the reasons we bought this house and whenever the weather permitted, she spent exactly one-hour sunbathing. We don’t have a nice wooden deck, just an eight-foot square concrete patio but its low elevation made it perfect for her sun bath. After I closed the gate, she motioned for me to come over. I cut off the mower and approached. Her chaise lounge was near the edge of the slab, when I got close she pointed to a spot in the grass near her and told me to sit.

“Have you come up with the list yet?”

I flushed hoping that she would be just a little annoyed as I said, “I’m having trouble limiting it to three Mistress.”

She did look irritated for a moment then took on a neutral expression as she said, “Tell me all of them.”

My dick began to stiffen in anticipation of the humiliation that was to come, “Cunt, Bitch, Pussy, Dog, Dog Shit and Turd all seem suitable Mistress.”

Her tone changed and she suddenly sounded like my wife again as she asked, “Are you really sure that this is how you want to live? How you want to be treated?

“Yes, Ma’am”

“Have you always wanted this?”

“It has always been my favorite fantasy, but I never dreamed that it could be real. Now that I have experienced it, I don’t think I can live without it.”

She sighed and seemed to be thinking for a moment then ordered me to stand up and put my hands behind my head. When I was positioned as she wished she said, “Wet your left index finger in your mouth then reach inside your pants and put it in your ass to the second joint.” I obeyed which left me standing in a strange leaning and hunched over position. “Now piss in your pants. When your bladder is empty count slowly to ten then finish cutting the lawn. If this is still what you want when you are done come back here and say my name is Dog Shit.”

I started to remove my hand, she didn’t have to speak, the look was enough. My bladder was very full so it took a good long while to empty, by the time I finished my hand and both of my legs were soaked, so were my sneakers. Pissing myself was humiliating enough but feeling the pee turn cold as I slowly counted to ten was even worse. She watched me the entire time. When I removed my finger from my ass she asked, “Did that make you erect?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Show me.”

I pulled my dick out through the fly in my shorts and through my zipper. She looked at it and said, “Unimpressive,” then “Leave it out while you mow.”

I know that no one can see into our backyard, but I still felt like the entire world was watching as I went back in fourth with my dick sticking out of my wet pants. I was so embarrassed that I wanted to cry but my erection never wavered. When I was finished, I went back to the patio and kneeled next to Mistress and said, “My name is Dogshit.”

She glanced up from her book and said, “And I am your konya escort bitch.”

“My name is Dogshit and I am your bitch.”

“Ten more times then strip and wash yourself off with the garden hose. After that it would probably be a good time to start the laundry.”

She had tested me with this ordeal. I had no right to question her much less test her, but I wanted to know if this was going to be as intense as I wanted, “May I put on fresh clothes Mistress?”

My heart soared when she replied, “No, and you will put a clothespin on your tiny little sack for daring to ask.”

I finished the laundry a little before noon and went to ask her what she would like for lunch. I found her in the dining room where she was talking on her cell phone. As I approached, I heard her saying, “Yes, he reacted just like you said he would. It was a little sad but also a lot of fun. I think I have a sadistic side I wasn’t aware of before.” When I entered the room, she looked up and asked, “Were you listening?”

“No Mistress but I couldn’t help but hear a little of your conversation.”

“Take your phone and go to the guest bathroom and put your head in the toilet until I call you.”

As I left the room, she turned her attention back to her phone and said, “On second thought I definitely have a sadistic side.”

I don’t know how long I knelt there; time moves slowly when you have your head in a toilet. Finally, I heard the tone for a text. I pulled my head out and read, “I said call, not text, you useless piece of crap.” I looked around and saw her standing in the hall watching me. As I started to put my head back in the toilet she asked, “How should you be punished for that?”

It came out of my mouth without a moment’s hesitation, “I should be ordered to sleep on the floor in here tonight Mistress.”

She laughed out loud, I have always loved her laugh. Then she said, “Get dressed, you are going shopping.” and handed me a list.

Her list looked like something out of a porno book that I would really like to read.

2 Mild impact toys

2 Medium impact toys

1 Harsh impact toy

1 Very harsh impact toy

1 Women’s one-piece bathing suit (for you)

1 Soft dildo slightly larger than your dick

1 Soft dildo much larger than your dick

1 Butt plug comfortable size

1 Butt plug punishment size

1 Set of restraints

1 Premium steak

1 Medium Sweet potato

1 Can of Spam

1 Very large sketch pad, paper, not canvas

I began at the sex shop, there is a large one just a few miles from the house. Picking the items was exciting, I didn’t have to ask for help so it wasn’t humiliating. That changed when I got to the checkout and the man there gave me a look that said that he knew exactly who those toys would be used on. The bill came to over three hundred dollars, while we waited for my card to be approved the man reached over the counter and picked up a tube of lubricant. With an evil grin he dropped it in my bag saying, “Trust me, you will want this.” I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but I was too embarrassed to speak.

My second stop was Walmart. I thought that it would be anonymous enough to make buying the bathing suit fairly painless. I immediately ran into the problem of not knowing my size in women’s clothes. They had a rack with a variety of sizes on it so I stood there for several minutes examining one after another, pulling on them to see how far the material stretched. I had just decided that I was an extra large when I heard a woman behind me, “Large, take the pink one, it has a wider crotch to hold your boy parts.” I couldn’t breath as I turned around and saw a petite woman standing there. I was trying to take in enough breath to tell her the ‘shopping for my wife’ story when she finished me off, “I feminize my submissives too, she will like seeing you in the pink.” When I had to put my hand on the rack to stay standing, she laughed and walked away.

When I recovered all that was left were the sketch pad and the groceries. That’s the advantage of shopping at Walmart, the art department had plain paper sketch pads two feet wide and three feet tall. The grocery section had a beautiful filet and the other items I needed. Checking out didn’t need to be embarrassing but even using the self-checkout I felt like everyone there knew that the bathing suit was for me.

When I got home, Mistress wanted to see the toys first. I laid them out on the kitchen table. She examined the heavy leather restraints and gave them an approving nod. Next came the dildoes and the larger butt plug, those also got an approving nod. The smaller butt plug made her nose wrinkle but she didn’t make any comment. She picked up the flogger then casually said, “pants around your ankles, bent over the table.” She struck me with each toy twice. The flogger and the riding crop felt like a lover’s caress. The acrylic paddle was more kayseri escort like being touched by God and the leather one brought back memories of a stern teacher. I bought the leather quirt thinking it would be harsh but not too harsh. It felt like a branding iron. The final toy was a short whip, just thinking about it turned me on and I couldn’t wait to experience lash marks. It stung and it marked but it wasn’t nearly as painful as the quirt.

Mistress allowed me to stand and replace my pants before she picked up the tube of lubricant and asked, “What’s this?” I told her about the man putting it in the bag, she gave a non-committal nod that should have worried me then asked to see the bathing suit. She expressed surprise that I had managed to get the right size which led me to tell her about the woman at Walmart. That led to another nod, this one did worry me a little, it should have worried me a lot. The sketch pad only took a moment. Mistress opened it then wrote, “Mistress I beg you to” on the first page and, “I want to” on the second followed by a verbal, “You will use your free time to fill in these two pages. The rest of the pages you will fill in with your name and what you are.” I gulped at that; the pages were very big. Finally, she opened the bag with the groceries and looked at the steak. It was larger than she was likely to eat, and the sweet potato looked very nice to me. She put them down and in a quiet but very scary voice said, “Remove your clothes and bend over the table.”

I didn’t know what I had done wrong but I knew I was in trouble. Even as I undressed, I was asking, “Have I displeased you Mistress?”

Her voice was the coldest I had ever heard her use as she said, “Lets review. You brought home something to ease your suffering without permission from the first store. You solicited help from an attractive dominatrix to select your bathing suit and when I asked for a premium steak you brought me something from Walmart. Yes, you have displeased me.”

I opened my mouth to explain and apologize but she cut me off with, “Don’t even try Dog Shit. Hold your mouth open wide.”

She picked up the tube of lubricant and read the label then took the cap off and opened it. She put a small dab on the tip of her finger and tasted it then walked around the table and squeezed more than half of the tube into my mouth saying, “Do not swallow, hold it in your mouth.” It tasted terrible but the worst part was that it kept me from being able to speak or even grunt. She gave me ten strokes with the quirt, my ass felt like it was on fire and not being able to make a sound made it ten times worse.

I was shaken and felt very punished but for such a string of bad behavior it didn’t seem so bad until she said, “That was for the lubricant.” She picked up the acrylic paddle. Two strokes had stung, ten strokes on top of ten strokes made me wish I could beg for mercy. She walked around the table again and made sure I saw her picking up the smaller of the two dildoes and lubricating it with olive oil. She smiled at my obvious fear then said, “I have wanted to do this ever since the time you talked me into trying anal sex.” This was something I had dreamed of since I was a teenager and just as in my fantasies it was painful but a delicious pain. When she started moving it in and out, I almost choked on the mouthful of lube and even though my dick wasn’t hard it was the most turned on I have ever been.

“That was for your new girlfriend. Now stand up and spread your legs.” I complied immediately but she looked thoughtful for a moment then changed her mind and said, “Spit the lube out in the sink then stand, legs spread farther and hands behind your head.” I spit most of the lube out and tried to swallow the rest then stood the way she wanted. My heart stopped when she picked up the flogger and swung it lightly so that it just touched my balls. She did that three more times building the drama and my fear at what I knew was coming. She didn’t hit me too hard, but it was enough to bend me over in pain. She gave me about five seconds to recover then said, “Back up slave, I’m not done yet.” That was a hard order to obey but I did it immediately. The second stroke was just a little harder but at least it was the last and I was allowed to stay bent over while I recovered.

Mistress left the room for a minute then came back carrying a throw pillow from our couch. She dropped it on the floor near her chair then pointed at it. I got the message and got down on my knees next to her. She reached over and stroked my face gently saying, “I know that was hard but you were a good boy so I am going to allow you to cum. Say your name over and over as you stroke your cock.”

I knew what she was doing, it’s called classical conditioning. I also knew that it would work and willingly said the words over and over as she watched me masturbate. After a while she said, “Change to I am your bitch.” I had been hot all day which for some reason made it harder to finish. By the time she held the paper napkin for me I had also repeated, “I will do anything to please you,” “I beg to be your toilet,” and “I’m a pussy Mistress” about thirty times each. My orgasm was the best of my life and I thanked her profusely for it and for allowing me thirty seconds to enjoy it before starting her dinner.

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