Chapter 4

After that, actually shopping for groceries was nice and boring. I let her do all of the actual selection and loading, only helping her when she selected something big and heavy, like a case of Coke and (another!) case of Miller, two things that she knew I would want in my house.

Milk, eggs, bacon, cereal, bread, lunch stuff, veggies, meat, dinner stuff. I could have handled that. It's all the other stuff that she was getting that made me think. This sauce mix, that spice set. She was really seriously getting set up to run that kitchen on a long-term basis. I kept my mouth shut. Compared to what I was getting, the cost was nothing. Even if she wasn't willing to cook, it would have been a good deal. She was certainly worth all the trouble, just for her "personal services." Her willingness to run the kitchen was like free ice cream, on top of the icing on the cake.

I did play with her, after instructing her to keep both hands on her shopping cart if she wasn't actually picking something up to put in it. After that, I could touch her in any way I wanted, and she would just stand there with her hands on the cart, and wait until I was done before she moved on to the next item. She quickly learned to spread her legs when I touched them, so that as I slid my hand up her thigh my thumb could slide easily into her box. Of course she was sopping wet.

I did that quite a few times as she pushed the cart up and down each aisle, and it gave me an idea for a new instruction. "Shirley, I like that. It's very arousing. I have a new order for you: any time I touch you, you will spread your legs the way you are doing now. You don't have to split yourself, and I'm not going to insist on measuring angle or clearance or anything like that. I just want you to, whatever your legs are doing, I want you to move your knees apart a little. Enough for me to see that you did it. Just like you are doing now. It'll be our little private signal system. I'll touch you, and you'll know that I think that you are pretty enough to fuck, and you'll spread your legs, and I'll know that you are offering to serve me. Got it?"

"Yes, Master. Would you please touch me again?" So I walked around the cart to her other side, and I slowly put my hand out and touched my index finger to the tip of her nose. She smiled and spread her legs a little, pushing her crotch forward as she did it.

I laughed and told her "I think that we have communicated!" Then I shook my head, still smiling, and added "You are so beautiful!" Her reply? "I am so horny!"

A little while later, after a short discussion about how small my Datsun was and the possibility of having to make her walk home because there would be no room for her in the car if she got much more stuff, she asked me "Master, may I ask a personal question about what kind of pervert you are?"

"Of course, my love! I want you to know all about my sick, perverted needs."

"Good. Um, did you become aroused earlier, by spanking me?"

"Darling, I become aroused by everything I do to you. And surely you knew that men enjoy humiliating and degrading beautiful women, and making them do disgusting and awful things."

"Well, yes, and you and those men proved it this morning at that store, but I was wondering particularly about the spanking, because last night when you did it in front of Fred you said that you enjoyed it."

"Oh, I did. Partly because you deserved it, and partly because I loved doing it to you. Why?"

"But was it sexual enjoyment? Was it arousing, or just fun like playing tennis?"

"I see what you're asking. Yes, that counts as sexual torture. I enjoy it, it causes you pain, and we both become sexually aroused by it."

"I didn't become sexually aroused by being spanked. I became sexually aroused by you touching me. Master, would you please touch me again, so that I can show you how I respond?" So I lightly ran the backs of my fingers up her arm, and she stopped pushing the cart and spread her knees a little. I grinned at her, and she grinned back at me. "Master, that was an excellent idea. I can 'communicate' with you, even when you don't touch me. If you see me across a room, then as soon as I know you are looking at me I can tell you what I want you to do, without saying a word. Who knows, you may have ordered me to be quiet."

"But what if you don't see me?"

She looked at me as if I was an idiot. Perhaps I am. "Master, a slave MUST know where her owner is, and what he is doing, at all times, for her own safety. How else is she to know if he wants her to, uh, do something for him? I think you can trust me on this, Master. If you're in sight, I'll be watching you."

I gave her a couple of minutes before I asked "But, what if you are blindfolded?"

She looked at me from the side, as she slowly pushed the cart down the aisle. "I don't think that the romance novels cover that situation. Blindfolded, tied down and abused, yes, very common plot element. Being enslaved and forced to obey a man she hates, yes, it's in all the best books. But, being blindfolded, enslaved, and horribly abused by the man she loves? I don't think I've read that book, yet."

I started laughing, and pulled her hands off the cart and wrapped them around me. "So, how would you like to become a best-selling author?" She let out a shriek of laughter, and held me tight until I let go of her. When I did, she finally let me know what she had been talking about in the first place. "Always and forever, Master. When we get home, would you please spank me so that you get aroused and can fuck me again like I need?"

"I don't think I'll have to spank you for that. Besides, I don't want to do it every day. It would become boring, and then where would we be?"

"We would be in the mental hospital, because I went crazy worrying about not keeping you interested. Well, that's where I'd be. I hope you'll visit."

This was the relationship I had always dreamed of. All that was left now, was finding a way to make it last. And, I think that this was where I started thinking about writing this stuff down. I mean, I can't ever show this to anyone, but maybe the doctors in the looney bin will let me read my own diary.

"Well, don't expect me to tell the authorities that you're crazy. I haven't yet."

I finally got a chance to think, on our way home, and I came up with an out for a conflict in all the orders I had given Shirley. She was sitting normally for a change, but leaning her head on my shoulder. I'd have ripped her shirt off, if I didn't need both hands to drive. Again, I resolved that the next car I bought would have an automatic transmission, so I'd have a hand free for her tits. The way it was, all I could do was keep verifying that her snatch was wet, and far warmer than is normal. For normal people.

"Honey, I've given you a lot of "Obey this forever" orders, but my feelings about how you should behave have changed since last night, and some of the newer orders don't go well with some of the older ones. I'm still thinking this through, so we might be making a couple of changes to the rules. I hope it doesn't confuse you too much."

"You seem to have forgotten the rule that says 'When we're in the car, I will suck your dick until you tell me to stop', but I don't know why. It seems like a good rule, to me."

I growled "We need a bigger car for that. I don't want you to have back problems."

"Master, my back doesn't bother me as much as my rear does right now. I don't think I want to complain about my spanking, but how much longer are you going to make me wear that plug?"

This wasn't what I wanted to talk about, but, well, okay. "Tonight, after you have fucked my brains out and you have cleaned me up and I have fallen asleep, you may take it out. I want you to be sitting on the pot when you do it, and I want you to stay there until it's safe for you to come back to bed. You can take a shower if you want. I want you to be clean and healthy. And happy, of course. Wash your plug off. Think of how I might ask you to demonstrate that it's clean. When you're done, come back to bed and keep me warm. Quickly. If I wake up because I am cold, I will make you count to 25. Got it?"

"Yes, Master. Um, are you going to make me put that plug back in?"

"Depends. The first time you fail to please me with your mouth or your pussy, I will fuck your ass. If, when that happens, you show me any reluctance at all for anal sex, I will put that plug back in, and it will stay there as long as I want."

"That sounds fair. Will you teach me how to please you with my mouth?"

"Certainly! I look forward to owning the 'world's greatest cocksucker'." Hell, what could I teach her about that? She was already better than anyone else I knew. No, not really. I had to admit -to myself at least- that my 'girlfriend' in High School -the one that liked being told what to do- had been better by the time we broke up, but then she'd practiced on me just about every day for two years or so.

"Good! Okay, Master, the next issue: You aren't going to change the rule that says "I will never, ever, ever wear any clothing of any kind to bed", are you? I like that one, too."

"No, I'm not going to change that rule. Some things are too basic to mess with."

"Good. Then, which rules are you going to change?"

"Well, we've got one rule that says "You will strip and beg to serve me, before entering my house", and another rule that says "You will continue to wear those clothes until I tell you to remove them." These two rules are going to come into conflict in just a few minutes."

"Master? I like that first rule. It's a good one. Can we say that that second one isn't really a rule, but just a temporary instruction that loses effect the second I enter your yard?"

I stopped the car, right there in the middle of the road, and stared at her.

"What? I hope you're not getting mad at me because I want to be nude in front of you!"

I slid my hand up and twiddled one of her nipples through her shirt until it was hard -that didn't take long- and then pinched it, until she gave me a little squeal of pain.

"You are not my girlfriend. You are my property. One aspect of that is that you will occasionally get orders that you don't like. If I am in a good mood, I may let you try to talk me out of it. However, your order will stand whether you like it or not, until I cancel it."

"No, I'm not mad at you because you want to be nude in front of me. I personally think that's great. You are a beautiful woman, and I enjoy looking at you. I am merely getting annoyed because you keep telling me how happy you are to be my slave, but then start whining about being treated like one." I waited for a response, but she didn't say anything. Probably wise of her.

"The first rule will stand. It's a good one, and I like it. You may, in the course of your life, occasionally happen to be wearing clothes when we get to my house. If that happens, you will strip completely, including your shoes, and beg me for permission the way I taught you, before entering your owner's house. If you happen to be nude when you arrive at my house, well, the rule still stands, you just don't have to strip first. Got it?"

"Yes, Master. I am happy to strip for you."

"Yeah, whatever. Next. My order to "keep your clothes on" is a temporary instruction. The rules are there to guide your behavior when you have no instructions, but the instructions are what I want you to do right now, and they take precedence. As it stands right now, you want to obey my instruction to wear that, but you don't want to violate the rule about entering my home, so if I don't tell you what to do you should probably just stand there at the door and ask me. If I have been mean to you and ordered you to be silent, then you will simply stand there in the rain or snow or whatever, until I ask you what's up, or figure it out on my own if I don't want you to talk. Still make sense?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good. My general desire is for you to be available to me, yet not cause public comment when we are outside. You should always be nude in my house so that I can enjoy looking at you. Now, tonight, I want to get everything we bought inside before it spoils. So, in order to accomplish that, I am going to unload the car, and bring things to you at the door. You will take what I give you at the door, and put it away where it belongs. The kitchen is yours. You can safely assume that I will never tell you how to do things in the kitchen. You understand it far better than I do. All I'll ever do is tell you what I want, like coffee, or mashed potatoes. It's up to you how you accomplish that. Any problems so far?"

"No, Master. Breakfast in bed tomorrow, wearing nothing but lipstick?"

"Lipstick and a smile. A woman in love always smiles when she sees her man."

"Master, you shouldn't tell me that. I want to smile because I love you. I don't want to smile because you told me to."

"Okay, honey, you're right. I didn't tell you that. Anyway, we're past the stage where I wanted to put you on public display for strangers to fuck. Now, we're at the stage where I want to protect my property," -I was back to stroking the little hood that covered her clit- "and I don't need the police coming to my house because some jealous neighbor called them about some naked slut walking around in my yard."

"Okay. We'll revise that rule. We've been talking about the front porch. Let's split that out. Any time you get to my front door, you will wait until you have permission before you enter my house. Then, once you have permission, you may enter the foyer while you are dressed. However, you may not LEAVE the foyer, until you are completely nude. Not to watch TV, not to go to the bathroom, and not to put the ice cream away before it melts. If the neighbors are watching, you will step inside the front door, shut it, and strip before you go any further. I want you nude for my pleasure, not anyone else's. How is that?"

She smiled at me. "Does that take precedent over your current instruction to wear clothes?" I slid my hand back up to her tits, and started twiddling her nipples again. "Master! Please, I'm just asking. I have to wear these clothes until I have permission to strip. I just want to know the first instant that I am allowed to be naked in front of you, like I should be."

"Okay. This time, that instruction lapses as soon as you have both feet in the foyer. But, I don't want to set a precedent. The next time I give you an instruction, I may not intend that. For instance, if we are pretending to be a normal couple, and we have a Buddhist priest (she was Episcopal and I was Methodist) come over for marriage counseling, I will probably want you to remain dressed as we calmly talk in the living room. I'll let you strip after he leaves. In that case, the order would stand until I told you it was revoked. Am I still making sense?"

"Yes, Master. If you tell me to keep them on, I have to wear them until you tell me I can take them off."

"That's a pretty good short version. Okay, honey, we're home. Let's hurry up and unload the car so I can see you nude."

I killed the engine and got out, and walked around to help Shirley out. We walked hand in hand to the front door, which I unlocked and opened. Then, I turned around and hugged her while she formally begged me for permission to enter my house and serve me. When she was done, I told her "Of course, my love, I want that very much" and pushed her into the foyer before going back to the car for some of the groceries.

When I got back to the front door, Shirley was standing there nude, waiting for me. I handed her my load, and went back to the car for some more. After far too many trips, the car was empty and I went inside, carrying the last couple of items. Of course I noticed her clothes laying on the floor, and I realized that we needed some more furniture to make this work.

I handed Shirley those last items, and asked her if she needed any help putting things away. She declined my offer, saying that she'd be done in a minute, and asked if I wanted to watch TV with a beer. I accepted the offer, and pointed out that I would be giving the beer back to her before long. She made a face, but brought me the beer while I tried to find something to watch. Boring movies, boring sitcoms, boring news, boring basketball game. I don't care if the Cavaliers are leading the conference. I don't care about UVA, and I certainly don't care about basketball. When is football season going to start again, so I can watch Ga Tech beat them? It's the only reason I know of, to watch Cavalier sports.

In a couple of minutes, Shirley came to be with me, so I finished my beer and made her get two more. Yes, we were curled up together on the couch, and the TV was on, but I don't think that either of us could tell you what was showing. I really love holding her, touching her and making her squirm.

Before long, I needed to make room for more beer. I started rubbing her ass where I had been spanking her, and asked her if she would give me an honest answer to an honest question. "Of course. Always." So, I asked her if she enjoyed being my toilet. She tensed up for a second, but came right out with the answer. "No, Master, I really don't. It's gross, it's degrading, and it's unsanitary. It can't be healthy to do that. I wish you wouldn't make me do it."

I kept rubbing her ass. "Honey, you are supposed to be my bitch, and do whatever I want you to, whether you like it or not. Frankly, I'm having trouble coming up with things that you don't want to do. And, I have to have something I can make you do regularly, or you'll lose track of our relationship. If it's not this, then I'll have to find something else to reinforce your submission, and whatever I come up with may well be worse. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to share you. So, as long as I believe that you hate it and only do it to prove your devotion to me, we'll keep doing it."

That said, I got up long enough to go into the bedroom and take my shoes and pants off, and went back to the couch. When I sat back down, Shirley put her head in my lap and took my dick in her mouth, waiting. I pissed up into her mouth, and she swallowed it. After I was done, I just sat there for awhile, enjoying the way she felt on my dick, and exploring her body with my hands. There was no reason not to make her feel good, after all. She was doing something pretty disgusting for no reason except that I demanded it of her.

After a little while, I pulled her head off my dick, and just caressed her face and hair.

I was feeling very content, and beginning to doze off, when she asked "Master? What if I had said I liked it?"

"Well, I would have taken your word for it, and made sure that you got as much as you wanted, from as many people as it took. Then, I would have tried to find something even more degrading for you to do."

Another pause. I think that she was beginning to doze off, too. "This is degrading enough. Can I brush my teeth, or rinse my mouth out?"

I paused, too, as I searched for a compromise. "You can drink some more of your beer."

I will not punish her for making ugly faces. I need to be able to judge her mood, and her thoughts when I give her an order. "Yes, Master."

"Honey, are you about ready for bed?"

"Uh, it would be really nice to go to the bathroom. It would be even nicer to actually use your bathroom, instead of going outside. Master, do I need your permission to pee?"

"I don't think so, not directly, but if you are with me like this, you certainly need permission to leave me all bored and lonely. Yes, dear, you may go pee in the toilet. You may not close the door. Ever, without permission."

As she got up, and just before she ran for the pot, "Yes, Master. Thank you!"

I thought about following her into the bathroom and bothering her, but it didn't seem very important. She was doing everything I wanted, so there was no reason to push her anymore. I went to bed, realizing again that I needed to add water. When she joined me, I asked if she remembered everything she was supposed to do tonight.

What she said matched what I remembered, so we did it. She climbed on top and fucked me until I came, smashing my ass into the plywood on the bottom of the bed the whole time, stopping a couple of times for her own orgasms, while I lay back and played with her magnificent tits. When I softened and shrank enough to fall out, she got off me and gave my crotch a tongue-bath. I fell asleep with her soft mouth keeping my dick warm.

I woke up in the middle of the night, sometime, laying on my side with her tits pressed tightly to my back. I want this, for the rest of my life. I reached back and held her against me, and went back to sleep.

The next morning was Shirley's second with me, but her first as my acknowledged and willing, permanent live-in fucktoy. I woke up before she did, to find us doing the octopus thing. We were so intertwined that I didn't think I could move anything, without disturbing her.

It felt really good to be at home finally, my own home and my own bed, and wake up with the beautiful woman I'd been making love with for two years. Always before, she had left me in the middle of the night to go home to her husband. Now, and forever, she would still be in my bed when I woke up.

I loved her very much, but she was still my slave, and as I woke up I felt the need for her to do her morning chores. I extracted myself, making her start to stir and reach for me, but as soon as I was free I pushed her head down to my crotch. Her mouth opened to accept my dick, and as soon as I thought it safe I started to piss, as slowly as I could, in case I had to stop. I could feel her swallowing, so I let her have my whole load, and then pulled her back up to cuddle with me as we went back to sleep.

The next thing I knew, Shirley was leaning over the bed, holding a little tray that had a cup of coffee, a glass of orange juice, a plate of food, and some silverware. I sat up and took it from her. "Where is yours?"

"Still in the kitchen." About this time I woke up enough to notice that she had fresh lipstick on. Have I mentioned how much I love her?

"Bring it in here, and come back to bed. I want my beautiful slave to eat with me."

Okay, my ideas aren't always very good. When I had gotten the house, the very first item I had bought for it was a huge waterbed. Now, I still loved it. It had turned out to be very comfortable, and my arm never went to sleep from being under Shirley all night. Yes, it was a bit lively when we started moving around, but that didn't bother me. Shirley had commented on it a couple of times when we first started using it, but that hadn't lasted very long. When people asked me how it was, I would just smile and say "It's no worse than a small boat in a storm." My only problem was that, when she was on top, the weight of two people made me sink all the way to the bottom, but that would get solved soon. I hoped. I should ask how she feels about it.

Anyway, breakfast in a water bed with two people turns out to be a bad idea. When Shirley climbed back in bed, I spilled my orange juice all over my tray, and I was lucky it didn't go all over the bed, too. My coffee wasn't a problem, of course, because I'd already drunk most of it.

She was upset at breakfast having gone wrong, and we both put our trays on the floor while I comforted her. It wasn't her fault. Comforting turned into caressing, which led to arousal, and it wasn't too long before she asked me if she could have "her morning fuck". What? Do I owe her a dick every morning? What if I can't provide?

We wiggled around until she was straddling me, and while she humped me I concentrated on keeping her tits from flopping around too much. I was becoming worn out -Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! She is going to ask, soon, and I won't be able to!- and it took me a while, so she came several times before I did. Again, when it became my turn I held her tight while I fucked her as hard as I could.

Later, when we had both calmed down, Shirley got off me long enough to lick me clean, and then snuggled back up with me for another nap, without either of us saying a word.