Chapter 5

As Told By Karen McGifford

Everything my husband has told you is completely true. He has instructed me to tell you in explicit detail about the turning point in our relationship.

It did begin as a dream. I had been having naughty dreams for years. I assumed they were like anyone else’s wet dreams. I never could recall the details. I just knew some of them involved being tied up and whipped. I knew the dreams usually involved some remote farm and I had a metal collar around my neck. I was kept in a stable with other girls and treated like a horse or tied and suspended from a tree. In other dreams I was in sordid orgies with big dicks being shoved in my face and I sucked them all to completion and gobbled their cum.

One morning I told my husband about a particularly explicit wet dream I had while I could still remember the details. He was in it and so were many people I work with and knew. It seemed normal to me that a dream would be based on my real world experiences. Mike interpreted that to mean that I wanted to fuck my friends and co-workers. I was sure that wasn’t right. I’d never cheated on him and I’d never had any desire to.

We had been married for fifteen years and has dated quite a while before that, too. Our sex life wasn’t exciting but it got the job done. I suppose I was sexually frustrated and a little desperate for his physical attention. I told him that would be really nice. We whispered little fantasies to each other in the bedroom about me fucking strangers because he ordered me to. We both got turned on and it spiced up our sex life.

I am a guidance counselor at school and I have a lot of responsibilities. At home, I managed all the household affairs, the bills, even the appointments for the kids. I think I dreamt of being bound in a cage in part, because it was an escape from decision making. I was powerless in the cage but no one expected me to make the right choices either.

Mike told me he wanted to make my dream a reality. It was a really sweet thought but with work, the kids and all the social obligations we had, I didn’t think that could ever happen. Then he started to introduce real bondage with ropes and paddles in the bedroom. It seemed more like a game we were playing instead of living out a dream.

At night, I would call him Master and obediently follow his orders. He would do something to punish me and then we would have rough sex. It was better than any sex we’d had before. If you have seen a picture of me you know I have big tits and a big butt! I don’t break easily so it was fun sex but it wasn’t really recreating my dream.

Mike began to research BDSM. He introduced speech protocols. I had to call him Sir and talk politely. It was difficult at first and frankly it seemed silly. It felt like I was roleplaying someone he wanted me to be.

He began texting me naughty pictures at work. They were usually of women who appeared to be living fulltime as slaves. If they didn’t live it full time it was certainly a big part of their lives. I remember one of the pictures he texted me that profoundly affected me. She was no model by the look of her. She was a pregnant woman handcuffed on her kitchen sink, with her legs bound like she was going to be served as a Turkey Dinner. The wistful look of total surrender and submission to her husband in her doe-eyes, really spoke to me.

Mike’s interest included pain. I didn’t like pain but it seemed like the price I had to pay in order to play our bondage games. He spanked me, pulled my tits, choke-fucked me, butt-fucked me and started making me wear a plug to stretch my asshole almost all of the time. It was uncomfortable but I endured it because it was what he wanted.

He was also interested in humiliation. As an example, he sent me a photo of a fat girl with the words, “I take big stinky shits” written across her tits and, “HELLO DAD” in magic marker on her forehead. The girl’s hands were bound behind her and her legs were in a spreader bar. Her pussy lips were pulled apart by metal clips so that anyone could look right inside her.

She wasn’t just powerless – she was being degraded and ridiculed. At first, I didn’t understand this either. In the game phase, I let Mike do things like this to me because he enjoyed it. He tied me up on weekends and left me in the window facing the backyard. He liked to stuff a dildo in my mouth and make me watch the gardener mow our lawn. I was worried that the gardener would complain so Mike made a rule that if anyone did complain about me being exposed to the gardener, we’d stop his little humiliation game.

It was a clever rule because it meant I had to keep doing it as long as nobody complained. He liked to order me to jog around the block in tight spandex yoga shorts and loose tops. Imagine me with my big old braless tits jiggling back and forth as I try to jog around the neighborhood! As with the gardener, the only way he’d let me give up doing it is if I eventually went wild enough in my outfit choices that someone stopped me and told me I had gone too far. I found myself buying white spandex and pulling my shorts high over my hips so that I could show off my camel toe - and icing up my nipples before I left the house so they were extra hard just so someone might demand I stop jogging.

No one did. I had to keep jogging when Mike told me to. In fact, after a while my daughter even joined me jogging around the neighborhood. She didn’t go out as indecently as I did but she just didn’t see anything wrong with how I was dressed. I was mortified and embarrassed but I smiled and pretended I liked showing off.

On some level, perhaps I do like to show off. I have a nice body and I want my husband to find me attractive. I am glad he isn’t the jealous type. He likes watching other men turn their heads and follow me with their eyes as I wiggle and jiggle in short skirts. He put me on exercise routines to get rid of some of my ‘mom bod’ and to whip me into shape.

I’ve tried a lot of diet programs and gym memberships over the years and I’ve always quit after a few months. Mike said that he was determined to make sure I continued with his program. I was happy to let him try making me!

One of the advantages of this stage of our relationship was that Mike started spending money on new clothes for me. What woman doesn’t love her husband buying her new clothes? Of course he mostly bought trashy outfits that showed off my legs or cleavage. It made it difficult to keep a professional look at the High School I worked at.

The game phase of our training started to morph into a full time BDSM relationship. Anytime we were home alone and especially in the bedroom we, meaning I, was required to maintain a specific protocol. He didn’t allow me to sit on furniture. He decided what I could eat. He started imposing restrictions on when I could go to the bathroom at home and then at school too. He told me I couldn’t smoke or drink wine. He started inspecting the house to see how well I did my chores. My husband also insisted I start to cook. That was something that was never my forte because I just didn’t like to do it. I’ve never been good at it but it was refreshing to finally have our kids sitting at the dinner table together. Our work and home life schedule had made it easier for us to pop TV dinners in the microwave and eat separately when we got hungry. This change was responsible for us growing closer as a family.

I know I should have resented losing my privileges around the house. I’ve always been a strong woman who believed in equal housework and responsibility shared between husband and wife, yet I found myself wishing Mike could be stricter with me around the house. The game was having a real effect on my entire life outlook. I was thinking in submissive ways. I had less stress about things. I felt as long as my husband handled the important decisions, I could delegate those to him and not feel compelled to voice an opinion. It was difficult but the more he stepped up, the more I began to see my husband as my Master.

We often fantasized about what it would be like when the kids were finally grown. Master talked about moving somewhere we could live full time as Master and Slave. Naturally, I knew the bills still need to be paid and groceries still need to be bought. If we weren’t working or shopping then it wouldn’t be long before grandkids were coming over and we’d have to pause the lifestyle for that. I honestly never thought we’d evolve past the Game phase.

That was until my high school reunion rolled around. I had made a hotel reservation for three days in my hometown, six months before the event. A lot had happened since! Mike assured me that I would be his slave 24/7 from the moment we left the house until the moment we set foot in it again. Of course I had no idea he was serious. In fact I KNEW he couldn’t be serious. There would be a lot of drama at my reunion. I had old friends I stayed in touch with on Facebook and I wanted to see them. I had a couple rivals that I never liked that I knew would be there and I wanted to look hotter than them. I had a couple old flames I wanted to make jealous as well. I didn’t tell Master most of this. I let him presume my interest in the reunion was simply to catch up with my school/Facebook friends. So I smiled and nodded and said obediently, “Yes, Sir!”

Master is a loving teddy bear. Of course I assumed he was all talk and no follow-through on that wild statement and just wanted to get a rise out of me. You see we were also supposed to visit my family down there, too. He really doesn’t know them that well - most of what he knew, was the result of hearing me talk on my end of phone calls with them. It seemed so out of the question to me that we’d continue our protocol when we visited them that I didn’t even protest the ridiculous possibility he’d insist on it. I really wasn’t in danger of being exposed like that and I knew it but it was fun to allow him to imagine it.

I got off early on that Friday and I packed up our suitcases. I gave my eldest son Joe, a list of contact numbers and instructions about how to handle things at the house. I knew he was responsible and he is in high school but I just wanted to prepare him for any contingency with his first major responsibility.

“You have to let things go,” Master said to me when I couldn’t seem to extricate myself from the house. Joe and Claire were having a dispute over what he could and couldn’t tell her and her brother to do. I had always been the referee between them and I felt I couldn’t leave before resolving that one last issue.

“If I don’t handle it, then who will?” I asked my husband.

“It’ll work itself out,” Master said and he hustled me to the garage despite my reservations. Mike was excited to show me some of the things he bought for the trip. We had our standard sex-bag of duct tape, rope, dildos and other small toys, leather collars and riding crops. I thought that was overkill for a couple days away from the house, then Mike showed me a collapsible dog-cage he had picked up, just for this trip.

“What are we going to do with that, Sir?” I asked as I looked at the box in the back of the car. I call him Sir when we are alone or in text messages. It seemed excessive to bring this dog cage on a three day trip!

“You are going to sleep in it after I get done using you,” Master promised me with a gleam in his eye. He told me it would keep me from getting up and playing with myself in the bathroom if he left me unfulfilled.

“I did that ONE time, Sir!” I pouted. Master was trying to teach me that as a sex slave I should not focus on my own pleasure. I should get wet when he wanted me to be aroused and I should not be when I should be focused on work. My body doesn’t work that way but sometimes he winds me up and then doesn’t let me finish. I know he is doing it intentionally and it is very hard to resist the urge to finish myself off.

“So you are going to tie up my hands while I am in it, Sir?” I grinned.

“Yep,” he said.

“What if the housekeeper sees it?” I asked with a churlish look of disbelief.

“You can ask to help her clean the room, or stay as you are,” Master replied. He had a habit of answering questions like he had already debated the issue in his head and had the answer written down somewhere. The fact that he always had a plan and a reason behind that plan made me feel more confident about agreeing to his rules.

Back inside the main house, we kissed and hugged the kids goodbye and then set off on our first three day vacation by ourselves in years.

Mike passed me my collar and made me remove my skirt while we drove down to the reunion. I slipped off my skirt. He told me to sit on the palms of my hands and not touch the radio. Once I complied with that, I tried to make a little conversation. “When we get home again, what are we going to tell the kids about why we have the dog cage, Sir?”

Mike looked at me as if the question were ridiculous. “We won’t. It isn’t any of their business. We’ll just keep it in the closet,” he said. He made it sound like he’d be putting ME in the closet at night too, instead of sleeping in our bed. I’d just bought a really expensive and comfortable new bed last Labor Day. I wasn’t looking forward to that possibility!

“Claire likes to raid my closet for clothes. She’s bound to find it and once she does, all the kids will know! You know Kyle has always wanted a dog. Don’t you think it would be cruel for him to find out we have a dog cage, leash, and a dog bowl but no actual dog, Sir?” I asked.

“Are you volunteering?” Master grinned at me. I gave him a smartass wink and a shake of my head to say that wasn’t happening.

“Kyle is sweet and I love him because he is my son but that boy would annoy the crap out of me! Besides, he can’t even take care of a gerbil. I would hate to be the dog that depended on him for a walk!” I chuckled at my husband’s joke.

Prior to this new arrangement we seldom talked about anything going on in the world. We never talked about politics, money, even celebrities. At work, I’d be lucky if he texted me a quick, “I love you”. Now, we were texting and talking all day long about BDSM training and things he wanted to do with me.

I had recently grown to better understand his interest in pain. I thought at first that Mike didn’t realize he was hurting me but eventually it occurred to me that he wanted me to endure pain for him as a test of my obedience. He also wanted me to learn from it when I made mistakes.

As an example, on this trip he pulled the car over and walked me into the woods and gave me ten swats just for forgetting to call him Sir. All it took was a few stops like that and I found I seldom forgot to call him Sir or Master. It really did help to reinforce the dynamics of our relationship. It was a temporary pain and usually after the endorphins kicked in, I found myself enjoying it. I realized the pain was the price I had to pay to participate. I began to accept that I would be receiving it at my husband’s discretion and even for his amusement.

I think on some level I wished he’d be rougher with me. I knew he loved me and he didn’t want to make me really suffer. I felt strange urges to atone for past choices I’ve made and sometimes I would intentionally fuck up so that he would punish me. I think about this time in our past a lot.

Master wasn’t being unkind or cruel. He was introducing me to the lifestyle in a phased approach. He was teaching me the core fundamentals of discipline and one of those is the application of pain – typically to the most intimate parts of my body. I was the one who was being manipulative because when I felt I wasn’t getting enough attention I would intentionally act out. In a way, I was being a spoiled child when I think back on it.

I had also grown to understand his interest in humiliation on this trip. As we talked about the things he wanted to make me do, I became more and more aware of what he was really trying to get out of it.

I told him on the drive down that I was much more comfortable fucking random strangers the further we were away from where we live. Mike liked to instruct me to give random blowjobs to guys. It made him feel powerful that he could order me to do it and I would. It made him feel superior to these men because he had such a desirable wife. I loved that about him!

As an example, on the ride to the reunion, we stopped at a gas station. It was on some lonely overpass in an old shopping center. I asked for permission to go to the bathroom and he gave it to me. He told me I had three minutes to finish. I came back quickly and excitedly said, “Master! You’ll never believe this! There is a glory hole in the bathroom! A real one! I thought I saw a dick sticking through a hole in the wall!”

He looked up at me in disbelief, as if he knew I had no idea what I was talking about. There was no one in the women’s bathroom at the time even though there were three stalls. He casually followed me inside and saw a penis head peeking through a hole. There were dirty words scrawled around the hole and this toilet looked filthy. Mike pulled my top down to expose my tits and cuffed my hands behind my back. He yanked my skirt down around my ankles and forced me to sit on a dirty toilet seat.

He pointed to the hole and told me that was going to be my lunch. Then he watched as I began sucking and loving this shriveled little old man’s dick on the other side of the wall. “If you run out of cocks to clean, you can lick this toilet,” Mike said as he shut the stall door. I heard him tell me he’d go have lunch and be back later.

It wasn’t like I was going to be able to go anywhere! The little old man couldn’t cum. He kept teasing me with his cock. I playfully accommodated him as he pushed it through the hole, in and out, entering my mouth each time. Eventually I heard someone else ask him if there was anyone on the other side.

“Yeah! I think it’s a real girl this time too!” the old man said.

“I am,” I answered without thinking.

Suddenly I heard some scuffling as he jerked the other guy out of position and the Hispanic-sounding guy stuck his flaccid, stinky penis through the hole. I felt like a total glory-hole whore while I serviced their dicks. It began to dawn on me that Mike enjoyed the ultimate power of making me degrade myself. At first, I wondered why he’d want to make me seem less sexy and more trashy. I also started to realize that to him, they were both the same thing.

The other thing I realized that afternoon as I sucked my third cock, was that the act did make me feel less proud and vain. I would have always thought I was simply too good to sit on a filthy toilet seat in a rundown women’s restroom and suck random dicks. I got genuinely excited when the third dick appeared! I felt LUCKY to get a new one. I was hoping I could make him cum as hard as the hispanic guy had, before Mike came back. I did make him cum. The guy on the other side sounded really young. Through the wall he thanked me and I told him the pleasure was all mine. I wondered if that was his first blowjob ever? Amazingly, I hadn’t lied either. The pleasure WAS mine!

Without a word, Mike stuck his dick in the hole after that. I knew it was his cock. I could have told him with my eyes closed that it was his dick, just from the feel of it in my mouth. I’d really come to know it well! “Hello Master, thank you for coming!” I snickered at my own joke then popped his cock back into my mouth and pushed myself forward until my lips contacted the nasty, graffitied wall. I shuddered in revulsion and pleasure.

“Karen? Karen Jones?” I heard someone in the stall next to me say my maiden name. I hadn’t heard her come in. She sounded outraged. “Is that you?” she barked derisively.

We were fairly close to the hotel. Was it possible that someone attending the reunion knew my voice? I didn’t say anything - I just kept slurping as if she hadn’t spoken. The woman waited a minute and scoffed, “I can hear you in there slurping on dicks! You should be ashamed of yourself, whoever you are!” she said as she left in a huff.

“You forgot to flush,” I called after she slammed the bathroom door shut.

I gave my husband the longest-lasting blowjob I possibly could. He had trained me to deep throat but also tease and nibble. I hadn’t always loved giving oral sex. I used to think it was only fair to give as much as you receive. Mike had been training me to be a good little cock sucker though and I was proud of my developing skills.

I made it last an especially long time though, because I didn’t want to leave the bathroom and come face to face with the woman who I knew was waiting outside for me! I learned another lesson about humiliation that day. It is far more intensely embarrassing when someone you might know, finds out you are doing something degrading. The adrenalin from the possibility of getting caught and being recognized electrified me in a way that I truly didn’t understand. It was the first of many times that I’d have that tingling sensation in my brain from doing something humiliating.

When I had first discovered the glory hole, I hadn’t felt that tingle. It was my idea to tell my husband and I basically suggested he leave me there. When it became his idea for me to stay for an hour, it felt like a task I had to complete and I felt far naughtier thinking I might get caught.

I will provide you with another example. Mike made me carry up all the bags to the hotel room including the collapsable dog cage. He told me to tip the bellman who insisted on following us because it was his luggage cart. Mike knew I was wearing only a simple half-top and micro miniskirt. He forbade me from wearing a bra or panties, so I looked like a total whore anyway. I had no money on me. I patted myself down like I was searching for money and told the guy I didn’t have anything on me, which was almost true. Nothing but a few wisps of cloth anyway!

The bellman politely nodded. He was likely used to being stiffed and wouldn’t make a scene. “You lost the twenty dollar bill I gave you to tip him?” Mike said as he laid on one of the beds in the room. He’d never given me a twenty dollar bill.

“Yes Sir, I did. I was being careless, I think,” I played along with him.

“It seems impolite for him to come all this way and get nothing. Why don’t you offer him a blowjob instead?” Master said casually as he flipped on the TV.

“Would you be okay with a BJ?” I asked the bellman. He seemed delighted but not entirely surprised. I wondered how many other sexy MILFs offered to suck his dick in exchange for a tip? I enjoyed flirting and I enjoyed the fact he liked me. I knelt in front of him at the door and pulled my top down to expose my tits. I took his cock out and began to suck it.

“Hands behind your back,” Master reminded me. He liked me to give head with just my face and not use my hands to jerk the guy off.

The guy took a while to cum. I think because my husband is a bear of a man and he probably intimidated him. He did cum though and when he finished in my mouth, he thanked me and quickly left. I stood up and walked over to my husband and held my mouth open triumphantly. He was filming me with his cell phone. I knew he wouldn’t show anyone, so I didn’t mind.

“Did I do well, Suh?” I said with my mouth still full of semen.

“You are supposed to get naked as soon as you enter the room,” he told me. I stripped while I held the bellman’s cum in my mouth. Mike made me stand outside on the balcony naked for twenty minutes holding my pussy flaps apart as a lesson. He told me not to swallow. It was a good thing we were on a high floor. I just hoped none of our neighbors walked out on their balconies to take in the sights.

I unpacked everything and set up the dog cage by one of the beds. I asked him why we had two beds instead of a King size.

“One is for fucking and one is for me,” He said that he expected the other bed would get covered in semen, sweat, and sex.

“You aren’t really going to try to make me fuck everybody at this hotel are you, Master?” I mused.

“You will fuck as many as I want you to. If any guy asks, you are going to tell him yes,” Master told me.

“If he asks me what, Sir?” I wanted clarification.

“Anything!” Master said I was to turn down no legitimate offer to suck, fuck, cuddle, make out, or get fingered. I felt so naughty and permissive. I didn’t think many guys would have the audacity to ask but I was willing to try it.

Mike spanked me and made me assume various slave positions for his amusement. He liked to make me perform jumping jacks so my tits bounced up and down in time with my ass. He liked to make me dance to rap music too. He knows my family is very racist even though I once dated a black guy.

“Can you imagine what your family would say if they saw you bumping and grinding to Thuggish, Ruggish, Bone?” Mike said as he read the name of the song from the Music channel on the Television.

I mostly swayed and jiggled my ass for him. “I’d imagine my brothers, Roy and Ken, would laugh their asses off,” I said. I started life in rural Pennsylvania. We didn’t have a lot of privacy in a small house and we used to skinny dip and all that back then. They used to call me Peaches when I was 13 and had immature b-cups. They started calling me Melons when I was 14 and started to blossom into the DDDs I have now. My butt was always big too. I was very self-conscious about my body because I thought I was fat. My parents and brothers used to tease that I’d make some ‘nigger man’ happy one day with a butt as fat as mine.

My father has passed away and my mom now has a new husband. She definitely wouldn’t approve of anything I was doing. She would have shamed me for being immoral - just for wearing a dog collar and dancing naked no matter what kind of music it was.

It was late afternoon when Mike suddenly said, “We should go to a strip club.”

Mike decided that was how we should spend our first evening at the Hotel. I no longer had any say in things. I might have suggested we go to some of the cocktail parties that were arranged for the people at the reunion. The main dance and banquet was scheduled for Saturday but I had been invited to two cocktail parties. They were with friends I didn’t really like though, so it was no real loss.

“That sounds ... different, Sir?” I tried not to look alarmed. My Mom had told me that one of my cousins was a stripper now. It made her a real black-sheep in the family. Everyone in my family looked down their noses at her. She apparently lived in a trashy mobile home with five kids. She sounded like she was always throwing tantrums and trying to borrow money or scam people. I was never really that close to her when we were growing up but she always struck me as a shy, conservative girl. It was really shocking to find out about her job.

I was hopeful that Mike wouldn’t choose the club she worked at or if he did, she wouldn’t recognize me. Master chose an outfit for me that I wouldn’t have worn out of my own home. Couldn’t have worn out. It was that indecent! The top barely covered my boobs and the bottoms of my butt cheeks were visible when I walked in the mini-skirt. He gave me some white stiletto heels and told me to bend over after I got dressed. I grabbed my ankles and let him inspect me. He liked to make sure that if I bent all the way over my butt plug could be easily seen.

I liked it when Master inspected me. He did it pretty frequently. He felt me up all over. He’d sometimes measure my nipples or body parts and usually finger fuck me. He told me he was checking to see how well I groomed myself and he was checking to see if I hid anything on my body. I told him I wouldn’t but he said that he wasn’t going to let me succumb to temptation. I figured it was all part of the game of Master and Slave we were playing.

This weekend was starting to feel less like a game and more like a new relationship. He walked me downstairs and through the main lobby. People stopped and stared at the slutty woman in a dog collar, walking ‘calmly’ behind her Master. I had my hands behind my back like they were cuffed but inside I was nothing but butterflies.

Mike told me to take ALL of my clothes off once we got into the car. “Master, we haven’t even left the parking lot yet! It’s still daylight outside!” I said.

“Those are two facts I didn’t ask for.” Master slapped me across my tits and told me to take off my clothes or he’d rip them off. I did as he said.

“You will ride completely naked from now on,” he told me. He told me to spread my legs and hold my pussy lips apart. He would alternate between me stretching my nipples or my pussy lips. I didn’t think they’d permanently get longer but he certainly did. I was mortified as we left the parking lot and people looked into the car. I knew they could see I was sitting in the front seat, at least topless.

When he said I would wear no clothes in the car from now on I assumed he meant just for this weekend. It still seemed pretty shocking! What would I do if the cops pulled us over? Or we stopped at a red light next to a school bus? Mike told me there were no school buses at this hour of the day and reminded me of his concession about someone complaining.

I held my pussy flaps open the entire way to what I later found out was the only strip club in town. It was a pretty long drive and it was dark by the time we arrived. Morey’s looked like a typical strip slash dive bar. I had worked in one as a waitress before I met Mike so I had a pretty good idea of how these places worked. The dancers were always ruthless bitches who used men like ATM machines and frequently got into fights with each other. I didn’t want to end up like one of them even though I could have very easily imagined myself doing that too, if I had continued at that job.