Chapter 7

As Told By Karen McGifford

Mike had chosen a dress for me that was going to be a head turner for sure. A grey skimpy satin minidress, side drawstrings strappy back with a lot of cleavage in the front. No panties or bra and worn with high heels. I had my shiny new collar around my neck. It looked a little like a necklace but it was so thick I felt it was pretty obvious it was a collar. It certainly FELT like a collar and it was a wonderful, constant reminder to me.

Mike joked that he might permit me to transfer my Pandora bracelet charms to the hoop in the front of the collar. I am notoriously hard to buy gifts for so my family tends to give me Pandora charms. I’ve got several bracelets weighted down with various charms. Then he suggested nipple and cunt-hole hoops to hold the rest.

I imagined myself jingling around the house with all sorts of charms hanging from hoops through my nipples and cunt and one of the kids asking where the sounds were coming from if I wasn’t wearing my bracelets. I giggled at his playful comments.

Mike was all dressed up too. He looked so handsome in his grey pinstriped suit with a deep red tie that perfectly complimented my dress. I admit that other than being nervous to be seen in public dressed like that, I easily imagined we were movie stars headed to an important Hollywood premier. Just as my husband’s slave and not a Hollywood starlet.

Mike also chose tonight to introduce me to a larger stainless steel butt plug that was considerably larger than the one I had worn before. He briefly showed it to me when he removed it from its packaging but I became intimately familiar with it that evening. It had a fake crystal “jewel” that would be visible to anyone who happened to be peeking up my short skirt because it was big enough that no amount of clenching my butt cheeks would hide it.

Mike spit on it and pushed it in without so much as warning me first. He was being very ruthless and strict this weekend. I have to admit that a part of me really liked Mike this way. He seemed so confident and sure of himself.

The other part of me wondered how this would translate when the weekend was over. Was he going to keep treating me like a fuck-doll and a pet? I could imagine instead of going out to a special dinner on our wedding anniversary, my husband would tell me he’d ALLOW me to eat with my fingers behind the restaurant dumpster IF I sucked off all the waiters and busboys first and let them jerk off into the leftovers he let me have.

It was a degrading, humiliating fantasy and it was strangely arousing. I wiggled my ass for my husband and clapped my cheeks together a few times. I told him I was just testing to make sure my new plug didn’t slide out on the dance floor but I really wanted to assure myself that I COULD still clap my butt cheeks the way he loved so much. He chuckled and slapped my ass and said that I wasn’t permitted to pick it up with my hands if it did fall out.

I had intentionally tried not to argue with my husband this weekend. When he told me new rules like riding in the car naked all the time or that we’d be setting the dog cage up at home for me, I just smiled and nodded. I didn’t want to spoil the weekend by explaining that in reality that may not be possible. I didn’t want to seem disobedient or ruin the fantasy for him. This time I couldn’t help myself. I asked how I could possibly pick it up then...

“I don’t want you touching your butt plug without permission. You will ask or beg to have it removed. You will bend over and hold it with your teeth while it is out of your ass. You will bend over and set it flat on the ground and then lower your ass down on it, clench your asshole around it and stand back up,” Mike told me his new rule.

“What if no one is around, Sir?” I was almost smirking at the impossibility of this new rule.

“You will get my permission to remove it at approved shitting times or to train your asshole. You will promptly remove it and put it on the floor then pick it up again. We’ll practice at home with and without heels,” Mike slapped me on the butt again.

I had taken it up the ass enough today that the plug barely bothered me. I certainly felt it and I could not have accommodated a plug this bug a few short weeks ago, although I was beginning to appreciate that my asshole really was more elastic than I’d previously thought.

My cunt and asshole was still slick from fucking and being in the cage half the day. My body was still electrified from unfulfilled desires and fantasies borne from being locked up in the cage. I was actually looking forward to the reunion. I knew Mike intended for me to fuck as many of my former classmates as I possibly could and for the first time, I began to think I too might be ready to fully realize his wishes. The more sex my husband demanded I have, the more sex my body seemed to want.

I’d accepted that this was going to happen and that it was too late to get cold feet now. Mike was fantastic about sensing when I was about to get cold feet, though. He’d quickly intervene by throwing me in the deep end the moment he noticed the nervous look spread across my face.

When we got into the elevator he instructed me to lift my skirt in the back all the way up. He said just because I looked sexy he didn’t want me putting on fancy airs. I didn’t see myself possibly putting on airs because I felt like I looked trashy. This was something Pamela Anderson or Miley Cyrus would probably wear to get attention.

I looked at him like he couldn’t be serious. I was ready to pretend to actually do as he’d told me, just to call his bluff although I never intended to REALLY do it. He slapped my ass hard and told me if I didn’t want the skirt raised all night I would stop hesitating and second guessing his orders. I should have known better than to think he was joking about exposing myself even though we were alone.

Putting thoughts of security cameras in elevators out of my head, I delicately lifted my skirt up and let it bunch on the top of my bubble butt. I stood with my legs apart in the elevator as my nerves overtook me. It was strange how this fresh new humiliation made sex with people at the reunion seem less shocking to me.

“What if someone gets on the elevator with us, Master?” I asked.

“Then you will calmly wait until they say something. If they do, then you can say that it was an accident and thank them politely while you drop the skirt. If not, then you will walk off this elevator with me and I will fix your skirt for you before you walk into the banquet,” he said.

We had seven floors left to go when the elevator stopped. I looked at Master with fear in my eyes. Was he really going to make me go through with this? The look on his face was all the confirmation I needed. I prepared myself for an elevator full of my former classmates and to be shocked before I even set foot in the reunion ballroom.

Instead of partygoers, two mischievous kids stepped on to the elevator. They immediately pressed the buttons for every floor and giggled. It was a boy and a girl and they weren’t much older than Kyle. I was mortified. My face turned ash instead of red as I stood there with my skirt pulled up so that my entire ass was bare. I was only fortunate that I was facing forward and they didn’t notice right away. I tried not to think about how angry I might have been if a woman my age showed Kyle her ass in an elevator.

The kids giggled and whispered to each other as we stopped on each floor. I continued to look at Master for a sign that he would permit me to drop the dress but his expression suggested I continue on. It felt like forever as we stopped on each of the floors before the floor the banquet was on. I just knew the kids were pointing at me and giggling. I tried not to make eye contact.

The cleavage on my dress and the high skirt made me look pretty trashy but there was no way they didn’t notice the skirt was pulled up in the back even if they weren’t standing behind me. “Hey Lady, you know your skirt is up right?” the giggling girl said as the two of them hopped off right before our floor. I was mortified but they had already seen me. The damage was done. They both knew what butts looked like. I felt guilty and embarrassed but it was over now.

I pulled my skirt down and said with a grin of triumph, “I got my first complaint! I guess that means you won’t make me do anything humiliating in the elevator again, right Master?”

“No, she didn’t complain at all. The girl just pointed out that you accidentally left your skirt flipped up. You were entitled to pull it back down even though she got off before our floor. If she had complained then I wouldn’t expose you like that to HER again. It doesn’t mean I won’t expose you to others in the same manner,” Master clarified that rule. No one had ever really complained before when he made me dress sexy or expose myself. The only time I came close was at my daughter’s car wash and we left before that woman could get us kicked out.

“I need some wine to do this, Master” I said it half as a joke and more as a request.

“I don’t think you need it that badly. If you did you would learn that you must politely beg any privilege and be more obedient,” Master said. I begged him, pouted and rubbed my tits against his suit. “You can have one glass of wine for every five people you have sex with,” he said.

“Do blowjobs count as sex?” I was jokingly asking when the elevator door slid open. A gaggle of former classmates saw me hanging on my husband’s arm and essentially dry humping him while I asked him about blowjobs. I smiled at everyone and turned a bright shade of red.

“It is good to see the blood coming back to your face, Honey” Mike said as he patted my bottom and told me that blowjobs count as sex but that I needed to show him the cum when I finish before I swallow, to get credit.

The name Honey really didn’t mean anything to me. It didn’t feel like MY name. My cousin told me she could be Cheyenne in the strip club and separate her Angie persona from the things she did as Cheyenne. She told me the name allowed her to take on new personality traits and behaviors while she was at the club and she used that to get over her shyness.

Honey was just a random name given to me by some cheesy DJ. It didn’t feel like my name at all. I did have blonde hair and I was extremely sticky but I didn’t feel like I was sweet like Honey. I didn’t want to be sweet. I was to be my husband’s whore tonight and if I was going to do this, I thought my name should be Pinot Grigio or something to help me get me into the right mindset.

Honey just wasn’t connecting with me. I may as well have been called Bob because of the way my head looked while I gave head. I doubted my husband would have agreed to call me Bob though!

Kathy Jordan was one of the women who saw me at the pool today. She was clearly still an uptight, gossip and a busybody just like she’d been back in high school. She was sitting at the sign-in table checking people in. Kathy was always the kind of girl who liked to do extra-credit and be in charge of things. It made sense she’d waste her time at the check-in table instead of mingling with the others.

“Here’s your name tag, Karen,” Kathy said as she checked our names off her list and handed me a generic name tag and a marker to write my own name with.

I would usually have complained that buying tickets should have covered having our names pre-printed on our tags, but for some reason, that thought didn’t occur to me until much later. It was as if my bitch-side really was being overwhelmed by Mike’s training.

Kathy coolly informed me that the section under the name was to write something people can ask you about. “Ask me about opportunities selling Advocare,” she pointed to her name tag as an example.

I bent over at the table and let my skirt ride up a little. I felt what I assumed was Mike’s hand on my buttocks and I wiggled my butt slightly. I took a breath, wrote the name HONEY and under it wrote, “Ask me about having sex with me!” on it.

I couldn’t remember a time I’d been so blatant about sex since starting my training but Kathy seemed to think what I’d printed was how I was all the time. If anyone should have known better, it should have been her! Then I remembered the pool.

“You would,” Kathy sneered at me.

Karen would have taken that as an invitation to give her my best verbal takedown but I was Honey at my husband’s decree tonight, so I struck back in a different way. “Yes, I would, even with you, Ma’am,” I replied politely, stuck my tongue out and flicked it like I was eating pussy.

Betty was the first girl I had been with since I started domestic discipline with my husband. I had experimented a lot when I was younger, back when I worked as a cocktail waitress. I knew how to do things to a woman that she likes in a way that she likes it. I would have even bitten the bullet and licked Karen’s dusty old pussy if it meant I could have some more wine. That thought made me wonder if Master would count girl goo as cum when I showed him!

Despite my saucy invitation to Karen that I didn’t doubt would be ignored, I was a bundle of nerves and nervous energy. I felt like all eyes were on me. I stood up and was about to put my arm around my husband when I realized the guy that had been rubbing my ass wasn’t him at all.

“Oh! I thought you were my husband,” I smiled at the rat-faced man politely. He had a perpetual slouch and a grating laugh. I didn’t recognize him from Adam but he certainly recognized me.

“Hah!” he said as he took a name tag and began writing his name. I immediately knew who he was once he started to write his name. His name was Philbert Head. He was extremely nerdy and he’d had a huge crush on me in high school. I used to call him Herpes because he simply would not go away no matter how clear I made it that I wasn’t interested.

I’d been particularly cruel to him but in my defense, only because he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I once told him I’d go to prom with him and then stood him up. I didn’t just stand him up though – I let him come over and meet my real date. I even asked if he would give us a ride in the limo he’d rented. I hurt him because he’d long since become annoying and I wanted him to leave me alone.

“Honey? You can’t fool me! You are Karen Jones!” his laugh grated on my nerves. “You’d be Karen Head today if you had taken me up on my offer to marry you!”

“Yes, I would,” I looked for my husband in order to get away from this annoying little turd. Once again he wanted my attention. It was like no time at all had passed since high school. He immediately decided to stick to me like dog shit on a shoe.

He was still as persistent as ever too. He tried to catch up with me about what I’d been doing. He already knew all of my kids names and what I had been doing because he had been stalking me on Facebook.

“Oh yes, that’s right. You sent a friend request. I rarely get on.” It was technically true at home now. Facebook was almost exclusively reserved for my working days while I was between appointments at school, so no more than an average of an hour a day. “I must have forgotten to accept it,” I said. I didn’t feel like he deserved the title Sir and I wasn’t going to say it to him. Mike would never know, and I liked the feeling of rebellion.

“You have your cell phone? You could accept it right now,” Philbert looked excited at the prospect of me pulling my phone out and adding him right away.

“Well, let me check with my HUSBAND first,” I tried to simultaneously avoid him and mention that I have a husband a few more times, in the hope that would stop him from following me around. Philbert hadn’t given up an ounce of his persistence.

Mike had a glass of wine for me when I finally found him. I guzzled the wine down. Mike told me right in front of Philbert that the wine was on credit. He said that I owed him five good fucks. He seemed delighted Philbert was so interested in me.

I’ve mentioned Philbert was fascinated with me. I should have said ‘pathologically obsessed’ because that would have been a better description. He probably would have sniffed my farts and thought they were bouquets.

I don’t know why but I hated the fact that he put me on a pedestal. I think it is because I have long blonde hair and curves that he made me out to be some kind of heavenly angel. Mike played a little cat and mouse with Philbert and asked him about my past. He had to be able to see how much I detested the cretin and he was prolonging Philbert’s presence on purpose!

Philbert made it sound like I wasn’t that mean to him at all – that I was just playing hard to get but my husband wasn’t buying it. Mike knew that I had been a vindictive little shit to him. It goes without saying it was deeply humiliating for your husband to talk to a boy who had a high school crush on you. They can compare notes and laugh about how you gave him the runaround back in those days.

“Philbert, my wife is trying to atone for her past. I know she treated you badly. She was rude, selfish, vain and made fun of you. It’s clear she didn’t like nice guys and you seem to be a nice guy who never gave up. I can appreciate that. How can she make it up to you?” he asked. I knew where this was going. I mentally slapped myself and wished I had more wine.

“That’s water under the bridge! I’m just happy to reconnect! I sometimes wish she had been my wife. Instead, I thrust myself into my work. I built an Internet Start Up in the 1990s and sold it for a hefty price but I would have given that all up for the love of a good woman like her. I know you say she was cruel but she was just testing me. I didn’t measure up back then,” Philbert said. He looked hurt and I finally felt sorry for him.

Master told him that I was trying to change my ways and asked for his help. He told Philbert that he was using extreme therapy to help me get over my attitude. Mike invited Philbert back to our room and said what he wanted to show him might shock him but it was necessary. I gripped the table and bit my lip.

Philbert was completely on board with immersing himself in our lives but he could only sing my praises and say what a fantastic person I was.

“Philbert, I am going to have to ask you to stop doing that. My wife is selfish with her time, her body, her affection and offering her approval. She looks down her nose at people like you. Don’t you, Honey?” Mike said as he walked me out of the reunion. We were early anyway and nothing much was happening.

“Yes Sir,” I answered him.

“I make her call all men Sir. I don’t want her to disrespect them. Did she call you Sir when she met you?” Mike asked him as we headed to the elevator. Philbert told him I didn’t but shrugged that it wasn’t a big deal.

“Au Contraire, Philbert. You see when my wife is unsupervised and left to make her own choices she doesn’t think she has consequences. I always find out when she has been naughty though. If I let her be a brat then she is her natural crabby self. If I impose consequences on her, she behaves,” Mike said as we entered the elevator.