Owning My Image
Copyright© 2021 by INtrinSicliValud
Chapter 24
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 24 - Struggling middle-class parents, Laura and Dave need money. While working at a conference, she receives a business proposition - benefit from her looks as a website model. However, as her new career expands, she struggles to control her newfound desires, and the elastic bonds of love stretch ever tighter.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual Heterosexual Rags To Riches Slut Wife Wife Watching Gang Bang Interracial Black Male Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism Masturbation Oral Sex
Over the following weeks, avoiding calls and texts from everyone, Dave and I focused on each other. Like newlyweds once more, we explored each other’s new roles. To the outside world, we were the same, although Allen commented on my happiness. However, my husband and I had changed so much, but together this time.
One of the most important things we changed was our routine. As we experimented, I discovered the exhilaration of trying different experiences. Most especially, I learned to trust Dave. He had such an imagination. As I bounced naked in his lap, impaled like a good little slut, we did plenty of internet research. That way, nothing was a total surprise to me.
Every morning, cries would escape me as he settled the cutest golden clamps around my nipples. Tiny butterflies and flowers adorned their solid jaws. A thread-thin gilded chain connected them. With a loving grin, he would gaze into my eyes, rub and kiss my achy stems until the pain slipped away into lofty pillows of pleasure. Our lips would come together, and he’d hold me, arching into him as he glided the final set of jaws onto my clit. From that one, another pair of slender chains led to those clasping my stiff throbbing stems.
Yeah, that had taken a while to get used to, but with him taking his time and caressing me, we’d muddled through. Although he bore quite a few bite marks and nail scratches. Horny house cats could be that way when first clamped. Talk about overstimulation? Whew.
He realized I was ready for the next step when I settled to gnaw his bare chest, which had become tighter and more defined, like the rest of him. While with the boys, he’d spent a lot of time accompanying them on their outdoor activities. And since his return, he was working out and running every day. While he’d never be as large as the men we both knew I’d grown to crave, he did his best. And I loved him for it.
Once the initial pain from the clamps had subsided, he would hold me until I nodded. Then, while holding me tight, he’d sink the lube-coated plug part of the new toy into my little rosebud before gliding its helmeted friend into my slit. Inevitably, a shaky moan escaped as the bulbous silicon snuggled into my g-spot and the cutest chuckle would leave him.
Even as I dressed, he’d smile at me and slide his fingers along the app on his phone. In both twitching orifices, slow, random vibrations began. Only then was I ready for the day, for him, for my love. As I finished preparing for work, chewing on my lips and squirming, I’d flash a tight grin at him.
And each morning, as we kissed goodbye, he would pull his mouth from mine and stare deep into my wide eyes as I moaned.
“Whose slut are you?” he’d ask.
“Yours, sir.”
Every single time I gave that reply, my heart raced, waiting for his fingertips to drag over the lace taut across my pulsating mound. And, with a smile, he’d press in on the tight metal clamp, sending me swaying forward. Duh, my loving husband knew exactly what turned me on.
“Good slut.” A final tap of the clamp ripped a groan from my quivering lips. “Have a nice day.”
God, would I ever have such very nice days, working in a continuous state of arousal for him—for my beloved hubby. During long meetings, Allen shot me puzzled looks, but I only smiled while clenching my thighs tighter. For those events, I’d text, begging Dave to rev me up and toy with me to keep me amused.
Along with the constant vibrations inside me, the chains running from the nipple stems to my clit pulled taut whenever my waistband tugged on them during the day. Together, the luscious sensations drove me ever closer to bliss. By the end of the workday, I was clenching my teeth so tight my jaw ached all the way home.
Also, since money was no longer an issue, we used the naughty teacher outfit as a basis to adjust my office attire. Plus, Dave insisted on shelf bras, so my clamped nipples were prominent. But that was only if he allowed me to wear a bra at all. In either case, most of my tops were thin enough to display the golden clips and the swinging gold chain between them. Yes, I received a lot of furtive glances. And plenty of stares. No, I didn’t care.
Of course, Allen was beside himself as I sashayed around, showing far more of myself than ever before. As Dave’s little slut, I made a point of ensuring I was on display all day long. Hell, I sent him pictures, even when he didn’t ask for them. Ogling eyes of clients and coworkers tracked my every movement, and more than a few hands “accidentally” glided over me.
Even Allen’s wife reacted, although her response surprised me. When I told Dave that Sheila had arched into me as I slid past her, he chuckled. “I figured as much.”
Each night, as soon as I got home, I stripped to my underwear and placed the leather “SLUT” collar around my neck. After preparing dinner, I’d kneel, awaiting his return. Sometimes, he’d turn up the power and randomness as he drove, other times not. Either way, when the door opened, his smile down at me warmed my heart. The gentle strokes of his fingers along my cheeks had me trembling.
Heart hammering, I’d grin at him with clenched teeth, knowing we’d soon begin our evening ritual.
“Were you a good slut today?” he’d ask, his digits skimming under my quivering chin, lifting me to stare through my hair at his grinning face.
“Yes, sir.” My hand roamed his wiry arm.
“Did you come?” As he asked, he would run a finger around the collar while gazing into my soul. And wow, did his beautiful eyes ever twinkle.
“No, sir,” I’d respond while shaking my head.
“Good little slut.” He’d latch the finger into the golden ring and twist it tight as my heart raced.
While keeping my face turned to his, I’d plant kisses along his forearm. After everything else that had happened, the ember within me glowed. Yes, more than anything in the world, I liked that—being my husband’s good little slut.
After he’d gone upstairs to change, I’d place out our dinner. His on the table and mine by his feet. As we ate, he’d give gentle tugs on a new, thicker golden leash. That one ran through the collar’s loop and connected to the taut chains attached to the clips across my squirming frame. The device within me still whirred. Between the constant tugging and vibrations, I moaned and writhed until we’d finished.
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