Chapter 18: A Special Dinner

"Shit!" I looked at my watch and then pushed down on the accelerator. I was running late. The checkout line at the grocery story had been agonizingly slow.

Just last week, Janice had started demanding fresh, homemade dinners every night. That meant stopping at the grocery store every day to buy ingredients. Yet another burden added to my already hectic daily life.

"Step on it!" I shouted at the driver in front of me.

I knew that Janice would not be pleased if her meal was late. Her new "a spank per minute" policy made that abundantly clear. I lived in fear of being made to bend over and bare my bottom for one of my "corrective measures". Just two days ago I was a full 28 minutes late with dinner. I could barely sleep that night, the pain was so bad.

Finally I pulled the car into the driveway.

A lot had changed in just the two months since I gave into Janice and we went on our shopping trip to the mall.

As just one example, I now no longer parked in the garage. My spot in the garage was now taken up by Janice's new sports car (she kept her old car for when it rained).

After dropping the groceries off on the kitchen countertop, I raced to the bedroom, removing my shirt and tie as I went. I stripped down to bra, panties, garter, and stockings and threw all of my male clothes into the hamper. After inserting a pair of breast forms into the cups of my bra, I moved to quickly do my makeup.

Breast forms. I now wore them 24x7 while in the house. "Good wives proudly display their natural assets for their husbands at all times," Janice said.

I sat down at the small dressing table and mirror which Janice had purchased for me. I quickly applied foundation and blush. Since laser hair removal, applying makeup had become about 100 times easier and better looking. My entire face was now hair free, and the clinician was now working on my back and chest.

Eyeliner, mascara, eye shadow, tweeze a few stray eyebrow hairs - every week my eyebrows seemed to get even thinner and more arching - lip liner, lipstick, perfume ... done.

I quickly got up and went to the closet. Now was the moment of truth. Even after two months I still got butterflies. This is when I would find out what Janice had picked out for me to wear that night.

I unzipped the plastic garment bag.

Wow, elegant. A short black chiffon cocktail dress with an inner layer of black acetate and a filmy silk chiffon cover with ruffled edges around the neck, sleeves, and hem.

No wonder I had been made to wear black bra and panties that morning -- under my white dress shirt. Was it all part of Janice's master plan? So my office coworkers could see my bra beneath my shirt? I barely even raised an objection anymore.

5:20pm. Time was running out. I quickly slipped on the dress, shivering with delight as it slipped sensuously over my skin.

I looked in the garment bag and found a pair of shoes: 3 inch (8cm) black pumps. I held up the shoes and inspected them. High heels! I had been asking Janice to let me wear high heels for weeks now, but she had resolutely refused. "Wives do not wear high heels around the house," she had said, her tone allowing for no debate.

I wondered if someday I might wear strapy heals? But Janice liked me wearing stockings and garters, so I guess I would be destined to wear pumps for a long time to come. Maybe forever. I stepped into my new shoes.

My body tingled. High heels for the first time! My cock shifted uncomfortably in its confining and clutching silk prison. Why tonight? Why was Janice allowing me to wear high heels tonight?

After putting on my accessories (gold ankle bracelet, pearl necklace - that's why I had to wear pearl earrings all day, I realized) I rushed into the kitchen as quickly as I could, my heels clack-clacking on the hardwood floors.

I donned an apron and began to cook. Tonight it would be curried chicken in puff pastry with cooked carrots on the side. I would have to be careful that none of the ingredients - especially the flour - ended up on my dress.

I had made this dish before, but Janice decided that I could 'do better' and so commanded me to make it again a week later. I was under the gun to make it perfect this time, or for-sure I would be spanked ... or worse.

As I worked, I reflected on what Janice had chosen for me to wear this evening. Why heels for the first time? Why no girdle, or waist cinch, or corset?

Most of the dresses I had been made to wear were standard "wifely" uniforms. Practical, 60's style, June Cleaver dresses, modest, old-fashioned, and with skirts below the knee. House dresses.

And they were all great. Wearing them, I realized that I love wearing dresses, and slips, and corsets, and garters. Often I would stop and just look at myself in the mirror, stroking my hands over my body, cupping my breasts, admiring my figure.

But tonight's dress was something special. It was new, modern, and fancy. All of the other dresses had been more casual. This one was dressy.

So, what was up?

"Well hello, honey, don't you look nice?" Janice said as she stepped through the door.

"Thank you," I said, my eyes lowered to the floor. I had been waiting by the door for her to step on to the front porch, so I could open it for her.

Janice put her briefcase and jacket down on the hallway bench and then lifted her skirt.

This was my cue. I sank to my knees, careful to lift my own skirt so that I would kneel directly on the floor, and then rested my nose against her panty-covered crotch.

I began my new, wifely oath. "I solemnly swear to be the best wife that I can be," I paused for a second. Her panty crotch was soaking wet! It absolutely reeked of sex. Was she masturbating at work? Or maybe ... was she cheating on me?

"Yes?" Janice prompted. "You're not done."

"Uh..." I hesitated. Should I confront her about the smell?

"Uh ... Right," I continued. " ... and I will strive with every fiber of my soul to provide a warm, clean, tranquil, and hospitable home and I will do so with grace, good humor, and an honest desire to please. I will always be open to suggestions for improvement, and will sincerely accept any advice or criticisms with an open heart and an honest desire for to do better."

"Furthermore..."

Okay, so she wanted the full oath today. I nestled my nose deeper into her wet and sopping crotch.

"Furthermore," I continued, "I give my life over to my husband Janice, fully and without reservation. I trust my husband to make all decisions regarding our life together and I will accept any request or command my husband makes without question or debate. My life is no longer my own, and I accept a fully subservient role to my husband's wishes, desires, and goals."

"And finally..." Janice placed her hands on my head, pushing me even more firmly against her wet, panty-covered pussy.

I breath deeply through my nose, inhaling the pungent scent. "And finally, I realize that punishment is a necessary part of my role as wife. I desire punishment, because it helps me to realize my proper role, and further helps to purge any guilt which may arise from any transgressions, intentional or accidental, which may occur as I execute my duties."

I was now very hard and erect. Saying the full oath while kneeling in front of my wife never failed to do that. Maybe this was my proper place in life? Kneeling before a demanding woman?

"Very good," Janice said, warmly. "Now I'm sure you noticed that things are a bit messy down there."

I nodded my head.

"And that's not good, is it?"

I shook my head.

"Exactly. And you want to help, don't you?"

I nodded my head.

"Good girl. Of course you do. Oh hey, I know what you can do! Take down my panties, and then clean me up with your tongue. I would so very much appreciate if you could do that for me."

I looked up at her in surprise.

"Come now," Janice gently admonished me, "remember your oath."

I slipped two fingers into the waistband of her panties and gradually slid them down her legs. Janice stepped out of the panties and kicked them aside, and then, still holding her skirt up, she adopted a wider stance, her wet, glistening pussy just inches away from my face.

I looked carefully for signs of sperm, but there was nothing definitive. Her entire bush was just one wet, sticky mess, with the hair matted down.

"Let's get going!"

"Yes, my husband," I said, humbly.

And so I stuck out my tongue, moved in closer, and began to clean her up. Did it smell like sperm? Maybe ... but I couldn't tell for sure.

"And don't forget to swallow," Janice said, with a little giggle.

And so like a cat, I licked and swallowed, licked and swallowed. First making sure she was clean on the outside (swallowing pubic hair all the while) and then probing deeper, using my tongue as a scoop to get all of the juices out and down my throat.

"Hmmmm ... very nice," Janice sighed, contentedly.

After a few more minutes, she pushed me gently away. Lifting my chin, she looked me in the eyes.

"There's something else I'd like for you to do for me - a new form of body worship. Will you do it?"

"Uh ... sure ... what would you like?" I asked, hesitantly.

"No questions!" she said, sharply. Then, more softly, "will you do it? This will be come a new form of worship which I would like to add to our daily greeting. Now say yes, because you know you have to."

I looked her in the eyes. "Yes, my husband."

"Say 'yes' because you love me and trust me."

"Yes, because I love you and trust you always, my husband, with all my heart and soul."

She smiled at my heartfelt additions. "Very good." Janice turned around so that she was facing away from me, then lifted her skirt and presented her bare bottom.

"I want you to use your hands to separate my ass cheeks, and then I want you to place a nice wet kiss on my anus."

I gasped. This was the very first time we had engaged in anal play of any kind. Janice was definitely taking us to a new level. Was I ready for it? Where would it end?