Chapter 1 - Sex

 

Life with Miriam was ideal, we had the same ideas about sex; we liked to play. This evening was my turn to be handcuffed to the bed, but what she had in store for me, I had no idea.

She left the bedroom once I was fixed in place.

I could hear the rustling of clothes. It was like every item having bells on it. Funny way of making undressing out of the room sexy, it was as if every item had bells on it.

That was her dress, now her underskirt, that one was small, only a slight rustle, her bra perhaps, her panties next, again only a slight rustle. Those two could be her stockings and suspender belt, no; the belt is less of a rustle. That one was her suspender belt.

Then silence, as she dressed again and the pensive wait for the grand entrance.

Today she was a police officer. "My, you have been a busy lad, haven't you? Three shops you broke into and robbed. I must say I liked the last one, nothing in the till so you took six pairs of panties and matching bras, kinky.

Do you put a different set on each day?" she asked me, cocking her head to one side, enquiringly.

"Fuck off; I sold them to kinky females like you. I thought you would like the peek-a-boo set, being crotchless as well," I replied.

"Interesting. you even thought about me: that was so nice of you, now the confession. I take it you are willing to confess, aren't you? To the robberies, not being a kinky male, that is? Why rob a ladies lingerie store?" she asked me.

"Why not? they have money in the till, usually; mind you I'm not saying I robbed the stores you say, I did. Just that in answer to the question you posed, usually the money is on the premises and the person robbing them, not me, has just to find it," I said.

"I see: you are not admitting to the robberies we know you committed, perhaps, you need persuading confession is good for the soul?" she asked.

It was not scripted; we just said whatever came to mind understanding the situation. For tonight I was a robber who had robbed two stores and a lingerie store. What the other two were I didn't know, yet.

This was where the fun began: what was she going to use to encourage me to confess, CBT, Nipple play, or suffocation. This was where she sat on my lips and moved a fraction forward, suffocating me with her clit, but she needed answers, so it would not be suffocation.

I was wrong, she came to the bed smiling and got on, then settled on my chest. She applied the nipple clamps and then put the chains under her and over her shoulders. She moved forward and then settled with her damp, naked clit on my lips.

"Now you have a problem: you cannot speak until you confess. I will apply a means to encourage you to confess, on your nipples. What are you going to do? Admit your crimes before I gag you with my clit, or wait to make sure it isn't just a threat and feel what it is like to suffocate. I admit it is one hell of a way to go, suffocated by a clit and with ensuring that she was in just the right place for me to stuff my tongue up her, and cover my nose at the same time.

The worst part was yet to come, she pulled the nipple clamps gently to her, but I felt the pain a lot, a lot more than she understood. Her nipples were proud, large and very nice to fondle, but seemed to feel no pain, when I used them on her last week. Mine on the other hand were very, sensitive.

She rubbed her clit into my mouth, enjoying the feeling of power and eroticism at the actions of being in control, with my tongue delving into her hard and fast, feeling for the elusive G spot. I was now entering her fully, deep into her as she wriggled about on top of me.

"Argh, no, no, mercy, no, I-I confess, I-I confess," I said, rather mumbled, delving into her as she pulled on my nipples agonisingly.

She turned and removed the clamps. "That was too easy, keep that tongue up and allow me to ride it. Confession is good for the soul, but a tongue up me is far, far better. It is almost as good as, a cock.

"For giving in too easily, you will be my slave for a week, do you agree?" Miriam asked me.

"Yes," I said.

She moved forward a touch, suffocating me again, "I said, stuff that tongue up me, now do it, slave. Better," she said once my tongue was fully engaged again.

"Now without removing your tongue do you agree to being my slave for a week?" she asked me again.

"Y-Yesh," I said, with difficulty.

"Better, oh, oh, hang on, ah, yes, yes, yes, more," she said squirting into my mouth as she had her orgasm.

"Why doing it like this makes me randy, I will never know, but it is easier for you, because I orgasm quicker. Give, give me two to make up for it being so quick. Hum, hum that is so, nice, it is just such a pity that I can't have you attached to my clit, making me cum from dawn to dusk with your tongue up me.

Ah, yes, yes, yes, seconds, lovely," she said.

She smiled at me as I lay there panting, and my tongue aching from being up her, unable to move, she was good at fixing you in place.

Just think, slave, we have a full week together, with you being my slave, for the week. It was lucky that we both managed to get the same week off work. It was also fortuitous that it was my week; to be on top. With you suffering under my rule, it will be even better with you, not just under my rule in bed, but all week, as my slave, day and night.

Did you know that net curtains allow you to see outside, but outsiders can't see in? It is because of the light. Outside is lighter than inside, so conversely at night they can see in, because it is dark outside, but the light is on inside. This means that making you accept the net curtains, I can dress you as I desire and I will make sure the curtains are closed at night to avoid your blushes," she told me.

I had wondered what the carrier bag contained earlier this week, when she came home with it and why she was so keen to be on top, it was had been her period which curtailed our fun somewhat. We could play, but her cunt was out of bounds and that was my week on top in our sexual activities, so I missed out.

To avoid it always being me that missed out, we alternated the weeks, with her doing two weeks on top, then I did the next month. This month I had lost out and she had been planning this week. I am sure it was for the whole of the month. It was after all my birthday this week, so this was part of her present to me.

"I see the tiger is out of its cage, shall we put it back? First, we need to trap it. Lie still," she told me. She slipped and then lifted up; smiled and aimed her clit, then descended slowly.

The tip of my cock was now touching her Mount Venus at the entrance to her haven.

"Slowly, slowly, catch a monkey," she said, looking down as if waiting for the right moment to pounce.

She pushed down an inch, allowing the tip to enter her and then rammed me all in, landing hard on my groin, making me pant with the force.

"There, we have the tiger in the trap, oh, oh, it is trying to escape," she said, lifting up slowly and then down again, encasing my cock inside her cunt fully.

She then began the up and down, long, slow strokes, as she brought herself to the boil, not that it needed much, after two orgasms on my lips.

She rose and fell, long and slow, for half a dozen movements before she began to ram me in her cunt, hard and fast. She was too worked up to keep the slow rise and falls up for long. She was ramming me in hard and fast now, our thighs slapped as she crashed into mine. She put her hands to her tits and crushed them with her euphoria as she rose quickly to her next orgasm. I knew when she climaxed, she squirted onto my groin without slowing; ramming me for all she was worth, expecting more orgasms. She had another orgasm as I was nearing my climax. unable to hold on any longer. She managed two more before I shot my load into her.

"Not bad for a first attempt, the teacher says, can do better and will do," she said, laughing.

"A week of pleasing me, what will happen when it is my birthday week? Two whole weeks of pleasing just me as my slave, you know you like me controlling you, don't you?" she asked, smiling at me. The gag she had replaced stopped me from answering her.

She lay beside me, cuddling up to me as we lay on the bed. She had her arms wrapped around me as I lay still, my hands handcuffed to the top of the bed.

"I find it very interesting, odd perhaps, a coincidence even that we fell in love and our birthdays are the same week, the same day. Did you know that you are two hours older than I am? You will be an old man before I am an elderly lady."

"What about that?" she asked, pointing to my cock. "What a complex thing it is, did you know it needs the heart to pump the blood into it to make it stand? It also needs the lungs to aerate the blood, yet it is less than one percent of the body mass, so much effort for such a little object. Less than one percent and to work it requires fifty percent of the body. As a business venture it would not be viable.

"Now the female. Well, that is different, about two percent of body mass and it produces a new life in nine months, it is a good business venture and very viable.

"No, dear, I have no wish to debate the pros and cons of my statements. You are here to accept whatever I say as being fact. We can, if you like, Google it later, for now be a good boy and accept your Mistress, knows best.

"For today there is the house to clean in your pretty apron and refreshing drinks to be provided for your magnificent Mistress. Lunch to prepare and cook, then I may require the itch easing which has started already. You did not ease it fully; I needed more orgasms than you provided. I can't say you failed, it abated somewhat, but the amount did not clear, the problem. I said it was adequate and you need to try harder.

"I have selected your favourite clothing, the black set with the frilly apron. I wondered if allowing the fresh air to get to it may help it work better next time. After lunch there is the washing, and my needs will by then require another dose of your serum before you prepare dinner for us. Then in the evening you know your place, kneeling beside me and preparing my drinks for me before you take me to bed, strip me, bathe me and then give me my final injection of the day.

"I really don't know how I managed before I met you and allowed you to ease my desires. Life is very hard for a nymphomaniac, hunting down a cock day after day is very tiring.

"I hope you managed to hang all the net curtains; otherwise, the neighbours are going to have an eye full all day as you clean. Oh, one more thing; I want my afternoon injection on the lounge carpet; I will not need to undress, will I? But if those curtains are not up; then what a view the passers-by will have," she told me.

It was not unusual for her to talk to me while I was gagged; it meant that I could not disagree with her and she liked the sound of her own, uninterrupted voice.

The housework was no more than any household and we shared it normally, but this week, one of us fussed over the other and again we took it in turns. Last year, I was the one sat on the bed talking to her and making my demands. This cryptic set of comments about the male genitalia was new, she must have used Google for her to comment so accurately, or she just made them up. Either way she was making sure I couldn't comment and argue with her; then again, perhaps she was not that far out, with the male genitalia, pro rata to the body mass it wasn't a massive element, but very important. As they say, 'Good things come in small packages.'

The only thing that worried me was that I had to obey her and she had some funny ideas. She would never do anything to hurt me, but shame me, that was another thing. Nothing would leave a permanent scar say, like a tattoo, she had wanted me to have one, a heart with an arrow and her name tattooed on the arrow. I didn't like the idea, she was my soul mate and I expected us not to part until death, but I didn't like the idea of a tattoo. She had my name on her buttock and her name on her clit. She commented that one was useful, the other important. I was just useful, she was important. I laughed with her and kissed her when she showed me what she had done. She had put her name there a long time before we even met, she just added mine when we became serious and got engaged.

First, she shaved my genitals and then she got the tattoo needles out and wiped my dick smiled at me, she was teasing me. She then picked up the needle, smiled and put it down, picking up instead the no- permanent henna markers, they were use for people needing to see if they wanted a pro and per, tattoo.

She wiped my groin and looked into my eyes, seeing the terror in them, and smiled. I knew she would not give me one that, would break the rules of our fun. But I decided to join in the fun and look terrified. She began and wrote in black, and in a semi-circle across the top of my groin, 'The property of,' then she added an arrow in red, outlined in gold from the words pointing to my cock and then on my cock in gold, and etched in black, her name and put the things away.

She came back and sat on the bed. "It was that or breasts. I couldn't decide which. I am still not sure, so I went for the cheaper option. A course of six injections of the serum and six of the oestrogen and breasts grow, even on a male. That is why you need the oestrogen to create the imbalance for them, to grow.

"Although you are worth the four hundred pounds for the injections, they will not go away for a good month; when they start to reduce and I didn't think you would appreciate going to work with tits," she told me.

She released me from the bed and handed me the slave straps. It was an odd thing, just straps sewn together in a box pattern with straps over the shoulder and a Y, going around my genitals and under me. That strap bordered my genitals, emphasising them and was then made into a single strap padlocked to the boxes at the back.

Once in it, it was on to stay on. She put my slave collar around my neck and even that was padlocked to the strapping via chains. She handed me the apron and put the lead on the collar and led me downstairs into the kitchen; breakfast was to be my first task.

When at work it was a coffee and a piece of toast on the go as I got ready for work. This week it was the full deal. I laid the table, cooked the bacon and eggs with sausages and fried bread. I added mushrooms and tomatoes to it. I then had to serve her. It was after all, her birthday, as well as mine and she did it for me, last year. I ate my breakfast with her and cleared the table, washed up and then began the cleaning. I made our bed, vacuumed the carpet and dusted the bedroom, cleaned the toilet and the landing. Then it was downstairs to clean the dining room and lounge. She waited for me to lift her feet onto the settee while I vacuumed the area. She did nothing all day, just lazed on the settee while I cooked lunch and dinner and washed up after finishing the cleaning.

It was late afternoon before I began the washing. She had tormented me by putting, or wearing I think; every item of clothing she had that needed hand washing. I used the dryer to dry them, there wasn't time to hang the clothes out before I ironed them and put them away before bedtime.

"What a day I have had, boy I am so, so tired with all the work," she announced when I had finished, and just about to sit down.

"You, you have; what about me? Did you have to wear every hand wash item of clothing?" I asked her.

I got her usual smile and caress of my cheek, her eyes wide, and adorable. The smile of yes, I got you, didn't I, lit up her face.

"I am far too tired to have sex with you, Slave, perhaps tomorrow, as payment in kind, for lazing about all day. To avoid any unwarranted advances towards me, turn around," she told me.

I knew what this meant; she took my hands and put the handcuffs on them, behind my back. Then the lead on my collar and led me to the bedroom, where she put the chastity device on me, removed the lead and stripped off while I knelt before her.

"Slave, warm my bed for me while I use the bathroom," she ordered me.

I got up, and climbed into bed on her side and lay there until she returned and then I was allowed to use the bathroom and get into my side of the bed. She kissed me sweetly and turned over.

I can't complain, I did it to her when it was my turn as the Master. It does not pay to be too nasty to your slave, when they have the memory of an elephant. This was, get your own back on me for doing it to her last time.

We did have the chastity belt, but this device was new. She must have got it for me to wear, to again get her own back for making her suck me off while she was wearing one. It meant that she had decided that I was not going to fuck her; instead, she was going enjoy my attentions to her. It was in fun and she took it that way, but I am sure she swore to get even and this was payback time.

 

Chapter 2 - Fun and Games

 

I had all the pleasure while she got nothing, except a mouth full of cum last time, at this moment in time I was the one to get the rise while she got the satisfaction.

She made sure I couldn't object, tying me to the bed and now her clit lips were down onto my lips, slowly exaggerating my alleged, punishment. Her clit lips gently rested on my lips; the cold, damp feeling of a dormant clit resting on my lips. then she moved a fraction.

"Slave, if you wish to breathe, you will begin stimulating me! Open and probe," she demanded.

Let's face it; she did not need to demand I probe her; it was just part of the game we were playing, but it added a sense of excitement. I began to kiss the damp, cold lips and lick them. Seconds later my tongue was probing her as she climbed higher and higher, the lips were no longer cold and damp, they were now hot, flushed and wet, dribbling in juices as I probed her energetically.

This was when her devious, and nasty plan arrived, her odours, her juices and where my tongue was, had the usual, desired effect, making my cock rise, a stimulating feeling and one enjoyed by males, just as much as when the female climbed her ladder to heaven. But for me it was short lived, as barbs dug into my semi hard cock, making it die and lie flaccid inside the cage.

"Bitch, this is not nice, what the fuck?" I asked.

"It is just a chastity device, like the one you used on me while I sucked you off, now do you want me to suffocate you again with my clit, if not, stop talking and fuck me hard with your tongue," she said and pushed down for me to put my tongue to work.

One cannot argue when a clit as delectable as hers is pressed against your lips, feeling it there, the dampness, the juices and odours were enough to make any cock rise, even when not probing her, and for it to get stabbed for its trouble.

I had obviously given her oral before, as a preliminary to fucking her, but never for an orgasm. My cock was the tool I preferred for that, as I thought she was the same, preferring my tongue for the preliminaries and my cock for the main event. But to punish me for my nasty exercise the last time, she was making me take her over the top with my tongue.

I probed and probed her as she climbed higher and higher, she moved and squirmed, enjoying the feelings as she rose and her control over me. I stopped, my tongue aching. 'She just moved a fraction and I stuffed it back up. She would not kill me, but can you trust any woman? I didn't fancy the idea of passing out beneath her from lack of breath, so I obeyed her and gave her oral. She was nice to me and allowed me to breathe again, once my tongue was engaged again with her clit.

She climbed higher and higher, her juices flowed and flowed. I gagged on them as they now seemed to flow out of her, the higher she rose, the more they flowed.

"Hum, nice, my juices, so I lie on the damp side, do I? Tonight there won't be a damp side, will there? As you drink my juices and with all that protein you will be ingesting, I can enjoy your tongue over and over, can't I, slave?"

There was no danger of her releasing me yet, I had demanded she suck me off until I had my orgasm and I am not a two second wonder. She sucked and sucked for a good quarter of an hour, now it was to be my turn for her to sit on my face and enjoy my tongue as she had her orgasms. I usually gave her three before shooting my load into her. This meant that she would expect the three, plus. Plus, what was it to be one, as punishment; two, or the full three extra, as I drank her juices?

We did not need to get up; we were not in work today or for the whole week, for that matter, so, how long was I to suffer for my nasty ideas?

She rose and pressed down hard, stuffing her clit into my mouth as she had her first orgasm. There was to be no wet bed, it all went in my mouth and she stayed there until I swallowed it, well, be fair, she did swallow mine the last time. Then again like me, she had no option. I held her head in place, until; she swallowed; now it was my turn as she squirted her first orgasm.

But she expected three as the base line and pushed down again.

"Well. Slave, keep going! I expect three, there is no chance your tongue will weaken is there that, would be a shame. I would need to keep exercising it, until it was capable of giving me the required number of, orgasms, wouldn't I?" she asked me, smiling.

I couldn't see her face, but it was in her voice that she was smiling, enjoying her control, over me.

I also knew this was just the start of a long week, the first few minutes of a week's suffering for me. At least as bad as her week suffering under me, if not worse. Stupidly, we did try to outdo our partner, making their lives miserable for a week. It worked out all our frustrations of the past few months between birthdays, all twelve months. Even now, say, an hour into my week as her slave. I was planning my revenge for next year when she would be my slave. I can't have multiple orgasms, but I can make her suck me off until I shoot my load twice, is that possible? Then again wouldn't it be nice to have her sucking until I shot my load and then suck until I recovered and shot it a second time, crawling around with my cock in her mouth, as I went about my day relaxing, with her hanging on, sucking until I shot my load a second time, nice.

Revenge is best served cold and it will be stone cold in twelve months' time, when we celebrated our birthdays, again. A full week of celebrations, for the one celebrating, the other was perhaps not, so lucky, being the slave.

She squirmed and squirmed all around my mouth, spreading her juices as far as she could do. But she never failed to land on my mouth fully, when she squirted, filling my mouth with her squirt. Then she was off again, spreading her juices as far as she could do, to try and cover my face, in them.

How she managed it I have no idea, but my eye lids were stuck together with her juices and my tongue never left her clit, every squirt went where she intended, down my throat, just as mine had, down hers, last year. Six orgasms later and she lifted, then her final squirt, she was close to her seventh when she lifted and put her thumb to her clit and rubbed it vigorously, making her have the seventh and she aimed it for my face, then got off and left me while she showered, and returned clean as I lay there covered, in her juices.

She leaned on the bed post, relaxed and smiled at me.

"Great fun isn't it, to have your partner tied down and made to give you orgasm after orgasm. With you, there was a gap, you need time to recuperate. With me they came one after the other, all six, lovely, orgasms and with more yet, to come. I am nice and refreshed, after my shower. Would you like to have a shower?"

I noted the words, something you get used to, when avoiding saying what you mean, but saying it anyway. She did not ask me if I wanted to refresh with a shower, she asked, if, I wanted, a shower; would I like to have, a shower? You may not know this, but there are several types of shower and ways of having one and I knew most of them. I am still surprised when she comes up with a variation, on a theme.

"It would be nice, Mistress, if you would permit me to enjoy a shower, erm, in the bathroom," I said.

She smiled, a bad sign, she was up to something, but what? She released me from the bed, we agreed that when released, we did not try to escape; we pretended that there were several of the leader's guards present, so we did, as told. She put the collar on me, the sign of submission and led me into the shower room.

She told me to lie down on the floor, it was a wet room we had built. I did as told and she moved forward, straddling me then squatted down, smiled and she showered me. It came in a cascade, with force; suffocating me, drowning me in the flow, she must have held on for hours for there to be so much.

"Your teeth also need a clean, open wide," she told me, I did and the flow began again.

"What a treat that was for you, slave, drinking Mistress's Chardonnay, don't worry there is a constant supply after a few drinks. Make sure you treat your slave with respect; they can make life a real misery, when upset, and you have a week of misery lined up, break the cycle, by being nice to me when it is your turn," she told me.

"Why don't you break the cycle and be nice, to me?" she asked.

"Why should I?" I asked.

"You instigated this, it was your idea and you went first, I got my own back, so you need to break the cycle, not me. I just seek revenge for you being nasty to me last year. Now dress, I have your sissy maid's uniform ready to put on," she told me smiling, almost laughing at the situation.

I showered and dressed as she dictated, with the false bust and in the sissy maid's uniform, then I joined her in the kitchen, where I began the drudgery of the day making the meals and cleaning the house, while her highness sits there, lording it over me.

Perhaps my idea was not the best of ideas, yet there was no animosity, just the desire to seek revenge for last time, so each year our pains grew and grew. It began with bondage and several fucks, to now where the Master, or Mistress, sits there, and is pampered. They do not have to lift a finger and the slave can end up with a very sore arse, if they fail, or nipples, clit clamps arrived last year, along with a cock whip for her to use this year on me. We could open a dungeon, as each year we acquired a new toy each, plus ones, in between. Let's face it, twelve months between our games is far too long, so we do play at weekends, as well. They are interludes, this week is the main event and we wait a year for it, like our birthdays.