1. The Devil's Pact Slave Chronicles 10: Monica, My Husband's Slave


    Date: 9/8/2015, Categories: Fantasy, BDSM, Blowjob, Bondage and restriction, Cum Swallowing, Domination/submission, Hardcore, Male / Females, Males / Female, Water Sports/Pissing, Wife, Author: mypenname3000, Rating: 71.4, Source: sexstories.com

    The Devil's Pact Slave Chronicles by mypenname3000 Copyright 2015 Monica: My Husband's Slave Note: Over a year ago, Mark gave Monica the command to do whatever filthy things her husband wants. Thanks to b0b for beta reading this. Saturday, June 7th, 2014 – Monica Jephson – Tacoma, WA I woke up bound, the sunlight streaming through the window. My bladder was full, urgent. My husband, and master, snored next to me. I turned my head, trying to ignore the sun and my bladder. It was still early; Jonathon wouldn't want to be woken up before eight, and he would be most displeased if I disturbed him. I focused on his face as I tried to relax into sleep. The shadow of brown whiskers clung to his strong jawline, his bold nose, and powerful lips. He was a sexy man. For the last year I had been his slave, and I loved every minute of being dominated by him. Saturdays were our special day to play. We indulged in bondage throughout the week, often hiring Jessie Smith to play dominatrix with me while Kylie, our lover, entertained Jonathon. Sometimes, I would get to tie Kylie up and play her Mistress while Jonathon watched. But Saturday, I let my husband keep me tied up all day long. It actually started Friday night. Before bed, he would bind me with a rope, using complicated knots looped about my breasts, biting into my big, round tits, then he'd loop the rope through my crotch, pulling it tight so it dug into my pussy and asscheeks. Every time I moved, the rough fibers rasped against my ...
    labia and clit. My legs were bound at he knees and ankles and my wrist tied behind my back. The ritual of our Saturdays started shortly after that wonderful evening when I became my husband's sex slave. Back then, we both worked weekdays: he worked at his office job and I was a bank teller. Last August, we both quit our jobs and devoted ourselves to missionary work, spreading the Living God's messages. Rose and Daisy Cunningham ordained us themselves, anointing us with their pussy juices and presenting us with a pair of charms—small, bronze medallions set with rubies and inscribed with Hebrew letters—that were crafted by the Holy Vizier herself. “People will view you with less hostility,” Daisy had explained. “These make people more receptive to our Gods' message.” With a generous donation from the main church, we leased a small office space in a strip mall on 72nd Avenue and Golden Given near our house. Our flock grew, and within two months we moved to a former Christian Church down the street on Portland Avenue. It was rewarding work and we were constructing our permanent church, a large monument to our Gods' glory, up the street. I tried to go back to sleep, to ignore the mounting pressure in my bladder. But I couldn't. Today was a special Saturday, and my excitement for tonight's ceremony gave me a nervous energy that left me fidgeting in my restraints. After what may have been either an hour or five minutes, I wasn't sure, Jonathon's eyes opened and he sat up, glancing at ...
«1234...89»