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Amy's Bitch: A FemDom Tale Parts 6-12
Bundle contains: 6 - My Wife's New Toy 7 - A Husband Denied 8 - Amy Steps Out 9 - My Mistress Meets Her Master 10 - Princess Nadia 11 - Princess' Pet 12 - A Humbled Husband
From suburban housewife to dominant sex goddess. Amy had come a long way in a short time. And the only way is up. In these stories, Amy pushes her submissive husband Brian to new depths of sexual humiliation. Latex outfits, whips, handcuffs, toys - there's nothing she won't use to keep her husband in line. And when she discovers the thrill of making her husband a cuckold, things get even wilder...
My desire for my wife is what allows her to dominate me. We both know this. I could physically overpower her, anytime I’m not handcuffed or otherwise restrained. But I don’t. I allow her to cuff me and abuse me, to torment and torture me. Because I want her that badly. And that’s the excitement in all of this for her. It’s not that she likes hurting me, per se. She gets turned on by the fact that I’m so attracted to her, I’ll submit to her hurting me. She understands this. And so, in the six months since she started sexually dominating me, she has worn clothes and lingerie that I’d only dreamed of seeing her in. The visual appeal, she understands, is key. The very first time she dominated me, she wore a green satin corset with black lace overlay and shiny patent heels like something out of my kinkiest fantasies, as though she had some direct line to the darkest desires I keep hidden away in my skull. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. Until today. She was wearing a dress. Black, and figure-hugging, with a strap over each shoulder. The neckline was low, what I think is called a sweetheart, the rounded cups revealing acres of soft breast as her waist tapered below her bust in a perfect heart shape. Her waist, I noticed, was even narrower than it should be, the rigid strips that ran in parallel lines down her stomach hinting that the dress had its own built-in corset to enhance her already mouth-watering figure. The skirt was on the longer side. As she sat on the bed with her legs crossed, the hem rose high, but I suspected it wouldn’t be more than an inch or two above her knee if she stood. Most striking of all, the dress was made entirely of latex. It shone in the bedroom light as she breathed, the shimmering fabric clinging to every curve of her body, exposing everything and yet revealing nothing. It was as though she were somehow more than naked, even sexier for keeping some things a mystery, this woman who I married seven years ago. Desire exploded within me, the leaden pressure of lust almost forcing me down to my knees before she even spoke a word. My furious cock pressed hard against the rough towel I had wrapped around my waist, still holding it closed with suddenly numb fingers. My limbs tingled, deprived of the life-giving blood that had rushed to my steel-hard dick. Some images you know, the moment you see them, will stay burned into your brain forever, like the shadows cast by an atom bomb etched permanently onto whitewashed walls. My wife Amy on the edge of our bed, legs crossed, smiling, in a skintight latex dress, will stay with me forever. “How do I look?†she smiled. She didn’t have to ask. The look on my face said more than my mouth ever could, and the look on her face confirmed it. But I wet my dry lips with my tongue and attempted to speak. “You look....divine,†I wheezed. It was really the only word for it. Her delicate eyebrow arched mischievously. “Divine?†she repeated softly. “That’s good. Because I expect to be worshiped like a goddess.â€
