My Gift

January

We had been married for 30 years and our lives were pretty much routine and average.  We had a nice simple house, big yard, two dogs, a cat, and were very much like every other house in the neighbourhood.  I had a normal job with a little stress but nothing over whelming.  She had her own job that she really did not need.  She kept working just so she could get a discount and not get bored.  But all of that changed last New Year’s Eve.  It all changed because for my Christmas present, I asked to be her slave for a year.

We had played sexual games in the past.  Sometimes she would capitulate and give into my desires to be submissive.  Sometimes she just felt horny and wanted sex on her terms without all the fuss and bother.  She was not into bondage, whips, or pain.  She was not even that much into hedonistic pleasures.  She liked things on the level with a little give and take, some sharing, and mostly mutual pleasure.  She liked to please me sexually and it gave her a great deal of joy to watch me moan and groan my way through an orgasm.  She wanted to see me happy.

On Christmas day we opened our gifts.  Movies, books, and a sweater for me – jewelry, music, and games for her were the usual shared items.  I guess she sensed something was missing when while having a drink before going out to an afternoon Christmas supper she asked, “There was something else you wanted, wasn’t there?”

I am not sure if she thought I would have liked another physical item like a sweater or a painting.  Instead I responded that “I would have liked to have a gift that would see us happier as a couple.”  I wanted her to have the passion of newness that we would have experienced when we were dating.  I wanted her to be sensually reborn to be open to passions that she thought had disappeared from her life.  I braved the moment and said, “It would have made me the happiest to give myself to you to be used for your total pleasure.”

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked while we drove downtown to our traditional Christmas dinner. 

“I would like to shed our roles of husband and wife and give myself to be used by you for your pleasure without any expectations of what I would get” I said.  “I would like to give you the opportunity to be as spoiled as you like, to do as you like, and the freedom to experiment to find out what you would want without inhibition.”

“And what would you get out of such a gift?” she asked. 

“It would be my pleasure to see you happy” I replied.  “I want to be able to surrender myself to you.  It would mean that my only focus would be your pleasure.”

“Wouldn’t you be unhappy?” she said with concern.

“I would be unhappy if you were not pleased.  I may be unhappy if I could not help you to achieve your pleasures.  I would be unhappy if I failed you.”

We continued our discussion over dinner.  She was curious about the logistics of such a gift.  Who would pay the bills?  I would and that I would mean I would have to continue working.  Who would be responsible for the household chores we split 50/50?  I would be willing to take on the chores under her direction.  What about our friends?  They may see a difference in our relationship but there is no need to involve them.  Then she asked the big question, what if I disagree with her?  I said that my gift was to surrender to her judgment.  If she wanted to do something, and I did not agree with it, I would ask if she wanted my council but she was not obliged to take it.  And if such a situation was intolerable, we would come up with a ‘punishment’ and my gift to her would be revoked.  If that happened, we would never try this experiment again.

I did not like the idea of closing the door to my fantasies but she wanted to ensure that this is something that I would not take lightly.  We continued our dinner and moved on to more mundane topics leaving the discussion of my gift behind.  The next day was Boxing Day, and after we went for a run to the mall to buy some Boxing Day sale treasures, she returned to the topic of my gift.  We talked about the details of such a gift.  She thought that she could not just jump right into the roles and that a transitional period was required.  I was delighted that she was giving the idea a second thought.  She also thought that it would be necessary for me to compose a list of things that I would be receptive to, not receptive of, or some way of letting her respectfully know that she is doing something she should not. 

Then she turned to me and said, “I am willing to accept your gift.”  I nearly fell off my chair; instead I got up and gave her a great big kiss.  I was happy as a school boy.  She then said we have some planning and some work to do.  I was instructed to go make my lists and she wanted to check some web sites.  I created a list of fantasies that I have had about offering my services to a beautiful woman.  The things that I was not receptive to included anything that had to do with children, was illegal, would prevent me from earning a living, or would embarrass people not involved with our lifestyle.  She reviewed my list and asked if anything that was not on the list was then allowable?  Just to be sure, I was to keep the list for the next 24 hours and add more to it as I considered my situation. 

We did not talk much for the next day, I kept revising my list to include even the most blatant of fetishes that I did not think I could do.  She came to me and said that she wanted me to clean out our much cluttered smallest bedroom and try to remove everything possible out of the room.  She reviewed my list and smiled.  She then said that my “escape phrase was ‘Mel Brooks is a no talent shit’”.  It was the last thing I would ever say and so she would know that I was serious.  If I wanted to go on with this gift, she would start it on New Years Eve when the New Year began at midnight.

On New Years evening we cuddled on the couch and drank champagne until the stroke of mid-night.  As the television counted down the seconds, she kissed my lips and thanked me for her gift.  We are in our fifties and frankly celebrating another New Year is not a big deal, but tonight at midnight we made love in the glow of the fireplace and television.  She came before I did and as soon as she came she slipped off me and stood over me.  She was ready to go to bed so she instructed me to clean up our New Years drinks and treats and then go to sleep in the little bed room.  I pointed out that there was no bed any more in the room and she said that she was aware of that and that I should sleep on the floor.  I was to wake her up at nine am with a small breakfast in bed for her.

The next morning I brought her coffee, toast and a little chocolate into her bedroom.  She moved to the head of the bed so that she could sit up in a nest of pillows.  I was instructed to slip in between her legs and lick her pussy.  She finished her toast and coffee and got up to go to the bathroom.  As she went into the ensuite she instructed me to follow her.  I was to kneel at the side of the toilet as she peed.  Then I was instructed to hand her the tissue.  She dried herself and then returned to bed with me in tow.  She sat up in the bed again and I resumed licking her labia’s lips.  She tasted a little salty as she said that each morning I am to awake her and then wait kneeling in the bathroom for her. 

As she described what my routine duties would be; such as cleaning the house, setting out her clothes, helping her get dressed, and such, she had a back arching orgasm.  We then went out to the kitchen to start our day.  I was still wearing the clothes I had slept in overnight.  This would clearly not do because she said that from now on I am to be naked or in whatever clothes she wants me to wear.  If she does not tell me what to wear, then I am to assume that I should be nude. 

For the next week I got used to my life.  One morning I was late to work because I was waiting for her to come to the bathroom and she fell back to sleep.  I was getting kind of stiff from sleeping on the floor and it was also kind of cold too.  So she decided that I could have an old blanket and one of the dog’s old pillows.  She thought that because I was usually naked, I was not to sit on any of the furniture.  I would only sit on the floor which she liked because I would be available to rub her feet.

She decided that my gift will have the duration of one year.  Over that year she will have all the control.  We will stop the process at the end of one month, three months, six months and a year to make sure that everything is okay.  Those are the only times that I may address her as an equal and that is the only time that I may lodge a complaint about what she is doing or has done.  Then she told me that she loved me and very much appreciated my gift to her.  She didn’t want to damage our relationship but she too realized we needed something to spark it up.

The week after New Years, she instructed me to take some time off work and meet her downtown.  We had a lovely lunch and then went to an office building.  It was our lawyer’s office where we processed our wills and mortgage.  She told him that she was worried about a possible legal action coming against me and just to be safe she wanted to have the lawyer put all of our assets in her name.  The lawyer looked to me and I agreed.  So as we left his office, I had nothing.  This was her first step to ensure that I did not rescind my gift.  The second step was to occur later that afternoon, she arranged for a very young looking call girl to meet us.  For $200 she had the girl tie me up and simulate making love to me.  After two rolls of film, the girl was dismissed.  My wife put the photos of what looks like sex with a minor and the papers that gave everything to my wife put me in a place where my work would be destroyed and future unclear if they ever got out.

We stopped for tea and she told me that she did not think it was right that I should call her by her name or even pet names anymore.  From now on I am to call her Mistress or Milady.  If we are in public, I may address her as Miss or Dear.  She also said that she wanted to do something to me that would be a blatant reminder that I was her gift.  She also said it was time to ‘call a spade – a spade’ and that I am to be her ‘slave’. 

She said that as a slave, I am to have no rights to my body.  She wanted to do something so that I wouldn’t look like her husband of thirty years.  We left the tea shop and went to a body piercing store.  There were not many people in the store.  A couple of guys were there to get tattoos, and a girl wanted to have a piercing in her eyebrow.  Mistress saw a girl behind the counter and told her that we wanted to have my nose pierced.  Milady said in a joking way that “he was such a bull in the bedroom; he should have a nose ring”.  The girl laughed and obliged by piercing my septum.  She put in a little straight bar that was almost invisible for me to use during those times I didn’t want to show my ring.  For the rest of the time I would have a one inch gold ring dangling from my nose. 

I was not allowed to try the ring for a week while my nosed healed but once it did, I was required to change my nose piercing to the ring as soon as we came into the house.  One time I did the reverse and rushed out of the house forgetting to remove the ring.  I realized what I did once I checked the rear view mirror of the car.

After a couple of weeks of service in the bathroom, Mistress said that she should not be the one cleaning herself after she uses the toilet.  She instructed me on how to clean her.  Also, I would not attend her only in the morning, but I must attend her every time she uses our facilities at home.  I was also rather horny because we had not made love since New Years Eve, and I think she was too, because one day I came home from work and she instructed me to meet her in the bedroom.  Since I was wearing no clothes it was clearly evident that I was ready to make love to my Mistress.  She instructed me to lie on her bed and tied my wrists to the bedposts and my ankles to the footboard.  She kissed my cock and sucked on it for a moment or two.  When I started to twitch, she stopped and got off of me.  When she returned she was nude.  She straddled my stretched body and put her wet pussy to my nose.  I could feel her hands on my cock; softly rubbing it up and down.  Then I felt her put a condom on my member.  This was odd because all the time we were married I never wore a condom.  The last time I had a sleeve on was when I was in college.  Then she put on another, and another, and another.  She put five or six condoms on my cock and then turned towards me and mounted my member.  I could see her rock up and down on me, and feel her weight as she moved, but I couldn’t feel her pussy hold me.  The rubber reduced any sensation I had in my cock so I could only stay hard but not cum.  She smiled down at me and said “Slave you are nothing but a fuck toy to me.”

She left me in the room for an hour or two, but through out the rest of the evening she would come in, ride my cock to an orgasm for her, and then leave.  It was nice laying on a bed rather than the floor even if my arms and legs were stretched.  Satisfied with her evening she came in, untied me and instructed me to go clean up the kitchen and then go to my bedroom.  I was not to remove the condoms; she wanted to see if they would stay on all night.  The next day she came into my room before I was to get up and wake her up and she saw that I was still asleep with my hand on my cock.  She watched as I stroked myself in my sleep.  She quickly went out and grabbed a cold glass of water and tossed it on me.  I woke up startled and apologized for not waking her up in time.  But she said that she was not mad at me for not waking her but she was upset that I was playing with her toy.  It was not longer my cock but her cock and she should decide what I do with it.  As punishment she took me to the shower.  I was instructed to kneel between her legs as she straddled my head.  “Open your mouth” she instructed.  A slow trickle turned into a stream as she directed her pee into my mouth.  Every so often she would slow down and instruct me to swallow.  When she was done I was instructed to lick her dry.  I dried her clean but she didn’t move.  Instead she cramped her sphincter and farted in my face.  She instructed me to stay kneeling in the shower for the rest of the night and she closed the shower stall door.  I woke up the next morning when she turned the cold spray on me and I was allowed to return to my new normal duties.

The next time she went to the washroom, she decided that rather than peeing in the toilet she wanted to use my mouth.  This soon became our normal routine and I learned to drink her hot urine without having to stop for swallowing.  It had been a month since I had given myself to her.  In that time she stopped making love to me, treated me like a servant, and used me as a toilet.  But on the last day of the month, she introduced me to my new friend, a chastity device.  It is called a CB-6000 and will stop me from touching her cock.  I was tied down on the bed again and she kissed my cock to hardness again.  I licked her pussy and she mewed with delight.  She caressed my balls and I was in heaven.  Then without any warning she reached over the end of the bed and pulled out a bag of frozen peas.  My cock shrunk like a swim in a cold lake.  She slipped my cock into the cage and closed it up with its locking ring.  Then I heard that snap of a lock closing, she now really did own my cock.

She turned to me and smiled; “now your cock really is mine!”  I asked, “Milady, where do you keep the key and she replied “Wouldn’t you like to know”. 

February

Our first month was a ‘getting to know you’ period where my mistress was becoming to her new power.  In the past month she became accustomed to having me sleep in another room, to have her pussy licked every morning, to use me as her personal urinal, to consider my cock her secure locked up toy and to have me as her personal servant and house cleaner.  She no longer considers me her husband of 30 years and instead treats me like her personal slave.  It had been one month since her gift began and it was time for our first review.  She instructed me to wear a white t-shirt, blue jeans, no underwear, and a pair of shoes as we were going to have our meeting in a restaurant. 

I dressed as directed and we went to her favourite Italian restaurant.  Once there she ordered herself chicken marsala and a glass of wine.  She told the waiter that I was on a diet and would have focaccia bread and a glass of very dry wine.  We reviewed our situation and I told her that I was happy with the way things were going with the exception of having my cock locked up.  I was feeling really horny and frustrated that I didn’t see any relief in sight.  She said that she was happy too.  She was very surprised that she liked using me as her toilet but didn’t like the idea of kissing my mouth any more.  She also said that she found it wonderful that we only had sex on her terms and happy not to give me blow jobs.  She asked me if I wanted to continue or use my safe phrase and I said that it was not necessary and would be happy to go on.

She instructed the waitress to put what was left of her meal into a doggie bag and we left the restaurant for home.  Once we got home I undressed, replaced the ring in my nose and attended to Milady.  She had raced off to the bathroom while I changed; when I came in to the toilet she had emptied her bowels.  She leaned forward onto the counter and exposed her dirty rear to me.  “Clean me up” she instructed as I reached for some tissue paper.  “No, use your tongue” she corrected my actions.  I held my breath and began to lick the shit from her rear.  In a few minutes I finished and she was clean.  She turned to me and saw some of her fecal matter on my cheek.  She laughed, “Christ, you will do anything.”  I washed my face and joined her in the living room. 

I sat by her feet, rubbing them softly as we watched TV.  Then she reached over me into a small bag and pulled out a leather collar.  She passed the collar over my head and attached it around my neck.  “This is now part of your slave attire.   You will wear it always at home and when you attend me outside the house.  You do not have to wear it at work unless you are going to wear a closed shirt.  I have also decided that you should remove all your body hair below the collar.  She gave me some money to go to Wal-Mart and purchase some hair depilatories.  I came home with the receipts and the change.  She directed me to go use the hair remover and after my shower to return for her inspection.  When I came out of the shower she directed me to go on hands and knees on the table.  She gave me an incredible inspection.  She had me open my mouth to ensure I brushed my teeth after cleaning her.  Then she checked for hair left over from the remover.  It had been over two weeks since I felt her touch on my body.  She found a missed spot on my back where one by one she yanked each one out.  I jumped with each pull causing her to giggle.  Then she spread my rear cheeks.  “Oh My God! Look at the fur here!”  One by one for the next twenty minutes she yanked out the hair from around my ass hole.  Tears formed in my eyes but I held off from complaining.  I gave off a little yelp now and then and she laughed at my predicament.  When she was done with her inspect, she insisted that I stay on all fours on the table top.  Her fingers drummed the hard red plastic case that covered my penis.  I could feel her breath on my smooth balls as she moved closer. 

Then I felt her nails dig into the sac holding my testicles.  She laughed as she scratched me.

My mistress did not have any experience in hurting me or anyone else.  Earlier in our marriage we had tested the bdsm waters but she just could not bring herself to cause me pain.  But now something changed.  As my gift to her, she discovered that it was okay to hurt me.  In truth, she found something enjoyable in the process of causing me pain.  When she saw that plucking out my hair strand by strand pleased her; she decided that she must explore this part of her more.  She began the process by having me make a St. Andrew’s cross in my room.  I am an acceptable carpenter and the cross was an easy build.  I made a frame on the floor that would offer support and allow the cross to be free standing.  Then I installed sunken rings and various parts of the cross.  I sanded and painted the 2x8” crosses that formed the ‘X’ with three coats of royal purple (her favourite colour).  She was quite pleased when she came into my room.  But after reviewing the construction she wanted a few additions.  First there would be coarse sand paper glued to the center where my bottom would rest if my back were up against the boards.  Second, a layer of coarse sandpaper would go where the soles of my feet would be at the base.  The idea is not for me to be comfortable.

I stood, barefoot, on the coarse sandpaper.  My arms were stretched to the ends of each arm of the cross.  My wrists and ankles were attached at the extreme ends of the cross by Velcro strips that held tight.  She moved around and examined her property.  Then she took out a thick marker and drew on my body.  As I was facing away from the cross she drew a thick line at the lower portion of my rib cage.  ‘NO HIT’ was written over my stomach.  Another line was drawn at my hips to define where she may hit again.  She drew a similar line just above my knees and marks the area below that as a no hit zone.  She left me for a while so that the ink would dry.  When she returned she had a riding crop with her.  She said, “I would like to see what happens when you are struck but don’t need to hear you.”  She moved to another bag and took out a gag.  She slipped the gag into my mouth and secured it behind my head.  The gag was very much like a whiffle ball that golfers use for their practice.  It allowed me to breath but kept me from forming words.

It would have been nice to make words out as the first blow from her riding crop came across my chest.  It was not all that hard of a strike but sufficient to leave a thick red line.  She repeated her strike many more times until my chest was a criss-cross of lines showing the trails of her beating.  She changed her location and struck my legs in her pre-determined zone.  My body felt like it was on fire as the blood surged to those places on my skin that had been assaulted by her strokes.  She would stop hitting me and run her bare hand across my chest feeling the welts as the rose.  The she stepped back and returned with the key to the cage holding my cock.  She released my member and it sprung to life turning itself to a hard steel rod.

“You said that you missed cumming, well now is your chance,” she declared.  She stepped back and struck my cock with her whip.  I tried to jump or yell, I wanted to twist away from her blows but there was just no stopping it.  Again and again she hit my member until it glowed a purple reddish hue.  Then she stopped.  She filled the palm of her hand with lotion and began to stroke my poor cock.  Within moments I had forgotten then pain and rocked my hips to pump her hand.  Within a few minutes I exploded in and orgasm that shot onto the linoleum floor and her hand.  She scraped the white goo from her hand onto my gag and left me alone.  When she returned an hour later, she re-attached my chastity device and told me that pain will accompany every orgasm I will ever have.  She then removed me from the cross and took hold of my nose ring.  She led me into the living room where she had me knee down in front of her and lick her pussy while she relaxed for the evening.  She moaned softly as I ate her to orgasm after orgasm.

Over the next few weeks this would become our routine.  My chest and back would be a constant reminder of welts and bruises.  She had more orgasms than she ever had even as promiscuous college student.  And she discovered as certain addictive quality to her passion, it seemed that the more orgasms she had, the easier they were to have and the stronger they would become.  She found pleasure in watching me cum when I was attached to the cross and could not prevent her controlling my body.  She was enjoying the power in her control.  The next question was how far would that control allows her to go.

One night she told me to go to the bathroom a little earlier than usual and make sure that I empty my bowels.  I have discovered that usually this means she is going to secure me somewhere for the entire evening until the morning.  But when I returned to her she instructed me to go on my hands and knees facing away from her.  She reached between my legs and played with my balls.  Softly caressing each nut caused my cock to rebel in its cage.  Then I heard the glob sound of lubricant being poured from a bottle.  She stroked the cold liquid onto my nether hole and slipped one of her fingers inside me.  She pumped the finger in me a few times and withdrew it; only to replace the digit with a small dildo.  I groaned as my as opened and she commented “you are very tight.”   She had decided that she thought my ass should be able to take any of the dildoes that would fit in her.  To accomplish that, I am to wear a butt plug whenever possible.  She started by inserting a model that was only three inches long and about an inch and a half wide.  It invaded my ass and then as the bulb slipped past my sphincter my ass closed in around it and gripped it tightly.  She had purchased seven butt plugs, on larger than the other.  Each day I was to wear one of them so that on the seventh day, my ass would easily accommodate a large dildo.  On that day she came into my sleeping room dressed in a way that I had never seen before.  She was wearing a black body suit of tight lycra fabric.  Immediately I saw a large cock harnessed to her pelvis as it obscenely pointed towards me.  “On your hands and knees with your head on the floor slave” she commanded as she came into the room.  She with drew the plug from my ass and replaced it with her cock.  She pumped me deeply as this thing must have been 10 inches long.  She groaned as the pressure of her artificial cock rubbed her pussy in just the right spot to give her an incredible orgasm.  Spent, she held herself up on my back, sliding herself slowly in and out fucking my ass.  She withdrew and left me alone in the room, sweaty, sore and used.

I fell asleep as a little bit of blood trickled from my ass hole where she had stretched me.  Later that morning I returned to my regular duties.  When I went to clean up the kitchen I found the monster cock on the counter with a note on it to clean it and return it to the toy chest.  I washed the cock by hand, stroking it up and down with hot soapy water.  When I was sure she wasn’t looking I slipped it into my mouth to see what it would be like to suck such a beast.  As I withdrew the cock from my mouth I wondered to myself what had I become.  For sure I am no longer the man I once was.  And then I realized, this was February and I forgot to give her a valentine’s card.  Valentine’s Day was too weeks ago but I immediately went to her chair, kneeled, and apologized for not giving her a Valentine’s gift.  She smiled at me and asked “why would I want a valentine’s gift from you?  You are neither my husband or my lover.  You are a thing. A toy.  I would not expect something from a toaster or a chair”.  I hung my head in shame.  Is this what I have become? 

I returned to my chores, doing laundry and cleaning the house.  In eight short weeks we have turned our back on a thirty year relationship.  I have gone from being the man of the house to become property.  I cannot control my own body and its functions as I do not maintain the key to that privilege.  I turned around and saw my mistress in the door way.  She said she was thinking about what she just told me.  I smiled because I thought she had reconsidered her words.  “Give me your wedding ring” she commanded.  “You are not my husband, you are my slave” she said.  I slipped the ring off of my left hand and gave it to her.  “Open your mouth” she told me as I kneeled before her.  I opened my mouth as wide as I could and held it that way for what seemed like a half an hour.  It was likely only a minute while she worked up a mouth full of saliva and spit directly into my open mouth.  “That’s the kind of kiss you deserve” she laughed and returned to her room.  I was stunned.  I didn’t know what to do, so I swallowed and returned to my cleaning.

That night while I served as her toilet, she told me that she needs to do something to replace my wedding ring.  I need a symbol to remind me of who I am.  I thought as if the nose ring, collar, and chastity were not enough.  She has decided that she is going to mark me and that tomorrow I will be tattooed.  I tucked her into bed and returned to my room.  I fell asleep dreaming of what kind of mark she would want to put on me.  My mind buzzed all night but the next morning we returned to the tattoo shop where I had my nose ring inserted.  Mistress insisted that I wear my nose ring to show the tattoo staff how I have progressed.  I was five shades of red as we went into the shop. 

The girl remembered us from two months before.  She welcomed us into her area and asked what my mistress would like.  She ignored me as if I wasn’t there.  Milady said she wanted Property of (her real name) placed on the small of my back.  Also she would like a bar code put at the base of my neck to show that I am an item and not a person.  The tattoo artist complied in a delicate hand, permanently marking me.  She and Milady chatted about how there are other people in the area that are also into domination and submission.  We would be most welcome to join them.  Milady took the contact information, paid the girl, and we left for home.  Once we made it to the parkade, Mistress said that she would like some alone time and I was to walk home.  After all, if I got lost anyone would know who I belonged to.  I was embarrassed to show my nose ring off in the busy downtown streets, so if moved quickly on the six kilometer walk home.  When I came home I found Milady talking on the phone excitedly to someone.  It appears that she found someone in common judging by their conversation and we would be meeting them next week.

Milady instructed me to sit at her feet while she talked on the phone.  She stroked my hair, played with my collar, tugged at my nose ring, and exposed my neck to see her tattoo.  She had found a web site where she could register me as a submissive and they gave her and individual bar code to identify me.  I no longer felt like a husband but I did feel like I belonged.