The Perfect Wife: A Tale of Male Dominance by M. J. Rennie

The Perfect Wife: A Tale of Male Dominance by M. J. Rennie

Author:M. J. Rennie
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Male Dominant, Romance, Erotic Fiction, BDSM
Publisher: PageTurner
Published: 2004-04-03T23:00:00+00:00


The Silver Ring

At 7:50 A.M., slaves were awakened to begin the day. Upon arising, ten minutes were allotted to each slave to use the toilets in our cabins. At 8:00 A.M., loud buzzers sounded throughout the compound to announce the start of a new day.

Fannies hit the seats as we slaves urinated and eliminated, washed our hands and faces. From there we were taken, in the nude, to the main pavilion dining room. Our Masters stayed behind to enjoy some extra shuteye.

We ate a simple meal of cold cereal, fruit, juice, yogurt, and coffee. Again we were dressed in our slave costumes – the same style outfits, in black polyvinyl chloride.

Dressing and costuming took about an hour. Finally, the subordinates Frieda and Laverne sent us off to serve our individual Masters at the morning rituals.

My Master was still snoring when I returned to our cabin. Though I waited patiently, I was eager for him to get up. At last the wake up signal sounded. Master rolled over and rubbed his eyes. The buzzer rang insistently. I stood rigidly at attention, awaiting his command.

Master turned to look at me, blinking his pale blue eyes at my black slave costume, trying to focus. Then he did.

"You look exceptionally fetching this morning," Master said.

"Thank you, Master," I answered.

"Did you bring a fresh butt plug?"

In a stammering voice, I indicated that I had.

"Good, I'll be inserting it in you before the collar ceremony," he said. "Right now I'm going to take a shower."

"Will you be needing me to serve you in there, Master?"

"Not right away. I'll explain your duties later."

While Master showered, I stood in front of the full-length mirror opposite the bed in our room. The first part of the morning had been so hurried, what with getting up and being taken nude into the pavilion, there to be fed and dressed like so many cattle. This was the first chance I'd had to really examine myself in my slave costume.

I must admit it came as a big surprise to me that they would make us wear our hair under a rubber cap. They had me in one right now.

Otherwise, my face was fully made up with light foundation, red lipstick, and expertly applied mascara. Farther down, my breasts were encased in a tight black cincher, with open nipple holes. Below my waist, the black ankle-length pants I wore had a slit running from my clitoris in front to my anus in back.

This special design allowed Master complete sexual access to my body at all times.

Best of all were the shoes. I looked great in them: my legs were smooth and shapely, my thighs were long without being skinny, and my calves were solid without being fat. I was proud of my appearance. Bending over, I looked at the shape my figure cut in the flattering glass. Beautiful.

I touched a finger to myself, rubbing the swollen nub at my front. My breasts stuck out alluringly, my big brown nipples stiffly erect. In back, the cleft of my bottom showed nicely under the stretchy fabric of my suit.


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