Domestic Wife

*Edit* I wanted to fix typos as well as add more detail and backstory so I will slowly be changing some of these chapters. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

All characters are 18 years old or older. This story takes place in late 1800s to early 1900s period in a rural area (and the technology used might not be exactly accurate to the time period, so if that ruins the vibe for you maybe skip this one?) Trigger Warning: this story contains oral sex, dominance and submission, titles such as Sir, a woman in a domestic role, an arranged marriage, and explicit language. You must be 18 years old or older to view.

*****

Darcy's feet touched the cold ground and she stared around her. The room was small. The wall in front of her was made of brick, while the other three were plain white. The floor was made of faded, distressed, wood. The house was practically one large, L-shaped room. There was a bed with an old iron frame, an armchair and small bookshelf hidden in one corner. Laying on top of the bed was a thick, handmade quilt, two pillows and three dresses. There was a wooden chest with a flat top at the end of the bed, with a silver tray and two teacups resting on top of a lace runner.

There was a plush gray rug that peeked out from under the bed. It looked as if it were made of fur, from what Darcy could tell. She wondered if her husband liked to hunt, or if this was an attempt to show his wealth. Surely, had he been wealthy, he could afford more than a room for the both of them, she thought. Immediately regretting her ungratefulness, she turned to him and smiled.

Her husband, Jesse, stood propped against the front doorpost, watching her as she surveyed her new home. To his left was the door she assumed lead to the bathroom. Jesse smiled back, telling her that he would return soon. He gave no mention of where he was headed or what he was doing. He only told her to get herself settled. He thought his wife's silence on the trip over was due to nerves. Perhaps, if he let her have a moment to herself she would be a bit more at ease.

The door closed and Darcy looked around the room again. She felt an odd sense of worry at Jesse being gone and chided herself for it. She walked over to the window, and pulled back the cream-colored lace curtain. She could see him picking up an axe and walking down a path away from the house.

She wondered what sort of man he would be to her. She wondered if he was the sort to ignore his wife, except for sex. A few of her friends had landed such men, and Darcy prayed that wasn't her fate. She'd felt a twinge of fear when he'd picked up the axe. She wondered if he was the sort of man who enjoyed disciplining his wife. The thought terrified her, and yet, the feeling was not completely unpleasant.

She pulled herself away from such depraved thoughts and sat in the chair by the window. On the small dining room table before her, there were two ceramic plates, various mismatching cutlery, plain cloth napkins, a teapot, an empty glass vase, and two drinking glasses. Everything seemed to be clean, like he had just set it out. She smiled. Clearly her husband had spent some time preparing the house for her, perhaps even buying more feminine things to help her feel comfortable. No, she thought, he wasn't the disciplining type after all. She felt a strange mixture of relieve and regret at the thought and wasn't sure what to make of it.

In the opposite corner of the house, there was a wood burning stove, and a sink beside it. The brick wall was lined with two long wooden shelves containing copper pots, jars filled with food, and other materials for cooking. Hanging on the wall was also an apron. There were only two windows in the house, one in the bedroom and one in the dining area. The room was well light because her husband had installed electric lights in the ceiling as well. This made her slightly nervous, she had never lived in a house that used electricity before. Maybe he was better off than she imagined.

There was only one room with a door inside Darcy's new home. Its exterior walls helped to create the L-shape of the rest of the house. Darcy peeked inside and found that it was perhaps the loveliest bathroom she'd ever seen. There was a window with lace curtains like those in the dining room. In front of this window was a large copper tub. A real tub, with running water. There was a counter with a wash bowl and soap and an elegant, but small mirror hanging above. She opened the cabinet beneath hoping to find it had been stocked with soft towels. When she opened the small door, her heart nearly stopped. Suddenly, her legs began to shake with fear and excitement. She sat on the tile floor, staring. A metallic chastity belt, with a keyhole rested inside the open cabinet.

Her heart started beating faster. He absolutely would discipline her. He would probably do much worse than that. She started to wonder if she should regret accepting his proposal, but it was too late for that now. The dowry had been paid and they had been married just this morning and there was no way to take back her vows. Just then she heard footsteps on the porch. She scrambled to her feet, slamming the cabinet door shut. The front door opened with a squeak. Her husband stood there, firewood in hand, eyeing her suspiciously. Darcy felt a twinge of fear at the look he gave her and swallowed.

"Is everything to your liking?" He questioned.

She couldn't tell if he was teasing. She was sure that her face was still red with embarrassment from looking at that belt. She'd given herself away. He knew that she'd seen what was hidden in the cabinet. Still, she was much too shy to bring it up. Besides, Darcy thought, what would he want with a chastity belt on his wedding night after all?

She nodded silently and tried to offer a smile, but she was too nervous. He looked disappointed.

"Do you know how to use one of those?" he asked nodding at the old stove.

She nodded again, and this time he walked over to her. He was standing just inches away from Darcy. Her body was so much smaller than his. His large frame was muscular and intimidating. She could feel her heart pounding again.

"I'm going to need you to start answering me aloud." His voice was commanding, and to her surprise, his tone was not threatening, "Can you do that?"

Darcy swallowed again, just then realizing how quiet she had been. She'd hardly spoken since they'd said their vows. Her father had given her away without mentioning much of her husband's character. Darcy had only known about the wedding a few weeks beforehand. It was a strange thing to wake up this morning and know that for the rest of her life she would be tied to this man she hardly knew.

"Darcy." Her husband said with what Darcy interpreted as a hint of worry, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she complied, walking quickly over to the stove and placing the logs in. "I think perhaps I've just had a lot of excitement for today."

There were footsteps behind her. She stayed kneeling as she continued to place the chopped wood into the stove. Her husband sat beside her, but she kept her eyes on what she was doing. She was completely unprepared for how to handle herself around her new husband. Did he want her to look him in the eye, she thought, or was he the sort who would find that disrespectful. Her hand shook as she placed the last of the wood into the stove.

"I didn't mean to startle you," He said softly, noting how her hand trembled in his presence, "But, I believe it would be best if we talk to one another. I'd hate to think that I frighten you."

"You don't frighten me." She said back, unintentionally curt. She looked back at him to gage his reaction, to see if her blunt response could evoke any anger in him. But, he was not angry at all, merely amused.

"Good, I'm glad." He kissed forehead and got up.

Darcy watched as he walked away. She noticed as he picked a book off the shelf and sat in the armchair. She turned back to the stove. It took almost no effort to light the fire. Once the wood began to burn, she looked around the kitchen. Feeling her stomach growl, she looked at the shelves. There were cans of beans, carrots, peas and corn along with some flour and other spices.

"We can get more food tomorrow if you like. I thought you'd like to decide on what to buy." He stated, looking up from a page.

"Well, we still need something for tonight," she stated, peeking inside of a small ice-box where he kept milk and butter. "Do you like shepherd's pie?"

"Yes, that would be fine."

Pulling the apron off the hook, she began to put the ingredients together. She felt nervous. She could feel him watching her, his hungry eyes raking her frame as she stood with her back to him. Her face felt hot, and her hands kept shaking. She tried to breath calmly and remind herself there was nothing to worry about. He hadn't even brought up the thing in the bathroom cabinet. Despite her initial shock at seeing it, there was something exciting, and perhaps even comforting that he owned one. Still, she wasn't sure if he might misuse it.

When the pie was finished she placed it on the table and filled the glasses with water.

"This is delicious. Thank you." he commended her.

"You're welcome." She wasn't sure of what else to say, she merely looked at him waiting for him to ask her something. She took in his features as she ate. He had a strong jaw and broad shoulders. His sleeves were rolled up to expose his muscular forearms. He had strong hands; she noticed they were calloused, but not dirty. His eyes were a strange shade, unlike any she'd seen before.

"Darcy?" His voice pulled her back. She'd been so enamored with him that she'd completely missed whatever he'd just asked of her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"We need to talk about some things."

Her heart was beating fast again now. "What things?"

He looked at her for a moment. He sighed, putting his fork down, he leaned over the table as he addressed her. Darcy fidgeted nervously at what he was going to ask of her.

"I can tell that you're nervous, but I need you to tell me why. It's very important to me that I be aware of how you are feeling."

Darcy was taken aback. She blinked, confused, "But why should you care about that?"

Jesse's eyebrows scrunched, clearly upset that she thought him to be some callous brute. "Because you are my wife." He said firmly, "I have an obligation to make sure you're happy, just as you do to me."

"Yes," Darcy conceded, thinking of the belt. "And what would make you happy?"

"I want you to feel as if you are free to talk to me about anything that worries or upsets you. You shouldn't fear your husband."

"I told you, I'm not afraid." Darcy lied. It was hard to explain what she was afraid of exactly.

"Now, you should also know that there are some things I will not stand for Darcy. Lying is one of them," He said, his voice finally taking on the threatening tone that Darcy had been dreading, "So, let me ask you another way, and this time I want the truth. You seemed startled when I came in from getting firewood this afternoon. Why was that?"

He had caught her. "I felt like I was snooping around someone else's house."

"I told you to make yourself comfortable. This is your house now, after all."

He waited patiently for a response as she fiddled with her hands in her lap. He knew if she'd found the belt like he'd assumed, this might be a scary thing for her to admit. Perhaps she was afraid that he would punish her with it. Maybe she wasn't sure how to tell him because she didn't know what it was that she found, only that it frightened her. Whatever the case, he needed to know if she would tell him the truth.

"I was looking for towels," her face was turning bright red, "I found ... there was a belt ...in there," her eyes were wide as she stammered, "I-I shouldn't have been looking!"

There was fear and shame in her eyes. Darcy's husband pushed his chair out from under the table. The room was silent except for his footsteps as he stood up from the table and walked over to her. Darcy stayed seated, but looked ready to run. The terrified expression on her face confirmed Jesse's suspicions. His wife was indeed afraid of him.

"Forgive me, my love." He said as reassuringly as he could. Kneeling beside her, he took her hand in his, "I'm sorry that scared you. But, there's no reason to be afraid; I want you to feel safe here."

Darcy's feelings were a whirlwind. How could she tell him that despite being frightened, the idea of being forced to wear the chastity belt also excited her. In some twisted way it made her feel secure. No, she thought, her nerves were a mess, perhaps she needed to rest and forget about the whole thing.

"As my wife you promised to love and obey me; and I promised to love and respect you. I won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with," he paused, "Do you understand?"

Darcy nodded, then remembered what he had told her before and added, "Yes, I understand."

"Very good," he said getting up. Outside the moon was already glowing. "I think it's almost time we go to bed."

This was the moment she'd been truly nervous about. Everyone had spoken of how painful it would be for her. Women were not allowed to have sex until they were married, and although some women broke the rule, Darcy was not among them. At 20 years old, Darcy had not so much as touched herself, for fear of making it appear that she was not a virgin.

She had known women growing up who had defiled themselves in that way. Darcy had been friends with one such girl. When the girl's father received word that a young man wanted to marry his daughter, he sent her to a special doctor to verify her virgin status. When the doctor saw that she was no longer in tact, the proposal was retracted. Her father furious, had beaten the nineteen-year-old girl severely, despite her promises that she had never been with another man. Darcy wasn't entirely sure if she'd been telling the truth, but they sight of her friend beaten and sobbing as she recounted the tale was enough to strike fear into Darcy's heart. She was almost certain that her father would have done the same.

She hoped her husband would be gentle. Given the way he was treating her tonight, it seemed that she would be in good hands, but it did little to calm her nerves. Her heart was beating quickly and although she knew it was no sin to have sex with her husband, it still felt strange and wrong. For a moment she thought that he might pardon her and not commit to the act tonight, but it seemed a futile hope. After the dishes were cleaned, her husband told her to get into the tub. She went into the bathroom alone and disrobed, stepping into the large tub.

Bare skin against the cold tub, she sat quietly thinking. She was just about to turn the faucet on when she heard a knock at the door. Pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, she hesitated.

"Come in," She replied after a moment.

The door opened. Jesse stood there, shirtless. His chest was strong with dark curls. He was still wearing pants when he knelt beside the tub. He gently pushed her away from the faucet and turned it on, keeping his hand underneath to check the temperature. She noticed how muscular her husband's arms were.

Darcy watched as the tub filled with warm water. She couldn't help but relax. The man grabbed a cloth off of a shelf and a bar of soap. His eyes were focused as he placed his hand behind her neck and washed her arms and back. He didn't ask her to show herself to him, but instead washed only the places she allowed him to see. Darcy saw how gently he was treating her. Slowly, her body opened up for her husband. He stopped himself from looking at her for too long.

Darcy was surprised at how he was avoiding looking at her breasts. Her nipples were hard and her breasts were smooth and white, untouched, like the rest of her body. The cloth grazed her nipple for only a moment. The touch was like lightning, but so brief. She felt too embarrassed to ask him to touch her again. There was something comforting about how he wasn't looking at her sexually. It made her feel important, to simply be taken care of.

That night she climbed into bed, wearing the nightgown she'd been given. It was long and decorated with lace, down to almost her ankles, but very lightweight with long sleeves. Once in the bed, Darcy braced herself. This was the moment.

He was positioned on his side, looking at his wife. She gazed up at him nervously. His lips suddenly pressed against hers. It was so different from the kiss they shared earlier in the chapel. Now his lips felt hot and his hands found their way to her jawline, keeping her in place as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

She let out a moan that was as much of pleasure and it was surprise. Just then, he pulled away from her, kissed her on the head and hugged her. Confused, Darcy laid with her head on his chest, listening to his heart until she fell asleep.

_____

When she woke the next morning, she recalled how it had felt both foreign and somehow safe to sleep in a man's arms. The following days went much the same. He would look at her with such lust, while she cleaned, or cooked, or gardened. They would talk over breakfast and dinner. Then they would go to bed, and kiss, and fall asleep. Darcy began to wonder at his lack of advances.

Her husband was slowly going mad. Bathing and sleeping with his wife every night and never really touching her was enough to keep his mind brimming with sexual thoughts. The only time he looked at her was when she was serving him. He loved looking at her on her knees, while she worked in the kitchen. He adored watching her bend over the table and pull back the curtains just before setting their food on the table each morning. He thought about taking her in each place, filing her throughout the house. But, he knew better than to rush into things before she was ready. He knew it would be better, for both of them if he chose to be patient. She'd seemed so skittish when she first got here; granted she had every reason to be. He reprimanded himself for leaving the belt in such an easy place for her to find.

But, he knew that what he wanted from Darcy would take time. He had to prove himself trustworthy first. What woman in her right mind would want to submit to someone they disrespect or don't trust? Still, he wanted to give her pleasure. In fact, he wanted to be the sole provider of her pleasure. He needed her to want to belong to him in that way.

Over dinner one night, he'd begun to discus one of the books that he was reading. His wife smiled and nodded, but didn't offer much to say. Frustrated, and perhaps a bit disappointed, he took a drink and stood up.

"You know," he took a step towards his wife.

She looked up at him wondering what she'd done wrong. "Don't give me that innocent look." He said disapprovingly. "Do you know what first attracted me to you?"

His wife said nothing. She wasn't sure herself what made him want to marry her.

"It was the way you conducted yourself. When I saw you in town, I noticed how different you seemed from the other women and it drew me to you. It was the way you spoke to others. You weren't sullen and withdrawn. So many women think that being un-amused makes them intelligent. But you were constantly amused and I could see how bright you were because of it. Every time I saw you talking, it was as if you were recounting something magnificent. Perhaps it's my fault. I've taken you away from everyone and everything you knew. Tell me, do you enjoy it here?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"You excite me," she blurted out.

"I excite you?" he said, his voice deeper than before. He crossed his arms as he took another step closer to her. She immediately felt shame at his expression. She stood up, and started to gather the dishes.