I hope you know how ready I am to take our mutual love of my shit to the next level and that this past weekend has given you some idea as to just how ready.
I had promised to write you a story for your birthday. Happy Birthday Baby! I'm hoping through this story to ensure we have a hot night of sex, not just tonight, in celebration of your day, but also to make it clear just how ready I am to blow your mind next week in celebration of our anniversary. So here goes.
There are better things to blow out on your birthday than candles!
By Your Anal Slut Wife
We've booked a few days at a vacation home in Maine to celebrate our anniversary and while I was already looking forward to it, this morning you surprised me with a wrapped present and card a week early. Was this a pre-anniversary present or a thank you for one of the hottest few nights of dirty sex, ever?
My bottom is still sore and full after the hurt you've put on it these last few nights and it throbs greedily as you place the card and wrapped gift in my outstretched hands. I smile as I open your card. In it, you've written "I got your message and I agree, you're definitely ready!" My pussy is instantly wet.
I carefully unwrap the gift I'm holding to reveal the black rubber butt plug that we've fantasized about for a long time now. I swallow and look into your eyes. You smile back. That beautiful smile of yours, the one that reminds me of how lucky I feel to be your wife and how handsome you are. I love the crinkle that's there around your eyes, now that you're older. You don't know it but you're very sexy! Your eyes sparkle as you ask "When was the last time you took a shit?" Looking down, I answer. "Yesterday morning", with a guilty look on my face.
At that, you frown and say, "Didn't I tell you Saturday night that if you had to take a shit you were to tell me?" I can see you're angry, but I still feel uncomfortable having you present when I'm taking a shit which is why I didn't tell you. Shaking your head in disgust, you tell me to get on all fours.
I start to get in position on the bed when you tell me that only good girls get to be in your bed. Girls like me need to be punished. At that you instruct me to get on my hands and knees on the floor. I do as I'm told, facing away from you. You take the position behind me and begin whipping me with your belt.
I sense the change in you the moment you start. Generally, you're apologetic if you hit me in an awkward way. Today, you care very little about my discomfort and, as ashamed as I am to admit it, it's a total turn on. I spread my ass cheeks apart so you can gain better access and, as if on cue, you slap my puckered hole, making it swell instantly.
This takes me back to the Saturday before when we stopped in the adult book store and bought some dirty movies. At the pay counter there was an advertisement for some male-enhancing concoction whose slogan was "One to Wreck it. Two to Kill it." I hadn't been able to get that slogan off my mind. There have been several times since that I've wanted to beg you to "kill it", never imagining that I could be so bold.
At that moment, without thinking, I moan out "I want you to kill my ass baby". "I want you to train me to love my shit the way you do". You immediately shove two fingers inside my shithole, reaming me out as I writhe in a mixture of pleasure and pain. You pull my shitter apart and shove the greased plug up my butthole stopping me up and giving me that full feeling you know I love.
You lean over and tell me that I while you want to believe that I am indeed ready for you to own my bowels, the proof is in the pudding. Afterall, you gave me one simple instruction to follow and while I seem to have understood it - and was eager to submit to it at the time - I clearly failed. You threaten that until I prove myself you're through playing. Saying that you're sick of my saying how turned on I'd be to give you full control of my bowels and that while it's clear I love anal play, the idea of your being in charge is clearly just talk. What's this? Are you calling my bluff?
I ask myself just how serioius I am. I don't know if I can go through with this but it's obviously time to put up shut if I want this shit play to continue. When I ask "What you need for proof?" You reply. "If this plug is still in place when we get to Maine, I promise to wreck your shithole til you beg me to cover you in it from head-to-toe."
Fuck! So now the ball is in my court. It's been three days and we are leaving for Maine tomorrow. I am full, uncomfortable and cranky, but also extremely horny and quivering with anticipation. The idea that you are also at work today with thirteen of the yappiest bitches you could put together on a team - each one more annoying than the next - has me itching to see you.
You are always short tempered and quick to lash out when I show any signs of not being sweet to you on "hump" day, which begins your work week. You've spent far too much time with those whiney bitches by the days end and the last thing you need right now is for me to even come close to resembling one of those clucking hens. I'll have to be careful not to push you too far. Just enough so you feel like a "man-in-charge", but not so hard it spoils the mood. It will be important to show you my love and respect, while still poking you enough to try your patience, so you'll enjoy putting me in my place.
I'm lucky enough to know just how far I can go and, as I said, I want you to kill my shithole tomorrow night when it's good and packed; wrecking it for all eternity. You're certainly man enough to do it and God knows I need it. I'll definitely use those annoying cunts to my full advantage. I'm sure you'd be more than happy to put any one of those yappy bitches in there place, just to get them to shut the fuck up! If you ask me, they could all stand a good ass whooping.