My Wife Married A Slave

My wife Sheila and I dated for two years before I proposed to her. During the two years we dated, I told her all about my fetishes (all of them) and she seemed excited enough after listening to some of my experiences. Excited enough to at least give them a try. For the next two years, she and I explored and experimented with one another all the things I had told her I was in to as well as the things she told me she liked.

Sheila quickly admitted she loved sitting on my face because it was a sensational feeling for her to have it buried deeply into her well rounded butt and to feel my nose protruding into her anus when she sat full weight. She also climaxed many times while sitting on it, especially when my tongue did it's magic around her anus and pussy.

She was somewhat hesitant about the trampling that I'd told her I enjoyed, as she feared hurting me. But after assuring her that I could handle it just fine, she agreed to try it. After a week or so of doing it every night for a half an hour or more, she became comfortable with it as well. Now when I asked her to put on her wedge sandals and stomp on my fingers, it took a few days to even convince her to try it. Finally on a Friday night, we had gone out to eat and had a few drinks and when we returned home, she was pretty "happy," from the wine she had drank. I mentioned my desire for her to try stomping on my fingers again, and she was ready to try it. Since she was already wearing her favorite wedges, I lay down on our hard tile floor in the kitchen and placed my hands and fingers flat to the floor.

I have to admit, I was pretty nervous because my wife weighed around 145 pounds at that time and I knew she could stomp very hard, especially with the footwear she had on. I watched as she stepped in front of me and looked down at my hands. She giggled and said, "this is going to hurt you, Baby!" Nervously, I said, give it your best shot!" With that she raised her right foot about knee high.

I took in a deep breath and braced myself as best I could for the pain I knew would come. For several seconds she just held her foot there, looking down at my trembling fingers. "Are you ready?" She asked. "Stomp it!" Was all I could reply.

Suddenly she stomped her heel down extremely hard. Pain shot through my entire body and almost took my breath. The hard, narrow heel of her wedge sandal stomped down squarely on the nail of my right pinky finger, popping it off like a bottle cap. When the pain subsided enough that I could think half way straight, I realized she was still standing on my finger and was laughing at me.

"That was fun! Want me to stomp it some more?" She asked, still giggling. "Go ahead." I said pretending it didn't hurt. She raised her foot then and stomped on my fingers several more times with so much force that the windows were rattling in our home from the impacts. I think she stomped about 8 or 10 more times before she finally stopped.

"It's not nearly as bad as I thought it would be, so anytime you want me to stomp you, just tell me." "Okay," I replied with tears in my eyes from the pain I was in. "What I'd really like to do now is use your mouth because I'm about to piss all over myself." I couldn't believe she was into these things so quickly.

We went to the bathroom and I sat down in front of the toilet and lay my head over inside it. She pulled up her skirt and pulled down her panties and straddled and sat over my face and immediately almost drown me with her hot, sweet piss.

When she finished, I licked her clean, which got her really hot, so she continued to sit, mashing my face down inside the toilet while I licked her to orgasm. She came all over my face and in my mouth. In the process of all her excitement, she farted up my nose several times as well and giggled each time, saying "oops!"

The next morning, when she saw what she had done to my fingers after stomping them, she just laughed and asked "are you sure you still like for me to stomp them?" I told her very quickly that I loved every second of it.

After breakfast, she asked me if I was ready for dessert. At first I didn't understand what she meant. "You know I always have to go poop after breakfast every morning." I smiled and got up and went to the bathroom with her.

Again with my head leaning over in the toilet bowl, Sheila sat down on it, and with my face between her butt cheeks, she let out a couple of very foul smelling farts. I could hear her giggling about it.

Suddenly, with hardly any warning, she pushed a very wet, mushy dump squarely in my mouth and face. Her poop was running down my cheeks, through my hair, around my neck and it seemed there would be no end to it. It was hot and extremely smelly.

Finally, she raised up and grabbed the toilet paper and began wiping, dropping the soiled tissue onto my face. When she finished cleaning herself, she just walked out and left me like that.

I cleaned as much as I could off my face and neck, and then got into the shower and finished the job. When I came into the kitchen, she smiled her beautiful smile and told me she was enjoying all my little secret desires. The next week, we got married.