About Me

As I'm writing this account of my life, I'm reliving those events in my mind. I skipped over many, many things that have happened before that church double dildo episode of my life, thinking them irrelevant for my story. But as I put words to "paper" I suddenly realized how some of those events were leading right up things evolving as the have had.

As the first days of my husband's control over my body were enfolding, at every step he was discovering how far he could take his will over my feelings for the church and their preaching.

As I have stated before, I don't condone his behavior, but I too have seen that we had drifted so far from one another, so I found excuses for him, and for what he was doing to me in the fact that we were working things out.

With the very first demands he had of me, I wasn't hurt, nor was anything that he did to me known to anyone but the two of us. For me that was the line that couldn't be crossed, and since no one knew that he was fucking me silly at home, it was OK, if that meant that we would still be together. The other important thing to me was that I didn't willingly participate. If he could be satisfied with fucking a flesh doll, so be it!

When I thought about the other couples in church, I knew that they must have been having sex, I even knew a couple of older "sluts" that were almost flaunting their adventures at picnics! But for me to be a true believer, one would have to abstinent all together. That idea, was what had brought this all to pass.

Our very first encounters were in absolute darkness, it then progressed to me being blindfolded in the privacy of our bedroom, with the lights on, and later he would blindfold me any time he wanted to have me, anywhere in the house!

When he started buying me the "slutty" clothes to wear, I wore them in the house and only when we were alone; which at that time was almost always, since we had alienated everybody previously with all of our bickering!

I mentioned our kids, they were very little when all of this was taking root, so they weren't aware of all of the turmoil in the house.

My husband had taken upon himself to shave my ass and pussy religiously, he used body lotions on me constantly, giving me the pleasure of the nonsexual touches that relaxed me. Every morning he would lay out the outfit that I was to wear that day, and since it didn't conflict with my appended religious view, I would comply. He was very careful around me, never mentioning anything sexual in any context, let alone any of the things that he had done to me. He acted as if I was wearing the most proper clothes and as if my ass an pussy weren't in his face all of the time.

That was probably the reason that he had taken sex out of the bedroom! He probably just couldn't handle the constant arousal that my naked body was having on him.

I never flaunted my body at him, even before we had our troubles, but I knew that he loved looking at me. Now, with his new dress code, there was nothing hidden; as I worked around the house, bending down, bending over, reaching out, or just sitting down and watching TV, I was in his face all of the time!

I didn't need a safe word, he never hurt me, he never had a reason to. As I would see him pulling out the blindfold, I would squeeze my eyes shut, let him put it on me and let him fuck me until he took the blindfold off. He would clean me off before he would free me of the blindfold, so that I could continue with what I was doing as if nothing had happened! I would never stop him or interfere with him while he had his way with me!

I had my place in the dark, behind the blindfold, to where I would go and hide, a place from where I would fight the stimulation that was forced upon my body. At various times I had more, and other times less success! Every day I had to fight the arousal that my slutty attire had on me, the silky garments gently caressed my soft skin making my pussy ooze constantly!

Another sign that I had missed! My objections were in vain, so long as my pussy was wet and accommodating! It never entered my mind, until I started writing today, what message my pussy was giving him!

In those days he carried the soft scarf in his shirt pocket, with a corner peeking out. When I would see him reach for the pocket, I remember that I could feel my pussy start to drool, he had conditioned me like Pavlov had his dogs! By the time he had his cock up against the lips of my pussy, the road was hot and slick, just to slip in!

With that kind of message, he would have have to have known that what he was doing to me wasn't all that bad!