Paying for car repairs.
Car Trouble -- 2
Louise's secret journal from previous instalment.
John asked me to write about my feelings about our new relationship. That made me horny, and it was fun to write. I read some of it to him but there are things I can't admit to him. Writing seemed to help organise my thoughts about new, kinky, sex with him. This is to try and organise my secret thoughts that he will never read. I don't expect it to make much sense, more a 'stream of consciousness' that I will add to and maybe edit.
I have started writing this while kneeling naked on the table, facing him, with my legs apart, while he makes dinner. He thinks I am writing my other journal.
The strength of my feelings terrifies me. He mentioned piercing my nipples and clit. Is that all? Does he realise that I would cut off my arm if he wanted it.
He tells me I am strong. I love to hear it, but it isn't true. He taunts me with something I can work on to be strong. I try to control my orgasms because he wants that. I always enjoyed making love with him, but I didn't always cum. Now he controls me cumming, and I am on a hair-trigger all the time. He stops me cumming and all I want to do is let go; but I don't because he likes to make me desperate.
Strong, what a joke.
When he spanks me, I get crazy. I didn't think I was a masochist -if I stub my toe, I shout and swear. Why does it make me so hot when he slaps my breasts or my clit? It hurts! I even encourage him. Am I sick?
When he makes me cum (or lets me cum) I feel so close to him, spiritual almost. When he pampers me, I feel his love. I love making him 'lose it'. Is he just 'in lust' with my body or does he love ME?
I have tried to be independent and not rely too much on him. I have my job and my friends, but they are such an insignificant part of my life. Does he know how much I need him? I don't want to be a mere accessory to his life. I used to pity the whores who allowed their men to sell them to others for sex. I didn't understand how they would give up so much to somebody else. I understand better now. I am so glad that John is honourable, if he wanted to pimp me out, I don't think I would be able to refuse him. How fucking pathetic.
I do feel pathetic and weak. I try to stand up for myself, but it can make me seem bitchy. I know that he doesn't want a brainless bimbo. I push back sometimes, trying not to lose myself completely in him. Perhaps that is why I pushed the boundaries by taking his damn car. I am secretly glad that I bent it. I love how he is treating me now. It is so exciting, but I am terrified that he will tire of me.
The more of myself that I give, the better I feel, but it makes me so vulnerable. Even thinking about serving him makes me wet. 'Serving him'? Am I that submissive? I can be a 'hard arse bitch' with other people who upset me.
I know he loves my body and I try to keep it nice for him. What will he think when I get older? I once asked him if he ever wanted to be with other women. He said he 'didn't need anyone else if he had me'. Will that always be true?
He married me even though he knew I couldn't give him children. I would sign a pact with the devil if I could give him kids, although he never mentions it. The only up-side is that I never get a period or PMS so he can always have me.
I have just had an idea too frightening to even write down. I don't want to even think about it. I know the idea won't leave me alone now. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! This idea is going to drive me crazy.
Monday morning.
I fell asleep quickly although Louise seemed restless. I was woken in the early hours with a languorous and slightly tearful blowjob. I was too tired to enquire deeply into her reasons, she merely said how much she loved me. I slept deeply until the smell of coffee and bacon woke me.
After a visit to the bathroom, I was pleased to see my beautiful wife setting the table, completely naked. I sat down and patted my lap to invite her to sit there. She sat down carefully, and I realised that she was still wearing a butt plug. I reached around her and cut up my meal. I fed and fondled her, and she kissed me deeply.
"Are you okay?" I asked her, you were restless last night, and you are quiet this morning."
"I am a bit overwhelmed by what is happening to me, to us. I feel very vulnerable. My body loves what you are doing but my mind is in pieces. I feel helpless."
"Does feeling helpless make you worried or excited?"
"A bit of both. Very excited, but the worry is mostly about how you feel about the 'new me'."
My 'phone announced an incoming message. I was ignoring most work-related calls, but this was from the garage. I saw the estimate and turned the screen towards her.
"Oh John, I didn't think it would cost that much. I am so sorry. No wonder you wanted to make me pay somehow. I will try to be very good for you... or very bad."
"It is only money, and we are not short of money. If we needed more, I could easily take on more contracts, take on a manager, or employ a specialist to chase up my patents more thoroughly. If we wanted to convert more outbuildings or add more bedrooms, we might need extra income but there seems little reason to. We have enough for us two to live well without stress...
"I am enjoying 'making you pay' much more than the repair to a damn car is worth. Don't be concerned about the car. After we drop off the car in the garage, I have a plan for you I think you will like."
I told Louise that, unfortunately, she would have to put on clothes and follow me in her car after I dropped off mine at the garage. "Only a summer frock, no underwear and give me a 45-minute start to talk to the garage. You could update your journal while you wait to collect me."
Secret Journal update.
Quick update before I carry on with my 'proper journal'. John is so good to me. When he mentioned not needing to have more bedrooms, I felt inadequate again. Why can't I give him kids?
My worrying idea kept me awake last night.
What does he have planned for me today?
Monday late morning, lunch and after.
When we arrived home in Louis' car, she was on tenterhooks. She took off her clothes immediately and it was obvious that she was aroused. I explained that I had a little work to do in the spare room and, her 'surprise' would be after lunch. I told her to take care of shaving and internal cleaning which made her jumpier.
After my work in the spare room, I showered and sat down to lunch. I told her to get the nipple clamps and chains. I put on recently purchased wrist cuffs and attached a ten-inch chain to each. After she clamped her nipples, I told her to attach one nipple to each of the wrist chains. She stood at the table and had to lean over to reach her food. Each movement of her hands to take, or cut food, made her perky tits wobble and sway. Not painful for her but undoubtedly arousing.
She rinsed the dishes and needed to bend carefully to load the dishwasher. At first, she squatted to make the loading easier on her nipples, but I insisted that she stand and bend. After each trip between the sink and the washer, she stood with her feet a little further apart as she bent over. The chains between nipples and wrists ensured that she required all her gym fit flexibility to bend so far. Her freshly shaved folds were slightly swollen and were glistening with moisture. She was very conscious of my gaze and shuffled her feet apart further and wriggled her bottom a little. No hiding that but plug!
When she finished, I held and kissed her. I told her to remove her plug, wash it, remove the clamps, and use the toilet but leave on the wrist cuffs. She returned a little flushed and seemed apprehensive.
"You said feeling helpless excited you, but you worried about how I perceived the 'new you'. I am going to show you. I want you to always remember these two things when we play. First, I love you; second, I will always keep you safe. If you get too frightened in a fantasy play, I will say something with the word 'two' in it to remind you not to worry. I might say I am going to lock you up for two days -- I won't really. Tell me what I have explained." She repeated it nearly word-for-word.
I collected the supplies that I had collected earlier. Took two of her cotton wool wipes and, after she closed her eyes, placed one on each eyelid and covered them with an airline sleep mask. She was unable to open her eyes.
I took her hand and gently led her to the spare room. I fitted ankle cuffs and thigh cuffs. Further supplies from my shopping trip on my way to the garage. Louise was nervous, disorientated and shaking slightly. I held her close and reassured her that this would not hurt but was a demonstration of how I loved her and would help assuage her fear of being helpless.
I helped her to sit on the end of a padded bench that I had placed under one of the exposed ceiling beams. I laid her back and clipped her wrists to eye bolts that I had just fitted to the bench. She was panting softly. I used kitchen wrap under the bench and around her ribcage, below her breasts. A second wrap under her arms, around the bench and above her breasts. A final wrap secured her hips to the bench. She could move her pelvis and shoulders and her feet were resting on the floor with her legs free to move.
"Are you okay?"
