This story is a story of domination and retribution, and includes both vaginal and anal sex. There is no loving in this story. There are also no second chances.
Matt stood before me in our kitchen. I knew he had somehow found out about my fucking with the owner of the beauty shop I frequented. He wasn't loud or violent. I started to get up out of my chair and he held up one hand. I stopped.
His voice was like sand and velvet. Soft and smooth but with enough grit that I knew to pay close attention.
"You have disappointed me. Eight years I have taken care of you, loved you, shown you my world and shared it with you. You repay this by inviting another man inside your cunt."
He had never used that word before. Vagina, pussy, slit and slippery heaven he had used but never cunt!
"I have not decided if I can forgive you. I have decided that I must punish you. I cannot allow you to use me for eight years and then casually walk away without being punished somehow."
"I am sorry..."
"Stop! I will not hear that! You may be sorry but if you are it is because you got caught! If you had fucked him and come to me that night I would have believed you were sorry. You fucked him last month. I found out by being called by a friend who heard him brag about the event. No, sorry isn't going to work. You will pay."
I was crying. He was right. I felt guilty for fucking Bob but not so guilty I would have ever told Matt or asked for forgiveness. I wondered if I could just leave and never come back.
"Outside the house there are two men. They are professionals. They will watch the house so that no one leaves and no one enters except me. The phones no longer work. The computers are no longer in the house. You are here until I decide what to do with you. Do you understand?"
I decided that speaking was not a good idea. I nodded my head without looking at Matt directly.
He put a pad and a pen in front of me.
"Write this down. Between now and Friday evening at six you will accomplish these things. You will pack everything that is yours into boxes that will be on the back porch by eight tonight. When each box is full you will put it back on the back porch. Save from packing one pair of slip-on shoes, not heels, a loose fitting dress that buttons up the front. Pack all your jewelry and other personal effects. Throw away all perfumes, colognes, deodorants and other perishables. By six o'clock Friday evening all traces of you will either be in the trash or in those boxes."
As he paused I finished writing the instructions. I was scared and yet focused on making sure I got the instructions perfect.
"At six o'clock on Friday you will be dressed in the loose dress and the slip-on shoes. You will be wearing no jewelry, make-up, perfume, deodorant or powder. Every hair on your body will be gone. Shave after four o'clock on Friday afternoon. Make sure you get every hair, arms, head, eyebrows, cunt. You will not be wearing a bra, slip, panties, hose, pantyhose, or anything except the dress and the shoes. At exactly six you will open the door and step outside. Lock the door from outside and put the key back in the house through the mail slot. A man will be waiting for you and will drive you where he has been instructed to take you. Do not speak to him. He will give you instructions. Follow those instructions. Failure to do any of these things will result in pain. Do you understand?"
I nodded.
"Do you have any questions?"
I nodded.
"Ask,"
"When the punishment is over what will happen?"
"I haven't decided. I am having you prepare for the possibility that after the punishment you will never see me again. It is possible your things will be returned to you and you will be free to go and do whatever you want with your life. Mentally I would like you to prepare yourself for the possibility that our marriage is over and that you will never see me or your rings again."
He held out his hand. He wanted my rings. I had worn them from the wedding until that moment. Slowly I worked them off my hand and put them in his. Tears fell and I sobbed. He put the rings in his pocket.
"I do not want to give you false hope about what will happen, and I want to ask; Do you want me to keep you as my wife after the punishment?"
"Yes!"
Matt turned and walked out of the kitchen. He kept walking and soon was out the door. I sat at the table and cried for a long time. When I did get up I looked out the back door and saw a man sitting on one of our lawn chairs positioned so he could see two sides of our house. I didn't need to look, the other man could see the other two sides of our house.
When the boxes were delivered I heard the commotion and looked out the window. After the delivery person was gone I brought in the first stack of boxes. There were instructions and labels. I was to label each box with what it contained. Some labels said, "TRASH/BASURA."
I cried some more and then set to work. I worked until the clock in the bedroom read 1:25am. I carried boxes down stairs and put them on the porch. Each time I brought more boxes down the packed boxes I had put on the porch were gone. The stack of empty boxes stayed the same size. I brought twenty boxes in and the next time I looked those had been replaced.
At 1:30am I ate. Then I went to bed. I woke up at about dawn and went back to work. When I brought the first box down to put it on the porch I made coffee and when I brought down the second box I drank a cup. Noon came and I noticed I was hungry so I ate something. I had not showered or cleaned up at all. I was doing what Matt had instructed. I knew inside that if I didn't do everything just as he instructed I had no chance of ever coming back here or seeing him again.
In my closet I looked for a dress that fit the description he had given me. I found one that would do, if I left off the belt. I set aside one pair of slip-on shoes and the dress. Everything else I packed. By three o'clock on Friday afternoon the house showed no signs that I had ever been there, except for the dress and shoes. As I prepared to shower I put a box in the bathroom that I could put my razor, scissors and my t-shirt in. It had the label, "TRASH/BASURA."
Not knowing when I would next be offered food I went to the kitchen and ate. I finished and cleaned up behind myself. No trace that I had ever been there.
At 4:05pm I was back in the master bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror and cut my hair. I cut it short enough that I could then shave my head in the shower. At the first cut I saw that my beautiful hair was ruined and I cried. As I cried I kept cutting. I threw each clump in the toilet and flushed often. At four o'clock I had long blond hair that hung to my bra strap and shined in the sun. By four thirty I had a quarter inch of stubble and red puffy eyes. I got in the shower and washed everything. After I was clean I picked up the razor and started with my head. I remembered my eyebrows and then used the razor all over my skin. I was careful and didn't get any nics. After I got out of the shower the woman I saw in the mirror didn't even look like she was from Earth! I didn't even recognize myself! I noticed that I still had eyelashes. I took my time and did get them off as well.
The dress fit like a bag, shapeless and ugly. It was OK, I felt shapeless and ugly. I slipped the shoes on and went downstairs carrying the box of trash. At 5:55pm I put the trash out on the back porch and closed the door. I walked to the front door and from there watched the clock in the living room. When it read 6:00 pm I opened the door with my key in my hand. A man stood just off the porch. I stepped out and closed the door. He could see that I had no hair! The tears fell and I had trouble locking the door. When I finally got it locked I had trouble getting the key back in the house through the mail slot.
As I turned to leave the porch the man held out his hand. I took it and he led me to a black limo. He opened the door and said, "Inside you will find a hood. Put it over your head making sure that you cannot see anything."
I sat in the back with a black cloth bag over my head. I could breathe alright but I could see nothing. The ride took a while and made many turns and a few stops.
Finally the limo stopped and I heard a door open. A hand grabbed my arm and I was helped out. I could tell we were outside and that it felt dark and a little cool. The sounds were not city sounds. I felt hands grasp the neckline of the dress and suddenly they pulled and ripped the dress from me! I was nude! I gasped! I started to use my hands to cover my breasts or my pussy but when I moved my hands they were grasped and held. Other hands examined me and those hands missed nothing except what was under the hood.
When the examination was over I was led inside and I heard the doors close behind me. I was made to step out of the shoes and from then on felt the cool wooden floor beneath my feet. No one spoke. The hands that held me were gloved. Was Matt one of these hands? I could not tell. I trembled in both fear and anticipation.
I was led to a wooden table and told by a female voice to lie down on my back. I did. My hands were pulled to one end of the table and held. My feet were pulled toward the other end of the table.
"Listen carefully. You are not permitted to speak words. You may moan, scream, yell, or make any noises you wish to make. No words in any language. If you use a word you will feel pain. If you do it a second time you will get more pain. The only exception to this is if you do not understand an instruction. You may say, "Again." You will hear the instruction one more time. If you do not understand and do not follow the instruction you will feel pain."
Another voice. "Sit up."
I sat up. A belt or strap was passed around my chest just under my breasts. Someone held my breasts so they were not caught under the strap. It was tightened until it was impossible to take a deep breath. My arms were folded over my chest and on top of the strap. My arms thus folded, a wide strap was passed under the chest strap and bound my arms to the chest strap and each other.
Hands tilted me back until my back was again flat on the table. Two clips were attached to my nipples. They were not so tight they hurt, but tight enough they would not be ignored.
"Spread your legs."
A man's voice. It was spoken softly but clearly it was an order. I spread. A slap on my inner thigh let me know that I was not spread far enough. I spread until my feet were off the sides of the table.
Fingers probed my pussy. Something was spread inside my vagina with two fingers. It felt good. I moved just a bit and the fingers spread the stuff inside me. They withdrew and my pussy was slapped, hard. I yelped and tried to move. Two more slaps and I stopped moving.
The hands that held my ankles lifted my legs and brought my thighs to my chest. Another strap went under the chest strap and around each thigh.
