It was reasonably early that evening as she walked down the hallway to the bedroom. It had been a long day, but she was looking forward to a relaxing evening in front of the television watching her favorite shows. She was a lovely woman, short, with wonderful legs on a body to match. Today, she hadn't changed out of her work clothes, so she still wore her blue long sleeve silk blouse with three buttons open, allowing her small, but well-sculpted cleavage to show above the black shelf bra. The cool air of the air conditioner had stimulated her nipples, and they stood proudly against the silk. Further down, she wore a knee-length black linen pencil skirt with a slit over the left thigh that allowed just a hint of a black stocking top to peek out as she walked. On her feet were a pair of conservative and sexy four-inch black patent pumps that sculpted her already gorgeous legs.
As she entered the bedroom, she noted that her husband had set out some clothes and a note for her. "Ah, he wants to play tonight!" she thought to herself as she picked up the note.
"Darling, I've set out what I'd like you to wear this evening. I'll be home a bit late, but I'll call when I'm leaving the office so you can be sure to be ready by the time I get home."
She examined what he had set out for her. Some of it she hadn't seen before, but it looked and felt really good. First, there were the essentials. They weren't there! No thong, no bra, not even a garter belt, and he loved garter belts. He always said they framed her shaved and beautiful pussy like the work of art it was. There were nude stay-up stockings, with wide lacy tops, so he hadn't forgotten; he really intended she have no underwear. He had chosen her "kinky" jewelry set: a silver, custom made slave collar with a ring on the front, a pair of matching silver slave bracelets, and simple pair of dangly diamond earrings.
The dress was one she'd never seen, and probably wouldn't wear just anywhere. It was a red halter dress, cut amazingly low in the front – so low it probably couldn't hide a bra, but it had a bra built in, complete with a little padding and underwires. And the back was, well, almost obscene. It dove with no modesty at all to the level of her waist, and then a few inches more! All of her back was exposed, including the top inch or two of her buttocks. Now she understood why there was no underwear. Anything would show under this dress. The skirt fell to just below her knees, but had four overlapping panels that would open when she walked, leaving nothing to the imagination if she wasn't very careful. Then there was a pair of new red shoes that matched the dress perfectly. Five inch sandals that laced around the ankle, making them look bound together. "Well, no long walks, that's for sure."
Taking it all in, she assessed the new outfit and was unable to determine exactly what he had in mind, except that he was clearly feeling a bit kinky. She decided that, since he hadn't called, at it took almost an hour for him to get home, she'd treat herself to a long warm bath in the tub. A few candles, some soft music, maybe a glass of wine to get into the mood of the evening.
She was startled awake by what she though was the door opening. "Honey?" No answer. She shook herself awake, realizing that she must have fallen asleep in the tub. It was probably the effect of the warm water and the wine. But she felt great. She raised herself from the tub, grabbed the new razor and soap, and proceeded to shave her legs and pussy. If he wanted to play, she wanted to be perfect for him. When she was done, she pulled the plug and toweled off.
Examining herself in the full length mirror, she marveled at the fact that her husband considered her to be extremely sexy. All she saw was "too short, too small in the chest, and mousy brown hair." She heaved a deep sigh, then realized that she was a little cool with no clothes on, and she still had to do her hair and makeup.
Hair was first. She pulled the ribbon that had kept it from the water and began brushing it out. "Up or down?" she wondered to herself as she realized, "If he's thinking kinky, I'll bet down is the right answer." So she brushed out her shoulder-length hair, teasing it to give it a little more body. Cocking her head to one side, she thought, "Well, it's actually not all that bad when it's fixed, is it?" Makeup next. Dark eye shadow, dark liner, plenty of mascara, but not so much as to look like a hooker. Lipstick? A red to match the dress, of course. Perfume. Behind the ears, the knees, the wrists, definitely the cleavage, and the insides of her thighs. "I'll refresh when I hear the car in the driveway."
Then she dressed. More candles and soft music. First, the stockings. Nope, no runners. She smoothed them over first one leg, then the other, carefully stretching the lycra and lace bands over her upper thighs. Then the earrings, the collar and cuffs. "I wonder what he has in mind?" she mused as she reached for the left shoe first, but with some small reluctance. After all, new shoes tended to be a bit stiff and might need to be worked in some. To her surprise, however, the shoes were of exceedingly find workmanship and the leather, though firm, was soft and pliable. The left shoe fit like a glove and the laces were even the right length to wrap around her ankle several times.
Then the right shoe. And a problem: There was something wedged under the toe straps. She pulled out a small wad of paper with a ribbon around it. Unwrapping it, she found a silver ring inside, with a note attached: "You'll remember this ring from the movie. Place it on your left index finger." Yes, she remembered.
They had seen The Story of O some time ago when he "forced" her to watch the DVD. At that time, she was still pretty naive, and was shocked by the violence of the movie, but intrigued by O herself and her seeming enjoyment of being a slave. Since then, she'd even consented, sometimes reluctantly, to adding more and more "kinkiness" to their sex life, now even enjoying being tied. Actually, although she would blush to admit it in public, she now even asked to be tied sometimes, often when he wanted her to suck his cock, as she knew how much it turned him on. She placed the ring on her finger, admiring it, and feeling her pussy become damp at the thought of an evening as her husbands "slave." She checked the right shoe again, just in case, and put it on and laced it around her ankle. Then she stood and took a few tentative steps around the room, discovering the shoes were actually quite comfortable.
Pleased with herself, she returned to the dress and slipped it over her head, feeling the soft fabric caress first her shoulders, then her breasts, and finally, her soft but firm ass. It was a caress that reminded her of her husband's hands moving over her body. She adjusted her breasts within the built-in in bra, and then smoothed the rest of the dress over her body.
Standing in front of the mirror, she examined herself. "Truly slutty," as she smiled a wickedly sinful smile, knowing the effect it would have on him when he saw her. She was his: wife, whore, slut, and slave, to do with as he wished. She knew this was going to be good evening.
With that thought, she realized her wine glass was empty, so she returned to the living room, where the bar was, to refill her glass. As she did, she thought she heard a noise in the kitchen, and called out, "Hello?" No response, so, being sure she had heard something this time, she walked into the kitchen. As she did, her world went black.
She awoke, who knows how much later, feeling odd, but otherwise fine. She was in her own bed and her hair was being stroked. Her husband must have come home and found her? No, that couldn't be right. She realized she couldn't see anything, as her eyes were completely covered with some soft fabric. When she tried to reach up and remove it, she found her hands fastened to the head of the bed, and her ankles to the foot. She was still clothed, apparently, but it felt like the dress had opened, exposing her to whoever did this to her. She listened carefully but heard nothing. There was just the gentle stroking of her hair. She spoke, or rather, tried to speak. Her mouth was filled, and all that came out was "Mmpmphph!"
