Four days had passed since I chose to stay with Blake. Things were getting better, thus weakening my resolve. Blake still did things both childish and made me think he was an asshole. Every day, I got progressively more freedoms. The first day after Tyler visited, I woke up uncuffed. Originally, I thought Blake simply forgot. It wasn't until the next day that I started to suspect he would not have me cuffed to the bed every day.
Blake didn't give me complete freedom. Every day, I woke up locked in the same room. Sometimes, Blake would sleep the night with me. He let me out of my cell every day, but only when I could be kept close. Dresses, blouses with skirts, heels, heavy makeup; I had become the stereotypical poster girl of femininity.
Sexually, Blake was amazing and devilishly evil. When he fucked me, it was wonderful. It was never just sex. If I said or forgot to say something he didn't approve of, I was quickly gagged. Ball gags, tape over my lips, cloth shoved in my mouth, ring gags; I never wore the same gag twice in a row.
The punishment was different if I did something he didn't agree with. Most of the time, his reason would be I did something that wasn't very ladylike. Punishment was usually spanks, to the point I couldn't sit down comfortably without a soft cushion, or some embarrassing situation. The worst of which was tying me up naked to a pole in the garden with a sign that said, "I've been bad, feel free to cum on me." None of the neighbors engaged in that particular activity, but plenty took embarrassing pictures.
My biggest complaint, bondage. I always had to be tied or bound for most of the day. Blake's personal favorite was duct tape. He claimed it to be quickly applicable while also retaining an element of elegance. That didn't mean he bound me in tape every time. Sometimes it was rope, which was quickly becoming my favorite or belts which seemed to be the least favored to the both of us. Crotch ropes were more fun than I thought they would be. That aspect of bondage I was more than happy to suffer from. I wouldn't ever tell him that, though.
Surprisingly, sex didn't make up as much of the daily routine as I thought it would. Yeah, sometimes Blake had to attend to his day job, but even when he was home it wasn't always sexual between us. Blake enjoyed cuddling up with me to watch tv shows or movies. To my despair, I said something out of line once and now I was to be permanently gagged during television time.
We took turns cooking dinner, but when I cooked Blake would keep a heavy leash on me. I think he was afraid I'd use a knife to get free or something. There were even times he took me out. Of course, the places were very secluded but equally serene. I could tell he was trying to normalize some aspects for me. It was hard to stomach sometimes, but life was settling down. I was feeling happier.
Today would be the truest test of my complacency. Blake had agreed to allow my sister, Emily, to visit. She'd been calling non stop and Blake was steadily running out of excuses to bat her away with. When Blake finally caved and agreed to allow her to visit, he invited her over for lunch. She basically spit out her food when I told her the address over the phone.
Blake was adamant about how things would go. He would watch me closely, insisting that he be allowed to stay should my sister want some alone time with me. I was to take his side, act like a good wife and such. If I tried to compel my sister to help me, Blake would see to it that Emily took my place.
Emily wasn't exactly my twin, but she looked close enough to me that Blake's slavers wouldn't be able to tell the difference. The threat alone of her being forced to endure a life of slavery was more than enough to keep me behaved. Bonus of taking my place just cemented me further.
Blake told me a bit about what I was originally slated for. I was to be sold for the price of one million dollars to a crooked porn producer who was infamous for forcing slaves to make him money. Just thinking about the living conditions Blake described made me sick to my stomach. That people could keep girls chained in a dark, damp box of a room naked and chained to the wall, fed three meals a day and fucked every day in front of a camera for other perverts money.
My husband didn't know much more about that specific producer but hinted that girls who no longer made enough money were sold to middle easterners or Asian millionaires wanting a western sex slave. I felt practically lucky that Blake had insisted that I belong to him. There was a catch to Blake keeping me, apparently. Blake wouldn't tell me what that condition was, claiming I would hate him for it. It either involved handing me over eventually or something just as twisted, kidnapping more women to take my place to pay off the one million his boss lost on me.
Turning a page of my book I thought would distract me while I awaited Emily's arrival, was doing a poor job of calming me down. One wrong move or comment and I would damn her to a terrible future. Emily wasn't exactly a hardcore feminist like me, but she was smart, like super smart. One day, my little sister would be a lawyer. She didn't know what kind, but Emily had all the time in the world to decide. Hell, she would get the pick of the litter after graduating from Harvard.
To my left, Blake continued to hold me close while playing phone games. I was thankful for our quiet time, especially after getting roughly fucked for three hours. Blake insisted after he said he wouldn't touch me for the rest of the day after. My breasts were sore and my wrists red from my struggling. I hadn't made it through a session without trying to get free of whatever binding he put my hands in. On top of that, my ass felt like it was on fire from the excessive spanking he gave me. Blake claimed it to be a "maintenance spanking," reminding me of my place beneath him.
Inhaling a shaky breath, I caught the attention of my husband. The worry in his golden eyes spoke volumes of how he felt. I may be his property, he may have treated me like property, but he still loved me dearly and would move heaven and earth to protect me. Blake kissed my forehead, the contact of his lips erasing some of my more anxious nerves.
"Thank you, sir."
"It'll be okay. Just try your best to behave today. I don't want to make Emily take your place, troublemaker. And I know how much it would kill you. So we have to work together on this okay?"
"I know, sir," I said with a weak smile. "May I please have a kiss, sir?"
Without giving me a reply, his lips pressed to mine. My nerves quieted instantly, and I was able to relax some. Affection still affected me, despite my love-hate relationship with Blake. It was my way of calming down when I got worked up.
Blake and I talked out what happened that day with Tyler. I explained how I just wanted affection to calm me down. Blake told me that if I ever needed affection to calm down again, just ask politely. At first, I found the idea demeaning, but after getting used to it, it wasn't so bad. Besides, kisses were pretty great.
"Thank you, sir." I whispered into his neck.
It was worrying that I was developing such feminine habits. Feminity felt naturally weak, and I hated weakness more than anything. One of the big appeals of feminist independence was feeling empowered and strong. Blake tried to convince me that even submissive women could have a similar level of power if they knew how to tap it. Conveniently, Blake hadn't elaborated on how I could go about doing that. Maybe he would tell me when he trusted I wasn't going to run away.
The doorbell rang, ending my calm before the storm. Blake and I met each other's gaze. He gave me a sharp nod, expression serious. I stood up and went to greet our guests. The thing was, when I opened the door Emily wasn't alone. At her side was one of my best friends and a fanatical feminist.
Emily wore a simple blue and white striped dress, just barely resting above her ankles. Kylie's outfit was more or less typical for her. Dark blue jeans, sneakers and a black band tee shirt she's had since high school. Kylie had a skeptical look on her normally perfect face.
Shit. This just got a million times harder.
"Kylie!" I shouted in surprise, trying to cover my worry at seeing her.
I'd known Kylie since fifth grade. We were that childhood friendship that withstood the test of time. The slender blonde eyed me curiously with her usual wandering hazel eyes. It was no secret Kylie was a lesbian, or that she had a girl boner for me.
"Brittany!" I didn't even get a second word in before the tall, short-haired blonde embraced me in a tight hug. With her boobs pressed against mine, I felt a slight tingle of arousal. They were still sore from being slapped the other day when I forgot to address Blake as sir. "I can't believe you got married! And especially to a guy."
Kylie hadn't bothered to hide her resentment. I remembered the day I told her I had started seeing Blake romantically. Kylie practically lost her mind and didn't speak to me for a month. This was a disaster waiting to happen.
"Kylie," Blake commented flatly from behind me.
