The Wife's Command

The dining room had barely cleared when she turned to her husband with that commanding tone that left no room for argument. "Go to the store. We need more wine." He left without a word, the front door clicking shut behind him. She led you down the hallway to their private bedroom, the door closing with a soft but final sound. She didn't waste time with pleasantries.

"You know exactly why he brought you here tonight," she said, stepping closer. "He's been hard since the moment you walked through the door. Rock hard through the entire meal, thinking about your mouth on his cock." She studied your face, then asked directly, "You want to suck his cock, don't you?" "Yes," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "So much. But I don't want you angry with me." Her smile was sharp. "I want his cock in your mouth five to seven times a day. Every single day this month. And you're going to swallow every load he gives you." She stepped even closer, her voice dropping lower. "When you're at the office, he's going to call me while you're on your knees. I want to hear every wet sound your mouth makes around him. Every gulp when he finishes down your throat."

She reached out and straightened your collar, almost tender. "Do we understand each other?" "Yes, yes, yes—whatever you want, just tell me," you replied, heart pounding. She smirked, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Follow me. If you're going to be his personal sex toy, you're going to be spotless." She led you into the master bathroom. The lights were bright and clinical. She pointed at the shower. "Strip. Everything off." You obeyed, clothes dropping to the tile. She handed you a bottle of Nair. "Hair goes. All of it except your head." You lathered every inch below your neck, the chemical smell sharp in the air. She watched, arms crossed, as the cream did its work. When you rinsed, your skin came out smooth and bare.

"Now the enemas," she said. She filled the bag three times, making you bend over the tub each round. Warm water flooded in, then rushed out, leaving you empty and trembling. After the third, she declared you clean. She squeezed a generous amount of thick lube onto her fingers and worked it deep into your hole, twisting and stretching until you were slick and open. "That's better. Ready for your new secret lover." She handed you a towel. "Dry off. Then listen carefully." "You'll email me after every session. Tell me exactly what you loved—how his cock tasted, how much cum you swallowed, how your throat felt when he finished. Every detail."

"Next weekend we'll decide if you move in as our live-in whore. Quit the company. We'll cover everything—money, food, healthcare, a room here. All you have to do is be available." She stepped closer, voice dropping to a purr. "Your number-one goal every waking hour is to suck his cock, ride his cock, lick his cock, balls, and ass clean—four or five times a day, minimum. And you love that idea, don't you, sissy slut? I can see it all over your face." She gave your smooth ass a sharp slap. "Now get dressed and go home. Tomorrow at the office, the real work begins." But she didn't let you leave yet. Instead, she pushed you toward the bed, her strong hands guiding you down. "On your knees first. Let's see how well you follow orders."

She stripped off her dress with confident ease, revealing smooth skin and a harness she quickly secured around her hips. The thick strap-on jutted out, realistic and demanding. "Show me what that mouth can do on this before you get the real thing," she commanded, her tone laced with wit. "Imagine it's his hard cock—don't disappoint me, or you'll be licking the floor instead of swallowing cum." You leaned in, tongue swirling around the tip, sucking it deep as she gripped your hair. Her free hand reached down, stroking your own cock, which was already hard and dripping from the tension. "That's it, get it wet and dripping like the horny slut you are," she teased, her voice sharp and amused. "Panting already? Good."

The build intensified as she thrust gently, making you take more while her fingers worked your lubed ass, stretching you further. You were sweating, body on fire, her pussy visible and wet just above the harness, the scent driving you wild. She pulled back, pushing you onto the bed and straddling your face. "Lick my pussy while I finish you off," she ordered, lowering herself as her hand pumped your cock faster. Your tongue delved into her wet folds, tasting her arousal as she rode your face, moaning with control. "Suck that strap-on later like it's his—make him cum down your throat five times a day, swallow every drop."

The climax hit hard: she ground against your mouth, her pussy dripping as she came with a sharp cry, her hand milking your cock until you exploded, cum spilling over her fingers. She brought them to your lips. "Taste it. Practice for his loads." You licked them clean, panting, body trembling from the intensity. She stood, adjusting her harness with a satisfied smirk. "Not bad for a start. Tomorrow, his real cock awaits at the office."

She helped you dress, her touch lingering on your smooth skin. "Remember, email every detail—how horny you get thinking of his ass, how wet your mouth feels waiting. Next weekend, we test if you're ready to be our full-time cock whore." Her eyes sparkled with promise. "Even twenty years from now, baby slut, you'll still be on call." She gave your ass one last slap. "Now go—dream of that blowjob."

The door closed behind you, but her final words echoed: the real training was only beginning.