My Wife. His Whore.

My Wife. His Whore.  Part VI.

The dreary rains of November in Seattle were the back-drop for the twisted pleasure and angst that Lon experienced, as if all real life were in suspension.  In the next two weeks Lon’s only contact with Leena was via the video feeds in Alton Drave’s house and her occasional posts expressing her pleasure and satisfaction as Alton Drave’s “house whore.”  Lon watched with fascination and dread  at the apparent diminution of Trina’s role in Alton Drave’s household and the consequent focus upon Leena.  Even after all of this Lon wanted to preserve the notion that somehow Leena was only going through a phase, but this close bonding between Leena and Alton Drave made him see that there was a very strong likelihood that Leena would never return to him. Mixed in, powerfully, was the voyeueristic pleasure he took in seeing the wife he loved, the mother of his children being used, raped and hurt for all to see.  The sexual tension finally made him ill and he stayed away from work six days, only to spend his time, in his weakened condition, excavating into Leena’s old notes to Alton Drave and obsessively watching “his” Leena serving, daily in the most debased and perverse ways in the house of her Master, Alton Drave.

The Drave Household

Usually, at home Lon did the cooking and most frequently made breakfast for the family.  It had been Leena’s philosophy that domestic work was a patriarchal trap for women and thus she maintained, out of defiance, a slovenly attitude toward housework and distained cooking.  She left these things for Lon to manage—and later, Lon was joined by their son, Steven, but never her daughter, Amy.  The Drave household showed a shockingly different set of rules.  After the videos of Leena’s morning preparations, meticulous and difficult, coming to her Master, obeisantly, to give him a face-fuck as good as any paid whore’s (or other sexual service, as Master Drave’s whim provided), new videos showed Leena’s household routines, as scripted by her Master. Now Alton Drave was an artist and in all of his videos and pictures, posted regularly and dutifully by his “whores,”  there was the most careful artistry.  Clearly Master Drave was lead by an obsessive need to control, both in his art and in his personal life.  The result was a “pornography” of extraordinary quality.  Lon was in no small part obsessed with looking at Mr.Drave’s products, precisely because of Mr. Drave’s frightening command in the details of his everyday life--- which was reflected in the art visible for all shown on his website.  It came under a carefully selected rubric adopted for these new weeks with Leena: The Art of Woman Training.”

In the video, once she had swallowed her Master’s morning spunk, Leena was bade to redo her lipstick.  The camera followed her back to the bathroom-dressing room where she had prepared herself.  There she redid her lipstick and with her face showing clearly the flush of her sexual arousal in the service she did for her Master, Leena, looking in the camera began an obscene show of stripping to her corset and lingerie and masturbating herself to a shattering orgasm with a large black, vibrating  dildo.  She recited with bated breath a statement, required of her, clearly, for the titillation of her viewers, but nevertheless stunningly sincere:  “This bootlick whore was made to swallow the prick scum of a real Man.  This servant slut loves His whip and hurt and loves to eat his dirt; this  bitch kept in her place, fucked in her face, loves you Master and your cruel grace!”  Certainly, this statement stiffened the prick of many an aspiring “Master” clicking into this website.  To Lon it sent another lightening bolt to his prick and body.  He desperately wanted to be a part somehow in Leena’s new world.

Reeling but unable to pull himself away, Lon clicked to proceed in watching Leena.  Once she had recovered from her strong orgasm sitting in a chair, Leena put on slowly and erotically, to please the male viewers, a traditional French maid’s outfit, with its white, frilly apron sewed upon the very short, black satin lower portion of her dress. she seemed to float in an ether of docile servility.  It was if Master Alton Drave had stripped away the rough carapace of her former self to reveal the soft inside which, any male viewer could see, carried the passionate glow of true femininity. Dutifully, she attached to her ankles the cuffs and chain that made her purpose and position clear. Lastly, she attached similar cuffs and chain to her wrists, marks of her true slavery.  When she got up to head to the kitchen,  Leena’s movements were gentle, languid and graceful, despite the inhibition that her ankle chain and high heels created for her.  She went about her duties with a quiet focus that made clear that every move she made was intended for only one purpose: the please her harsh Master.  There wasn’t a man in the western world who wouldn’t have been delighted to see such a nicely corseted, well made-up maid-bitch, mouth firmly gagged with a red ball-gag, striding femininely in her high heels and chains to go to the kitchen to make breakfast for her Master.

Leena did her cooking duties slowly and carefully, following now an internal script about how an ideal house-cunt should conduct herself.  But, of course, it took a forceful Master who could wisely read the script she’d hidden with lies for so long to bring her to this place of satisfaction and pleasure.  And this is what ripped at Lon’s insides so sharply;  Leena was doing all this out of pure love, a love Lon knew he could never have.

The surreal pornographic drama had its tension heighten considerably when the handsome Alton Drave, dressed in black, with a black shirt, and black polished leather vest, pants and boots, entered the scene with Trina on a leash and on all fours behind him, gagged, with her enormous tits swinging as she moved along.  The end of a huge black dildo protruded from her cunt, and the glisten of her sexual fluids dripping in her shaved slit was clearly highlighted in the carefully placed cameras which unobtrusively recorded the obscene displays in carefully timed camera work directed, it appeared, by subtle movements that the Master made with meticulous choreography.  Master Drave sat before his poached eggs, toast, fruit, coffee and orange juice, placing Trina to his left side, kneeling on all fours, as Leena knelt upright at his right on a soft, black satin mat. 

The camera focused now on Master  Drave with periodic panning which took into view his two house slaves.  It was for Lon an outrageous and disturbing display,  but it provided a forum for Alton Drave’s radical and provocative views, vouchsafed, it seemed, by the fact that this was not idle theory.   He had put them in practice.

As Alton began eating breakfast while the two women held their poses painfully steady under his sway.  This was his household and castle and he, between bites, casually, but pointedly commented in his sharp, apparently misogynistic, rhetoric as if one were tuned into a very unusual television commentator making a personal statement on the far side of sexual politics:

“These two cunts are mine, though they are nominally married to other men.  The bitch to my left is Trina with her fucking MBA and business bitch attitude.  She was a smart-mouth independent cunt and she tried to shove that bullshit in my face at a fancy party.

But I knew she was cruising for a bruising.  And she was sucking my prick, kissing ass and licking my shiny black boots within a week after I met her, so don’t give me this bullshit about how all women want is to be independent and free!  Hello to her husband now who, I know, likes the breast implants I pleased myself with on her, maybe more than I do.  Don’t worry you’ll have her for a weekend this month!  My slave-maid to the right, Leena, was a well-known feminist theoretician.  Ph.D.! She wrote several lying-through-the-teeth feminist classics.  I caught this little cunt-fish on-line.  Now she’s in my kreel and thrall.  She was so opposed to ‘men’s rule’ it took two fucking e-mails before she came to me dressed like no old-time feminist would ever dress, kissed my Master’s hand and told me breathlessly:  ‘I’m sick of having rights!’    This cunt is under my thumb, now, where she belongs.  But let me take the gag off the whore and let her speak.

I’ll say here that she is completely free to say anything she wants, but it so happens all she cares to do is please me.”

Master Alton Drave removed the large ball gag from Leena’s mouth and placed it on the table.  Leena, reaching into a small pocket in her dress, freshened up her lipstick quickly

before speaking.  She maintained a docile, subservient demeanor, and a girlish lisping tone as she spoke, clearly from the heart:  “I exist for my Master’s pleasure and whim and nothing else.  I am servant to his prick and will because he was proud enough to demand it.  I was an aimless feminist bitch for many years, as Sir says, a lying cunt who greeted the Master’s first prick-hard, deeply sexist e-mail as grace given by a real man.  It was his strength that made me cough up my cunt truth: I was sick of having rights.  My Master prefers women in servitude and I do believe that servitude to a strict, wise Master is the best for a woman.  For his purposes I am a pleasing whore who is paid with pain from the Sir.  My husband, as Sir says, is an afterthought, as Sir has deigned.  I express here my pledge of servitude to my Master’s hard, shiny black boots. I love him irrevocably because he is man enough to hurt me and humiliate me and grind my bitch ego into nothing under his proud boot.  Under his boot I learn my truth.”

Master Drave listened with obvious self-satisfaction.  When Leena had finished he casually cinched on the ball gag once again.  He spoke again to the camera forward:

“I am greatly pleased by Leena’s statement.  I have taught her well.  As she is my new piece of fuckmeat I give her favor here.  I do like Trina’s tits and hurt them as often as I can; I cannot say she is not a good set of holes for my pleasure and whim and I cannot say that I do not take pleasure in giving her man-pain, but for now she will keep her cunt mouth shut. Frankly I’m giving attention now to the fresh cunt; the other set of holes is going to suck hind tit for now.  Viewers will see, of course, Trina’s treatment and abuse

in course.  But I did want to leave a message for Leena’s erstwhile husband that Leena,the forthright feminist, has a new job as a pole-dancer at “Pussy Galore” in the countryside outside Seattle.  He can come and see her on the 30th of November.  For others she’ll be dancing there the rest of November, all of December and January.”