Learning to comply by tiffanykim099
Discover the thrilling journey of desire and submission in 'Learning to Comply' by tiffanykim099. This erotic sex story explores taboo fantasies, emotional connections, and the art of seduction. Perfect for readers seeking an enticing tale of passion and compliance. Dive into the depths of pleasure today!<br/>
Belle’s new Master works out a deal with her husband , Belle – or ‘it’ as John called her now – squirmed uncomfortably in her seat and slid herself closer to the car door. Even that slight movement sent a rush of desire through her belly. She closed her eyes and slid her hand up the inside of her right thigh.
John turned his head and watched. A smile broke slowly across his face. The skirt – short and diaphanous – slid upward and he saw the naked skin between the top of her stocking and the top of her leg. It was her right leg and the tattoo of the Chinese characters for “available whore” showed clearly.
“You may masturbate for three minutes, we are almost there,” John said casually.
Belle perked up and smiled, joy flooding her face. “Thank you, Master!” she said, her hand darting to her crotch. She lifted the ring that hung from her clit hood and spread her legs wide. She rubbed fast and hard moaning and came immediately. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered whether she should be doing this while they were driving on a busy street in the middle of the day, but the thought was vague and unformed and went away quickly. Touching her cunt was all that mattered.
Her cunt. She smiled. She never called it her cunt before. Back when she was married. She frowned. She was still married. Wasn’t she? It was hard to think and besides, it didn’t matter. She came again.
John nodded toward her window and she turned her head. Two men in the next car were staring at her, eyes wide. She smiled and threw her head back, rubbing herself harder. She loved it when men watched.
The light changed and John turned the corner and onto the sidestreet. It was Maple. Belle used to live here. Roger still did.
Belle recognized the houses and stopped rubbing herself. She pushed her fingers in her mouth and licked them clean, enjoying the taste she’d hated just a few months ago. She squinted her eyes, trying to remember why she knew these houses, but couldn’t.
“Here we are,” John announced, pulling the car into the driveway.
Belle recognized it.
“I live here…” she said slowly, the memories rising inside her. “With Roger.” She was puzzled. Why was she with this John man and not Roger? He was her husband, after all. And he’d liked the new haircut…
She closed her eyes and thought, but it was hard and she got more and more frustrated.
John watched her carefully. He’d been giving her steady doses of Complyoform regularly for the last several weeks — since they started seeing each other regularly. For the last three weeks — since she’d moved out of her home — the doses were coming daily. The confusion was normal but he wanted to make sure she wasn’t suffering any negative side effects.
“Who lives here, dear?” he asked softly.
“Roger,” she said in a quiet voice.
“And who is Roger?” “Roger is my husband.” She turned and stared at John. “But I’m here with you. Why is that?”
“You gave yourself to me, don’t you remember?” John said calmly.
“Oh, yes,” Belle nodded, still feeling puzzled.
“Roger doens’t want you anymore.”
Belle stared, confused.
“Do you remember what he said the last time he saw you?”
Belle searched her memory and finally found it. A scrap of conversation. Her standing naked in the kitchen, showing Roger her tattoos and piercings, opening her legs and pulling back her left cunt lip to show him the small tattoo that read ‘slave’. Then, pulling off the wig to show him that John had shaved her head bald. Roger had turned to John dumbfounded and nearly fell over when John announced casually that he could pimp her out more easily if her hair color was adjustable. Roger had yelled and screamed and threatened and ultimately kicked her out of the house.
Since then, Belle had been living with a hooker John knew. Belle wasn’t turning tricks, she was in strict training — a daily regimen of exercise, pain, and porn. John would come by in the morning, inject Belle with the day’s dose of Complyoform, then strap her to her ‘education’ chair and run loops of BDSM porn for three hours. Then, a short lunch followed by two hours of workout. Her body was amazing, even the hooker she lived with commented on it.
“What did he say?” John asked Belle.
“He told me that he … ” Belle began, the froze. A tear came to her eye. “…never wanted to see me again.” The tear ran down her cheek but she wasn’t sure why. Maybe she sensed John was upset with her about something.
“John? Did I do something wrong?”
John patted her leg. “No, dear. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He opened the car door and got out and walked around to her side. He opened her door.
“Come on, we have some paperwork to do.”
He led her to the porch and rang the doorbell.
Roger answered a minute later. Belle saw the look on his face. Anger. She turned to John. “John, did I do something wrong?” John said, “it’s fine, dear. Just fine.” He turned to Roger. “May we come in.”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Roger growled.
“We can do our business here on the porch if you’d rather,” John said. He turned his head slightly toward Belle. “Take off your clothes, dear.”
Roger flinched and swung open the door. “Come in, you sick fuck.”
As soon as they were inside, John had Belle strip naked. He showed Roger her tattoos, his fingers running over Roger’s wife’s skin like he was showing Roger a lawnmower or a vending machine. “This one,” John said, pointing to a tattoo on her lower back in an Arabic script, “means ‘anus only’. There’s one more you have to see,” John said. He smacked Belle’s bottom and said, “show him the picture of the daisy.”
For the first time in a long time, Belle felt ashamed and begged, “Master, please…not that…”
“Now,” John said softly.
Belle bent over and reached around behind herself, pulling her ass cheeks open. Roger turned his head.
“Well, that kind of thing isn’t for everyone,” John said. He poked his finger into her anus, then traced the flower tattoo the surrounded it. “Evidently, it’s for her, though.” He pulled his hand back, wiped his finger on the hem of her skirt. “Isn’t it, Belle?”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Louder.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Why did you bring her here? That fucking skank?” Roger barked.
“I want to finish up the loose ends legally,” John said. He walked into the dining room and pulled out a chair. “Please,” he motioned to Roger. Belle straightened and smoothed her dress back in place.
“Did someone tell you to stand up?” John said with an icy voice. “You have earned discipline.”
Belle immediately turned and pulled her skirt back up over her hips, feeling the rush of heat between her legs. He was going to punish her! She felt her cunt well and her chest burst with pride. He was going to punish her!
“What do you want?” Roger growled.
John motioned to the chair again. “Come, come. We’re both grown men. We both know you don’t want to be married to this…this thing anymore.” Roger didn’t say anything but Belle felt the humiliation shoot through her.
John took an envelope out of his pocket.
“I’ve done my homework. You are worth over three million dollars, home, stocks and retirement plan taken into account. If she divorces you, it’s most likely a 50-50 split right down the middle.” Roger nodded, his face red with anger. “The fucking whore will get half of what I have.”