Diary of M | A Housewife Bondage Blog – Oral Courage (Entry 4)

Diary, I mustered my courage and went to Hawke’s office the following day.

I was nervous, but I knew he would give me what I needed. When I arrived, a guard asked me what I wanted. I gave him a lame excuse, and the older man ushered me inside.

When I walked into the lobby, Hawke sat there scrolling his phone. His eyes darted up to meet mine lazily. He didn’t speak, just stared. A few uncomfortable seconds ticked by. A tingle manifested between my legs. More seconds passed as I considered how stupid I appeared.

Then he smiled as if reading my thoughts; his leer made me feel dirty.

Diary, in that moment, these judgments ran through my head, “I feel like a whore, like a slut. He must think me one. Why does that make me feel wonderful?”

His gaze became hungry, but it was an unremarkable expression, the kind one might have when considering a meal.

“Good, you’re here. Come with me.”

He led me into his office. Expensive Cubist paintings hung on the walls. A large oaken desk filled the room’s center. And a huge leather sofa beckoned like I was his casting call.

“Sit.”

He pointed to the scandalous ebony couch.

I sat down.

He sat next to me.

Hawke paused momentarily but said, “I have a proposal for you, M.”

“Yes, anything. What do you want?”

“To make you my property. I want you as mine. I want you indecent.”

“What do you mean?” My heart raced.

“I own many things—fancy cars, large houses, stocks—but I’m looking for something more … malleable.”

“Malleable?”

“Yes. Something I can adjust. Mold. Command. Bend to my will.”

I stole a breath.

“I see. And you want that of me?”

“Something like that,” he answered.

“And what would I have to do? What would you do to me, Mr. Hawke?”

“I would bind you, fuck you every way possible, and deplete you like I did in the warehouse. But that’s only the start if you surrender.”

“Anything you … desire, I’ll do it. I’ll be your toy, your … puppet.”

“Excellent. Let’s go then.”

Before I could reply, he stood up and motioned to the elevator. He walked toward it and I followed; my head bowed. We entered. The doors closed. My thoughts drifted to my husband as the elevator rose, leaving behind my former life.

He placed his hand on my ass as if reading my thoughts again. It was wrong, but I liked it. The doors swung open, revealing a tiny room with a double bed, chairs, and a desk inviting us inside.

He led, and I followed. The doors closed behind me—cutting me off from my family. Hawke sat me down.

“I sleep here sometimes when I’m busy. This is where we’ll do our work,” he said without emotion.

“Work?” I answered like a teen meeting a supervisor for the first time.

“Yes. Your ass will labor for me. Your pussy will slave for me. Your mouth will work for me. I’m going to tie you up, strike you when I feel like it, and then fuck you. I’m going to ravish your tits and make them mine. Our sessions will start now.”

“Oh.”

“Do you understand, M? Do you see what I’m offering?”

“Yes. But it’s only you?” Disappointment tinged my words.

“No. Others will come. Others will use you down the line.”

My vagina dripped with this revelation.

“How many others?” I whispered as I scanned the room. The space looked normal. Not a sex dungeon. But my eyes fixed on a large wooden cabinet on the room’s opposite side.

He stated flatly, “Many.”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

He stood up and went to the cabinet. The imposing man returned with a length of black cord. Anticipatory sweat dotted my forehead. Fear gripped me. Many bystanders were in the warehouse as witnesses. Now I was frightfully alone, but I wanted this. I needed this.

“Strip,” he ordered.

I did as he commanded.

He appraised my curvaceous body with a more discerning eye than in the warehouse.

“You have a wonderful figure for your age,” he muttered as he walked around me. Then I realized I was his senior.

Like a nervous idiot, I blurted out, “I work out.”

“Shh…”

He motioned for me to sit. I did so. With purpose, he tied me to the chair, my hands behind my back, and my legs spread wide.

“How does that feel, M?”

“It feels good but tight.”

“It’s going to get worse.”

Hawke grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. His lips met mine in a brutal, forceful kiss. His firm grip on my hair aroused me, and my pussy drooled. With an abruptness that startled me, the kiss ended. He moved away from me and stripped off his clothes. Hawke’s muscular body was majestic. His muscles gleamed strong and lean. His trimmed beard and chiseled face exuded command. The man was perfect and impressive.

He gazed at me. “Like what you see, M?”

“Yes. You’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you. You’re not the only one who works out.”

Without warning, his hand seized my neck. He took control, dominated me, by plunging his hard cock into my open mouth. He fucked my face repeatedly with his throbbing weapon, jamming it inside. The vigorous man used my mouth like he said he would. Like a little whore. A slut. I was so humiliated as I gagged on his flesh. I had no choice but to accept what was happening.

It was degrading, dirty.

I loved every moment in housewife bondage.

“That’s a good girl,” he said. “You like that?”

I could do nothing but moan a non-answer, feeling him deep inside my mouth. The taste of his manliness was driving me crazy. My vagina was so wet and he hadn’t even touched me down there.

“I love fucking your loose mouth,” he told me. “You’re a natural. You’re a born cocksucker, aren’t you?”

Hawke pushed himself further into my throat, deeper, harder. My jaw ached as I opened as wide as I could for him. He was abusing my mouth. Taking my sultry lips, claiming them for himself. His powerful thrusts taxed my throat. Hawke was mighty, in control. He was the master, and I was his plaything.

“I can’t hold it anymore,” he said. “Oh, fuck. Oh, I’m going to cum.”

He pushed himself deep, deeper. His whole body tensed, his back arched, his legs stiffened, and his molten semen blasted into my warm mouth.

“Oh, fuck!” he shouted, his hands squeezing my head, his cock convulsing.

His seed’s volume surprised me. It shot into the back of my throat, over and over, wave after wave. I gagged on each spurt. But then I swallowed. It tasted wrong, bitter but sweet, salty.

Somehow, he maintained his erection. Then he fucked my dripping mouth in every way imaginable. His cock sliding in and out as his semen mingled with my saliva. He fucked my mouth continuously until I couldn’t take anymore. I came several times, and my intense orgasms made me shudder. I loved it.

Diary, these were my thoughts at the time: “I’m a slut, a whore. I’m his toy. He owns me. I’d take his semen anywhere.”

He throttled my face harder, faster. Spittle and semen flew in all directions. Sloshing sounds filled the room, making me feel both pathetic and wonderfully alive. I wanted more. I was so desperate for him to use every part of me.

Between thrusts he whispered, “Imagine … your fantasies, M.”

He yanked his prick from my orifice and yelled at me, “Tell me!”

I tried to catch my breath. My sloppy lips tried to form words. He yanked my hair back again. I murmured as ejaculate streamed into my hair, “I want you to spit on me. I want you to treat me like a whore, an object, a slut. I want you to use me for your pleasure. Share me. Fuck me. Use me. Fuck me from both ends.”

He stared at me. Semen and spittle ran down my chest.

“I’ll spit on you, but not today. We’ll save that. You’re a filthy little harlot, aren’t you, M?”

“Yes. I’m your nasty thing.”

“You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to use your hole, don’t you, M?”

“Yes. Please. Fuck me. Fuck my hole. Oh, fuck me.”

“Which one? Does it matter?”

“No. Please. I want them all.”

“Which is the biggest, the loosest, the one for making babies, or the other one?”

“Oh, God. Fuck. Oh, yes. Yes. Right there. Right there. Oh, God. Oh, fuck. I’m coming. I’m coming.”

“I’m going to take your biggest hole again, your mouth, and fill it more.”

“Yes. Come in me. Fill me. Oh, fuck. Yes. Oh, fuck. Yes. I’m coming so much…”

He jammed his erect penis back into my slobbering mouth.

He fucked my face for several seconds, jack-hammering my face with abandon, and then his second load of white-hot semen hit the back of my throat in harsh blasts.

I drank his load as his seed filled my mouth.

Suddenly, my lover withdrew, and another drop of his man essence trickled down my chin.

“Now, tell me what you want. Have you been a good fuck today, M?”

I nodded as I tried to catch my breath.

“And now you’ll do anything for me. Won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Now you’re going to leave and think about what I’m going to do to your asshole next time. I’ll save your vagina for last. And then I’ll offer you up to some of my clients.”

Diary, I nodded to him. My slick chest heaved with his forgotten loads. My heart ached for more as he untied me.

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