HOW WE SERVE MASTER

Hey.

I’m back.

And back to the narrative proper we go.

When I sent Hannah back to get all sexy for me, she should have said …

“Ma’am. Yes, Ma’am.”

What she said was …

“Ma’am. Yes, Ma’am.”

Sure, the words were right, but there was a slight pause.

A hesitation.

A beat.

It was short, but it was definitely defiant.

And I understood why. Her nipples were sore and were about to get worse. Well, boo hoo.

I should have corrected her right there with clamps and my cane.

Instead, I forgave her. She put on what I wanted and I chewed those nips.

OK, so I only mostly forgave her.

But then she really crossed the line.

The next morning after her shower, she was getting dressed. The first thing she always must put on is a bra.

After she slipped into it but before she could close the front clasp, I came playfully up behind her and reached my hands toward her chest.

She flinched away from me.

Flinched. Away.

From.

Me.

---

So here I am days later watching from the bedroom chair.

He’s pounding Cunt. Deep and hard.

“Whose pussy is this?”

Whimpering. Whimpering.

“Your pussy, sir.”

Of course, we all know that pussy belongs to me.

Not him.

Or the other three equally long and hard studs sitting naked along the edges of the bed.

Waiting their turns.

It’s by Dr. Hook. It’s kind of my life

When you’re in love with a beautiful woman 
It’s hard 
When you’re in love with a beautiful woman 
You know it’s hard (it’s hard, you know it gets so hard)

Everybody wants her, everybody loves her 
Everybody wants to take your baby home

When you’re in love with a beautiful woman 
You watch your friends 
(You watch your friends, you better watch your friends) 
When you’re in love with a beautiful woman 
It never ends (it never ends, you know it never ends)

You know that it’s crazy, you wanna trust her 
Then somebody hangs up when you answer the phone

When you’re in love with a beautiful woman 
You go it alone

Maybe it’s just an ego problem 
Problem is I’ve been fooled before 
By fair-weather friends and faint hearted lovers 
And every time it happens, it just convinces me more

Like I mentioned in an earlier post, Hannah has to wear a bra nearly all the time.

I consider extensive bra wearing as maintenance.

Usually she wears padded bras, natch.

But sometimes I like her to show some cleavage in public, so I bought her some some fake boobies to wear.

Makes me proud.

Like a majority of FFM, Hannah is an expert face painter.

I actually feel unworthy to sit at the makeup table once she’s worked her personal magic.

Those lips!

Those lashes!

I just want to eat her up.

But I can’t risk that. She hasn’t had a cum in years and years, which is for the best.

Instead, I’ll have her eat me up.

She’s going to her knees now.

She’s pulling off my panties.

Excuse me. I need to spread.

The two most important aspects of our marriage are (I’m not completely sure this order is correct):

1. Our affection for each other

2. The oral service Hannah provides me

She is very good at it. It’s one of the reasons I feminized her instead of just divorcing her.

Sometimes I want service down there three or four times a day.

On both sides, if you catch my drift.

And if you do catch it, you got to release it. It’s still under the weight limit.

Bitch.

Bitch.

Bitch.

I swear …

If there’s one part of being a woman that my former-husband-now-wife has fully embraced is the bitching.

If she misspeaks, she is corrected.

Harshly.

With a cane!

But still …

Bitch.

Bitch.

Bitch.

When she was my husband she was somewhat stoic.

But now …

Jesus Christ on a Golden Opulence cracker!

Bitchy St. McBitchface of Bitchburg, Arkansas.

And if I gotta hear …

One more time …

About high heels hurting her toes.

We were nearly late tonight for a fundraising dinner my nonprofit was hosting.

I caught Cunt inappropriately touching herself while putting on her panties.

So I blistered her clitty with my cane.

I had a fine time at the dinner. Looked marvelous in my red.

She had a terrible time. Looked miserable in her pain.

Bunbun and I had a very pleasant evening together yesterday.

We sat in candlelight having drinks and listening to a recording of Gian Francesco de Majo’s opera Ifigenia in Tauride.

I had a half a bottle of Spanish sherry and Bunbun had a couple glasses of her special martinis.

Those martinis are a way Bunbun shows her devotion to me.

In the morning I peed in a martini shaker, filling it about half way up. Bunbun put it in the fridge for later.

As evening settled in, I poured me a glass of sherry and Bunbun got the shaker out. She put in some vermouth and ice, shook it up and poured herself a glass. Then she added some olives and joined me on the sofa.

We nestled in for some light making out as we sipped our drinks and luxuriated in the Majo.

Love is a many splendored thing, quite a different piece of music once asserted.