Husband or Handler – [part one]
Warning: language and content may offend some. 18+ please
Imogen was long and lean with curves. She didn’t really know that she was beautiful, others had to tell her and she usually let their compliments pass as inconsequential. Why did she not see herself when she looked in the mirror? Once when she was at a bar, and this was awhile ago, a man fell over backwards in his chair when she walked past him. He told her later that he was blown over by her presence. She did not believe him and thought him drunk. Even though there was white in her hair now and small laugh lines around her eyes, these signs of aging only added another element and did not detract.
What was she going to do about her husband was the question plaguing her these past months. She hadn’t seen him in a very long time but he had kept in contact parodically by email and he also seemed to know her every move, who she was sleeping with mainly. He encouraged her to be a bad girl and to take good care of “her man” until they could be together again and that her ass, cunt and mouth belonged to him. There was no talk of love or being missed, just sexual body parts and what they could do. Was she just a thing, al be it, a lovely thing? Did he even love her? He never said. She on the other hand, was always forthcoming with words of love and passion for him. “I miss you; I love you; I want you; I crave you; I don’t know why I feel this way about you, but I do”.
Her panties were soaking wet when she read his words in that very recent email message. “You need a spanking for your insubordination? I am not happy about this. You are mine”.
All because she tried to say goodbye to him. Granted a feeble attempt, but an attempt none the less. There had been several of these gentle reasonings from her that this relationship wasn’t what she wanted anymore. She wanted someone to love her and not exactly take care of her, but be present in her life. Someone to talk to and have intelligent conversations with, laugh with, dance with, cry with, whatever. Something real. This connection with her husband was none of that. He was the boss, the master, the dominate one, and she did what she was told.
Imogen had been pining away in unrequited love for years now. It wasn’t always like this. In fact, the very first time she looked into his eyes and kissed his lips, she was transported to some heavenly place. Ecstasy. Never had she been so high and so wet. The attachment to him was instantaneous. She belonged to him. Anything he wanted, she wanted too, any kinky thing, it didn’t matter because if he suggested it would be fun and exciting, she was all for it. Yes, let’s have a threesome, a foursome, an orge, swap partners, you name it and it will be done.
The power he had over her mind was without question. She was sweet and innocent, naïve and trusting, a monogamist and loyal, a very good girl. He had turned her into a bad girl just with the tussling of her hair and a pat on the head. “You are such a good girl Imogen, my Imogen. Now I want you to be a bad girl too when it suits me”.
Imogen did not care for the person she had become. With these thoughts she flung herself on her lonely bed and sobbed.
To be continued…..