Submissive | Bi-sexual | My Sex Life Diary
She Groomed & Trained Me To Be a Submissive Sex Toy For Her Husband
A sex shop, a jewelry store, and a working session to get me “decorated” & ready to serve my sex master and pleasure her husband’s cock [Sex Confession]
I write erotica novels & short stories. I also publish sex confessions as a spermivore, spermaholic, and teen slut. Yes, teen slut! And I’m proud of it! Sex is good. And girls who love sex shouldn’t have to hide and pretend to be “pure.” Sex is pure! And naked skin is natural.
If I want to get you guys caught up with the sex life I share with a South Florida couple I met last year, I better get on (pun intended) with it! By the way, my hair is blonde, not black — just in case!
First, let’s recap for those who haven’t read my prior sex life reports or, more precisely, my first two encounters with Madison and Darnell — fake names, of course!
I met Madison at a nightclub in South Beach. Then, at her house, we had a threesome with her husband, during which he used my body to experience some of the sexual fantasies his wife wouldn’t let him do with her, like thrusting his big African-American cock up my ass and down my throat.
I hooked up with her later on, just the two of us, and she was really good to me — explosively good! During that day, she came up with the idea of offering me to her husband as a wedding anniversary gift. She was so excited at the idea; it was lovely to see! I accepted. Yes, I know! I can be a bit crazy sometimes! But I will not be young with perky breasts forever! And I need inspiration for my erotica novels & short stories. And I love that woman!
On a Saturday morning, two weeks before the wedding anniversary date, she suggested we go shopping for accessories she could use to “decorate” me. Those were her words. And we ended up in a sex shop!
The first thing she picked up was a butt plug, which was appropriate considering how much her husband was into anal sex. Next, she asked me which size I wanted while pointing at one of the biggest ones. I simply nodded. Have you ever been to a large sex shop? It’s intimidating!
Next, it was a collar and leash kit. She selected the one that came with handcuffs that could be connected by a strap to the collar, with the hands either in the front or the back. I was learning. It was my first ever visit to a sex shop. It didn’t seem like it was her first.
With everything she was taking, I wondered and asked what Darnell would do with me.
“I have no idea!” she said, giggling and reminding me that I would have a safe word and that her husband would respect that. She asked me what it would be. I selected “Lotus” for the fancy little car she was driving. I’m not sure why I picked that word because I am not into cars, but that came to mind when she asked me to select a safe word.
As we were discussing the safe word, she casually selected a ball gag before heading to the strap-on display. I didn’t think we needed that. Her husband’s cock was pretty damn big. But she said she could train me with it! She asked me which strap-on was about the size of her husband’s penis. She was enjoying seeing me involved in what she was purchasing and discussing her husband’s cock. I pointed to the one that resembled Darnell’s penis from what I remembered, just for her to pick a bigger one!
She paid, and we left. On our way to her fancy beach home, we stopped at a jewelry store. It was an in-and-out stop for her, so I waited in the Lotus, wondering whether I would ever need to use my safe word.
The previous two times I came to her house, we both stripped on arrival and passionately went down on each other. But not this time. She asked me to undress at the door, then signaled me to follow her to the pool.
She opened the jewelry bag and handed me a box wrapped as a gift. That surprised me since I was supposed to be the gift. I unwrapped my present to find a gold ankle bracelet with a tag on which I could read “Darnell’s.” I was up to playing the game of being her husband’s submissive slut for their wedding anniversary, but seeing an anklet with “Darnell’s” written on it brought it up a notch.
She must have noticed my hesitation because she seemed sad. She said something like: “Your choice, babe!”
I stared at her. I wanted that woman so badly!
As a teenager, I soon discovered that I enjoyed being a submissive but with a twist. I usually participated in one way or another in planning the actions men would take with my body. I had never given carte blanche to a powerful man who could grab me and flip me around like a feather pillow. But remembering how Darnell did that with me… It felt good! What can I say?
I put the anklet on my right foot, and when I looked up, she had a grin from one ear to the other. She immediately opened the sex shop bag, gave me the toys (she called them “decorations”), and asked me to go wash them. I hadn’t thought of that. I figured it was not her first rodeo.
When I came back to the pool, she was in her bikini with a glass of white wine. I didn’t see a second glass for me. Perhaps she wanted me to be a sex slave, as much for her as for her husband.
First, she ordered me to bend, and she pushed the stainless steel butt plug up my ass. It was shaped like an egg attached to a small rod, ending with a cap that stayed outside my body. I had played with butt plugs with my best friend since kindergarten, but they were not fancy like this one. These things are more uncomfortable than painful, to me anyway.
She then proceeded to lock my wrists behind my back and attach them to the collar with a strap. Finally, she put the ball gag in my mouth. That is what she meant by “decorating” me.
I stood there, naked, in front of her.
She walked me around the pool, tugging on my leash. Then, she tried to kiss me over the ball gag, but that didn’t work very well. Have you ever tried? I don’t think ball gags are designed for romantic kisses!
She kept looking at me from different angles and said she hoped her husband would appreciate the effort. Then, she took her iPhone out to take a picture. I tried saying the safe word, but… How do you use a safe word with a ball gag?
She realized I was trying to say something and removed the ball gag. I explained to her that pictures were off-limits because many of my clients were conservative men in conservative companies. I handle social media marketing and online content for a few businesses. It is part of the reasons I got into writing erotica novels for Amazon and short stories for Medium. I needed something a bit “out there” to do between sessions of writing absolutely boring stuff!
I cannot afford to have anybody know how wildly I play with her and Darnell. In fact, I cannot even have people become aware I write erotica and even less that I report on my private sex life! That iPhone in front of my face while I was naked and “decorated” as a sub almost gave me a heart attack.
She understood.
She untied me and kissed me again. It worked better that time! She towed me to her bedroom, where we went down on each other for… The rest of the day, really. We stopped for a quick snack by the pool, both of us in the nude, before going back to the bedroom.
At one point in the afternoon, she left and came back wearing the gigantic strap-on we had purchased earlier in the day.
“Your ass is mine,” she said, trying to imitate the deep voice of her husband. For some reason, that cracked me up. Of course, her imitation was way off, and she was so small compared to the massive mountain of muscles that was Darnell.
She jumped on the bed and tried to flip my naked body around. Madison was serious about trying the strap-on. She insisted it was supposed to be a training session.
I brought my ass up, crashing my face onto the mattress. She already had put lubricant on the rod in ample quantity. Yet, it took her longer to get it all in than it had taken her husband with a real penis. I could sense that she did not want to hurt me, although, at the same time, it was turning her on.
She did a few in and out while slapping my ass cheeks and laughing. I had a hard time keeping my ass up because of the laughter. If you had told me, a year before, that one day, another woman banging my ass with a dildo would make me laugh, I would have suggested a trip to a mental institution for you.
When I moved to South Florida, my life changed. I had always been a teen slut, but somehow, I was bringing it up a notch. Maybe it’s due to the hot weather or because I am out of my hometown. I don’t know.
Eventually, she rushed us out of there to drive me home. Her husband was returning, and she didn’t want him to know we were in touch.
She asked me if I were to wear the slave anklet until we met again. I said, “Sure.” It was a lovely ankle bracelet, and I wasn’t planning on doing much of anything over the following two weeks.
I live in Florida, where the strategy against the coronavirus has been to pretend it didn’t exist. It was business as usual around here. Yet, I didn’t go out of my way to try to catch COVID–19! I didn’t have much physical contact besides fooling around with Madison and Darnell. And I worked from home.
Therefore, it was highly probable that nobody would see a “Darnell’s” tag on my ankle over the following two weeks. They would have to be kissing my feet to read it, anyway. But wait! I always wanted to see a man on his knees kissing my feet. That’s a different story, I guess!
In the following two weeks, Madison and I used FaceTime every once in a while, and each time, she asked to see my ankle and the “Darnell’s” tag. Madison was a tough woman to read.
We are both into each other. But she loves her husband. And she is thrilled with me doing dirty sex stuff with him.
There are all kinds of people on this planet! And I love her. She is… Something else!
Next, their anniversary day!
Also, for your benefit (and pervert pleasure, I guess), I created a list to keep track of my sexual awakening with that couple:
Thanks so much for supporting me as a writer and for your interest in my sex life. I often think of you when other men and women are using me. You are my motivation to try new things and push my limits!
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