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I remember the very old days, when I would reject him when he wanted sex. I remember the in between days when I would play heavily but be able to stop the sex when it became too painful. And now I have almost no say in our sex life, in what happens to my cunt. There are evenings when we don’t follow the rules – I have to be honest. It can be a bit much, night after night. A bit boring, even – for me and for him. But even on those nights when we joke about being too lazy to be bothered with cuffs, or too cold for just a robe, even then, I am still his wife who he married, he signed a contract with, and now that contract means ownership. As my fiance, it was just a promise. As my boyfriend, we were just in love. Now, he controls me, and can punish me, order me around, force me to do whatever he wants. So even on those nights, even then, he often still will exert that power, and it is difficult, yes, for me (more on this later) and I do get angry and resentful.
But I obey because that is the rule – I don’t get to decide when he has the control. It is his, as I am his. That contract has become so meaningful, and to stop now would feel like abandonment, cheating. I am good, and I obey even as I resent it. His ownership may not always feel good to me, when he disrupts my busy evening to stretch my asshole with the largest butt plug, for example. He did that with lube, but not much warning. No gentle lead up.

Anyway I will write that scene up later.
Where was I? How did he turn me into his sex slave? Have I even answered that question? I think the answer is – the need to be subjected, dominated, controlled and abused has always been within me. Committing to him for life meant he could transform our Dom/sub kinky sex life into an acknowledgement of what I truly am. His cunt.