From Husband to Slave Part 2 -- Hugh gets in to character
The morning after Guy's proposal about his becoming a house slave, Hugh woke up early and could think about little else. Guy had gone to the gym early as usual, so Hugh had no opportunity to ask any questions. This did not stop his mind from going over and over Master/slave scenarios. By 10.30 he was so horned up at the thoughts of becoming a slave, he had to leave his desk to wank in the office bathroom. As he washed his hands afterwards, he stared at his reflection in the brightly lit mirror. 6', 30 something, dark brown hair, deep brown eyes, a few strands of his very hairy chest poking out of his unbuttoned white shirt. Was the confident, worldly entrepreneur he saw gazing back at him really ready to submit completely to a Master, even if that Master was the husband he dearly loved?
Back at his desk, he concentrated on work until lunchtime, when sensual thoughts together with mild hunger pangs made work impossible once again. The afternoon dragged and he decided to leave early, stopping by the supermarket to pick up ingredients for supper. "Just protein and veg" he heard his husband's voice in his head as he wandered through the supermarket aisles. Guy took his fitness very seriously and although 3 inches shorter than Hugh, made up for it with his muscular rugger build. Hugh suddenly got horny just at the thought of cooking dinner for his powerful husband and distractedly forgot to pick up the milk and butter that were at the top of his list.
Once back at home, Hugh started to unpack the groceries onto the marble topped kitchen island, but again fantasies about being Guy's slave led his thoughts away from the task in hand and a hardon began to press uncomfortably against his suit trousers. Abandoning the still packed second carrier bag, he headed for the bedroom and stripped naked. Running back to the kitchen, he found a chef's apron and put it on as his only item of clothing. The apron tented obscenely at the front and gave a great view of his pert, hairy arse at the back. Without over-thinking it, he already seemed to be slipping into slave mode, only thinking of pleasing Guy. Hugh guessed that it would delight his hard-working husband to come home to see a naked chef preparing one of his favourite meals. Ignoring his hardon as best he could, Hugh set about the prep.
An hour later he was engrossed in checking the recipe and didn't hear Guy let himself in and pad into the kitchen. A sharp slap on his bare arse was the first he knew of his husband's arrival. Before Hugh had a chance to turn away from the kitchen island, Guy was pressed up against his bare rump, an unmistakeable erection straining against the fine wool of his Hugo Boss suit. "I see someone has been thinking about my proposal, Mr Naked Chef" he growled into Hugh's ear, in between kissing his neck and groping his butt. Hugh's cock stiffened in response, pressing uncomfortably against the cold marble worktop. Before he could protest, Guy stepped back and Hugh could hear him unzipping his fly. Hugh tried to turn around, but a firm hand on his shoulder kept him pinned to the island. He then saw Hugh's other hand reach for the open bottle of olive oil on the counter. He heard the rustle and clunk of Guy's trousers and belt hitting the stone floor and then felt first one, then 2 oiled fingers slide into him. The hand on his shoulder pushed his torso down onto the marble worktop and he felt a leather brogue push his feet apart. The 2 oiled fingers were withdrawn and rapidly replaced with Guy's thick, hard, uncut cock. Hugh yelped. He hadn't been fucked for ages and, despite the brief fingering, he was tight and it hurt. Without missing a beat, Guy took a tea towel and shoved a corner of it into Hugh's mouth. "Shut up, boy and take it" commanded Guy and picked up the pace of the fucking. The sight of his toned husband, naked except for a chef's apron, gagged with a tea towel and bent over the kitchen island meant that despite his best efforts, he shot a big load deep into Hugh's arse within a few minutes. He was still hard after he came and was in no hurry to pull out. A panting Hugh did not protest. Softening eventually, Guy pulled his cock gently out of Hugh's arse, but placed his hand firmly on his husband's back as a signal for him to stay in position. He reached down to the rumpled trousers and pulled a butt plug from his pocket. He pushed it firmly into Hugh's hole, eliciting another yelp. "A good slave should keep his Master's seed inside him for as long as possible," Guy explained in a matter-of-fact tone. Hugh's legs were still a bit shaky from the speed and intensity of his fucking, but he did at least recover the power of speech. "How comes you had a butt plug in your suit trousers?" he asked curiously. "You're not the only one who has been thinking about my proposal today" replied Guy with a smirk, then continued over his shoulder as he left the kitchen "I'm going to have a shower. Bring me a glass of wine before you carry on cooking"
Staring lustfully at his departing husband's muscly backside, only partly covered by the tail of his white work shirt, Hugh wondered if he should be annoyed at the lack of `please' with the wine order. Then it struck him that Masters don't have to say please or thank you to their slaves. With that he went to the fridge and obediently poured a glass of New Zealand sauvignon blanc and trotted to the bedroom with it. By the time he got there Guy was fully naked, flaccid cock slick with olive oil and his suit and shirt strewn on the floor. He took the glass and said "You'll need to take those trousers to the dry cleaners tomorrow, you got olive oil on them." "I got olive oil on them?" replied Hugh, an indignant emphasis on the I. Guy smiled patiently and explained slowly, as if to a not very bright child, "If we did go ahead with the Master/slave relationship and I said something was your fault, it would be your fault and your impertinent questioning of my statement would have earned you a hard thrashing with my belt"
With that, Guy strode into the shower, leaving a somewhat shell shocked Hugh standing, mouth agape and a large wet patch of precum oozing through the fabric of the chef's apron. After a few moments, Hugh gathered himself together sufficiently to head back to the kitchen to finish dinner. The dual distractions of his still leaking cock and the sensation of the butt plug holding Guy's spunk inside him did not make this an easy task, but he managed to do the finishing touches and lay the table complete with candles and linen napkins. Once called, Guy ambled in wearing the cashmere sweatpants and hoodie that Hugh found particularly sexy. His cock, that he had finally managed to make go down with intense concentration on steaming green vegetables, immediately sprang back to full erection, tenting the apron once again as he carried over the plates to the dining table. Guy rewarded him with an enigmatic grin. They ate in silence; Guy still quietly content after a very satisfying fuck and Hugh once again trying to concentrate on broccoli in a vain attempt to get his stiffy under control. Plates cleared, Hugh came back to the table and asked Guy if he was allowed to take the butt plug out now. Guy paused then began with a drawn out "Weeeellll." Hugh fidgeted, but waited for the verdict. "You were very cheeky earlier in the bedroom. I think some sort of punishment is called for before you're allowed to relax. "Yes Sir" Hugh replied quietly. "Yes Sir, what?" demanded Guy. After a moment's hesitation Hugh added in a louder voice "Yes Sir, some sort of punishment is called for, for my cheekiness in the bedroom." Guy's grin returned. "Good, I'm glad we agree. Go and fetch my belt....RUN" Hugh ran, snatched up the belt and ran back to Hugh and handed it over. Guy cocked his head towards the dining table and Hugh bent over it with lightening speed. Guy wasted no time in delivering 6 hard strokes of the pliable black belt. All 6 were harder than any Guy had delivered during their role play in the early days of their relationship, but Hugh took them in silence and even remembered Guy's old rule that as soon as a thrashing was finished he had to get down and kiss his Master's feet to thank him for the punishment. To be honest, this was no hardship for Hugh as he loved Guy's broad, masculine feet and as soon as he started kissing, his hardon - lost after the second hard stroke of the belt -- returned with a vengeance. "Please may I cum, Sir?" he begged, pleading eyes raised up from Guy's toes to his smiling face. "Yes, but on my feet, then you have to lick your slave-cum off. E-v-e-r-y d-r-o-p". Hugh didn't need telling twice and furiously pulled at his pre-cum soaked 8" uncut dick. The pent-up lust, the stinging welts on his backside and the still wedged in butt plug made for a rapid, but intense orgasm and although Hugh desperately tried to push down his rock hard dick to point at Guy's foot, the first few jets of thick, white spunk overshot and landed on the parquet behind Guy's ankle. All Hugh wanted to do was roll onto his back to recover, but a steely look from above reminded him of his promise. He licked his own cooling spunk from the bridge of his husband's foot, then moved reluctantly on to the remainder on the wood floor. To complete his subjugation, Guy gently rested his newly cleaned foot on the back of Hugh's head as he licked up the last few drops from the floor. Hugh, far from resentful at this further humiliation, felt more content than he had ever been.