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From: "Arthur" <arthurgthomas@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "The Multi-Million Dollar Marriage Part 9 (M/F, Bond, Humil)
Date: Mon, 14 Jan 2002 00:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "MMariage9.txt" begin>

Warning!  This is a sexual story that contains themes, acts and words 
that may be offensive to some people.  This story is copyrighted by me, 
Arthur Thomas.  Do not repost, steal or put on your website without my 
permission.  Contact me at ArthurGThomas@hotmail.com

My stories can be found at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ArthurThomas/www/

The Multi-Million Dollar Marriage
Part 9
By Arthur G Thomas	

I listened to my maids complain about my wife.  I usually have a 
simple policy with my employees, if they don't like it, they can quit.  
Sadly, my wife has changed the rules.  Some of my servants believe that 
I will be happy to hear their complaints as an excuse to punish my wife 
in some devious manner.  This is why they are servants and not wealthy 
persons in their own right.  They didn't understand that I don't need 
an excuse to torment my wife.

"Then Mrs. Thomas deliberately knocked over her water bowl," 
Natalie explained.  "She just smiled at me while I cleaned it up."

"I see," I said noncommittally.  "And you Denise?"

"Mrs. Thomas tracked mud into the living room again.  She 
deliberately walks through the garden when the sprinklers are on and 
then makes tracks through the house!"

"I see," I said again.  "What is your grievance Linda?"

Linda was usually such a smart girl; I was surprised to see her 
here.  She was a cute blonde who never became involved with the maid's 
gossip or minor politics.  I was going to regret firing her.  For my 
own curiosity, I wondered what petty problem finally made her snap and 
come to me for revenge.

"I just thought you should know that your wife left this book out 
by the sprinklers," Linda said.

It was my autographed copy of "The Club Dumas".  I looked at the 
wilted cover and growled.  I had planned to make my maids do something 
humiliating in order to keep their jobs but those frivolous games fled 
my mind.  This was unacceptable.

"Thank you maids, you may go," I said.  As they started to leave 
I corrected my order.  "Denise and Natalie, you are fired.  Please 
leave immediately."

At least they were trained enough to not complain.
  
	I activated Tara's pager and regained my temper through 
meditation.  Sometimes the idea of owning a woman didn't seem like such 
a great idea.  Her family had come to me with a tempting offer; invest 
in their company and get a beautiful redhead to marry and own.  At 
first I enjoyed the oddity of having a woman subject to my every whim 
but now the reality was starting to hit me.  

	Owning Tara was becoming as tiring as owning a dog.  She 
constantly needed supervision and when she didn't get attention she 
tended towards little act of destruction.  She was getting so bored; 
she would rather be punished than wait around for me to fuck her.  I 
actually considered removing her chastity belt.  Maybe if she could 
masturbate or fuck the staff, she would behave better.  

	Tara walked in, her chastity belt's bell still ringing.  There 
was a smug look on her face that faded when she walked in, apparently 
thinking I didn't catch her smirk.  Annoying me had become a hobby of 
hers. I had forbidden her the use of the television and the phone 
because I worried about her becoming a fat ass as well as rotting her 
mind but now I see that like any pet, she needed toys to play with.  I 
had thought that my extensive libraries would be enough to entertain 
her but alas, she didn't appreciate books like I did.

	I switched off the bell and looked at my wife.  Tara had bright 
red hair that was free and around her shoulders today.  A green bra 
held her pale, heavy breasts and her pale legs were encased in lovely 
green fishnet stockings.  Lingerie was the only clothing I allowed my 
wife, to remind her of her sole purpose; to be my fuck toy.  

	The diamond choker, which doubled as a collar, looked lovely on 
her.  All of those diamonds, a fortune on her neck, and the woman was 
still a bitch to deal with.  

	"Tara, why did you leave this book outside?" I asked her.

	"I did?" Tara asked with contempt.  "I'm sorry, it was so God 
awful dull, I couldn't read it anymore and just put it down."

	I smiled at her insult and I saw Tara's lips flicker into a 
frown.  I was right.  She was only interested in baiting me.

	"Tara, I was going to have to punish you rather severely for 
this," I said and Tara's lips almost twitched into a smile.  "This is 
one of my favorite books, and getting it autographed was no easy task, 
even for my money.  Yet, now that I think about it, what you really 
need is a job."

	Tara's pretty face was confused.  "What do you mean?  Like at an 
office or something?"

	I laughed.  "No, no.  You're going to do a little job for me and 
you're going to save me some money."

	Tara frowned.  Her green eyes were narrow slits and I could tell 
she was wondering what I could be talking about.  I'm sure visions of 
seducing my rivals or some other romantic nonsense were dancing through 
her head.  

	"Meet me in half an hour in the ballroom," I said.  I knew she 
would be there.  As much as she would hate to wait for me, she hated 
being bored more.

	Later, I meet Tara in the ballroom.  I brought with me a bucket, 
and a several instruments my wife would need.  Tara looked at the 
bucket filled with soapy water.  It was perhaps the first time she had 
seen such a bucket.  It was about two feet wide and it had wheels.  
This bucket was commonly used by janitors, which would account for why 
my wife had never seen one.

	I looked at the ballroom.  I had never used it, but that was 
going to change soon.  It was huge; big enough to include an Olympic 
size swimming pool.  Grand glass doors opened outside, allowing both 
moonlight and sunlight to flood the room.  The tiles were green with a 
seashell d cor.  This room hadn't been used since my grandfather's 
time, which meant it was dusty, dirty and in need of a good cleaning.

	"You want me to mop?" Tara asked.  Her voice was lacking her 
usual vigor.  I think the girl was actually scared.  Labor seemed to be 
the only thing she truly feared.  

	"Yes," I answered, confirming her fears.  "But first, you need 
the right uniform."

	Tara rolled her eyes.  "I can't believe you would be as lame as 
to have me wear a maid's uniform," she sneered.

	"You're not that lucky," I chuckled.  "First, remove your bra."  
She did as I commanded.  Her breasts were as lovely as ever.  I noticed 
the nipples were slightly hard.  The poor girl thought this was going 
to be sexual.

"Now, we need to remove this," I said as I took off her diamond 
choker.  Tara frowned and her hand went to her neck almost with regret.  

	"Diamonds are too good for a working girl," I said.  "You will 
get these back when you've finished your job.  Leather is the 
appropriate quality for you now."

	I slipped the heavy leather around her neck.  It was an ugly 
thing, brown and ragged with a two-inch wide band.  Two D-rings hung on 
the sides and a big yellow sponge hung on the front.  I snapped the 
collar onto her neck and snuggled the sponge between her tits.  Two 
cords hung from the bottom of the sponge and I snapped these cords 
together behind Tara's back like a bikini.  Now the sponge was secure 
against her chest, emerging from between her tits like a bumper or a 
crest.

	"Handcuffs, of course," I said as I snapped matching brown 
leather cuffs to her wrists.  I then lifted her wrists to her collar, 
and snapped the cuffs to the D-rings there.  Her elbows hung down over 
her breasts, but she hadn't guessed the purpose yet.

	I then placed two yellow pasties on her nipples.  The thick 
material flattened her nipples down and Tara had no idea why I was 
doing this.  She would soon thank me.

	"Bend over and grab your knees," I told her.  "My mistake, you 
can't grab anything with your hands like that."  

	Tara growled and bent over.  Her ass was so nice and round; I had 
to control my urges.  I picked up the feather duster I brought, and 
placed the handle against Tara's anus.

	"Wait!" Tara screamed.  "It's too big!"

	"Nonsense," I said and pushed it in.  "You've taken much bigger 
than this from my cock."  It was amazing to watch the black handle open 
her up.  Her pale cheeks contracted around the smooth handle, 
stretching to accommodate the intrusion.  Only when her ass had a tight 
grip on the duster did I stop pushing.  I didn't want it falling out 
while she worked.  It would be another distraction to keep her busy.

	Finally, I dropped to her pretty ankles and tightly cuffed them 
together.  Only two small links joined her ankles, making it impossible 
for her to walk.  Crawling has a wonderful way of making a woman 
appreciate what freedoms she has.  I held her firmly while I pushed her 
down to her knees.  

	Tara looked at the bucket in front of her.  Understanding began 
to dawn on her face.  My wife was a quick learner.

"Today, you'll be cleaning the floor," I said.  I pushed her 
firmly by her shoulders down to the bucket.  Tara bent over the bucket 
and submerged her tits and the sponge.  I lifted her back up, and she 
cried out as the warm soapy water ran down her front and dripped from 
her crotch.

	"Oh God!" Tara moaned.  Her poor sex was so starved; the simple 
pleasure of warm water aroused her endlessly.

	"Keep your mind on the job," I admonished.  I guided her 
shoulders so that she bent over down to the floor.  "Use your elbows to 
squeeze your tits, which will squeeze the sponge."

	Tara did as I commanded.  Water fell from the sponge as Tara 
pressed down on her tits.  

	"Now keep your tits squeezed, and use the sponge to scrub the 
floor."

	Tara tried to do as I commanded.  With her ankles hobbled and 
bent over, she looked ridiculous as she rubbed her chest on the floor.  
I heard her groan and asked what her problem was.

	"My nipples," Tara moaned.  "The pasties are pulling my nipples 
when I rub on the floor."

	"You're lucky," I told her.  "If it wasn't for the pasties, you 
would rub your nipples off.  Think about that as you clean.  Every 
hour, a maid will come and change your bucket.  Every two hours, you'll 
get a bathroom break.  At lunch, you'll have thirty minutes to eat a 
fresh bowl of stew and a bowl of water."

	"I'm doing this all day?" Tara asked.

	"Oh no, that would be cruel," I said.  "You're doing this until 
the entire floor is clean.  Since it will take several days, I'm 
limiting you to a twelve hour workday."

	"Twelve hours!" Tara exclaimed.

	"Twelve hours is the legal limit for employment," I told her.  
"If you had worked a day in your life, you would know that.  Like you, 
I have been privileged to not have to earn a living.  Unlike you, I 
appreciate how special my wealth is.  Since you do not, you'll do this 
job and maybe when you have a free day again, you'll think of better 
things to do with your time rather than annoy me." 

	With that I left. 

	That doesn't mean I ignored her.  Years ago, I had some maids who 
used the ballroom as a hideaway.  They would avoid their work and hide 
in the one room no one went to.  When I found out about it, I fired 
them and installed cameras around the chandeliers.  The cameras are 
completely silent and with their aid, I've witnessed three trysts and 
fired six employees.  Today it would help me see that Tara was properly 
punished.

	   I sat in my study and watched Tara on my television.  My 
topless wife looked good on a fifty-inch screen.  I kept that in mind.  
Perhaps there were other ways she could earn money for me.  I like to 
make full use of my investments.

	Tara frowned as she rubbed her tits and sponge on the floor.  I 
imagined her nipples being tugged and pulled under her pasties as her 
tits wiped the tiled floor and how sensitive they were becoming.  The 
warm soap water was a blessing that Tara soon learned to love.  She 
sighed when she soaked her chest in the water; seeking the relief the 
water gave her breasts.  That sigh turned into frustrated moans when 
she rose back up.  The water slid down her front, coating her beautiful 
body in soapy water and flushing over her chastity belt covered sex.  I 
watched as Tara's hips would buckle in frustration.  She wanted so 
badly to hump something but the belt made such desires hopeless.  It 
was amazing.  My wife's sex drive was being thwarted by the menial job 
she brought on herself.

	I read my books and listened to some music, keeping an eye on my 
wife from time to time.  She was making little progress, but she didn't 
stop working.  Her tits were bright red with friction and her green 
stockings were filthy from the floor.  Tara's hair kept falling in her 
face when she bent over, which meant it was wet from the mop bucket and 
dirty from hitting the floor.  She looked exhausted.  

	Linda came in with a fresh bucket.  I regretted not having 
microphones placed, but it was clear she was taunting Tara.  Tara's 
face turned ugly as she said something at my employee.  Linda laughed 
and brought a squeeze bottle of mustard out of her skirt.  I laughed as 
she squirted the entire contents of the bottle onto the floor.  Tara 
just glared at Linda, her bound wrists and hobbled ankles leaving her 
helpless.  I didn't think Linda had it in her, and I applauded her 
venom from the privacy of my study.  

	Tara needed to learn to get along with her fellow properties.  I 
did make a note to have the bottle of mustard deducted from Linda's 
salary.  I appreciated the insult, but that was my mustard they used.  
I hoped it wasn't the honey mustard.

	Two hours later, a maid came by the take Tara to the bathroom.  I 
don't have cameras in the bathroom, but I can imagine the difficulties 
there.  Bound as Tara was, she would have to rely on the maid to wipe 
her.  I wish I could have seen that, but when Tara came out of the 
bathroom, her face had the loveliest crimson blush.  It was just 
another humiliation to keep her mind occupied.  

	Tara developed a clumsy rhythm.  Dip the breasts in the water, 
moan, squeeze her tits with her breasts and then hobble over to a 
section of the floor.  Scrub, scrub and scrub with her ass high in the 
air and her breasts crushed to the floor.  The feather duster 
protruding from her ass wobbled as she moved.  It let me know how much 
she wiggled which was an immense turn-on.  After scrubbing, it was 
hobble back to the pail, her tits black with dust and dirt.  Repeat.

	The hours passed by.  

	I noticed Emily, my chauffeur, walk into the ballroom.  I put 
down my book, wondering about what was to unfold.  Emily was very 
statuesque as it was, but watching her stand next to the kneeling Tara 
only emphasized her height.  Tara looked up at the busty blonde with 
defiance, knowing that the only reason Emily could have for being here 
was to torment Tara.

	To our surprise, Emily did nothing.  My chauffeur merely gave her 
a look over and left.  I laughed while Tara's face showed her 
confusion.  Now my wife was going to wonder what horror Emily had 
planned for her.  I could guess.  Emily just wanted Tara to know my 
wife was at her mercy.    

While Tara worked, I worked as well.  I made final arrangements 
on a scholarship program I was working on.  I contacted a friend about 
Tara's punishment, which I planned to enact as soon as she cleaned the 
floor.  There was even time to do a little writing as night came.  As I 
saved my file, I looked at the monitor to see Tara still toiling.  I 
decided I had to pay her a visit.

	She was soaking her tits when I walked into the ballroom.  
Someone had turned on the lights, and you could compare the clean part 
of the floor to the dirty.  The clean part looked hopelessly small.  

Tara looked at me and I saw so much grime on the normally 
pristine face.  Her hair was in her face and her shoulders were 
drooping from exhaustion.  I just had to fuck her.

"What are you doing?" Tara whined as I stepped behind her.  
Stupid questions don't deserve to be answered.  I had been watching her 
all day.  She has been nude, sweating and squirming all day.  I 
couldn't remember the last time I had been this ready to cum.  This is 
why I bought her.

While her tits were still soaking in the mop water, I pulled down 
my pants and knelt behind her.  Her ankles were hobbled but I pulled 
her thighs apart and unlocked her chastity belt.  The small metal plate 
swung out of place and I placed my cock at her sex.  Tara's moan of 
anticipation made me realize something.  By watching her all day, I had 
inflicted denial on myself. 

My cock slide into her sex and the clenching force she gave me 
was amazing. I pulled her feather duster out so it wouldn't poke me as 
I fucked her.  Tara moaned as the pressure on her ass was released and 
I could feel her tremble inside.  Her sex was slick from all the water, 
which had dripped down her body, but I soon noticed a more intimate 
lubrication coating my cock.

Her hair became my rein as I gripped those dirty locks in my 
hands.  Tara moaned as I pulled her head back, arching her back like a 
bow.  As far as her bound ankles would allow, her thighs opened to me.  
Even after working all day on this floor, Tara was still my fucktoy at 
the end of the day.

I fucked her.  Fast, rapid strokes slammed my pelvis into the 
back of her thighs and ass.  The mop bucket water splashed with each 
impact, agitating Tara's sensitive tits.  I didn't care.  My only 
concern was to drive my thick cock into her tight, dirty pussy.

Harder and harder my cock impaled my whore.

Faster and slicker, my cock penetrated my slut.

Tighter and tighter, her pussy clenched her master.

My cock exploded within seconds.  I roared my pleasure as I 
climaxed, feeling distinctly primal for fucking my wife this cheap, 
unritualized way.   Her pussy went into spasms as my cum flooded her.  
I could feel her sex clamp down, wanting to feel every inch of me.  
Tara was close, very close to her own climax.  As my cum spilled out of 
her, I could feel her orgasm slipping away.  My cock was beginning to 
go limp and her pleasure would be denied another night.

"No," Tara whimpered as I pulled my cock free.  

I sat back, trying to catch my breath.

"Fuck me," Tara begged in a whisper.

"No," I answered.  I zipped my pants up and clicked her belt lock 
back in place.  The sound of the click broke her spirit.

"Is that my punishment?" Tara asked.  There were actually tears 
in her eyes.  The slut really needed a good fuck.

"Of course that wasn't your punishment," I said.  "This isn't a 
punishment.  This is just to help you appreciate how easy your life is, 
remember?"

"Then what was this?" Tara demanded.

"This was just for me," I answered.  

As I began to leave, I remembered something.  I returned to her 
and turned her around.  The feather duster slipped easily back into her 
tight ass.

"Just a few more hours," I told the moaning woman.

To be continued.

If you liked this story and want to see more, please let me know at 
Arthurgthomas@hotmail.com

My stories can be found at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ArthurThomas/www/



 

      

	  
	

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