Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
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   This story is a part of a trilogy (One Week for Stefan Berg, A Perfect
Husband and Another Woman) which is about the young man Stefan, who is
forced into slavery by his cousin and his friends.  If you are underaged or
offended by the following, please don't read further.
   BDSM Bondage Discipline Humiliation Slavery Scat Wet Chastity Diapers
Infantilism Spanking Smothering Body Modification Blackmail Transgender
Forced sex And many more lovely fetishes and stuff!
   If you love it, enjoy!
   I, Mariette Sadine, own this story with its copyright (c).  Please don't
copy or publish it anywhere else without my permission.
   If you love or hate my stories, please email me at
mariettesadine@gmail.com and tell me what you think.  Or if you have
anything else to say.  I love to get emails but without sexual suggestions
if it is not ideas to more stories of course...
   If you want to be kind to me, send some similar stories to me or
pictures and illustrations showing the things inside my stories.
   Love you!
   Mariette
  
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   Chapter 12
   Mrs.  was asleep when I came in with the breakfast tray the next
morning. I woke her gently and put the tray beside her bed, on the
nightstand.       "Good morning, Mrs.," I said and poured milk into her
coffee cup and arranged so that she could eat in bed.       "Thank you. 
You can go now," she said and I went out of her room and took care of the
laundry in the laundry room that had dried overnight.  It was now that my
daily life as a housewife started, I thought and realized that I was
thinking of the word wife and not husband.  Husband felt strange when I was
dressed as a woman and not a man.  I looked in the mirror, I saw a woman.
Admittedly it was a mask, but the rest of the outfit created a whole and I
had to get used to the look from now on.  It felt strange to walk around in
a dress, but it was what Mrs wished and I knew it was safe for my best. 
Although it was probably one established habit.  She let me stay here and I
was pleased and grateful for her good will on which she might well have
kicked me out.  Maybe she loved me in her own way.  And I felt a huge deep
respect for Mrs.  too, despite what she did to me.  But although it had
taught me to respect her and her wills.
        Half an hour later, I heard the Mrs.  rang a bell in her bedroom
and I went there to see what it was.  She had finished eating and sat up in
bed with the blanket wrapped around her body.       "When you hear this
bell, you should come to me.  When I call on you," she said, and showed a
small silver bell she held in her hand.       "Yes, Mrs.," I replied,
retrieved the tray and walked out with it in the kitchen to wash and put
away.       After a while I heard the bell again, and I hurried into her
bedroom.  Now she lay down on her back in bed.  She allowed me not to see
her upper body.       "Go down on your knees and lick me, girl," she said
and I obeyed immediately.  For it was my job now.  To obey Mrs.  wishes and
meet her demands.  And so it would remain.  I wanted to do everything for
her, obey, and follow her orders to remain with Mrs.  For it was my only
choice.
        Before Mrs.  went out that day, where I don't know but I imagine
that she would meet her lover, she showed me a photograph she had put in a
frame on the wall in the hall.       "This image is our wedding picture. 
It's nice, isn't it?" she asked and I looked at it and realized that she
had not chosen one of the first pictures, but one of them when I was
sitting with Mrs.  knee with Mrs.  hand over my mouth.       "Yes, Mrs.  A
good choice of image ", I forced myself to say.  She looked at me and
laughed, but then became serious.       "This image, you should care for
tenderly.  Every time you look at it, you should think about which of us is
in charge.  I can silence you when I want but also give you the right to
speak.  Think about that.  The image must be dusted off and dried every day
because every speck of dust I find I'll see as an affront to our marriage.
"      "Yes, Mrs.  I'll look after it tenderly and carefully," I replied.
     "I will get home this afternoon and then I expect you have unpacked
the boxes in the apartment and then made a list of what is available and
where you place things.  I expect the dinner will be served exactly at
five. Cook for three people but prepare for two in the dining room.  You
will eat in the kitchen.  If you are good maybe I will reward you and fuck
you as the girl you are," Mrs.  said before she disappeared and the door
was locked behind me.
        And I accepted her words.  I was her girl from now on.  Her maid.
And I loved her.
   THE END
  
A Perfect Husband 12