© 2022, All rights reserved — mimaster

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Greetings readers,

This is the 200th chapter I’ve posted on Literotica between the numerous series I’ve written since I started submitting back in January of 2009. It’s a bit hard for me to fathom that, really. There are just two chapters to go on the Alex series; one to tidy up the main threads, and then an epilogue of sorts… but I felt it was personally essential that the 200th submission be of the character that started everything. Ann.

Rest assured, I’ll have the finale of Alex (and Christina) up in the next couple of weeks, as well a coming chapter of Betsy. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this latest installment of Ann: The Married Years.

Mimaster

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Ann sauntered sexily down the hallway, having closed the door to the bedroom to allow Neil a little more sleep. It was Friday, a little before six in the morning, and while she felt incredible, she was in a bit of a melancholy mood, which belied how she moved. She was anticipating a long, fun weekend with her sexy husband, who thankfully had Saturday off. But once again it was a shift change variety, with him going from first to second, and that loomed over her happy disposition.

That didn’t mean the switch from first to second shift was at all times bad. The last time that had happened was the weekend of the Super Bowl, and it proved to be incredible. Not the party, or her annual appearance as one of the Super Bowl sluts. The game was exciting from a sporting perspective, but the gathering had been a profound dud as far as many were concerned, including Ann. The sexual excitement was lacking, to say the least. And the pall Martina had cast over the entire night just by showing up in her Dallas Cowboy cheerleader costume was one of the biggest reasons. The resentment of her being center stage by herself again was noticeable. In Ann’s mind, the party was a disaster. Yet it was what happened when she and Neil came home that she recalled so fondly.

That was on her mind as she grabbed one of her purple pens out of a drawer of the island. Moving to the calendar hanging on the wall, she confirmed the number she’d neatly written in the bottom right corner of the box for the day before. She smiled sweetly as she wrote the number ’80’ in the corner of April 19th.

She loved the symmetry of the duel discipline. She would add a number each day, noting the new total of days since the last time she’d put on the collar as Annabelle. It mattered, because whenever she’d become that persona again, she’d end up taking a spank, or a swat, or switch to her Ass to profile for each of those days. Then, in an ironic twist, she’d be required to mark those days off again on the crawlspace wall with a piece of chalk, placed in her pretty mouth. It was a check and balance system of sorts, and she found she actually looked forward to it.

It had gained even more meaning to her over the past three months, since she’d been used so brutally, and wonderfully. She glanced down at her left foot, the ornate tattoo that branded her forever as Annabelle calling out to her. It was something she’d done every day since she’d gotten it, looking at it almost longingly. She loved it. But if she were honest, it was the one on the inside of her right wrist that meant more to her. It was just six tiny numbers strung together. 091489. The date Annabelle was officially born.

She looked at her wrist, her wry smile widening as a wondered occurred to her. She was surprised it hadn’t before. After all, she’d stare a her foot, and then her wrist, every day just after she’d write the new number on her calendar. She looked at it, now marked with another day to profile for down the line. Unable to put the wondered out of her head, she stepped back in front of the calendar, lifting up some of the pages, looking ahead… to September.

Her heart began pounding in her chest, the excitement of discovering her slave birthday was gonna land on a weekend. And a Saturday, to boot.

“I wonder what I can do to make sure Annabelle gets to celebrate her seventh birthday,” she giggled excitedly.

Doing the math in her head, she came up with 227 as the number of days it would be between appearances. It was a good number. Well more than the 177 she’d atoned for in January. Her hand went to her smooth, shapely Ass, remembering how it felt for days after the last time. She could imagine the raised welts from some of the treatment she’d been subjected too. Her smile widened, thinking of the bruising that lasted three weeks. The idea of knowing when she might become Annabelle again was making her Pussy tingle. She could feel the wetness, a trickle threatening to escape past her parting lips. She moaned as she moved her hips, trying to make it happen, wanting to feel it start to roll down the inside of one of her thighs.

With that failing, she moved to the coffee maker, deciding that it would have to happen naturally if it were gonna at all. Instead she focused on calming herself. She was beyond Horny at the moment, thoughts of what Neil did to her in her dungeon running wild in her head. She’d only been held down there for forty-eight hours. Well, it was a bit more than that, yet it was far from her personal record of ten days. She used to hold the family record, but her mother-in-law Betsy currently held the title belt with eleven. And now that Tina was an offical part of the family, Ann thought if she might be a new contender.

“I wonder when I’m ever going to get a chance to do that again,” she mused. It was obvious it would be years, what with them having an active, precocious two-year old. Owen was the reason she’d been subjected to Neil’s role as Master the last time, needing to give her a refresher in patience to deal with a youngster that was testing the limits of what a terrible two can get away with.

Things really hadn’t changed as far as his behavior. While he wasn’t as bad as the other toddlers in his play group, he certainly was having more tantrums, and he was into everything. Neil had balanced Ann’s center that weekend, like a recalibration, and she was able to handle her son while Neil went to second shift… and then third. She knew she wasn’t in need of another mind clearing session as his loving slave just yet. But she was suddenly looking very forward to September.

She sat down at the island on one of the barstools, sipping her coffee. She kept looking at her wrist, studying the tattoo. Her heart fluttered, the notion of it’s very meaning hitting home once again. The two tattoos were a reminder that she was at all times Annabelle. It was the time between, and the length of the physical side of that part of her that varied. That she was daydreaming about the next time in September, if there wasn’t one in between, proved without a doubt that Annabelle was at all times with her. The biggest difference between the marathon ten day ordeal she endured and a two day event like her most recent was the intensity. Neil was more focused in those shorter encounters, and with that came an electric dynamic between the two.

Ann could feel her Pussy leaking, a trail running down toward her asshole. She was fighting the urge to wiggle in her seat. And she was finding it near impossible to ignore her throbbing clit. Her nipples were pulsing in time with it, her body craving Sex. Unfortunately she knew she’d have to wait until Neil came home from work, and most likely when Owen went to bed for the night. Stealing away for a quickie was appealing, but she knew it wouldn’t satisfy her sudden carnal needs. It was incredible that she was already feeling that way, since her husband had fucked her senseless the night before.

Taking a deep, calming breath, she got up. That trick didn’t work, her eyes darting to the wet spot on the barstool she left behind. She realised she might have to cave and make herself cum while Neil was in the Shower. She’d need relief before her son woke up. Checking the clock as she rinsed out her coffee cup, she was surprised Neil wasn’t in the Shower already.

Eschewing the idea of putting the mug in the dishwasher since she had yet to empty it from running it overnight, she got out the bottle of Palmolive from under the sink she kept for such things. When she finished, she bent at the waist to put the bottle away, feeling her husband’s thick, rigid cock pressing against the crack of her Ass.

“Somebody’s wet,” he chuckled as he felt her secretions against his hardness.

“Somebody’s running late for work. Don’t tease me like this Neil,” she moaned as she stood, glancing over her shoulder with her eyes half closed.

He reached around, tweaking her nipples as she stood. “Mmm… you’re definitely Horny. Your nipples are massive.”

“Yes, I’m Horny. So please, don’t tease. Go get ready for work.”

“Actually, I’m thinking about putting a load in the dishwasher,” he quipped.

She smirked, her hand reaching behind to grab his neck, her back arching in the process. She allowed him to fondle her sexy body, all the while playfully protesting about what he was doing to her.

“Damn you, you sexy bastard. How dare you stoke my fire knowing full well you’re going to be getting ready to go to work in five minutes. You’re going to have me creaming in my shorts all day waiting for you to come home tonight.”

“I’m not going to work.”

“You’re not? Why?”

“I called in sick.”

“You’re… sick?”

“No. I called in sick.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They implemented the new personal day policy in January, remember?”

It was a new advantage the business rolled out at the start of the year for employees with five years of service. Everyone that met that milestone of loyalty to the corporation received five personal days at the start of the year, and they would earn another day for every four months of service. It was a way to reward longevity while acknowledging that most new hourly employees had to create up vacation time. This allowed them to be sick and not have to burn a vacation day to get paid.

Neil was in a different position as a salaried member of management. He was able to negotiate his vacation when he hired on as part of his compensation package. He currently had three weeks. The personal time allowed him some flexibility. It was another way to get time off without dipping into his vacation.

“So, you’re not sick.”

“No babe. I haven’t missed a day of work since Owen was born. But I told Thelma I wanted the day off. I know how you get when I go to second shift, especially with the way he’s been acting since he turned two. I figured I’d ease your stress a bit. Besides, I’ll return the favor for her. You can be sure of that.”

She turned in his arms, pulling him into a deep kiss. When she finally pulled back, wicked grin showed where her mind was.

“Take me to bed, lover.”

Lifting her, he carried her to the dining room table, setting her Ass gently on the edge. “We don’t have time for that. Owen will be up soon. I’ll just plow that wet Pussy here, if you don’t mind.”

She lay back, lifting her legs and spreading her knees wide for him as he placed the tip of his cock at her entrance. “Anything you want. I’m yours this weekend.”

Neil shot her an odd smirk, and said, “Well… I might have other plans for you.”

She didn’t have time to dwell on his opinion. He grabbed hold of her thighs and rammed forward, bucking into her hard. He proceeded to jackhammer her cunt. Any foreplay was eschewed for the sake of brevity. They really didn’t know what time their son would get up, and that drove them both.

Ann’s ample bosom was flopping about, his strokes deep and purposeful. His grip on her upper legs held her in place, and she was tossing her head back and forth, mumbling incoherently. In a word, he was ravaging her Pussy, and she was delirious with lust.

She tried to force herself back into him, but he controlled the action; much like when he was her Master, and she was his loving Annabelle. The wondered was fresh in her mind, and while she hadn’t brought up the idea of her slave birthday in September, it would be much different than the one she’d have in July when she’d turn thirty-five. That number didn’t bother her. She’d gotten that out of her system when she pitched a fit about turning thirty. Neil was right. Her life and her outlook were only getting better with age.

She was in the best shape of her life, and she looked more like a woman than the girl she felt she was then. Her breasts had remained larger after the pregnancy, something she was beyond thrilled about. Her hips were fuller from giving birth. She had more curves, yet her abs and legs were incredibly toned. She’d been a three sport athlete in high college, and that young waif couldn’t hold a candle to the woman she’d become. She could say the same of her husband, who was more mature and masculine than the stud she remembered lusting over all those years ago. Her hands roamed over his abdomen as he leaned forward for more leverage, her fingers traipsing along the defined muscles of his six-pack. He was like a sexual God in her eyes, and it made her feel small. It also made her swoon.

That man was between her legs, owing her Pussy like never before. Unable to help, she raised her arms above her head, clasping her hands together. It was a way of showing she was submitting to him, at least in that moment. He was in charge, and from the cryptic opinion he’d made just before he plunged his massive cock inside her, she was certain he’d be leading her through their now extended weekend. She wasn’t sure where it would lead, although she was certain it wouldn’t go so far as a trip to the dungeon again, but she was eager to follow wherever he took her physically, and mentally.

Her back arched, her first climax upon her like a tidal wave.

“OOOHHH FUUUCCCK!” she bellowed.

Neil silently scolded her with his eyes, reminding her that their romp would be cut short if their youngest showed up. It was unlikely he’d awaken from just one outburst, but they couldn’t chance another. Thankfully, reinforcements arrived.

Neil noticed the movement to his right, through the French door to the deck. His sexy neighbor Samantha was peering through the glass, her hand over her eyes to get a clearer view. He motioned for her to come inside with a quick movement of his head, keeping up the torrid pace he’d set from the begin.

Ann heard the door open, her head falling to the left to see who it was; although she knew before she opened her eyes. Only one person ever showed up at their back door… her friend that lived down the hill behind them. She smiled sweetly at Sam’s arrival, not saying anything. She knew she wasn’t there by accident. It was part of whatever Neil’s plans were for her for their weekend.

“Morning Samantha,” Neil offered.

“Good morning, handsome. Sounds like you have your hands full this morning. I heard her Cumming as I came up the steps on the deck.”

“Yeah… she was already worked up when I got to her. Pretty sure she’s been fantasizing about doing something naughty.”

“Does that surprise you?”

“Not really. All part of being married to a beautiful slut.”

Ann was listening to their banter, unable to speak for herself. She had questions, but another Orgasm was fast approaching. One that Neil saw coming before she even did.

“Do you mind giving me a hand, Samantha?”

“Not at all. How can I help?”

“She’s about to go off again. I don’t want her waking up Owen just yet. Do you think you can find a way to keep her quiet?”

Samantha let the silky robe she was wearing slip off her shoulders, revealing her naked body underneath. Kicking off her sandals, she climbed up onto the tabletop, straddling Ann’s angelic face. “My pleasure,” she teased before lowering her glistening Pussy over Ann’s waiting mouth.

Ann came shortly afterward, the thickness of Neil’s cock against her pulsing clit setting her off like a rocket. Her screams of ecstasy were drowned out by Samantha’s cunt, pressing hard against her face.

The suddenness of her involvement in a threesome made her head spin. It was just the sort of unexpected sexual twist that she loved to spring on Neil. That he’d reversed the roles had her anticipating what was to come over the weekend. For him to begin out with such a bold move had her on edge.

So was Samantha, Ann’s talented tongue making short work of the task presented her. It was hard to believe that she’d fought the notion of being bisexual soon after her engagement to Neil. It had seemed so preposterous at the time. She’d wondered about being with women; even fantasized about it. Her initial dabbling with her friend Dana at the hands of Neil, ‘making’ her do as part of a risque board game they played with Dana’s husband Chad, had only whetted her appetite. Yet she didn’t consider the possibility of actually being bisexual. She felt she was simply curious and enthusiastic.

It was her third encounter with a woman that confirmed her sexual identity, although she continued to deny it for years. Her passionate night with Maryam, the masseuse at the posh hotel they stayed in while passing through Utah, spoke to her inner voice; the one that guided her sexuality. She’d been the aggressor, a role she never considered feasible in her naughty dreams. Yet this young woman was intoxicating, a mixture of raw eroticism and exotic beauty. Her heritage had much to do with that, as did her positive energy.

Ann was drawn to her from the moment they locked eyes. Walking hand in hand to the room Maryam used to take care of her clients, she could feel the electric connection they had. Even though Maryam wasn’t gay, or even bisexual, there was little doubt in Ann’s mind that they’d end up together sexually before the night was over. That’s why she pursued her like she had, leading them to where they both wanted to go.

In they years since that night, Ann had been with several dozen other women. She’d long lost count, stopping that trivial notion once she came to terms with whom she really was. That it was her husband that helped her along in that journey, supporting and even encouraging her sexual growth, might have been a bit of a surprise. But it shouldn’t have been. She’d never been with a man so grounded and secure in his own masculinity. He wasn’t at all threatened by her discoveries. Instead he looked for methods to continue pushing her boundaries, whether they be as Annabelle, or Anna Renee… or as Anna, his bisexual plaything he loved to distribute.

Samantha’s lower body began to shake, her climax ripping through her like a lightning bolt. Instead of arching her back and screaming out, she threw herself forward, locking lips with Neil to stifle her emotions. The intensity of their kiss was unexpected, and she exploded all over Ann’s face. Neil was forced to pause for a moment as their neighbor continued to gush.

Ann swallowed, her mouth filled with her neighbors sweet secretions. She kept sucking at her clit, trying to get her off a second time. But Samantha knew she’d be needed elsewhere soon, and she’d need to regain her faculties if she was to fulfill those obligations.

Breaking away from Neil, she lifted herself off of Ann and climbed off the table. But, she took the time to give her lover a kiss first.

“Thanks for that sweetie. I Love you.”

“I Love you too, Sam,” Ann replied dreamily.

Neil pulled out, his throbbing cock pulsing as he looked down at his Wife like she was prey. “Enough of that. Flip the fuck over so I can plow that Ass.”

Ann did as she was told, her feet finding the floor, her torso flat against the surface of the sturdy table. But that didn’t stop her from reacting to what he’d basically demanded. “Again with the plowing. What are you, a fucking farmer now?”

“I’m about to plant my seed… you’re ovulating. We’re not ready for another one yet, so yeah, I’m plowing your Ass!”