So Mister had asked me, as part of my rules from last winter, maybe fall, to consider getting my nipples pierced. He would never have forced me to do this, but I knew he really wanted me to. I was scared as shit to do it, but I did agree to consider it, and so I did. Around mid-January, I consented. I’d done the research, talked to women who had had it done, and come to my decision. I’d do it. Mister was thrilled and after I told him, we went out that night and had it done. Did it hurt – holy fuck, yes! Was it worth it? Holy fuck, yes. Why haven’t I mentioned it before? Because it has taken this long for my nips to fully heal. Now, though, they don’t hurt a bit – well – unless Mister decides they should hurt. But oh lord, what fun they are! Mister’s favorite decoration for them is the barbells with hanging jewels. Normally, I wear a lightly padded bra and no one but Mister knows about our secret.
Today, however, all of that changed. Mister decided that I was not allowed to wear a bra. No matter what. It was a beautiful day and so, this morning, Mister decided that we were going to have a day outing. We would go to a nearby town and do some antiquing, go out to lunch, then hit a museum before heading home again. I was all for it. Until he said No Bra. He also chose my clothing for the day. A bright red tank and a yellow broomstick skirt. I put on the the tank, looked in the mirror and begged – begged – him to reconsider. He said no. I had been out of sorts for a few days and needed a reminder of my sexuality. I asked once more for a bra and was rewarded with a ten minute spanking for questioning his authority – which I deserved. After that, I did as he instructed. We had a lovely day and as I received more and more both appreciative and horrified looks, I began to understand why Mister had insisted on no bra. At first, I was embarrassed, then I felt empowered. Yes, I was a sexual being. Yes, I had chosen to have my nipples pierced. Yes, I was submissive to my husband. Yes, I was proud of this.
By the time we returned home, I was both humble and horny. No longer out of sorts, I wanted nothing short of total submission and ravishing – which Mister was more than happy to comply with! We were barely in the house before I was on my knees and unzipping his jeans. He laughed and allowed me to worship his cock. I was dripping wet. He was hard, hot, and horny. I wanted no gentleness and he gave me none. Instead, he fucked my mouth just like he would have fucked my pussy. He pulled my nipples. I moaned and began to tremble. Honestly, am I the only person who can orgasm from performing fellatio?? He felt me begin to orgasm and pushed my head down. I gagged, but stayed in place as he found his own pleasure, his cock pressed against the back of my mouth, his hot cream shooting down my throat. I was sobbing. No idea why, but I was. He helped me to stand and took me into the bedroom. He played with me until I was boneless, sucking my nipples, fingering my holes, eating my pussy. I had come several more times and he was again hard. Then, he took his time fucking me. Hard. No mercy. He pounded into me, pulling on the barbells, pinching my nipples. Again, I came over and over again. Finally, he filled me with his seed, calling out my name.
“So,” he said later, “will you argue with me again when I deny you a bra?”
“No. No, I won’t.”
“Good. Because I’ve decided you’re not wearing one for the rest of the weekend.”