Evil Slut Bride Ch. 02

"Um... OK... I've been trying really hard to be a good boy for you. But... um... it's been almost two weeks now since... since, um.... we tried to... um, tried to ... you know, make love, and ... we never did try again in Cancun, *and that's OK!* That's OK.. it's just, uh...."

"Ugh. Are you trying to demand sex from me tonight?"

"No! No! Not 'demand'. No, it's just--"

"What did you think, Davey, that once you married me you were gonna just get to use me any time to get your rocks off, like I'm one of those sluts in the porn you love so much!?"

"Honey, no! No, it's not like that at all."

"You know what? Jenna warned me this would happen!"

"Jenna?? What are you talking about?"

"Jenna warned me you were the kind of guy who would treat his wife like... just some kind of sex slave!"

"What!??"

"She said, 'Guys who don't want their wives to work want them to just depend on them for everything, and cook their food, and clean their house, and in return for putting a roof over their head, want them to just drop on their back and spread their legs for him any time he feels like it'!"

"Honey, you know I'm not--"

"You're not like that? Is that what you're gonna tell me? OK, so tell me this: If you love me so much, and care about me so much, and you're not just in it for sex, then how come you couldn't control yourself from looking at God-knows-how-many women in porn videos the whole time we were engaged!?"

"But honey... looking at porn is not that unusual, and--"

"Oh my god, Davey, you are NOT gonna try to justify your porn addiction by talking about what *other* guys do! I thought you were different, Davey! I thought you could be trusted! I thought you were the faithful type! It's not that you were ... masturbating... as disgusting as that is, but *that* I could at least forgive... it's that to get your sexual pleasure, you couldn't just close your eyes and fantasize about me! You had to look at OTHER women!"

I made myself cry at this point, and let Davey blather on trying to apologize, or justify himself. But then I just tossed a pillow at his head and said, "Just... just leave me alone right now! Just go sleep on the couch tonight!" I went face down into my pillow, crying. When he tried to approach me, I yelled, "Just go!!"

After he left the room, I got up and slammed the bedroom door. After a couple of minutes, I opened it, to make him think I was gonna come into the living room and make nice. Instead I brought a dusty, ratty blanket we had used as a mat when we moved, and some clothes he could wear to work the next day, and tossed them at him. I told him not to come into the bedroom tonight, and don't bother me in the morning, either.

I did that because I really *didn't* want him to come back in the bedroom... because of what I couldn't wait to do next. Just to be sure, I locked the bedroom door. I turned out the light so even if he came to the door, he wouldn't see any light under it. Then I took my phone into our closet, shut the door and sat on the floor. I called Jenna, and spoke quietly, but I couldn't WAIT to tell her what I'd done to my poor, wimpy hubby that night. We laughed our ASSES off! She said, "You did good, kid. That was perfect."

I almost felt bad for Davey the next day, and I actually did wake up while he was getting ready for work. But I stayed in the bedroom, to carry out the torture on his poor lovesick heart. Hahaha. I waited until he went to work, and then I got dressed so I could go straight to Jenna's. I ignored hubby's phone calls all day. But I did appreciate that he gave me so many orgasms. Confused? Well, Jenna and I played with each other, with hitachis and dildos, and her ropes and whips and such, and we kept my phone nearby. Every time Davey called, we'd look at the screen and laugh: There he is again, hahaha. Poooor guy, awwww. Then we'd listen to the pitiful, apologetic message he left, and both laugh. It got us so hot to know we were breaking him down together, and we would make each other, and ourselves, cum again! Before I left her place, I fished in my purse and found a little something I wanted her to hold onto for me, for the time being.

I made a really nice meal for when Davey got home, and I lit candles and put on some soft music. As soon as he hit the door and tried to speak, I put my finger to his lips and said, "Shhh." I turned my cheek for him to kiss me, and then I led him to the table for him to sit. I didn't act sweet or affectionate at all. I played it stone-faced. But at least I made him think, since I wasn't acting angry, things were probably OK.

I didn't let him say any of the stuff he'd probably rolled around his mind all day. I made small talk. I'd say, "Do you like the chicken? It's pretty good, huh?" Or, "So tell me about what happened at work today." Every time he tried to turn the subject to whatever little speech he had prepared (starting with "Look.. honey..."), I'd say, "Ah-ah... shhh... let's just enjoy our dinner."

After dinner, I told him I would clean up the kitchen and do the dishes, and I wanted him to light candles in the living room, and go to the couch, and just relax, and wait for me. He might have thought I was setting the scene for us to finally "make love" (ack!) and, to tell the truth, I kinda hoped he *did* think that. Because it would make what was going to happen so much sweeter... for me! Hahaha!

After making him wait for 30 or 40 minutes, I passed through the living room and said, "Don't go anywhere", then I went to the bedroom to change into some sexy lingerie. I came back and sat beside him on the sofa and loosened a couple of buttons on his shirt. I caressed his hair a little and ran my finger along his upper chest. When he leaned toward me to kiss me, I just pulled my head back. I hadn't smiled; I still wore my stone face.

I quickly patted his crotch and said, "I have an idea for how we can let this guy out to play a little."

"OK."

"I know I was... kind of a bitch last night. I'm sorry."

"It's OK, honey, I--"

"Shhhhhh. Shh. Just .... just let me... let me talk. You are right. You have been very patient, so ... maybe I .... well... here's the thing: When I woke up today, and you were gone, I felt bad for you... I mean, even though I DON'T think I was totally wrong. Actually, I think I was mostly right, but... I mean... I don't know, maybe I was just a little too harsh... ANYWAY... I felt like I needed some advice, so I went over to Jenna's today, and... you know, I told her all about everything..."

At that, he carefully asked, "You told Jenna.... what did youuuu... um, what did you... tell Jenna?"

"Well, you know... how when I took your cage off that one night, so we could have sex for the first time--"

"Wait... uh... you told her about.... about the ... the cage?"

"Yeah, you know, I--"

"Well, wait. Wait. Ummmm.... you told Jenna that you... you have my... my, uh... penis... in a chastity cage?"

"Yeah, of course. Jenna's my friend, of course I told her. She already knew, she's known since I put it on you."

I could tell he was mortified to find that out. Hahaha! Oh my god, this was so much fun.

"Women tell each other everything," I said. "Of course Jenna knows. She knows. Mom knows. All my bridesmaids knew..." That was actually a total lie. Only Jenna knew.

"Oh my god," Davey said, sighing and slapping his hand to his forehead.

"What? It's no big deal. Why shouldn't they know?"

"I just... *sighhhh* Honey... I don't want all kinds of people to know personal stuff like that."

I sighed and acted annoyed. "Ya knowwww...."

"Well, honey, it's... I mean... it's kind of embarrassing, you know?"

"What's embarrassing? That you want to be a good boy for your wife, and so, you were willing to put your penis... by the way, a wonderful, WONDERFUL thing to do to show how much you love me.. you were willing to let me put your penis in chastity so I'd know I could trust you. Why should you be embarrassed about that!? That is ... the most AMAZING kind of sacrifice. That is ... just ... wonderful."

"Well, I mean, it's just... so personal, I just don't--"

"OK... are you gonna let me finish, and tell about talking to Jenna, or..."

"OK, OK... I'm sorry. Go ahead."

"So... LIKE, I was saying! ... I went over to Jenna's, and I told her how when I unlocked you that night in Cancun, so we could have sex... how ... it was .... just ... horrible! and how youuuu, like... couldn't even last like two seconds inside me, and I didn't even get to finish bringing myself off, before you just like.... ecch... started squirting...."

I was looking out into the distance as I said these things, but whenever I glanced at Davey, I could tell he was TOTALLY embarrassed to think of Jenna hearing about his sexual failures. Hahaha. I almost wanted to laugh, but I had to keep hammering my doomed little wimp. I had to break him down. I had to get him to the point where he felt like a complete loser who couldn't do anything right. That way, he'd stop trying to figure out on his own what to do to make me happy. That way, he'd be ready to just do anything I said.

"So... I told her I wasn't really looking forward to trying it again. I was kinda... like... dreading it. So... I've probably been unfair to you giving you... NO pleasure... at ALL ... because I didn't wanna have sex. But Jenna said, and this makes a lot of sense, I think, that first of all, since we have our whole lives together, if you really love me like you say you do, you should be willing to wait until I'm really ready. You should be willing to wait as long as it takes for me to feel comfortable. Whether that's a week, or a month, or even a year!"

Davey gasped at that part, and started to speak. I cut him off: "I'm not SAAAYYing it will be that long, I'm just making a point. Let me finish. So first of all, you should be willing to wait, because we have all the time in the world, and second of all, if you think about it, you should NEVER really have the freedom to decide, 'OK, we're gonna have sex now.' I mean, it should ALWAYS be the wife who decides how much sex there is, and how to have sex... I mean like, you know, what positiooooon, or... what room it's iiiiiin, or... what time of daaayyyy... whether hubby is allowed to seeee, or whether he's blindfollldeeeed. Basically the wife should always be the one who decides everything, because... OK, you know the saying, 'Happy wife, happy life'?"

He nodded.

"Well, basically what Jenna says, and I agree, is that if the hubby thinks HE can be in control of anything, when it comes to sex, then instead of always being full of desire for his wife, instead of always adoring her every minute of every day, he will just think, 'Oh... I feel like getting my dick sucked.. here's my wife, she'll do it.' And then, if he gets exactly what he wants, then he'll be like, 'OK. I got my rocks off. I think I'll have a beer, and watch TV, and ignore her. What's that, honey? Why don't you make yourself useful, and go scrub the kitchen floor.'"

Davey was sort of shaking his head at this point, and when he scoffed a little, I said, "Ohhh, OK, this probably just sounds like a bunch of bullshit to you, but ... to me I think it makes perfect sense. I think Jenna is absolutely right."

" *Sigh*... Has Jenna been married?"

"That doesn't make any difference! I can tell you one thing, she's been around the block a lot more times than YOU have!"

"Yeah, I bet," he said, sarcastically.

"Oh. My. God. Did you just diss my best friend?"

"Well--"

"OK, you better just stop. Right there. You better just shut it. I *thought* you wanted to listen -- withOUT interrupting -- to hear how you might get that dick-lock off and *maybe* actually do something to please me, but--"

At this point, he almost cried, and he slunk off the couch to his knees in front of me. "I do, I do!" he said. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to... I'm, I'm... "

"You're trying to be a good boy?"

"Yes."

"Say it."

He sniveled, but said it: "I'm ... trying to be a good boy."

"Good. Let me finish, then. You can stay there, though. I like you down there, that's good. Anyway... " When he tried to put his hands on my bare legs as he looked up at me, pleadingly, I took his wrists and moved his hands aside, laying them on the sofa cushion on either side of me. "Here, just... just put those here. Anyway, Jenna and I came up with some rules for our sex life. And I think these will really, REALLY, help us. Are you ready to hear them?"

"OK."

"Are you ready to follow them?"

"Well... I ... haven't heard them yet."

I put my hand up. "Are you ready to be a good boy and follow the rules I'm about to tell you about, to make our sex life good?"

Silence.

I huffed. "OK... you know what, this is probably a good time to tell you that I left the key to your dick-lock over at Jenna's place, on purpose, for her to hold onto until you and I had this conversation."

"What!!??"

"You heard me."

"Oh my g-- ... wh.... why would you do THAT?"

"Because Jenna didn't trust me to not cave into you when you started begging, or if you started arguing, or getting all pissed off and acting like an asshole, when you heard the rules. And you haven't even heard the rules, and you're already acting like an asshole. So Jenna was ... RIGHT... AGAAAINNNN."

"Honey...." Poor Davey started rocking forward and back in exasperation. Hahaha. He didn't know what to do.

"Yes? ... 'Honey' what?"

He sat on his heels and just looked at me, pleading, and sighing. He put his head down, and shook it. Then he started to cry. Not sobbing, but tears were in his eyes. He shook his head, in total disbelief that all this was happening not even three weeks after tying the knot with the scheming, conniving bitch in front of him, who he had the lousy fortune to fall in love with. Hahaha. Ohhh. Poor Davey.

Finally, he let out a long sigh. "OK," he said. "Just tell me the rules. I'm ready to hear them."

"Uhhh, you're forgetting something. 'Just tell me the rules'? Kinda being... a little bit of a prick there, aren't you? "

"I'm sorry."

"Wanna try again?"

"OK. Please... tell me the rules. I'm ready."

"No, dumbass."

"Ugh. Honey," he whined.

"I believe what I asked you was, Are you ready to follow the rules I'm gonna set, so that we can have a good sex life in our marriage?"

"Yes. Yes."

"So *tell* me!"

"I'm ready to follow the rules you're gonna set."

"There's more," I huffed, bitchily.

"I'm ready to foll--"

"Say, 'I'm ready to be a good boy and follow all the rules you set, now and forever, for our sex life, so we can have a good marriage.'" Hahaha. I know. You noticed, too, huh? I changed the wording a little to set it up so he'd be trapped by his promise, to follow all my rules... so we can have a good *marriage*. The good sex life was really only gonna apply to me. And I was trying to lock him in, not only to the rules he was about to hear tonight, but any rules I might decide to add in the future. Hahaha. Ohhhh, I'm good. True, Jenna is an excellent teacher, but even on my own, I'm gooood.

"I'm ready... to be a good boy, and... follow all ... um...."

"The rules you set, now and forever, for our sex life, so we can have a good marriage, start over."

"I'm ready... to be a good boy and follow ... all the rules you set... now and forever, for our sex life... so we can... have a good marriage."