Stronger Than Marriage
© S.B. 2025 All Rights Reserved.
Reproduction and distribution of this writing without the author’s written permission is prohibited. This writing is not to be included in any publication – free or otherwise -, except the author’s self-published works.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All the characters are over 18.
Princess Theresa pushed the thick flesh-colored dildo inside Arthur’s ass as the mid-forties businessman squirmed and bit his tongue. The petite redhead had never been a nice woman, but she was feeling quite sadistic that day, and he had no choice but to endure.
Standing by the bed where his sodomization was taking place, was Beverly, his wife, always amused when he suffered for the Princess.
Beverly and Arthur were slaves, dutiful toys to a bratty woman twenty years younger. She had been the one to introduce her husband to the joyful – but often painful – world of BDSM, and also the first to succumb to the Princess’s desires. The dominant woman’s will had burrowed inside her submissive brain like a parasitic worm, rendering Beverly always horny and obedient in Her Royal Presence. The Princess knew what she liked and abhorred the sound of the word “no”. Anyone who orbited her world for long would always get pulled into it. It was as inevitable as the rain.
If anyone asked them what they did for their owner, the answer was… everything. They cleaned the house; they did the shopping; they entertained her dominant friends; they took care of Princess’s dogs when she went on slave-funded trips all over the world… and so many other things, too many to number. They were happy to serve and free her from the responsibilities of mundane life.
Princess Theresa was a tough cookie. Her commands had to be followed to the letter, and she punished disobedience harshly. Arthur had learned that lesson the hard way when he addressed Her Highness without permission. He still shuddered at the memory, but the pain in his ass, courtesy of the dildo pumping in and out of his rectum, brought him back to the present.
Beverly was no exception either, and her ass was adorned with scars and bruises that told tales of their own. Her Highness loved having complete control over her two puppets. Seeing how they jumped through hoops for her amusement never stopped making her laugh. It was good to be in charge.
“Take it, slut. Take it all for me,” she declared, pounding Arthur’s weak flesh without remorse. There was no underlying reason for her behavior other than the pursuit of pleasure. She used her toys as she pleased, often reinforcing their subservience and commitment with intense brainwashing sessions.
Arthur remained on his hands and knees on top of the red satin quilt, doing what he could to ignore the discomfort. His mind took refuge in the Princess’s sacred mantras, words so beautiful that they were proof of the Divine. Clicking his tongue, he repeated them without complaint.
“Princess Theresa, Your Highness, A thousand praises upon your exalted name. You, who rules us with an iron fist and a velvet touch. We are but worms before your brilliance, unworthy of licking the dirt from your heels. Your beauty is unmatched, your power is absolute, and your wisdom is without equal…”
The mantra continued, each syllable sealing his fate as a devoted worshipper of her divine form. The more he chanted, the more submissive Arthur became, the pain fading into the background. His entire existence was reduced to one goal: to please Princess Theresa in any way she saw fit.
Other mantras came into play, simpler sentences and easier to memorize, but equally powerful and overwhelming.
“I am her property,” he mumbled, clenching his teeth as the dildo invaded him even further. “She owns me, body and soul.”
Beverly took a step forward and added her voice to his. “She is my life’s purpose. I live for her pleasure, and hers alone.”
The repetitions continued, echoing in the bedroom. Arthur moaned not just from the physical intrusion but also from the ecstasy that flowed through him every time he thought of his Mistress’s wrathful, yet loving gaze while Beverly wished she was in the place, being the recipient of such a boon.
At last, Princess Theresa pulled out the dildo, wiping it with a cloth held by Beverly before discarding it on the bed. The couple kneeled before their ruler as she paced around them naked save for a tiny G-string that left nothing to the imagination. Beverly licked her lips as she stared into her delicious pussy, a perfect display of feminity and power. “I’m always under Princess,” she said, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head, drowning in bliss.
“I know what you want, slut, but you’re on ass duty today,” the Princess commanded. “As for you, Arthur, you’ll lick my feet until I tell you to stop.”
“Yes, Princess,” they said in unison, bound by unconditional love. There was a bond stronger than marriage and it was servitude to Princess Theresa. Mindfucked today, mindfucked tomorrow, mindfucked forever. Perfect!
THE END
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