Her slow, deliberate approach quickly brought me back to reality. I realized again that she had put me in possibly the most vulnerable position I coul... imagine; with my legs tied tight above my head leaving all things blatantly exposed to her pleasure and my pain.She positioned herself in front of me and looked me in the eyes, "Unfortunately for you, I'm going to get right down to business...no teasing this time around, slave. I already have to piss, and I don't want to waste any time." And. I did the washing, ironing, cleaning, cooking, everything a man shouldnot do as that was a woman's job.When my wife came home I was glad to see her, but deep down I resented itbecause I could no longer be Wendy.About a month or so later, my wife asked if she could visit her auntyagain, of course, I encouraged her saying that it was so nice thatsomeone cared enough for her to visit her so often.Deep down I hated myself for all of those lies and false emotions I wasgiving out or telling, but I. " I answered."That'll have to do. Get it." he demanded.I brought it to him. He dipped his finger in it and bent me over the couch. One finger pushed at my hole and slid in, it wasn't so bad. He added the second, my hole stretched, the first feeling of discomfort. His third finger went in, I clenched and tried to stop it. He pushed harder, it went in. I yelped, the pain was there now. So was the sobriety.He worked his fingers in and out of me. I resisted as best as I could, it didn't work. I. Not a word was spoken as we made our way to a nearby elevator... this was very odd indeed. My mind naturally questioned where we were at, yet the words Cindi wrote to me soothed any fears. 'Trust it.' So I did.The elevator lowered us down for what seemed an eternity. Looking at the control panel, I was amazed to see over two dozen levels within this complex. If this was some sort of a seduction, then I was certainly not going to voice any concerns whatsoever. Yet I felt safe standing beside.