Slave Wife

By Becca Brat

She was raised to be strong and independent, never giving up control to anyone.
That is, until he showed her just how exhilarating total submission can feel... Even if it means degrading herself in ways she never imagined.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Salacious Stories
• Release date: Mar 27, 2023

Book preview

Chapter 1: An Unhappy Couple

You're such an asshole! Elizabeth screamed at her husband as he stalked out the front door, slamming it shut hard enough rattle the frosted panes of glass on either side of the door frame. The silence fell around her, thick and crackling with the simmering anger left over from their latest fight. Elizabeth let out a frustrated scream towards the closed door, throwing a balled up pair of socks in the same direction. The motion was thoroughly unsatisfying, and for a wild moment, she glanced around the room, searching for something heavier to throw that wouldn't make a mess. Nothing seemed appropriate enough for the job, and she blew a wayward strand of chestnut brown hair out of her face with an ungratified sigh.

The fight with Edward had been intense. Her slender body was shaking with nerves and raw anger. Why can't he understand what I'm telling him, she wondered, what words would make him understand how much I hate my life now? Her trembling hands tightened around the edge of the laundry basket as his remembered words flittered through her mind.

You have it all, Elizabeth! You don't have to do anything but keep up the house.

I'm the one with all the stress. I'm carrying everything on my shoulders!

It's like I barely know you anymore. You never used to be such a bitch to me!

She scowled, the resentful expression narrowing her cerulean blue eyes, and she released her grip on the laundry basket. Her hands ached from how tightly she had been holding onto it and she flexed them for a moment before picking up a clean shirt from the top of the pile. She began to fold it automatically as she recalled her responses, some of which had been practically hissed through clenched teeth.

I hate being here all the time, while you get to come and go at whatever hour pleases you, Edward!

I don't think you give a shit about how I feel. All you care about is whether your meals are warm, if your shirts are perfectly fucking ironed, and you have a hole or two to fuck at night...that's IF you even care about having sex anymore!

Had it all been a mistake? Should she really have quit her job and let Edward be the sole breadwinner? What the hell had happened to their marriage since they made the decision for her to stay at home? Elizabeth sighed softly and tugged her sloppy ponytail tight again. She glanced down at her stained shirt and ratty college sweatpants. When they had started dating right after college graduation, those sweatpants barely ever saw the light of day. She had loved getting dressed up in a tarty little outfit and doing her hair and makeup for Edward back then. She took a rueful look at her hands, noting the shredded cuticles and uneven length of her nails. She hadn't bothered much with her appearance in the last few years, since the only people who really ever saw her anymore were the grocery store patrons and the nosy neighbors in their little suburb community. Elizabeth pondered that thought for a few minutes, wondering if she had let her appearance go just to spite Edward. Serves that asshat right for always staying late at work, she grumbled under her breath as she finished folding the last of the clothes in the basket and rose to put them away.

She caught her reflection in the hallway mirror and inwardly flinched at the image of the frazzled housewife stared back at her with eyes as blue as gaslight, untidy hair falling out of the ponytail in wisps that annoyed her all the time. She frowned, leaning closer as she studied the tiny lines between her eyebrows that were becoming more permanent by the day. I really have let myself go, she thought. I look like a damn harpy. No wonder he always comes home late and works all weekend long. He never wants to be here with me. I'm going to end up losing him if I don't figure out how to pull my shit together.

She shook her head as if to rid herself of that horrible thought, and walked away from the scold in the mirror, entering their bedroom. Or at least, her bedroom now, she supposed. Edward had been sleeping in the guest room for months, and there was no sign of that changing any time soon. Between that and all the late nights and weekends he was putting in at work as a real estate developer, they rarely saw each other for more than an hour or so a day. When they did see each other, there was always an inevitable fight. The lack of sex. Wrinkles in his ironed shirt. His late hours. Constant nagging. Her parents always interjecting their unwanted opinions. It seemed they fought about any and every subject more than they talked. There were occasionally peaceful moments, but they had become more and more rare as Elizabeth grew increasingly resentful of her role in their marriage, and Edward had become distant and less communicative in response to her provocations and verbal barbs.

Lost in her thoughts, she put away the clean clothes on autopilot. As she tucked her panties away in the drawer, she caught sight of a bit of black lace that adorned some frilly piece of seductive lingerie. She contemplated the fabric, entertaining for a second the idea of putting it on and meeting him at the door. The thought was rejected almost as quickly as it had formed. There was nothing wrong with her sex drive; if anything, it was far more voracious than most women she knew. And sex with Edward was amazing. At least, it used to be amazing. Nowadays, it was a few kisses, him fiddling with her pierced clit hood and the tiny nub under it for a minute until he got hard, then a few mundane minutes of missionary thrusting during which she made the requisite sounds until he orgasmed with a loud grunt. It was less than thrilling and Elizabeth would often find herself mid-day, naked on her bed, watching porn and getting herself off so many times that her arms and pussy would ache for hours afterwards.

She sat down on the bed, her expression clouding with a sudden longing for the intimacy they once shared. The yearning for her husband's touch on her skin was sharp in its intensity, and she shied