No one looking at me, a plain Jane with mousy brown hair, wearing a thick sweater, a calf length plaid skirt, boots, black rimmed glasses, perusing the library, would think that I am anything other than I appear to be, a nobody. No one sees me, really, and I love that.

They would be wrong. I like them being wrong. What Mister and I do, what I do in my private life is absolutely no one else’s concern. I prefer blending into the scenery, going unnoticed. I want no attention brought upon me.

Mister, at first, tried to gently push me out of my shell, but I wasn’t budging, so eventually he relented and now sees the appeal of the public wallflower being a secret vixen on the home front.

I grab my volumes and head for a secluded study carrel. I wince then smile as I feel the sting of the cane marks on my bottom, which is covered only by the soft skirt. Mister does not care for underclothing unless he has chosen it, so I don’t wear panties or bras anymore. This isn’t a problem since I’m small breasted and no longer have periods.

I twist my torso a bit and feel the slight tug of Mister’s dried semen clutching the fine hairs on my belly. I press a hand against the spot, closing my eyes and remembering the hot spurts of ropy cum he shot onto my skin two hours ago.

I again focus on my research. Mister has decreed that until I finish taking notes on these two books for his next lecture and possible publication before going home to shower and prepare for him.

Yes, Mister is a professor and I am his research assistant. To be perfectly clear, I was his wife/submissive long before I became his research assistant. I am also 35 years old, so nothing underhanded or coercive happened. I was never in his class. Further, I adore the quiet of a library and enjoy researching. It was my suggestion that I take on this role.

After five hours, I finish up and place the books back on the cart to be re-shelved. I hate driving, so I catch the local bus. I glance around at the uninterested faces nervously, but no one gives me a second look. I breathe with relief. My nipples brush against the rough wool of my sweater with every bump on the road causing them to harden. Just a few more hours and Mister can see to them properly.

When I get home, I leave my notes on his desk, opening them to the newest additions. Yes, I still write notes by hand. Next, I go to our bedroom and strip out of my clothes, hanging up the skirt and placing the sweater in my bag for hand washing. Then, I step into the shower.

First, I insert the flexible tube of the shower enema. Once my belly begins to swell slightly, I remove the tube and insert a lubricated plug. I scrub my body, shave my legs, pits, and pubic area, then wash my hair. I towel off, slather my body in lotion, comb out my hair, and blow dry it. My bowels are cramping, but I cannot release until I finish my hair.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I evacuate. Mister likes to have my entire body clean. I only perform the enema ritual once a week and only with clean water. Anything else that goes into my rectum will be decided by Mister.

I head to the kitchen and put on an apron that covers the entire front of my body. Mister requires that I be nude when he arrives home, but allows for the apron for safety reasons. I fix a simple dinner of oven roasted chicken breasts along with diced potatoes and carrots. I’m taking it out of the oven when Mister arrives home.

He waits until I set the sheet pan on top of the stove before he runs his hand over my fading welts from this morning’s caning session, kisses my neck, and inserts a finger gently into my anus.

“You’re such a good wife,” he murmurs, and I practically purr.

I plate the food, remove the apron, and we sit at the table to enjoy the meal. Once completed, I clean up the kitchen.

“Do the welts still pain you?” he asks.

“Not at all, Mister. I feel them, certainly, but they aren’t painful in the least. You’re very skilled with the cane.”

“Good. When you finish, head up to bed. I have plans for you.”

My nipples harden, and I get wet with those words.

Once in our room, I’m not exactly sure what position he will prefer, but since today is Thursday and he’s already marked my ass with five stripes, I set up the wedge pillow and position myself over it, ass in the air.

I’ve made the correct decision. He comes into the room and says, “Excellent. I love how you know what I want.”

He spreads my elevated cheeks and inserts lubricant into my anus. He then uses his mouth to suck my clit until I come and uses his fingers to fuck my pussy. Only after I’ve come multiple times does he climb between my legs.

Slowly, he inserts his cock into my slick anus. I moan with pleasure. I both love and hate when he goes this slowly. I WANT to feel his girth and length inside of me!!! However, I also ADORE feeling every millimeter of his large cock as my body widens and welcomes him. He again runs his hand over my stripes.

“These are lovely. I was concerned I’d been too heavy handed this morning. But no, your skin is perfect,” he whispers.

Finally, he’s balls deep inside of me. I come again.

He begins to fuck me. I’m lost to him. He speaks quietly as he thrusts into me. I’m lost to his words.

“You love being fucked like this, don’t you.”

yes

“You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come today?”

i have

“You’re supposed to keep track, aren’t you?”

i am

He begins to slap my ass. I come.

“You wanted this punishment, didn’t you?”

i did, yes, Mister.

“Then you shall have it.”

He stays deep inside of me while he spanks my already marked ass. I come.

thank you, Mister. thank you.

He continues to fuck me until his breathing becomes raspy. I hear him growl with pleasure, push deeply inside of me, and for the second time today, release his seed.

I am a plain Jane, yes, but I am also a very satisfied sex vixen wife.