The Multi-Million Dollar Marriage


	I woke up pinned between my wife's thighs.  
Tara's arms were still bound above her head yet she 
had managed to fall asleep.  Her tits looked great, 
the sunlight was peeking trough the blinds and 
caressing her body with soft yellow light.  My cock 
stirred to life, her pussy just inches away.  I 
thought about pushing up into her and fucking her 
awake but I had a lot to do this morning.  There would 
be time enough for games later.

	Her clit was hidden behind red hair and pale 
lips.  My questing fingers found her button and gently 
rolled it with my thumb and forefinger.  Some color 
immediately came to Tara's cheeks and she moaned 
softly.  Her hips shifted to the side, a slow sensuous 
twist that excited me further.  I continued to roll 
her clit until Tara's eyes opened.  Her hazel eyes 
continued to open, first from waking up and then to 
outrage and shock.  I think she was more pissed off 
that she was enjoying it than she was at my 
manipulations.

	My hand moved away from her and she gasped as my 
fingers tugged at her clit before leaving.

	"Good, you're awake," I said.  I pulled myself 
out from under her and stood on the bed.  She was eye 
level with my cock and her cheeks flushed with more 
anger.  She suspected a blowjob, which was a good 
guess on her part.  I unfastened her cuffs and noticed 
how red her wrists were.  I would have to be easy on 
her today, no sense breaking my toy so soon.

	"Oh my God," Tara whimpered as the blood rushed 
back into her arms.

	"I'll give you ten minutes to recover and clean 
up," I said, pulling on some silk pajamas.  "Then you 
will be required in the dining room for breakfast.  
Don't be late."

	Tara grumbled something under her breath as she 
stood.  I let it slide.  That didn't mean I forgot.

	In the dining room, I read the newspaper while 
maids presented me with breakfast.  The clean up crews 
were outside the glass doors, cleaning up from 
yesterday's wedding.  Ten minutes came and passed, but 
Tara hadn't arrived.  I continued to read the 
newspaper for another six minutes before Tara finally 
showed up.  She was wearing one of my blue silk 
pajamas and had her pretty red hair tied back in a 
severe ponytail.  

	"I would have been here sooner, but I couldn't 
find my clothes, Arthur," Tara said, a hint of 
accusation in her voice.  She moved to take a seat at 
the far end of the table. 

	"Don't sit down," I snapped.  Tara stood there, 
her chin held high in defiance.

	"And don't call me Arthur.  You may address me as 
Mr. Thomas.  All of your clothes have been stored 
away, you won't be wearing them here," I said.  

	"What? You're going to buy me a new wardrobe?" 
Tara said, a nasty sarcastic edge to her voice.  She 
had already guessed.

	"No, I'll buy you a new wardrobe when you EARN 
it," I snapped.  "I'm not going to spend one cent on 
you unless you give me a good reason.  In the 
meantime, you'll go around naked until you fall in my 
good graces.  Now strip."

	"Here?" Tara said outraged.  Her hands waved out 
towards the maids.

	"Right here," I said.  I drank some juice.  "I 
don't want to remind you of your contract every time I 
give you an order.  You have till the count of ten to 
disrobe or I'll annul the marriage right now."  There 
was a reason for the phone by my side.

	Tara just glared at me, her fists clenched by her 
side.  She knew she was beaten but the woman was so 
stubborn.  It was going to be a fun day.

	"Ingrid, count to ten for me please," I said to 
the blonde maid.  Ingrid smiled, and began.

	"One," she said in her cute Swedish accent.

	Tara's nostrils were flaring beautifully.

	"Two," Ingrid said.

	Tara growled and started popping the buttons on 
my pajama shirt.  One of my buttons made a nasty 
skidding sound as it slid across the floor.  I'll have 
to deduct it from her allowance.  

	"Three," Ingrid said and Olivia beside her 
started to giggle.

	Tara ripped the shirt open, flashing me with her 
lovely 37 breasts.  They jiggled with invitation as 
she threw her shirt down to the ground.  She quickly 
pulled her pants down, revealing a pair of my 
underwear.  Then she stepped out of my pants and very 
deliberately kicked them towards Ingrid.  She looked 
good in simple white briefs, but it had to go too.

	"The underwear too," I said, and Ingrid said 
"Four!"

	"There's people outside," Tara complained.  "You 
want just anybody to see your wife naked?"

	"Five," Ingrid said.  She was a good maid.

	"What, do you consider yourself something 
special?" I asked.  "I have maids walk around naked 
all the time.  If I want my whore to be nude too, 
what's the difference?"

	"Six," Ingrid said.

	"Fuck you," Tara snarled and she pulled her 
underwear down.  Her bush was wet, probably from 
washing to erase last night's events.  Tara bent over 
quickly to minimize the time I could appreciate her 
nice round ass.  My wife could be a bitch sometimes, 
but now she was a nude bitch.  When Tara rose, she 
glared at Ingrid who stopped counting.

	"There, you happy, Mr. Thomas?" Tara demanded.  I 
liked how she added Mr. Thomas like an insult.  I 
ignored her and ate another piece of toast.  She 
snorted when she realized I wasn't to be baited.  
"Where's my breakfast?" she asked as she sat down.  
Tara crossed her arms over her breasts, trying in vain 
to conceal such large perfection.

	"Over here," I said, pointing to beside me on the 
floor.  There were two large stainless steel bowls.  
One had oatmeal, and the other had water.

	"You are out of your fucking mind," Tara said.  
"I'm not eating from the floor like a dog."

	I accepted that.  "Then you don't need breakfast.  
We can call in Mr. Page and get you outfitted.  
Ingrid, go bring him in." 

	Tara remained silent as Ingrid left and brought 
in Mr. Page.  She turned her head from the old man 
when he walked in and she pushed her seat closer to 
the table to conceal herself for his gaze.  I stood up 
and greeted the man warmly.  He has done quite a bit 
of work for me and never once brought up the question 
of how the items were used.  He was a professional.

	"Tara, you'll need to stand up," I instructed as 
Mr. Page opened his briefcase on the table.  

	Tara glared at me but she stood.  She kicked her 
chair back and walked over to me.  One arm held her 
breasts while the other tried to cover her sex.  
Modesty and arrogance make for a sexy combination.  
She would have looked demure if it weren't for the 
indignation in her eyes.

	Mr. Page presented his work for my approval.  I 
took the belt in my hands and whistled.  It was 
excellent craftsmanship, once again.  It weighed less 
than a pound yet was made of stainless steel.  It was 
flexible enough to enclose a waist without the need of 
hinges, but firm enough to be impossible to remove.  
The crotch guard was the true beauty though.  The 
crotch guard was shaped and contoured to fit the 
genital area and stops just short of the anus where it 
terminates in two flat section steel chains.  To 
permit defecation, the chains form a 'Y' configuration 
over the buttocks, connecting to the waistband where 
they are riveted.

	"Tara, put this on so I can see if it works," I 
instructed.

	"What is it?" Tara asked.  

	"A chastity belt of course," I said.  "An 
investment must be protected."

	Tara's eyes became so huge, I wish I had my 
camera.

	"I didn't bother for the ass guard because you 
would have had to clean it," I explained.  "Besides, 
if you're enough of a slut to give someone your ass, 
then that's your problem.  I just want to make sure 
any children I have are mine."  

	"Now hurry up," I instructed.  "Mr. Page needs to 
see if those measurements your mom gave us were 
accurate.  If they're not, wearing it can be very 
painful."

	"My mom took measurements for this?" Tara asked, 
disbelief written on her face.

	"Of course, it's unlucky for me to have seen the 
bride," I explain.  "Now put it on."

	With the maids watching, and Mr. page watching 
with an amused smile, Tara put the chastity belt on.  
The belt snapped firmly around her waist and I admired 
the mirror like steel around her fit waist.  The 
chains in the back hugged her ass so much I wanted to 
take a bite right there.  Tara had a bit of trouble 
with the crotch guard.

	"What am I supposed to do with this?" she asked.  
She was pointing to the narrow slot on her crotch 
guard.

	"Oh, you just push your labia lips through 
there," Mr. Page instructed.  He put his hands on her 
hips and tugged the waistband shut, snapping the belt 
locked.  Her labia lips were crushed against the slit 
but they fell out on their own.  Her clit was covered 
and from the size of the slit, I doubt she could even 
get a finger in there.  It was perfect.

	"Tell me about the lock," I asked.

	"The lock can be opened with this key," he handed 
me a beautiful silver key.  "I also put a bell on the 
waistband like you asked.  It's triggered by a pager 
and has a considerable range."

	"Excellent," I said, taking the pager from him.  
I activated it and smiled as the tiny bell rang on 
Tara's hips.  The bell was loud and the maids jumped 
at the volume.  Tara looked down at the nagging bell 
and I could see her temper snapping before my eyes.  
It was perfect.

	"Thank you Mr. Page, excellent work as always," I 
said.  I had Ingrid escort him out, knowing the old 
man liked to cop a feel on my blonde maids.  Who said 
I wasn't a nice guy?

	"Have a good morning, Tara," I said.  "I have 
some work to do.  If your bell rings, you are to come 
to me as soon as possible.  Don't make me punish you 
for being tardy."

	"You're leaving me like this?" Tara said in 
disbelief.  She was still covering her breasts.  "I 
thought you would do something with me today."

	I laughed.  "Really, Tara?  Do you consider 
yourself so special that I'll just fuck you all day 
long?  Please, I do have a life.  You are not the 
center of my universe, I do have other interests."

	Tara was probably most stunned by this than 
anything else.  "What am I supposed to do all day?" 
she whined.

	"In about two hours, you will report to my 
workout room.  Under the guidance of my trainer, 
you'll do a two-hour routine.  I will not tolerate an 
obese wife.  From there, you can do whatever you 
please.  You just can't leave the grounds and you can 
have anything to eat till you have lunch with me."

	"Stay here?" Tara sneered.  "I wanted to go 
shopping today and decorate my bedroom.  You promised 
to provide me with a monthly spending allowance."

	I laughed.  "Tough shit.  You don't get a cent of 
your allowance until your time off.  If you remember, 
your contract that your parents negotiated specify 
that you get four days off a month.  The way I see it, 
you can spend your money any way you want then.  If 
you spend it while with me, it'll be too distracting."

	"What about clothes?" Tara demanded again.  This 
was getting old.

	"We'll talk about it later, I have work to do," I 
said.  I left her in the dining room and headed to the 
comfort of my study.  For all I knew, she was still 
standing there gaping when I shut the door.  That 
wouldn't last long; she had her workout in just a few 
minutes.

	It was true that I had a lot of work to do.  
Although there was a contract between myself and 
Tara's parents that detailed how much money of mine 
was going where, the actual transferring required 
actions on my part.  I did this so I could change my 
mind after the wedding night.  You never know when 
someone might try a bait and switch.  Tara could have 
been twenty pounds heavier than her pictures, or a 
complete incompetent at oral sex.  I don't throw 
millions away without assurance that what I bought was 
worth it.

	After a short period of consideration, I decided 
to allow the transfer of funds.  I think it was the 
total power that appealed to me.  When I bribed 
strangers to perform sex, it was a game of how cheaply 
could I make someone compromise their principles.  
With my employees, it was a game of how much abuse 
could I push someone who was trying to keep their job.  
But a wife was a new power trip.  Tara knew she could 
leave at any time if she was only willing to plunge 
her family back into bankruptcy.  A bankruptcy she 
would have to suffer as well.  I wondered how long 
could I enjoy her before she inevitably snapped.  I 
found myself looking forward to finding out.

	All of the transactions were done within two 
hours.  The total cost still staggered me sometimes.  
Half my wealth for one slut didn't seem right.  Since 
Tara's brutal exercise program was nearly done for the 
day, I opted to see if my slut was worth what she 
cost.  I pressed my pager to activate her chastity 
belt bell.

	I leaned back in my chair, trying to hear her 
little bell.  I can imagine her frustration at having 
the bell ring so soon after being exhausted by her 
required workout.  The humiliation of running through 
my mansion, topless and with the incessant ringing 
must make her wonder if this marriage would be 
bearable.  My staff would laugh if not heckle her as 
she runs, amused that someone else is being the center 
of embarrassment.

	The bell was audible through my study doors as 
Tara ran closer and closer.  When she burst through my 
door, she was gasping for breath.  Coated in a sheen 
of sweat, her breasts were magnificent as they heaved 
with her rapid breaths.  The bell continued it's 
nagging ring, admonishing Tara to come to me.

	"Turn this bell off!" Tara demanded.

	"Turn this bell off, what?" I asked.

	Tara's face was beet red from her exertions but I 
detected more color as her jaw set defiantly.

	"Turn this bell off, Mr. Thomas," Tara asked with 
not a trace of meekness.

	I did as she asked and the bell was silent.  
"Come over here," I told her, beckoning her with my 
finger.

	Tara walked over to me, slowly from the aches of 
her body.  I knew the workout was punishing, I had 
designed it myself.  From the slow way that she 
walked, I could tell that she had received the full 
body treatment that I desired.  Some men might 
tolerate fat wives but mine was going to be in better 
shape then she was before the marriage.

	My wife stood in front of me while I sat.  Her 
hazel eyes were thin slits and she bit her bottom lip.  
She was already imagining terrible acts of possession.  
The diamond choker sparkled against her pale skin and 
the sweat on her skin enhanced her steel chastity 
belt.  I reached up and slipped my finger under the 
handy ring of her choker and ruthlessly dragged her 
head down so that she was bending over me.

	With her tits now hanging like ripe fruit from 
her body, I took a pale nipple into my mouth.  I 
sucked the sweat from her nipple and flicked the soft 
flesh with my tongue.  Tara shuddered at my touch, 
jiggling her breast in my mouth.  I turned my 
attention to her other breast and suckled loudly at 
the sweat there.  Her tit was salty and her nipple 
hardened from my sucking.  Tara's breathing increased 
as my mouth ravished her full breasts but she knew 
better than to protest.

	As soon as a single sigh escaped her lips, I 
stopped my oral attentions.

	"That is enough, you may go now," I commanded.

	"What?" Tara asked, dazed.  Her nipples were now 
shiny from my licking and as hard as my cock.

	"I said you may go, that was all I wanted," I 
answered.  

	Confusion, anger and embarrassment flashed across 
her face simultaneously.  I knew she wanted more but 
Tara was too proud to ask for it.  The desire was 
evident in the awkward way her hips swung, in the 
color that was spreading from her cheeks to her 
freckled chest and from the way she kept licking her 
lips.  If she wasn't honest enough to ask for it, I 
wasn't going to do it for her.  I banished her from my 
study without a second glance.

	Later, I went to the dining room for lunch.  Tara 
was already there, sitting at the table and covering 
her breasts.  I wondered how many weeks she would try 
to be modest.  I also wondered why she bothered to sit 
down.

	"Tara, get out of that chair," I commanded.  "If 
you are going to eat, it'll be on the floor."

	Lunch consisted of soup for myself and a salad 
for Tara.  The salad was placed on the floor beside me 
and Tara looked with longing at the food.  After her 
workout and no breakfast I imagine she must have been 
starving.

	"What did you do today?" I asked.

	"Nothing!" Tara snapped.  "None of the phones 
worked, and I couldn't get any of the televisions to 
work either.  There's nothing to do here.  I couldn't 
even find a magazine to read."

	"The phones and televisions require a user code 
to operate," I explained.  "I don't like my employees 
to goof off.  As for magazines, they are wastes of 
paper.  There are plenty of books in the library."

	"Books," Tara said with disgust.  "What is the 
code for the televisions?"

	I looked at her with amusement.  "Maybe if I know 
you're at least eating I would be willing to tell 
you," I said.  "Go ahead, I even made sure they used 
your favorite salad dressing."

	Tara closed her eyes and came to a decision.  
Slowly, she dropped down to her knees and lowered 
herself to the large salad bowl.  She had her back to 
the standing maids but their presence wasn't easy to 
ignore.  Especially when they giggled at her kneeling.  
Tara picked up a piece of lettuce with her hand and I 
admonished her.

	"No hands," I said.  "Eating with your hands is 
unhygienic," I said.

	Tara glared at me, which wasn't very threatening 
from her kneeling position.  She placed her hands flat 
on the floor and dipped down to eat her salad.  When 
her breasts touched the cold tiles she jumped, but her 
hunger was too intense.  Tara ate greedily from the 
bowl.  Her ass was higher than her head, looking so 
inviting as she ate.  

	I don't know what it was about her that turned me 
so much.  Maybe it was the thought of this once 
wealthy bitch now having to eat from a bowl on the 
floor.  Perhaps I was attracted to her pale skin 
dotted with freckles on such a young healthy body.  
There was a water bowl as well and you can not imagine 
how sensual she looked when she lapped water from her 
bowl with her pink tongue.  I knew I had to have my 
wife right now.

	I waited till lunch was over and watched with 
satisfaction, as Tara had to resort to licking the 
bowl in order to get the last bits of her salad.  She 
tried to act nonchalant but the way her eyes kept 
clenching told me she was mortified by her position.

	"Tara, I want that mouth of yours," I said and 
she froze in her eating.  She started to rise but I 
held my hand up.

	"No, you stay right there," I said.  Slipping my 
slippers off, I presented my left foot to her.  "Suck 
my toes, wife, and do a good job."

	"I . . ." Tara said, speechless.

	"I gave you an order," I said.  "I haven't had a 
reason to punish you yet.  Are you willing to see what 
I consider a suitable punishment?"

	"No," Tara said, setting her jaw.  "No, Mr. 
Thomas," she amended.  

	Tara crawled over on her hands and knees, pure 
outraged outlined on her face.  Her mouth opened once, 
twice as she tried to think her way out of this.  Her 
mouth opened a third time and I thrust my foot 
forward.  My big toe slipped between her lips and Tara 
reluctantly closed her mouth around my toe.  

	"There you go slut," I said.  "But suck a little 
harder, I want to see those cheeks cave in."

	My maids giggled and Tara froze, the laughter 
washing over her worse than any punishment I could 
devise.  She started sucking my toe though, and her 
cheeks did suck in as I asked.

	"Don't forget your tongue, Tara," I corrected and 
the maids laughed harder.  Timidly, I felt Tara lick 
my toe.  "Harder Tara.  Use the enthusiasm you used 
when you sucked my cock last night."  Tara's cheeks 
flushed with embarrassment as the maids laughed 
harder.

	"Now, to another toe," I commanded and Tara 
stopped to glare at me.  Before I could urge her, she 
went on to my middle toe and began sucking it.  Her 
tongue lapped over me reluctantly but she looked so 
sexy doing it.  

	Her breasts were hanging attractively while she 
sucked so I slipped my other foot free.  With my free 
foot, I pinched one of her nipples between my first 
and second toe.  She gasped as I pinched her nipple 
but she continued sucking.  I didn't have much 
manipulation with my toes, but the important thing was 
that I was fondling her with my foot.  The haughty 
princess never imagined that she would be sucking a 
man's toes much less having him put his feet on her 
bosom.  Occasionally she would pause in her sucking; 
no doubt overwhelmed by the humiliation she was 
experiencing.

	"You are a good toe sucker," I said.  "You must 
have done this before.  Now lick my entire foot, 
slut."

	Tara paused and winced as my toes tightened 
around her tit.  Even with my foot I could tell her 
nipple was hard.  That was when I noticed a certain 
odor.

	"Are you actually getting turned on by this, 
slut?" I asked Tara and the maids gasped with shock.  
She tried to avoid answering by licking my foot with 
long swipes of her pink tongue.  Tara's red face was 
all the answer I needed.

	"I wonder if it's the abuse you crave, or if it's 
the complete lack of power," I mused.  I shrugged.  
"It doesn't matter.  It's enough that you are such a 
good foot licker.  Try to add a few more kisses 
though, I like the feel of your lips."

	Tara growled but wisely held her tongue.  She was 
a good foot licker.  It was the frequent hesitations 
that made it sexy.  When her tongue licked my ankle, 
she would pause, as she would reflect on how degrading 
this was.  I especially enjoyed how her eyes would 
flicker up at me, loathing and anger in those hazel 
daggers.  No matter how much she despised me, she kept 
licking my foot to insure her family's fortune.  

	It was too arousing.  I reached into my silk 
pajamas and pulled my hard cock out.  Tara stopped in 
her licking, perhaps to eager to win my approval with 
a little oral attention elsewhere but my toes 
tightened around her nipple and she cried out.  She 
returned to licking my foot and I released the 
pressure on her nipple.  Her ass weaved as her head 
kept ducking down to lick another part of my foot.  I 
liked her right where she was.

	I masturbated myself and I could see Tara's 
uncertainty.  That was good.  I didn't want her to 
ever know what was to happen next.  Tomorrow I might 
fuck her ass or those lovely tits but for today, I 
just wanted to watch this snob lick my feet.  Today, I 
enjoyed watching those angry lips as they wrap around 
the littlest of my toes. 

	Tara's tongue was in full display when I felt my 
climax coming.  She was licking me from toes to ankle 
and I felt my cock surge with my orgasm.  I groaned as 
my cock released it's load, a white stream of cum that 
arced down towards Tara.  I released my grip on her 
nipple so I could stand over Tara.  As she kept 
sucking obediently at my foot, I emptied stream after 
stream onto her kneeling body.  My cum splashed all 
over her hair, her face and onto my foot. 

	"Be sure to clean my foot," I instructed and Tara 
did as I said.  Her eyes were completely enflamed now, 
angry and hateful but still her pink tongue licked the 
white cream from my foot.  Only when my foot was clean 
of any cum did I pull my foot away.

	"Stand up," I want to check something.  

	Tara quickly stood up, wiping a strand of sticky 
cum from her cheek.  She missed one nice little string 
that was on her forehead not to mention the white 
clumps in her beautiful red hair.  I ignored the fury 
that was emanating from her and I selected a spoon 
from the table.  Handle first, I inserted the spoon 
through the slender metal slot of her chastity belt 
and into her sex.  Tara moaned at the intrusion but it 
was a whimper at the lack of significant penetration.  
I removed the handle and held it up for her.

	"I can't believe you got off on that," I said.  
The handle was slick with her pent up desire.  "My 
wife is more of a slut than I bargained for."

	"You are such an asshole," Tara said, barely a 
whisper.

	"You are such an asshole, Mr. Thomas," I 
corrected.  "Just for that, I'm not going to let you 
masturbate like I had planned.  I'm leaving now to 
play some golf.  Make sure you are cleaned up before I 
get back tonight.  I prefer my toys to be clean when I 
use them again."

	If looks had any sort of power, Tara's furious 
stare would have made her a widow.  Despite her 
murderous desires, she was clean when I did get home.