The Date - A Skinowner Tale

Today is The Day as it is every year, our wedding anniversary. Our special day. I left the office a bit early for our date and headed off to the usual hotel where I had checked in this morning on the way to work and left my luggage. I shower and shave, put my suit and tie on and head home. Soon I walk in she come running, or should I say walking a fast pace. She’s as beautiful as she was on that day. The wedding gown still fits her. Her hair is changed. She cannot have the style she had those years ago now after she cut it short as I wanted her to. Her smile, even after all this time, still makes me think I’m the luckiest man alive.

“Hello”, she says.

I slap her hard, turning her face. I grab her hair, pulling her down and slap her again. Her eyes look up at me, supplicating needily. I spit and drag her to the table. My dinner is waiting for me. The plate is inviting, the eyes being the first to feast on the meal. I sit down and start eating. It tastes as good as it looked. She had told me she had something new prepared for the day and that I would like it. She knows me well. Occasionally I take a mouthful of chewed food and shove it in her mouth. I eat a bit more than half then I chop and slice the rest, mash it together and pour over some water and spit as I lower the plate the floor. I push her head down to it, putting a foot on it so she cannot move up. When she’s down I tell her to stay there. I walk behind her and lift the dress up enough until I can put in my hand and shove two fingers in. Wet. “Go do the dishes”, I tell her as I pull her up by her hair. As she is working I put a record on, our favorite, pour myself a brandy and sit on the sofa.

“You’re done yet?”, I asked after a while.

No response.

I walk to the kitchen and see her wiping the last items and putting them in place. I kick her and slap her again. “I asked if you’re done!”

“Sorry sir. I did not hear you. I’m do….”

Slapped her again.

As I’m walking out of the kitchen I hear the utensil drawer closing and her footsteps following me. I turned and grabbed her hair causing her to let out a sigh. I take her to the shower, pull her to the floor and piss on her. “Clean”, I said presenting her the tip of my penis still dripping the final drops of piss. She obeys. After a few seconds I pull it out. I go to the bedroom and fetch the cuffs for her hands and legs which then I bind her in. As I am standing up I slap her again walk out.

I go back to the hotel. At the bar I see her, my date. We met online a week ago. Actually my wife met her online a week ago and did the chatting and banter as me. Three days ago as we got in bed she picked her phone and told she had my anniversary gift. Passing me the phone to browse the profile and read their chat, she went down.

I slept in a bit in the morning then went down for breakfast, checked out and went home. She was where I had left, as I had left her. She looked tired but still managed that magical smile. I undid the cuffs, helped her up, out of the dress and back into the shower were I joined her a few seconds later.

After we were done we picked up the dress and I drove her to the dry cleaner’s. It will be ready in a few days and then we’ll see next year if it will still fit.