My Wife Is One In A Million

First met the lady through a dating organization, - found her to be ten years my senior, a mental-health professional, and exuding power, self-assurance, and a completely open mind. She was homely in appearance, but soon proved to have an iron will and be a complete "control freak" who unusually, in my experience at the time, responded to my 'deal breaker' observation that I loved (a) powerful women, and (b) rubber bondage, by saying amiably "That sounds SO cool -and SO intriguing..."

I married her in a matter of weeks, and have spent every non-work hour, including weekends and holidays or vacations, trapped inescapably in a strong rubberized canvas bondage bag, with removable access to what she calls the only two parts of the male anatomy, of any use to a real woman.

She laughs delightedly at what she loosely calls 'making love to a olive-drab body-bag with a useful-sized protrusion, at each end" and makes use of both, very regularly. I turn over my entire paycheck, and the house, the bank accounts, and the cars are all solely in her name. "Financial bondage" she calls it, and just loves having a "warm body" close by, in enforced silence, while she sews, crafts, and reads dry history tomes, while I wallow in sweat, in the airtight, watertight rubber, grateful for occasional hydration and V.... to keep me in a " useful" condition...

It's been fifteen glorious years of absolute submission, and I love her obsessively, knowing that soon I will take early retirement, and disappear from the world, while obsessively taking care of her constant gratification, which has never slackened over the years.