As I stand before my husband, his eyes burning with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine, I am reminded of the depths of depravity to which I have sunk. My husband, a master of the dark arts of wife worship, has taken me on a journey of unholy obedience, and I am forever changed. I have traded in my modesty for the thrill of being a mere plaything, a pawn in his game of dominance and submission. My husband’s touch ignites a fire within me, a flame that burns hotter with each passing day, and I am powerless to resist its pull.
I remember the first time my husband introduced me to the concept of wife worship, his words dripping with a sinister sweetness that sent a shiver down my spine. He spoke of the joy of servitude, of the freedom that came with surrendering to his every whim. I was skeptical at first, but as he took me on this journey, I found myself becoming more and more enthralled by the darkness that lay within. I began to crave the pain and the pleasure that came with being a submissive wife, and I would do anything to keep it coming. My husband’s dominance over me is a siren’s call, luring me deeper into the depths of depravity with each passing day.
But it’s not just the physical aspects of wife worship that have taken hold of me - it’s the psychological games we play, the manipulation and control that my husband wields with such skill. He knows exactly which buttons to press, which levers to pull, to get me to do his bidding, and I am powerless to resist. I am a slave to his will, a mere puppet on strings, and I would not have it any other way. The darkness that lies within me, the part of me that craves this kind of submission, is a monster that I can no longer control, and I am at the mercy of my husband’s every whim.
>Soulkyn