The Confrontation

It happened three months after the wedding.

You were kneeling naked in the living room, your heavy DDD breasts resting on Dorothy’s thigh as she casually read her tablet. Milk occasionally beaded at your nipples from the constant hormonal stimulation. Your long hair cascaded down your back, and the little bell on your tongue jingled softly whenever you moved.

The doorbell rang.

Dorothy’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.

“Ah… right on time.”

She stood up, tugging your leash. “Come, Slutcunt. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

You crawled behind her to the front door. When she opened it, a man stood there — tall, handsome in a conventional way, wearing a crisp shirt and jeans. He looked to be in his early 40s.

It was Mark, Dorothy’s ex-husband.

His eyes widened in shock as he took in the sight before him: Dorothy looking radiant and powerful… and you — completely naked, collared, with massive breasts, long feminine hair, a caged and pierced clitty, and clear brands on your body.

“What the fuck…?” Mark whispered, voice cracking.

Dorothy smiled sweetly and pulled you closer by the leash.

“Mark, darling. How nice of you to finally visit. I believe you’ve never properly met my wife.”

She pushed you forward gently.

“This is Slutcunt Voss. My legal wife. My property. My beautiful, broken little breeding bitch.”

Mark stared at you in horror and disbelief. His eyes kept darting between your heavy leaking breasts, the engraved collar, and the heart charms dangling from your cage.

“You… you actually did it,” he said, voice shaking. “You found some poor bastard and destroyed him.”

Dorothy laughed softly, running her fingers through your long hair.

“Destroyed? No, my love. I improved her. Look at her. Perfect tits. Long hair. Trained to crave my cum. She wakes up every morning, bathes, makes my coffee, and sucks my cock before I even open my eyes. She eats my cum in every meal and drinks my piss like it’s water. She’s everything you refused to be.”

Mark’s face twisted with disgust and anger.

“I left you because I didn’t want to be turned into… this. A fucking freak show. A brainwashed pet.”

Dorothy’s expression turned cold.

“You left because you were weak. You couldn’t handle being my wife in Dominara. You ran away like a coward. And now look at you…” She tugged your leash, making you crawl closer to him. “This is what a real wife looks like.”

She cupped one of your heavy breasts and squeezed. A thin stream of milk squirted out onto the floor.

“She even lactates for me. I drink from her every single day. Something you could never give me.”

Mark looked physically sick.

“You’re a monster, Dorothy.”

Dorothy’s smile returned, sharp and cruel.

“Perhaps. But I’m a very rich, very satisfied monster with a perfect wife.” She leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “While you’re still alone, jerking off to memories of a life you were too scared to live.”

She stepped closer to him, towering over him with her presence.

“I called you here for one reason only — to show you what you lost. To show you what a real wife is supposed to be. Now look at her.”

She **** your head up by the collar so Mark could see your empty, submissive eyes.

“Say hello to him, Slutcunt.”

You looked up at your husband’s ex and spoke softly, voice trembling but obedient:

“Hello, Sir… I’m Slutcunt. Dorothy’s wife.”

Mark took a step back, visibly shaken.

Dorothy laughed lightly.

“You can leave now, Mark. Go back to your boring little life abroad. I have everything I need right here.”

She slammed the door in his face.

Then she turned to you, eyes dark with lust and satisfaction. She pulled you up by the collar and kissed you fiercely, groping your heavy breasts.

“You did so well, my love,” she whispered against your lips. “Now go to the bedroom. Your husband wants to fuck her pretty lactating wife after that delightful little reunion.”