🔞5EX: SUSTAINED OBLITERATION🔞

No witnesses!

Syds POV

Harry has made up my eyes using natural colours but lashings of mascara and winged liner. It's actually not too terrible, he's clearly been practicing his skills....... last time he did my make up I looked like the joker from Batman! I worry about who he has been practicing on, and find myself hoping that he has been using a dolls head.
The large mirror I sit before reflects the entirety of the room, allowing me to not only regard my own reflection but also what is behind me.
My eyes lock with Harry's. He is standing beside me, just staring at my naked and displayed reflection. My stomach lurches but I have nothing left inside me to bring up. My brain is pleading with him to decide that this isn't what he wants but I will my eyes not to show that desperation....... my distress gets him off after all, I'm not going to help with that!
Lowering my eyes from his lust filled ones I am not surprised, but am as usual terrified to find that he is palming himself through his trousers, his arousal very clear, my true torment to begin just as soon as he has me dressed.
This is where the extortionately expensive customisation of the shower chair becomes incredibly useful to a control freak perfectionist like Harry. A man who has shared my body with, and fed pieces of my soul to many others, but has never once allowed anyone to assist him in getting me prepped for play. That was his pleasure, and his alone. The only time he had me to himself. I have long suspected that one of the reasons he likes this alone time is because it is something he has that 'THE SIX' never will, but would all give their right testicle for!
Another possible cause of his need for this one on one time is because he still views me as his property, property that he is generous enough to share with his partners in crime, but keeping a little something back from them to prove his dominance and superiority over them. He is a very vain and self important man.
This brings my mind to the third possible, and in my mind the most satisfying reason why he prefers to have me alone during prep. I think it is because he suffers with premature ejaculation.
He gets himself so worked up that after the briefest number of thrusts he is exploding like a geyser, panting like a dog in July and screwing his face up into the ugliest mask of release I've ever seen, and I've seen a few thanks to Harry and his inferiority complex.
Inside I am laughing like a maniac, AT HIM, for being so pathetic. The way he can't admit he has a problem, one that can be assisted with help for fear of embarrassment is pathetic.
His ego so vulnerable he has to beat, degrade and humiliate, torture, rape and pimp out his wife to feel powerful, masculine and valid is pathetic.

Harry is pathetic!!

So concerned by the views of others and the need for their approval and respect he became the most cruel, abusive, angry tormentor ........ of a woman who had loved him. One who believed initially that she could help him, but after a few months of progressively severe beatings and derogatory comments about her inability to arouse him, her appearance and lack of sex appeal being the cause of his very pathetic lack of control, realised that she would never be able to help him. He didn't want to be helped....... the thrill he felt at inflicting ever increasing levels of pain and suffering was too much to give up. He had found his calling.......thats the way he described his descent into evil to me during one pre-play prep time.

So inadequate that he punishes me for his shortcomings with an intensifying anger, an escalation of the violence and hatred, and an increase in the pain and suffering he will cause me at every new 'play party' he hosts.

PATHETIC!

I watch as he presses a button on a key pad that is connected to the chair and it begins to move, the seat raising me into a standing position, allowing him to dress me far more easily, although not without its challenges.
My weight is basically being supported by my arms, suspended as I am in an upright position as of being crucified, with my feet a small distance away from the footplate. This makes it possible for him to slide the underwear up my legs, tucking it tightly into the narrow thigh gap to prevent it from falling down while he rolls the silky hold ups onto my small feet and up my calves, his touch lingering over my knees before snapping the rubber backed lace at my thighs, finally putting on the cute ankle boots that in any other circumstance I would love to wear.