"Get in that kitchen and cook my dinner, wench," he says, as he unties me.

"Yes John," I say, using the name we use when he goes into character to dominate me. We don't go in for a full-time BDSM lifestyle, but sometimes, like today, 'bedroom' activities extend into other areas of life. By using his play name I'm indicating my willingness to continue.

We go down to the kitchen. He has dressed by now, but I am still naked. One of John's rules is that he gets to dictate what I wear. Or not wear, as the case may be. "You may put on the apron," he says.

I take the apron off the hook on the back of the kitchen door and put it on, tying the strings around my waist. It leaves me with a lot of side boob and an exposed bottom, that feels like it is still pink from an earlier hard spanking. I begin chopping onions and a red pepper.

He nestles up behind me and starts groping my tits, pinching my nipples, and nibbling my neck. Possibly not the best idea when I'm trying to use a sharp knife that could slip and cut my fingers, but to point this out would be against the rules, and could incur all sorts of punishment, so I keep my mouth shut and try to be careful. Luckily I am skilled with a knife as I do most of the cooking in our household since he can only cook three things, two of which involve oven chips. To be fair, when he's not being John, he does most of the housework as I am a total slattern in that department. While I prefer not to live in filth, I can ignore quite a lot of it so as not to have to clean so often. Occasionally John makes me do a bit of token dusting or hoovering dressed in my slutty maid's outfit, but usually, that doesn't last long before he wants a blow job or a fuck.

The onions and red pepper go in the pan. "Hurry up, I'm getting hungry," he says. Peppers take ages to cook properly, though. I suspect I'm going to be in trouble. It won't be quick enough, but on the other hand, John won't accept badly cooked food, either.

As I start to slice up a courgette, he fingers me from behind. I am dripping wet, John has that effect on me. Somewhat hampered, I turn to scrape the slices from the chopping board into the pan, spilling a few onto the floor. "Clumsy little slut, pick those up," he says. I bend over, his fingers pushing further into my cunt, and gather up the courgette pieces from the floor. "Hmm, I think you need to crawl to the bin with those." I get on my hands and knees and crawl over to the bin. I don't point out that they should really go in the caddy on the counter above, that we use to collect organic waste for composting.

"May I stand up and stir the pan, please, John?"

"I suppose you'd better."

I stand up and stir the vegetables, that are starting to soften, unlike John, who appears to be rather hard in the crotch area of his jeans. I do love this man's stamina, he's had a blow job and fucked me twice already today. As I stir, he reaches up to the top of the cupboard next to the cooker and takes down the box containing the kitchen vibrator. He switches the vibe on and starts to rub it between my legs, making me squirm so that the movement of my hips mirrors the movement of the wooden spoon.

"You like that, don't you, you naughty little whore."

"Yes, John."

"That slutty cunt of yours is never satisfied." The vibrator withdraws, leaving me twitching. He reaches past me to the jar on the kitchen counter where we keep cooking utensils and pulls out the metal fish slice. "I think you need another spanking when I can catch you!" He gives me a playful slap on one buttock. Seeing where this is going I switch off the hob and wriggle past him. He likes to chase me around the house when we play. I run out of the kitchen and up the stairs, John in hot pursuit, swiping at my backside with the fish slice, and brandishing the still-buzzing vibrator.

In the bedroom he pushes me face down onto the bed, holding me down with one hand between my shoulder blades, while he repeatedly slaps my bum with the utensil. As spanking tools go, it's not the most painful, but it delivers a pleasing sting, particularly on top of the rather vigorous over-the-knee hand treatment he gave me earlier. I squeal and laugh, loving the feeling of it and the sheer absurdity of being spanked with a fish slice. There's always room for levity in these matters, in my opinion.

"Naughty girl, you've got me all turned on, and now I'm going to have to fuck you again," he says, pulling out his cock. He pushes it into my wet and willing pussy for the third time that day. "Now look what you made me do, slut."

He thrusts into me and pushes the vibrator, that has been humming away to itself on the bed beside me during the fish slice slapping, underneath me to stimulate my clit. "Cum for me, whore."

What with the thrusting of his cock into my G spot and the vibrator against my clit, I soon oblige him with a shuddering orgasm that makes me gasp and cry out. Then he fucks me hard, me moaning and pushing myself back into him until he too cums, although there's not a lot of spunk to come out after the day's earlier exertions.

Back down in the kitchen, he asks if I can still be bothered to cook, now.

"Not really," I reply, scraping the half-done veg into a container for use the next day. I am still naked apart from the apron.

"Right then, get on that app and order my dinner, wench," he says, grinning. I pick up my phone and open the delivery app's page for our favourite Chinese, and start ordering. "PVC mini dress and fishnets to answer the door, I think," he tells me. "And your collar and leash. I want the driver to know just what a slutty little bitch you are"

"Yes, John," I say, and head upstairs to put them on, ready for when the delivery person arrives.