Femme Domme Tale

by melanieatplay

©Copyright 2018 melanieatplay

With special thanks for my friends and editors, Harvey and Jim, for their contributions and collaborations, without which, this story would not be complete.

Additionally, this version has been carefully and thoroughly grammar-checked and adjusted by ahorsewithnoname.

Chapter 1

“Do you ever think about me dominating you in the bedroom?”

I witnessed the shocked look in his eyes. “Why in the world are you bringing this up?”

It was all I could do to not burst out laughing.

Greta

Perhaps I should start from the beginning, two years ago. I have to admit, our marriage started very normal. Chris and I met during our senior year of college at UNLV. He was a political science major, and I studied computer science. Interestingly, we had never even taken a class together until the fall of our final year, and I couldn’t even remember seeing him around campus.

He still doesn’t believe this, but I knew we’d get married on our second date. Of course, being a man, it took him almost another year to reach the same obvious conclusion. For whatever reason, I just knew that we would wind up together.

My instant attraction to him was very atypical because my thought process was very analytical and methodical. I guess that’s why I like computers: Unlike people, numbers never lie, ones and zeros, binary code, the basis of all computer programming.

We had a good sex life. Not great, mind you, but good. Chris was a little smaller than some of the guys I had been with, but he was more than adequate and got the job done in the bedroom. We are both very open-minded, and we loved to role-play, which kept our sex life interesting.

Chris confessed to me a couple of times that he had a ‘Dominant Female’ fetish, and, at the time, it didn’t particularly interest me. In all honesty, I found it a little boring. I had never considered myself a take-charge person, and I didn’t have a dominant-type personality. He never pushed the issue, and we both seemed content to let it drop.

When it came to my priorities, sex just never topped the list. I wanted good grades, to have a great job, and to live the American Dream. Those were the important things in life to me.

During high school and three years of college, sex was easy enough to find when I wanted it. I’ve been told many times that I’m pretty, and even though I’m a little on the plump side, guys still seemed to like my body, and there was never a shortage of men who were willing to take care of me. I’d hook up, have fun, and leave the next morning. Pretty simple.

Until I met Chris, relationships were just an encumbrance. In my life plan, romantic entanglements would just hinder my goals, which was the last thing I wanted. Also, I never liked dealing with someone’s idiosyncratic issues or forcing them to deal with mine. However, when you’re twenty-two and see graduation and adulthood on the horizon, you realize it’s time to get serious and start thinking about the future. And I knew I didn’t want to be alone for the rest of my life.

Chris proposed to me the night before our graduation. Of course, I accepted.

I also suggested that we take a pre-marriage counseling course. Being the systematic and rational person I am, I thought it would be wise to see a therapist so we could work out some of the little issues in our relationship now so they wouldn’t become major problems.

Chris was a great guy with a level head, and I thought I could concentrate on my career while he took charge of our marriage. Of course, I wanted to give input when I thought it was required, but I was more than happy to let Chris handle the day-to-day issues. At the time, that idea seemed reasonable enough.

Upon graduation, my life went exactly according to plan. I had been interning for two summers at a large Strip casino in their massive IT department, and once I had my degree, they put me in charge of a small division. My career was taking off at an exponential rate, and it wasn’t long before we had saved enough money to move out of our shoe-box apartment and buy a house in the very exclusive neighborhood of Lake Las Vegas.

As my career flourished, Chris’s seemed to wither. He got a position on a state senator’s re-election campaign, which kept him busy for a few months. Unfortunately, he was again looking for work once the November election was over. He seemed to drift aimlessly from one consulting job to another and never seemed happy or fulfilled in his career.

His discontent with his job was the genesis of our marital difficulties. We seemed to have constant power struggles over very minute things, and it appeared to me that, at times, he would come home just looking to pick a fight over anything. Despite this, we had a good marriage and were best friends. Yet there was an underlying tension that I know both of us felt.

Our situation improved dramatically when Chris decided to go back to school for his Master’s Degree. He picked up a paid position as a teaching assistant under one of his old professors, and I saw a noticeable improvement in his demeanor and our marriage.

It was a transition period for Chris, and it was about that time when our marriage changed.

Our computer was running slowly, so I pulled up the history to delete it. Being in IT, I knew every facet of computers. On the other hand, Chris’s knowledge of computers ended with powering the machine on and off.

My jaw dropped open at my discovery.

To my utter shock, I learned that Chris had been visiting Femme Domme sites, and some of the material he was viewing was very graphic. Not only did I learn that he was looking at images, but he was also reading stories and testimonials of men whose wives and girlfriends were doing very graphic and almost disturbing things to their respective partners.

Do men really enjoy that?

I have to admit I felt very hurt and betrayed. My initial reaction was to confront him when he walked through the door. It upset me that he went online to fulfill what must be an obvious need instead of sharing it with me. Then I remembered our time in college. He had told me about this side of his sexuality, but I had disregarded it. At the very least, I hadn’t realized its significance.

Then, the analytical, or perhaps even the manipulative, part of my personality took over. I knew he had no idea that our browser tracked everything he did when he was online. I decided to hold my fire, as it were, and see how this developed.

I quickly discovered that it was a pain to check up on him. He only viewed Femme Domme sites when I wasn’t home, and rarely was I home alone to snoop. Fortunately, my problems were solvable with the stroke of the keyboard, so to speak. For a mere $29.99, I downloaded a spy program on our computer that automatically tracked his browsing and sent the results in real time to my phone. Now, no matter where I was, I knew exactly what he was looking at and when he was doing it.

To understand his obvious obsession, I started reading the articles that he was reading. Many websites contained links to other articles that provided even more material. And that’s when I made a rather extraordinary discovery: the FLM, or the female-led marriage. Espoused by a well-known feminist author, the FLM lifestyle had a whole society centered around women who took total control of their husbands. I read everything I could about these men who gave complete control to the women in their lives and the women who led them. I had to admit I was intrigued.

I also discovered that most articles and pictures he read and viewed centered on male chastity. I know this must sound incredibly naïve, but I was shocked to learn there were devices some of these women made their men wear that prevented them from touching themselves, becoming erect, or having orgasms!

Is this really what Chris wants?

In the following months, I was a voracious reader of my husband’s favorite subject. I spent hours researching stories and testimonials from women who had taken total control of their men and marriages. I viewed dozens of different male-chastity devices and read countless reviews from Domme women who had rated their effectiveness. I also read extensively on male anatomy, physiology, and psychology.

In keeping with my personality, it was a slow and methodical process. However, as time passed, my attitude changed from contempt and disgust at my initial discovery to arousal.

During my research, a particular website, FetLife, was referenced over and over by the BDSM community. I created a profile there and could read the numerous message boards and communicate with other women in the lifestyle. I was also able to answer my questions and give me advice.

After months of extensive and exhaustive research, I finally came to one simple conclusion: This lifestyle was very arousing to me, and if this was what Chris needed to be happy, then why shouldn’t I at least try to give it to him?

As I read about other couples and their active and imaginative sex lives, I came to another realization: Chris and I were in a sexual rut. At least, it felt like that to me. We made love several times a week, yet it felt like we were just going through the motions. When we had sex, there was no heat, no passion, no intensity. To be honest, our sex life was boring, just plain boring. I concluded that it was quite possible that one of us, or perhaps both of us, would reach a point where we’d question why we were together.

It was time to take action.

---

We had just finished our dinner this particular Friday night, and I poured Chris another glass of wine. Then I saw that he was about to go into the living room and watch the news.

“Hold on, Chris. Can we talk for a bit?” I said hesitantly.

“Sure, what’s going on?”

I took a deep breath. “Do you ever think about me dominating you in the bedroom?”

I witnessed the shocked, almost frightened look in his eyes.

“What ... why in the world are you bringing this up? Where did this come from?”

It was all I could do to not burst out laughing.

Because you’ve spent well over a hundred hours viewing Femme Domme material over a couple of months, I thought. I gave him a cold look.

“If you’re not interested in having an open, honest conversation with me, take your wine into the living room and watch TV.”

I saw him shrink in his chair and lower his eyes in embarrassment. “Yes, I think about it.”

I sipped my wine and waited for him to continue speaking.

“Since I was a teenager, I’ve fantasized about being controlled by a woman. I ... I ... tried to bring it up with you in college, but you didn’t seem that interested, so I just let it drop.”

I took a moment to reflect on his statement. “Is this just some pubescent teenage fantasy, or is it something you want, Chris?”

I paused momentarily, and it was as if I could see the wheels turning in his brain.

“It’s something I want and have dreamed about for as long as I can remember,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

He lowered his head, apparently ashamed. After several long moments, he looked up at me to gauge my reaction, his eyes searching, almost pleading.

“I’m willing to explore this with you, but I have some conditions,” I said.

He looked at me expectantly, with bated breath, and waited for me to continue. I tried to keep my voice calm even though I wanted him to know how serious I was.

“If we are going to do this, then it has to be real, not just some bedroom game.” I paused to let my words sink in. “I have to get something out of this lifestyle, too, because it can’t just be about you and your wants and desires.”

“I understand,” he said solemnly.

“For this to be fulfilling for me, we must take it out of the bedroom and live it.” His eyes widened as I continued. “For this to work for me, I would have to be the head of our marriage and require your total submission in all areas of our lives.”

His mouth dropped open. I smiled inwardly upon seeing the stunned look on his face.

Shit just got real, babe, didn’t it?

He attempted to speak, but his voice cracked, so he took a moment to compose himself. “W-w-where did this come from, Greta?”

I smiled. “You’ve been on many Femme Domme sites, and even though you didn’t know it, I’ve been viewing them with you.”

A shocked realization broke on his face, and I gave him a few moments to sink in this new information. I had originally planned on bringing up our passionless sex life, but I didn’t feel the need now because it was obvious that I had his full, complete attention.

“Your options are pretty simple. This can continue to be some jerk-off internet sex fantasy, or you can explore it in real life with me.”

I looked down at the table and watched as his hands trembled. Again, I could tell he was deep in thought. I didn’t want to pressure him. Yet I had momentum, and I didn’t want to lose it.

From my extensive research, I knew that Chris had to consent to entering this life with me. My plan wouldn’t work if he felt coerced into this monumental change I proposed in our marriage. I finally broke the silence.

“You seem very hesitant, and I don’t want to pressure you. What if I give you a week to think this over so you can decide if it’s something you really want.”

Our eyes met again. “No, Greta.” He paused to take a deep breath before continuing, “This is what I want, what I’ve always dreamed about, and I want to have this type of life, this type of marriage, with you.”

I smiled. “What specifically do you want to explore with me, Chris?”

I was already pretty sure I knew the answer to my question. However, it was important for him to give voice to his desires. Through my research, I learned that requiring a submissive to verbally express his wants made relinquishing control more real and substantive.

He looked down as if afraid to answer my question.

“Look at me, Chris,” I ordered.

He looked up sheepishly, and our eyes met.

“I want you to have control over my orgasms, and I want to experience male chastity,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

There we go.

“We are going to explore a lot of different areas of BDSM, Chris. Some of which I think you’ll like. However, there may be things I will require of you that you won’t like. Regardless, I want you to remember that you consented to give me complete control over you and our marriage.”

I paused again to let my words sink in.

Wordlessly, he nodded his head up and down.

“That’s not good enough, Chris ... say it!” I hissed.

He hesitated for a few moments. It was as if he was trying to reconcile his excitement of me taking control with his fear of the unknown. Then he took a deep breath.

“I agree to give you full control over every aspect of our marriage, Greta.”

I smiled. “Go to the bedroom, take off your clothes, get into bed, and wait for me.”

“Okay,” he said demurely.

“No,” I snapped. “From now on, you’ll address me as Ma’am.”

His hands were again visibly shaking, and I could see the excitement on his face.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said softly.

“Now go!”

Quickly, he rose from the table and proceeded to our bedroom.

I have to admit, I was incredibly excited as well. I had been planning this evening for weeks in the hopes that Chris would agree to my ‘redefinition’ of our marriage. My first instinct was to rush into the next phase of my plan. Then I realized I was in control now and could make him wait on me for as long as I wished.

I sat at the table, sipped my wine, and mentally planned the entire evening down to every minute detail. It was a heady feeling.

I had never experienced this type of complete control and power over another human being. It was a different experience, and I quickly realized I loved it. I took a moment to revel in and savor this exquisite new sensation.

It also made me realize that something within me had changed. This evening represented a turning point in my relationship with Chris, and I knew I’d never again be able to return to our traditional marriage.

I finished my glass of wine and took the other full glass I had poured for Chris into one of our guest bedrooms. Once there, I took the outfit I had hidden from the back of the closet.

Two weeks earlier, I had purchased a black strapless leather corset. It had spiral steel boning that came up right below my breasts and left them exposed. I also purchased a pair of Stewart Weitzman black leather highland boots to go with the corset. They had a three-inch heel and rose to my upper thighs. To complete the outfit, I also bought a black Lycra G-string.

Once I’d put on the outfit, I stood and looked into the full-length mirror, and my jaw dropped. Amazingly, I had transformed myself into a dominatrix straight out of Chris’s Femme Domme websites.

My long, curly blonde hair cascaded over my exposed breasts and tickled my erect nipples. My eyes traveled down to the black leather corset that was holding in my pudgy middle. I weighed 160 pounds and wasn’t in that great shape. But the tight and toning bodice gave me a transforming, classic, hourglass appearance.

I was also amazed at how tall I looked. At 5’6”, I was a little taller than the average woman. However, the additional height from my three-inch heels made me feel like I would be towering over anyone near me.

Without realizing it, I was hyperventilating due to my almost uncontrollable excitement. I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself down. I looked again into the mirror and saw that my wet pussy had already soaked through the Lycra thong.

I thought of stalling to make Chris wait on me even longer. However, I knew that any further delay was torturing myself as much as it was probably torturing Chris. In one long gulp, I downed the glass of wine.

It’s time.

I stepped out of the bedroom and immediately heard the clicking of the high-heeled boots along the ceramic tile flooring of our hallway. I couldn’t help but feel like a mythical warrior princess who was marching into battle. A silly thought, I know, but that image seemed to capture the moment perfectly.

I opened the door to our bedroom and saw Chris sitting naked in the middle of our four-post king-size bed with his erect cock proudly on display. I watched his mouth drop open as he took me in. I loved how his eyes traveled up and down my body, drinking in every detail of my dominatrix outfit. My nipples were almost painfully erect, and the wetness of my pussy had created a large dark wet spot in the crotch of the Lycra thong. I couldn’t remember the last time I was so worked up.

After a few moments, our eyes met, and he started to speak, but I cut him off. “Lower your eyes.”

His mouth dropped open in shock at my simple order, and then he quickly complied. “Yes, Ma’am.”

I paused, giving him time to lower his eyes and wait on me. I was happy that I didn’t have to remind him about how he would now address me. It also pleased me that he was taking this seriously.

“I want you to listen to me carefully. From now on, when I allow you the honor and privilege of worshiping my body, you’ll be rewarded for obeying me and severely punished when you don’t.”

His eyes remained lowered onto the bed, and his hands trembled gently.

“Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said softly.

I waited a full minute and ensured he didn’t raise his eyes. I wanted to begin training him to wait on me. From now on, everything we did together, both in and out of the bedroom, would be done on my timetable, not his.

“Lie on your back but with your feet at the head of the bed.”

I saw a bewildered look on his face for a split second, and then he quickly complied with my order. I loved how his eyes were pointed at the wall at the head of the bed and not at me.

“Extend your arms.”

Again, he hurriedly followed my order.

Taking my time, I reached underneath the bed and produced two large leather cuffs attached to cable ties. The cable ties were securely fixed to the bedposts right above the carpet.

“Have you ever been restrained?”

I was pretty sure I knew the answer to my question before even asking it. However, I wanted to ask to add a little more drama to the moment.

“No, Ma’am,” he said in a shaky, uneven voice.

I began to buckle the thick leather straps to his wrists while I spoke.

“You’ve spent so much time on the internet being a voyeur of other people’s sex lives, yet you’ve had so few experiences of your own, wouldn’t you agree?”

I watched as his face turned a deep crimson. “Yes, Ma’am.”

His eyes followed my movement to his other hand as I buckled his other wrist into the large leather strap. I noticed that he was careful not to look into my eyes.

He pulled tight on the restraints, testing them, but everything held securely. There was a small amount of play in the cable ties, but not enough for him to move his arms very far.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get away from me?”

He took a deep breath, and I could tell he was resigning from this new situation. “No, Ma’am.”

“I think you’re right about that.”

I took a moment to look at my husband. His chest was rising and falling with each rapid breath he took, and his penis was throbbing in time to the beat of his heart. I also noticed that his cock was dripping, and a little pool of pre-cum was forming on his stomach.

“You’re so worked up, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied between short, shallow sips of breath.

I reached down and dragged my fingernails across his chest, which caused him to gasp and take a deep breath.

“I think having another glass of wine and checking back on you in an hour or so would be fun.”

He gasped. “No, Ma’am, please...”

The horrified look on his face when I teased him about leaving the room brought another realization to my mind.

“I feel you still think tonight is about you.”

A befuddled look broke onto his face. I could tell he had no idea where I was going with this. I couldn’t help but smile.

“You only exist to serve me now.” I paused for a moment to let my words sink in. “When and if you get any type of sexual pleasure will depend solely on how well you service me. How well you meet my needs and perform to my expectations. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he responded quickly.

“Tonight and every night hereafter is about me and what I want ... do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

I paused again and let everything I was telling him sink in. My eyes traveled to his cock, and I noticed a string of pre-cum from the slit in the head of his penis down to the pool that had formed on his stomach.

“You’re making quite a mess down there.”

He looked down at his penis. “Yes, Ma’am.”

I sat on the bed beside him and ran two fingers through the pool of pre-cum, collecting most of it. I examined the clear, shiny liquid on the tips of my fingers.

“Look at me.” His eyes met mine.

I made a loud, pronounced slurping sound as I licked his pre-cum off my fingers. I always loved the way his cum tasted, and I had swallowed countless loads of it over the past two years since we had met.

His mouth dropped open as he watched me. I looked into his eyes as a wicked thought entered my mind.

“It’s rude of me not to share, isn’t it?”

His eyes got wide.

I reached down, grasped his cock, gave it a slow, hard pull, and watched as more of his pre-cum dribbled onto his stomach. I ran my fingers through the pool again, collecting more of his seminal fluid, and then held them up to his mouth. He knew what I wanted, yet there were a few seconds of hesitation, and I looked sternly into his eyes.

“What you do in the next few seconds will determine how the rest of this evening will go.”

He took a deep breath and hungrily sucked my fingers into his mouth, cleaning his pre-cum from them. I smiled.

“Good boy. I think you deserve a reward for your obedience, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he quickly responded after swallowing the last of his pre-cum.

I took one of my large 36DD breasts in my hand and leaned forward, guiding my erect nipple into his mouth, and he immediately began sucking it hard.

“Easy ... take your time ... you have all night.”

Chris eased up and began rolling my nipple around in his mouth, which caused me to let out a little moan. After a few moments, I leaned back, and my nipple popped out of his mouth.

‘Good boy ... now the other.”

He immediately took my other nipple into his mouth and gave it the same luxurious treatment. Chris had always loved my big breasts, which were still very firm despite their size. This was so much better than one of our normal nights when foreplay consisted of a nipple twist or tongue flick. He was worshiping them now, just the way I wanted. After about a minute, I withdrew the erect nipple from his mouth and stood up.

“Do you think you’ve earned the right to taste my pussy?”

“Oh, yes, please, Ma’am, please,” he whimpered.

“I think you can beg better than that.”

“Please, Ma’am, please let me taste your hot, wet pussy.”

In all honesty, I wanted to feel his mouth on me probably more than he wanted to do it. My thong was completely soaked through, and my juices were beginning to run down the inside of my thighs. I was certain I’d never been this wet before in my entire life.

I made a real show of slowly sliding the soaked thong down my thighs before stepping out of it, even though it was a bit of a challenge getting it over the boots. My pussy was a sticky, soaked mess, and I was almost certain that my aromatic bouquet could be smelled at our front door. I moved to the foot of our bed.

“Get your tongue out of your mouth.”

Chris complied, extending his tongue as far out as he could. Facing away from him, I lowered myself onto his waiting mouth. It almost immediately felt like lightning bolts were shooting through my body.

He was moving his tongue up and down my slit, then inside me, then back out, over and over. I felt him move beneath me, pulling against his restraints as I applied more pressure to his face. It felt as if his mouth and tongue were simultaneously all over my vagina, even though I knew that was impossible.

I tried to hold back my orgasm, but it was an exercise in futility. His tongue kept brushing over my clit as it slid through my lips and then inside me, and I released, shaking violently on top of him.

Once I regained my senses, I stood up and broke contact with his mouth. I wanted to wait a minute or so because my clit always gets incredibly sensitive after an orgasm.

God, I felt so powerful. In the past, it was always him giving me oral sex. This was something so completely and totally different. This time, it was me fucking his face. Using him, using his mouth to pleasure myself, to get myself off. It was such a heady, erotic feeling.

I looked down, and his face and the top of his hairline were completely covered in my juices.

“Keep your tongue out this time, and don’t move it. Do you understand?”

He was still gasping, trying to catch his breath. I guess there were times when he wasn’t getting much oxygen. I made a mental note to watch that.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said between deep inhales and exhales.

Again, I lowered myself onto Chris’s face, and his tongue went inside me. I moved slowly up and down and felt him lick the walls of my vagina before moving back out so he could get a couple of breaths of air. I moved my pussy around so his tongue was exactly where I wanted it; inside my vagina, then over my lips, then to my clit. It was like having a human dildo pleasuring me.

Now and then, his tongue went back into his mouth. On the third time, I pulled his hair hard. “Get that fuckin’ tongue out,” I screeched.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, I’m sorry...” he said between muffled gasps of breath.

I scooted forward just enough that his mouth was running over my asshole, and after my vaginal secretions and his saliva had me sufficiently lubed, I worked his tongue in and out of my asshole as well.

His tongue had firmly drilled deep into my bottom when I reached between my legs and rubbed my clit, which caused me to release for the second time.

---

I wasn’t sure how long it had been. Two hours? Maybe even three that I had been pleasuring myself on my husband’s face. I came so many times I had long ago lost count. What I did know was that I was close to exhaustion.

After my last orgasm, I wobbled over to the chair next to our bed and got off my now-unsteady feet. My pussy hair was a tangled, matted mess, and the secretions from my vagina had run down the inside of my thighs and had nearly reached my knees. My pussy and ass felt like they would take a month to recover, and my entire body was sore due to the almost non-stop orgasms.

I looked over at Chris, who was still restrained to the bed. His face was beet red, and he was trying to catch his breath. His face and hair were soaked, and he looked like a mess. He was also moving his jaw back and forth to loosen it. He’d gone down on me quite a bit in the past, but we’d never had a marathon session like this.

Chris looked so beat, so broken, so totally vulnerable and used. At that moment, he looked perfect to me. My eyes traveled down to his penis. He was still hard, and there was an almost bluish tint to his cock and balls.

I thought that a true Domme might leave him tied up and not give him relief. However, I wasn’t quite at that level yet, and I couldn’t be that cruel. He did very well in our first session, and I needed to reward him. But first, I had to get back into character.

I stood up from the chair. “Look at me.”

His eyes tiredly met mine. “Yes, Ma’am,” he responded.

“Do you think you’ve earned the privilege of having your cock inside me?”

“Yes, Ma’am, please, please let me have you.”

I smiled and walked over to the edge of the bed. “Maybe I should ride your face a few more times first.”

He shook his head from side to side; he was so tired he closed his eyes and couldn’t form words to speak.

“I’ll take pity on you just this once.”

“Thank you, Ma’am, thank you,” he said.

I got on the bed and then swung my leg over his stomach, straddling him. I slid back on his stomach until the head of his cock was resting at my aperture. I leaned in and kissed him, tasting myself in his mouth, and slid back until his cock was all the way inside my soupy-wet pussy.

I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself and began grinding my pussy back into him. Even though I was squeezing the muscles of my vagina as hard as I could, I was still so incredibly wet I could barely feel him inside me. Again, because he was restrained, I was in complete control of the angle of his cock inside me, the pace, everything.

I was incredibly tired from our very intense session. Yet the feeling of power and control was undeniable and almost beyond explanation. Unlike our previous sexual experiences, he wasn’t making love to me. I was using my pussy to milk his cock, to extract what I wanted from him, and only after he had pleasured me with his mouth countless times. I couldn’t help but revel in the exhilarating feeling of strength and power coursing through my body.

Without realizing it, I was pushing back hard on his cock, which was sending a sharp pain through my very well-used vagina. However, it was also causing him to grunt and cry out.

“Oh, God, Ma’am, I’m going to...”

I felt his strong blasts of semen squirt into my vagina over and over, and I squeezed my pussy hard on his cock before collapsing on top of him. His orgasm seemed to go on forever, and I couldn’t remember a time when he came so much.

In all honesty, I just wanted to untie him and get some sleep. However, there was one last thing I had to do and one last precedent that would be set before I could pronounce our first session complete.

I pushed myself away from his body, and our eyes met. “Open your mouth; there’s one last duty you’ll perform.”

His eyes widened in shock at realizing what I was about to make him do. “Please, Ma’am, please,” he stammered.

I roughly took his mouth between my fingers and squeezed hard, which silenced him.

“From now on, this is going to be the price of your orgasms. If it comes out of your cock, it’s going back in your mouth. Do you understand me?”

He took a deep breath as if resigning himself to what he knew would happen next.

“Yes, Ma’am, I understand.”

I scooted my body forward until my pussy was directly above his face. Then I lowered myself down one last time and felt his tongue squirm inside of me.

At that moment, the feeling of power and control that I had over Chris was overwhelming and almost inebriating. While cleaning me, his tongue was making contact with my clit; my pussy began to spasm and contract, and I had one last powerful orgasm as he licked and then sucked his semen from my vagina.

I collapsed on top of him and began to catch my breath. While recovering, I reveled in the fact that he had cleaned me with an incredible amount of zeal and bravado. I had been with quite a few men, but none of them had ever licked me after they’d come inside me.

Chris and I had never done anything like this before, and I had to admit I wasn’t even sure that he’d be willing to taste his own semen. However, I was more than ready to punish him if he refused. Incredulously, I felt it would have been a letdown for him had I not made him do it.

Once he was finished, I looked down and inspected my pussy and then his face. He had been quite thorough, and there were only minute traces of his semen left on the lips of my vagina. I also checked his mouth, and it was quite evident that he had swallowed the cum that he had collected from inside me. Considering the very large load he’d put inside me, I felt he’d done an excellent job.

Satisfied, I reached over and unclasped one of Chris’s wrists from the restraints and then the other. I then slid off of him and rested by his side. He pulled me tight against him, and we embraced lovingly. We shared several minutes of comfortable silence while we held each other and caught our breath. Finally, Chris broke the silence.

“Thank you so much for this evening, Ma’am.”

I smiled. I almost felt silly now, hearing him call me that. Yet I liked that he wasn’t willing to break character, even though we had completed the scene.

“You don’t have to call me that all the time, Chris, only when we are in a scene or if I give you a direct order.”

He smiled. “Okay, Greta.”

We enjoyed a few more moments of comfortable silence. I was having difficulty keeping my heavy eyes open due to the sheer exhaustion of the evening. Still, I remembered an article I’d read while doing my research about debriefing once the session was over.

“Did you have a problem with anything we did, or is there anything we need to discuss?” I said softly.

There were a few moments of silence. “No, Greta, I loved everything, and everything was perfect.” He paused for a few seconds before continuing. “It might’ve been a little bit difficult at first licking my cum out of you, but overall it was the best night of my life.”

I smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Chris.”

I slid to the edge of the bed, removed my boots, and unhooked the tight corset from my body. I thought of taking a shower or even a hot, relaxing bath. But all I wanted was a few hours of sleep.

I got back into bed, snuggled up against Chris, and he pulled me tight against him. Interestingly, my mind drifted back to the first time we had made love. There had been a feeling of newness, wonder, and immense joy. I couldn’t help but smile because the passion was back.

As I drifted off, I took a few minutes to reflect on how successful our first session was, and that made me realize just how much I still had to learn. Tonight was just the tip of the iceberg when I thought of everything I had planned for Chris in the upcoming months. However, it was a good start, and I accomplished all my goals.

Chris had agreed to the redefinition of our marriage with me in charge. Additionally, he did everything I asked him to do and was very enthusiastic most of the time.

What I would require of him in the upcoming months would be very difficult. However, I was fairly certain that he felt he was living his dream, and as long as that remained the case, there was a fairly good chance that this would work, and we’d both be happy. Maybe happier than we’ve ever been.

“Ummm ... Ma’am,” he whispered. “What do you have planned for us tomorrow?”

I chuckled a little, then clumsily reached up and found his face in the dark. I gave it a half-decent slap.

“Settle down. You’ll find that I’m just getting warmed up.”

Chapter 2

Greta takes Chris deeper into submission

I awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon and freshly brewed coffee.

Is Chris cooking?

I looked over at the bedside clock; I had slept until just a little past noon. Slowly, as I began to wake up in earnest, the previous evening's activities flooded into my mind.

The restraints, my dominatrix outfit, our extreme face-sitting session, and Chris licking his semen from my pussy. Looking back, the events of the previous evening seemed almost surreal, and I struggled to make sense of them.

I rose from the bed and went into the bathroom. Once I had finished, I put on a pair of white cotton panties, a sports bra, shorts, and a t-shirt. While I dressed, I examined my body in the mirror, and my heart sank.

I was at least thirty-five pounds overweight, and I detested the cellulite that had collected around my midsection and on my thighs. I couldn't remember the last time I worked out, and for the most part, I ate whatever I wanted. Unfortunately, my lifestyle choices were very evident.

I felt so empowered and in control last night when I dominated Chris. That was a stark juxtaposition to how I felt while standing in front of our bathroom mirror. A wretchedness washed over me. I felt powerless, helpless, and adrift. I was seconds from tears, but I quickly fought them back. I made a solemn vow to myself to break this cycle, starting today.

I walked out of the bedroom into the kitchen and was greeted with a bright smile.

"I was just about ready to come in and wake you, Ma'am."

I smiled.

"I told you that you don't have to call me that unless we are in a scene."

"I know, but I couldn't resist. I woke up feeling wonderful."

I sat down at the table, and he brought me a large plate of scrambled eggs with just a little bit of fresh dill because he knew I liked them. There were also a few strips of bacon along with a toasted bagel. To complete the meal, he served me a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

"This is just wonderful," I said while looking down at my plate of food. "I have to admit, I wasn't expecting this."

"I wanted to do something special for you and show my appreciation for last night."

His attitude was a bit of a shock to me. I had been very demanding of Chris the previous evening, and it wouldn't have surprised me to learn that he wanted to back out of this entire thing. However, that obviously wasn't the case.

"So you're still okay with everything we did?"

"I told you last night, Greta, it was the best night of my life, and I can't wait for us to do it again... when you're ready, of course."

I smiled.

He was so respectful and loving. I could get used to this.

We shared a few moments of comfortable silence until Chris began speaking.

"I'm hesitant to even bring this up, but could we talk about something?"

Our eyes met.

"We have to always be able to talk about anything, Chris. That's critical in this type of relationship."

He took a deep breath.

"I know you are in charge now, but I'd like you to at least consider this at some point… maybe in the future."

He paused as if trying to find the right words.

"It's okay, Chris, just come out with it."

He took another deep breath.

"I'd like you to consider cuckolding me."

Cuckolding? He wants me to be with another man?

It took me a full minute to consider and weigh some of the possibilities and their ramifications. I couldn't help but feel that this suggestion was a byproduct of last night. It was as if he wanted to try everything he'd ever seen or read about online. I had to admit, when I felt the rush of power as I dominated him, the idea of opening our marriage and being with other men had crossed my mind.

"I'm open to the idea, Chris. However, we need to take things slow. There are so many things that I want us to experience together, and we need to build a solid foundation as a couple while we explore this lifestyle before we bring others into it. Wouldn't you agree?"

He smiled.

"Maybe I am getting caught up in last night, but I'm happy that you are open to considering it."

We sipped our coffee for a few moments, and I enjoyed the very comfortable silence. The best aspect of our newly established BDSM marriage was the open and honest dialogue we were having. Unlike in the past, Chris wasn't sneaking around behind my back on the internet. We were communicating and learning new and exciting things about each other. I couldn't help but feel like we were really growing as a couple.

It was somewhat unsettling that Chris seemed to be open to trying almost anything, and I figured at least one of us needed to keep a level head. I knew that this was a huge transition for him, and I didn't want to push him too hard or too quickly. I reasoned that reading about other people's BDSM adventures online was much different than actually experiencing them firsthand, and I had to remain cognizant of that fact.

There was one more thing that we needed to discuss, though.

"We've made a lot of changes in the past twenty-four hours, Chris, but there's one more change I need to make for myself, and I want to discuss it with you."

He looked at me expectantly and waited for me to continue.

I took a deep breath.

"I'm not happy with my weight, but I finally feel like this is a good time to do something about it."

He gave me a look of concern.

"Babe, I love you so much, just the way you are. You know I don't care about the weight. The only thing I care about is you being happy. So, if this is something you want, you need to make this change for yourself. Just know you have my full support."

I smiled.

"So what you're really saying is, you'd be okay with having a hot wife?"

We both giggled.

"What I'm saying is: I love you regardless, and if you're happy, I'm happy."

He reached across the table, took my hand, and gently squeezed. It was such a wonderful morning, and it was as if I could actually feel our marriage getting stronger.

---

The next month was like going through a living hell, not at home, but at work.

I manage a small division in the IT department of a large Las Vegas strip casino, and my best friend Liz is a VIP personal trainer to some of our more exclusive guests. On numerous occasions since we met, she had invited me to work out with her, but I had always declined her invitation. Until now, I just never felt inspired enough to accept her offer. However, now that I was taking control of my marriage with Chris, it just felt like the right time to take control of my weight and start getting healthy.

That was a preview of A Femme Domme Tale. To read the rest purchase the book.

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