Poe

Loving wife stories: I just can't seem to get enough of them. I get angry when the wimp gives in to an unloving wife, I cheer when the hero comes out on top, I cry when there isn't a happy ending. Okay, maybe not.

But I have always wondered what would happen when a loving wife, one who does things for her husband without being cruel, finally gets pushed too far.

This is a flash story about female domination. Or rather, male submission. Originally published as an entry for a contest, now re-edited for your enjoyment. Femdom, Fetish, a 'Loving' Wife, and a little Erotic Horror. If that isn't your speed, stop reading now.

*

Paul pressed his eye to the hole in the locked closet door. His view was of the master bedroom, specifically the bed upon which his wife Joanne was currently masturbating with her favorite dildo. Her strokes here slow and deliberate, and her eyes were closed in a combination of concentration and escape. His view was hampered somewhat by the lack of light in the room, but the fact only added to the effect. A few candles around the room provided the only light.

Paul felt his own erection strain against her latest gift; a steel chastity cage padlocked tightly under his latex French maid outfit. His arms, tied together in a single glove behind his back, had been connected to a steel hook in the closet's ceiling, and he tottered on his custom high heels. A penis gag and hood made sure that he didn't complain out loud. The only noise he could make was to jingle the small bell that dangled between his legs, which was his form of a safeword. He otherwise couldn't move nor speak. Not that he would have said anything. He enjoyed being dominated like this. No, not just 'enjoyed'; he reveled in it. Basked in the warmth of the humiliation and subservience. He had pressured Joanne for months into dominating him. He showed her the internet stories and the imported magazines on femdom. She reluctantly came around to his way of thinking. Her domination over him started with simple housework and sex denial and then grew daily.

Well, weekly maybe. She was a slow learner, and he had a lot of information to introduce to her.

She was open to his suggestions, and after some begging and pleading on his part, and even followed some. He was her husband, after all, and she wanted to keep their marriage healthy if this is what it would take. When he felt the time was right, he offered her his slave contract, which gave everything he ever had to her. She had reluctantly signed it, as he asked, but still put limits on what she would do to fulfill his fantasies. He knew that if he kept after her, though, that she would eventually give in. Their love was that strong that she would make those sacrifices for him.

Things went just as Paul wanted. Slowly, but surely, he found ways to make Joanne realize her need to be the dominant in all aspects of their life. She soon grew proficient in handling all of their finances, because he showed her that he shouldn't be trusted with such important things. He wouldn't even open the mail, despite the letters that were addressed specifically to him alone. He was beneath such important activities.

He stripped the spare bedroom to the bare minimum, as was appropriate to a lowly man of his stature. The single closet held the few clothes that he need to be presentable around the house when she had guests. He let her know that, since he was her slave, he was only to be in her room when she saw fit. No pathetic slave should think himself worthy of maintaining a presence in his Mistress' bedroom, let alone her bed, unless she commanded him to be there. He telecommuted more and more, so that he had time to make the house perfect, and took an early retirement option when it was presented. He locked himself out of the computer, which served only as a distraction from his housecleaning duties. He would make her home life perfect.

Tonight he was promised something special, and his imagination went going wild with anticipation. The past two months had been in preparation for her big surprise. He was forbidden to go anywhere in the house but his bedroom or his bath. She saw to it that he received regular meals, but the suspense was becoming unbearable. Many times during the day he heard people talking downstairs and furniture being moved around. She spent more than one evening away from the house on her 'girl's nights out', as he called them. Maybe she had finally taken a lover or lovers. He could only hope for that humiliation.

He thought about trying to remove the covers he had put on his windows, if only to catch a glimpse of the strangers in his house, but knew that since he wouldn't question her actions, there was no reason other than idle curiosity to undermine the restriction he had put on himself.

Tonight, as always, he had dressed in his favorite outfit, and put on his best heels. He had bought them himself, online. Joanne was put off at first when he introduced her to this newest aspect of his fetish, but when he explained that it was all part of the game, she slowly came around to his way of thinking. He installed the hook himself, and explained to her about the armbinder and how it worked. He wanted to be a voyeur, he told her, and watch her masturbate through a hole he made in the door.

She was not amused at first, but he was her husband, after all. When he pursued the idea of a chastity cage, she gave in after only a few weeks. A knock on the front door snapped his wine-fogged mind back to reality. Joanne smiled at him, or rather in the direction of his peephole as he was not actually visible to her, and went naked to answer the door. His penis strained to achieve an erection at the thought of her naked with another person.

Paul heard voices but couldn't distinguish words, and resigned himself to waiting for her to return. What could it be? A big-cocked black man to take her anal cherry, or maybe her lesbian lover here to feminize him? His encased penis strained even more against it's bonds, and Paul savored the sweet erotic taste of the pain and forthcoming humiliation. Joanne re-entered the room, this time dressed in sweat pants and a T-shirt. Behind her was a thin, gawky man Paul thought he recognized. It was Jon, a programmer from Paul's company. Joanne suddenly turned and pulled down Jon's pants, then pushed the surprised man back onto the bed. She immediately put her mouth on Jon's cock and licked it until it's full five inches was hard, then proceeded to engulf the entire thing. He moaned as she worked him with an enthusiasm Paul knew was for his benefit and not Jon's, as he was truly humiliated by the sight of his wife fellating another man.

Jon gasped loudly as his hips bucked in orgasm, and Paul smiled as he watched his wife tongue clean another man's sexual tool. Joanne had done it all, for him! She had taken another man to her bed, and forced Paul to watch as she cuckolded him. The sensations of humiliation washed over him as a type of ecstasy, and Paul would have feinted if he were not held upright. If this was her surprise, then she was right; it was the most earth shattering thing she had done for their relationship yet.

"Did you like that?'

Jon nodded. "Very much, as always. Something I did make you think otherwise?"

"No, it's just that I've always wanted to do that," she said. She had attempted oral sex on Paul a few times, but he was too large for her to take more than a few inches. Besides, he always insisted that she come first, and afterwards she was too worn out from orgasm to return the favor. Not that Paul minded much. That was the way things should be: her pleasure was the goal of their relationship, he knew, and his should be nothing more than an afterthought, if that.

"Promise me you'll let me return the favor?"

Paul shivered in delight. His dream of a creampie dessert might come true tonight also. Even if it was from Jon.

"Yes, but not right now. We have a timetable to keep."

The couple got off the bed, and Jon pulled his pants back up. Paul had never liked the wimp; he lacked the physical stature of a real man, he felt. He watched as his wife reached under the bed and pulled out their suitcases, which seemed full by the way she was handling them. Jon picked them up and headed for the door. Jon called from the front hall as Joanne threw the last of her cosmetics into an overnight bag. "It looks like the movers got everything, down to the last thumbtack. What about the bedroom furniture? Are you gonna keep any of that?" "The furniture was bought by my first husband, and it really holds only memories of loneliness. We'll get new, I promise."

"How about the closet, hon? The dam's gates close tomorrow, and by Thursday this place will be thirty feet under. It's now or never."

"No, just some old baggage from my first marriage that I think I would rather just leave behind." She blew out the candles, and darkness filled the room.

She smiled when she heard the bell ringing. "Goodbye, Fortunato," she said, and closed the bedroom door.

*end