tagBDSMFixing Their Marriage

Fixing Their Marriage


This story is a little lightweight for the BDSM category - the action is light, friendly and completely consensual. However, it's all about a D/s relationship so BDSM is where it belongs. Enjoy!


"Don't you dare come! Don't you dare, not until I say so!"

Bernie rode her husband's body furiously, thrusting her hips down, forcing his prick inside her. "I want to feel you, every inch of you, all the way in, good and hard, right until I'm ready. Shoot your load too early and I'll shoot you, understood?"

Andy merely nodded. The fact that his mouth was full of her used silk panties prevented much else. Mind you, holding back was not going to be easy. He'd forgotten that sex could be this good. He'd forgotten all about this particular game they used to play; for far, far too long their sex life had been plain, vanilla and, worse than that, almost non-existent.

It would be the understatement of the year to say that he was astounded when, out of the blue, just as he was settling down to Match of the Day, Bernie had walked into the lounge. She'd stood by the door, struck a pose and let her long satin gown fall open to reveal the tightly laced black leather basque she wore underneath. Dangling from her hand was the riding crop they had bought along with the basque.

It all dated back to so many years ago. A little role play game they had developed back when they had first started dating, nothing too heavy, nothing too kinky; the crop was more for show than anything else. Like so many things it had faded into disuse, another thing they never got around to, another memory stuffed in the back of an overflowing cupboard.

That didn't mean it was forgotten; as soon as he had seen her he was straight into role. His prick had leapt to attention, to hell with the footie, the telly was switched off and, at her command, he got down on his knees and kissed the toes of her stiletto heeled boots.

She had ordered him to strip naked and crawl to the bedroom where he found she had already fastened silk scarves to the corners of the bed. She had laid him out, spread-eagled, and, starting with his wrists, tied off the scarves, knotting them tight, not tight enough to hurt but tight enough to show she meant business. This done she had taken off her panties, sodden from her excitement, scrunched them up and pushed them into his mouth as a gag.

For a while she had merely teased him, walking around the bed, alternately poking and stroking him with the riding crop, all the while mocking his vulnerability, mocking his rock-hard prick and mocking his inability to do anything about it.

At last, still holding the crop, she had climbed up onto the bed and knelt across him, straddling his groin. Reaching down she had taken his prick in her hands, lowered her self upon him, and, in one smooth movement, guided it into her warm, wet slit.

At first she had hardly moved, just knelt upright, her full weight pressing down on him, forcing him deep, deep inside her. She held the crop between her hands, flexing it menacingly as she looked him straight in the eye with pure contempt and told him how useless he was.

He knew that these insults, and the implied threat of the riding crop, were all just part of the game, that, in truth, she loved him dearly, would never really hurt him and didn't mean a word of what she said. However, part of him wasn't just playing along, part of him really was the submissive slave, and, for that part, her words cut deeply and, curiously, thrilled him to the core. Not coming was the hardest thing to do.

Then she leant forward and, pinning him to the bed with the crop held across his shoulders, started to rock her hips back and forth, back and forth.

"If you come, if you're so pathetically short on self-control that you come before I tell you to, then I'll whip you so hard you won't sit down for a week. Do you understand, worm?" she all but snarled into his face. There was no disguising the intensity of her words, or her actions, as she ground herself into him, forcing him deeper, deeper inside. "This is about my pleasure and my pleasure alone. If you do anything to ruin it, anything at all then I swear you'll live to regret it. Do you understand?"

Again, Andy just nodded.

For, in truth, he loved this game, he loved the lack of control and, ironically, he loved fighting his need to come, fighting to hold back, to restrain himself. He loved this sense of being used, of putting Bernie's pleasure before his own, knowing that, in the end, his own would be all the better for it.

It wasn't long before he could sense that Bernie was approaching her orgasm. There was an ever-increasing urgency in the way she was moving; each thrust of her hips was harder, firmer. Andy was being ridden and ridden hard. His sole task to hold back, to hold on, to stay the course. Bernie's breathing became shallow, her words fragmented, her actions more urgent, faster, harder, harder...

"Now! Now! Come for me worm! Come! Come! Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes!!"

And that that was more than enough to tip Andy over the edge. As Bernie thrust her hips down onto him so he responded by thrusting back and thrilling to the blissful release of pumping his sperm deep, deep inside her. For maybe half a dozen strokes they rode the storm together before Bernie collapsed forward onto him, gasping for breath.

For a while they just lay there. Andy still couldn't move but he didn't want to. He loved feeling the weight of Bernie's body lying on top of him, the feeling of completeness of having been ridden and ridden well. He'd forgotten, so, so forgotten, just how good their lovemaking could be. Bernie was the best, the best of the best and he loved her more than anything.

"I do hope that was as good for you as it was for me," Bernie whispered in his ear.

"Better, better than anything," Andy replied once he had spat her panties out of his mouth. "Can I ask... it's been ages... what made you...?"

"What made me dig out the leather basque? I just thought it was about time I wore it again and, judging by your reaction, I was right. Hun, about that..." Bernie snuggled a little closer, "I'm sure you'll agree it's been far, far too long since we made love like this. When was the last time we had a real session, anything more than a quick grope in the dark? Blowed if I can remember. I'm not saying it's anyone's fault or anything but I've missed the intimacy and I'm sure you have as well."

"God, yes, it's been ages, simply ages."

"And we mustn't let it be ages until the next time. The thing is, I have a plan."

"Is it a cunning and devious plan?"

"Very cunning and ever so devious."

"And do I get to find out what it is?"

"Not yet. That's what makes it cunning and devious."


"Don't be such a baby, you'll spoil the fun. Do you trust me?" Bernie kissed Andy gently on the tip of his nose.

"Of course I do."

"Completely and utterly?"

"Completely and utterly."

"OK, here's the deal. On the plus side, I can promise you lots of sex. Lots and lots of sex. Lots of fun sex, lots of cuddly sex, lots of kinky sex. I'd forgotten how good it felt to wear this corset and you can be sure I'm going to be wearing it again. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Oh, yes please! But, if that's the plus side, then what's the down side?"

"It's not exactly a down side but it is very much part of the deal. You know how, when we're playing, 'worm' isn't allowed to come without Ma'am's specific permission. I want that to spill over into real life. From now on you're not allowed to come unless I tell you to."


"It's part of the plan; an important part of the plan. Unless you agree the whole thing won't work."

"What whole thing?"

"The whole thing I'm talking about. Think of it this way: I can guarantee you'll get lots and lots mind-blowing sex on my terms or if you don't trust me enough to agree to that, we can just go back to the boring, non-existent sex life we used to have."

"It just seems a little extreme."

"The state of our sex life has become a little extreme and I think it needs extreme measures to fix it. Come on, we both know you've got a submissive streak a mile wide. I'm willing to bet you'll enjoy it. Let's try it for a week or so and, if you really can't handle it then it's back to how it was; you with your right hand, me with my vibrator and never the twain shall meet."


"Yes, my vibrator. Well, I wasn't getting any from you, was I? And don't try to tell me you weren't sneaking away for a quick wank half the time. It's your right hand on your terms or me on mine, that's the choice."

"If you put it like that then I've got to say yes, haven't I?"

"Yes you do and I want to hear you say it." Bernie knelt up, propping herself up with her hands on his shoulders. She looked him straight in the eye. "Now repeat after me - I, Andy, hereby solemnly promise that I will not achieve orgasm, nor attempt to achieve orgasm, unless given direct and specific permission by my wife and goddess, Bernie."

"I, Andy, hereby solemnly promise that I will not achieve orgasm or attempt to achieve orgasm, unless given direct and specific permission by my wife and goddess, Bernie."

"Good boy. In return I promise you won't regret it. Now it feels to me as if someone is getting hard again."

Andy's prick had, indeed, stiffened once again. Although he wasn't quite ready to admit it, the thought of Bernie being in control of his orgasms had sparked something inside him. That, plus the promise of lots and lots of kinky sex... his protests were more about show than anything else.

By flexing the muscles of her gluteus maximus Bernie gently rocked back and forth against Andy and, in no time, his prick was, once again, completely hard inside her. And the harder he became the more she could move. In no time this gentle rocking was something more urgent, more powerful, more intense. Whilst this second session lacked the urgency of the first it certainly had all the passion. Andy looked up at Bernie who was looking back down at him with a curious smile on her face. He knew there was more to her plan than she had let on but, if it was going to end up with more sex like this then there would be no objections from his side.

Bernie was gradually increasing the pace, increasing the intensity. Despite having come only a short while earlier Andy could feel himself nearing the edge. God, it felt so good with Bernie on top, feeling his prick deep inside her, being ridden, getting closer, closer, closer...

"And that's enough to be getting on with." Bernie stopped and sat upright.


"Did I not say that it's down to me whether you're allowed to come or not?"

"Yes, but..."

"I do hope I'm not hearing any complaints. Barely five minutes in and already you're moaning about the agreement, the one you freely entered into. I was going to play for a little longer but, if that's the way you're going to be then I've had enough." She knelt up, dismounted, shuffled off the bed and started to untie the scarf around his right-hand wrist.

"I'm going to the bathroom to clean up. By the time I come back I want the room tidied and you lying quietly in a freshly made bed. And if you think you can tug one off as soon as my back is turned let me remind you of the promise you made. Break that and the whole deal is off. Break that promise and tugging yourself off will be all that's left of your sex life. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Excellent! Love you." and, with that, she left for the bathroom.

As soon as she closed the bedroom door Andy's hand reached for his prick. Bernie had left him high and dry and it would be so easy just to... and then he thought better of it. He had made a promise and keeping it was important to him. Furthermore, his conscience was backed up by the very real fear of what Bernie would say if she returned and caught him at it.

When she did return the basque and stockings had been replaced by a mid-thigh chemise in a dark burgundy. Whilst not as obviously erotic as a black leather basque Andy thought it made her look really sexy in a suave, sophisticated way. She pulled back the covers and slipped into bed and cuddled up beside him. Her hand reached out, found his still stiff prick, and gently caressed it.

"Have you been a good boy?"

"Of course."

"And do you like me doing this?"

"Oh, yes, please!"

"Even though you know you're not going to be allowed to come?"

"Even then. Seriously, Bernie, I'd forgotten what a wonderful sexy woman you can be. It was the luckiest day of my life the day I met you."

"It wasn't a complete disaster for me, either."

"Can I ask a question?"

"Of course you can."

"If I'm not allowed to come until you say so then how long are you going to make me wait?"

"I was thinking in terms of next weekend but, to a certain extent, it's down to you."

"Down to me? How do you mean?"

"Think about it. A husband who is kind and courteous and shows proper respect is more likely to be rewarded with an orgasm than a grumpy old sod who does bugger all but sit around and mope. As the old song goes, when your good to Mama, Mama's good to you."

"Does that make you Mama Moreton from Chicago?"

"Might do. Now, shh and let me play."


The next morning was Sunday and, like many other childless couples, a chance for a lie in. Andy stirred gently, allowing himself to drift along in that half-awake, half asleep state. He hardly moved as Bernie stirred beside him and cuddled up into the crook of his arm, and his prick was the only part that moved when her hand reached down between his thighs. It felt good, so good, to just drift along luxuriating in the wonderful feelings coming from his groin. As he lay there he mulled over the previous night's events. Bernie had promised lots more sex and, lo and behold, here it was. He rolled towards her so as to return the favour.

Immediately Bernie stopped and moved away from him.

"Uh, huh. You're not allowed to move."

"But honey, you've got me all worked up."

"That's the point. I like having you all worked up - especially when you're not allowed to do anything about it. No orgasms until next weekend, remember? Now, I think I need some coffee before I go back to playing with the little man."

"Coffee? Oh, yes, please. I'll have one if your making."

"Tell me, Andy dearest, do you want the sexiest Sunday ever or do you want it all to stop right here, right now?"

"Sexy Sunday, please."

"Then I suggest you start by not being stupid and realising that sexy Sundays only happen to good little boys who bring their wives coffee in bed."

"Ah, yes, sorry. I'll just...," Andy, still naked from the previous night, got out of bed and reached for his dressing gown off the back of the door."

"Oh, no," Bernie said pointedly. "I like having you naked. I like seeing that prick of yours stiff and proud. What's more, I want to see that prick of yours still stiff and proud when you return. If you can't keep it up then I'm not playing."

"But... if I'm naked in the kitchen then Cassie might see me."

"And your point is? Come along, we haven't got all morning. The longer you take over coffee the less time there will be for stroking your prick. Off you go."

Feeling slightly exasperated Andy made his way downstairs. As he filled the kettle and sorted out the coffee mugs he was more than aware that, out of the kitchen window, he could see directly into the kitchen of the neighbouring house. That wasn't the problem, the problem was that their neighbour, Cassie, should she be in her kitchen, could, and would, look right back.

Cassie, single since her recent divorce, had moved in next door about a year ago and, almost immediately, she and Bernie had become firm friends. Andy rather fancied her and, after a few drinks, their relationship could become quite flirty, although, of course, neither would dream of doing anything about it. Flirty or not, Andy didn't fancy giving her an eyeful especially as his prick was still at half mast and flopping about in front of him.

As he waited for the kettle to boil he thought about Bernie's demand that he return still fully aroused. For that reason alone, it would be best to have a little play, keep himself stiff. He leant against the kitchen table and gently stroked back and forth, back and forth.

He was still in two minds about this new regime that Bernie had started. Having to wait a week; that was going to be tough; he was not sure he would be able to make it. On the other hand, this sudden upturn in their sex life was to be welcomed with open arms. Never before had he been woken by Bernie's hand around his prick and that was definitely something he could get used to.

The kettle boiled, he filled the cups and holding them in one hand while keeping his prick stiff with the other, he returned to the bedroom.

"Excellent. Put mine on the bedside table and then I want you sat, cross legged, at the foot of the bed."

Anxious to get back to their sex games Andy put down the coffee cups and climbed onto the bed. Bernie slipped her right leg out from under the covers and reached out, resting the soul of her right foot against his prick. Gently she moved her foot side to side, rolling his prick against his tummy.

"So, did you give Cassie an eyeful of your manly body?"

"No, she wasn't around."

"So you looked to check then."

"Well, yeah..."

"Of course, if you'd mended the blind like you've been promising all these months then there wouldn't have been a problem."

"I know, I know, I'll do it..."

"It seems to me," Bernie cut across him, "that, if you want to keep in my good books, and, believe me, you do, then finally getting around to fixing the blind might be a good start."

Andy started to realise just what he'd got himself into. It was clear that Bernie now had something she could hold over him - and she clearly intended to use it. On the other hand, he had been promising to fix the blind for months, or was it years and, if that was the price of feeling Bernie's foot playing with his prick then there was no contest.

"I'll nip down to B&Q before lunch."

"Good idea. I'll come with you and, afterwards we can go on to that new garden centre, you know, the one in Cropper Road. Cassie tells me the café is really good. You can buy me lunch there."

So it was that, an hour or so later, they were wandering the aisles of B&Q looking for the right screws to fix the kitchen blind. Or, at least, Andy was looking for screws. Bernie had other ideas. She led Andy down the security aisle until she found what she was after.

"Here we are. This will do. What are we looking at, two fifty a metre? Let's have four metres then."

"Excuse me asking but what do you want four metres of chain for?"

"You'll find out soon enough. We need some of these padlocks as well. Not those, the small ones. Now, tell me, do you have anything we can use to cut the chain when we get home or do we need to buy that as well?"

"I've got some pliers but we'd be better off with something like this." Andy indicated the cutters provided to cut the chain off the reel.

"So where do we find those?"

As they took their purchases to the checkouts Andy was somewhat apprehensive. Bernie's coyness about why she wanted four metres of chain, along with no less than a dozen padlocks, was somewhat ominous. When added to the playful twinkle in her eye it was doubly ominous.

After B&Q they stopped for lunch at the garden centre café which was, as Cassie had suggested, rather good and reasonably priced. Once fed they had a mooch around the plants but nothing caught their eye. However, alongside the garden centre was a pet store and, as soon as she saw it, Bernie all but dragged Andy inside. His heart sunk as they made their way to a display of dog collars.

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