Sex Life Turned Upside Down

"I'm not sure how old you are," Heather replied after examining my body in the way women do, "but you've got one rockin' figure. Your sweet ass looks magnificent in those skin tight breeches. If I were a lesbian I'd be all over you."

All day I'd sort of wondered if Heather wasn't a lesbo trying to seduce me, but that comment put that concern to rest.

"I wish my husband appreciated my figure as much as you do," I said.

"That's men for you. They could be married to the most beautiful woman in the world, but after a couple of years they tire of her. Bastards. That's why I like to take refuge from men in the whole equestrian scene.

"I love the horses," Heather continued, "because they are more loving and loyal than any man will ever be. And I love the sexy leather smell of the saddles, boots, and reins. How super sexy the functional equestrian clothes are. But there's something I like even more."

"What's that?"

"That I have complete control over an animal that is so much larger and more powerful than I am."

Heather and I rode for about an hour and got to know each other better. We were both lucky in that we'd gotten new and competent subordinates at our respective business, so after a lot of hard years we finally had some free time for ourselves. So much time on that day that Heather and I decided to do lunch after riding.

We celebrated our new friendship with glasses of wine. Yes, we got a little smashed and thus were opening up more than two sober women would have.

"You mentioned that you had a little trouble with the man in your life," Heather said toward the end of our second glass. "I'm a little bit of an expert in the way men think and behave, so maybe I could help you. What's the problem?"

"Kevin ignores me a lot, rarely listens to what I say, and no longer compliments me on my appearance. Yet he wants me to be his little whore at the drop of a hat. Even though that hat hasn't been dropping very much lately, which has also been pissing me off."

"In other words he's a typically untrained male," laughed Heather. "Men are like horses in that they need to be trained. Actually, they're more like dogs in that they want to fuck everything, but like horses in that they are even more controllable."

"I know it's the wine talking, but tell me Heather, exactly what kind of therapy do you do with men? I mean you obviously have a lot of money for someone so young, and you don't get it from your family or a love interest. Yet you seem to know a lot about men. Something doesn't add up. Unless... "

"Unless what?" Heather asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"Unless -- and it's the wine talking again -- you're a high class escort."

We both burst out laughing. But after a bit Heather got serious.

"What I do couldn't be more opposite than what a high class escort does. Men don't use my body, I use theirs. And they pay me well to do it."

"Now you're talking in riddles. What exactly do you do?"

"I'm a dominatrix," Heather whispered after leaning in close.

I was the only one who laughed.

"Seriously, Heather."

"I am serious," she said. "Depending on the client, I use various forms of pain to bring my clients pleasure, or sometimes to improve the way they behave toward the woman in their life."

"You fuck these guys?"

"Never, ever."

"Hand jobs?"

"You're like most people Kathy, in that you think dominatrixes are prostitutes. No way. The men who come to see us aren't looking to fuck, they are looking to figuratively get fucked by us. They want me to dominate them, and that's exactly what I do. Sometimes in the beginning they don't obey, in which case I punish them, and more harshly than you might imagine. But once I've trained them they are like horses, and obey instinctively."

"And what after you've trained them?"

"That's where it gets really interesting, because that's when they want to prove their complete devotion to me."

"And how do they do that?"

"I make them do something they really, really don't want to do. It varies with every client, but their doing something they don't want to do confirms their total devotion to me. It's often something you need to work them up to over a period of a year or two, but it's very special when they submit completely."

I was dumbfounded by Heather's revelations, so things got a little awkward. Heather and I agreed to call it a day. But things hadn't gotten so awkward that we didn't agree to go horseback riding the following week.

CHAPTER THREE -- KATHY'S CURIOSITY GROWS

The conversation during our ride the next week was dominated by my curiosity about Heather's occupation.

"How long have you been doing this?" I asked.

"I'm 28 now and have been a pro dominatrix for 10 years. Although for the first three years I also worked as a submissive, because you can't know how to be a dominatrix without having been a sub.

"But the inklings of my interest in these things started much earlier," she continued. "When I was just a girl I remember that I loved playing cowboys and indians, because you were always either getting captured and tied up, or capturing somebody and tying them up. I didn't understand why I loved it, just that I did."

"When I was maybe 12, I began to be fascinated with the smell and feel of leather. Belts, purses, shoes, it didn't matter. But there was something about women's leather boots, the taller the better, that stirred me. From then on I couldn't wait to buy my first pair of thigh highs."

"But Heather, you hit these guys. Doesn't it bother you to inflict pain on another human?"

"Not at all. First of all, they willingly come to me for the pain, which for them releases tons of pleasurable endorfines. They compensate me well for it. Secondly, I don't have trouble hurting certain men after an experience I had when I was 17.

"Some boys I knew -- and really nice boys, too -- somehow got locked me into a bedroom of a vacant house and tied me up. You have to understand that I was drinking too much back then and was basically living on the streets. So I wasn't the purest girl.

"Then I heard the guys outside the bedroom door whispering about what they wanted to do with me. At first they talked about just stripping me naked. Then it was making me give them all blow jobs. They seemed to get hornier by the minute, until they finally decided they were all going to fuck me."

"Jesus, what happened?"

"By the time they got down to drawing straws to see who would get to rape me first, I'd managed to untie myself, open a ground floor window, and jump out. I ran like hell.

"I couldn't really tell my parents what happened, and I didn't feel safe calling the police, so I just kind of internalized my anger at men in general.

"So you hate men?"

"Not at all because they were representative of all men. Sure there are some men who are pure evil. I'd cut their dicks off in a second. But I know that most men are nice, at least if they get their rocks off often enough. If they don't, they they can manifest their sexual frustration in many ways, some of which aren't so nice.

"That's why I believe what dominatrixes such as myself and other sex worker do is a benefit to all of society. So yeah, I also strongly believe there ought to be legal whorehouses, where men can get the relief they need, and women who want can safely get fucked for money. European countries are so much more enlightened."

"I guess that makes sense," I replied. "And god knows there are times when I wish I could give my guy a nasty spanking rather than the big blow job he demands."

"Have you ever tried to spank him?"

"Hell no!" I laughed. "Kevin would grab the whip out of my hand and use it on me."

"Well, you'd have to seduce him first so he'd let you tie his hands behind his back. Then he couldn't take the whip from you."

"You don't know my Kevin. He's a big and strong dude, there is no way he'd stand still for a whipping."

"Oh, Kathy, Kathy, Kathy."

"What?"

"Like most females you have no idea how many men are dying to be dominated by their woman at least some of the time. I'd say half of them would love to be tied up, have clamps put on their nipples, be whipped, have a dildo shoved up their bum, and be made to jerk off in front of their woman."

"I don't believe that."

"It's my business. I'm an expert. I know that."

"Well, my Kevin wouldn't be part of that 50%. He's 6'4", 230 pounds of mostly macho muscle, and would never submit to a woman."

Heather fell strangely silent.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Does your Kevin have a tattoo of an anchor on his upper left arm?"

CHAPTER FOUR -- KATHY LEARNS ABOUT HER HUSBAND

"How do you know my Kevin has a tattoo of an anchor on his upper left arm? Wait! Don't tell me, Kevin has been to see you!?"

"I think we're getting into dangerous territory here. I don't want to betray the confidence a client entrusted in me."

"Fuck that, Heather! I have to know, he's my husband."

"Oh shit, I feel so bad doing this, and he'll have every reason to hate me."

"Tell me!"

"Kevin has been my best client for nearly 10 years."

"Ten years!!! Best client!!! No, no, no, no. This can't be. My Kevin has brown eyes...

"... and his sideburns are a little bit long?"

"Oh Jesus, that fucking pervert!"

"Hold on, Kathy, I know this comes as a big shock, but your Kevin isn't a pervert. He's a very nice guy with a hyper sex drive and a bit of a kink that doesn't hurt anyone. The girls at my academy love him because he's so nice, will go either way, and he tips so well."

"Go either way, what the hell does that mean?"

"Most of the men, about 70%, who come to see us want to be submissive to a woman. About 15% of them want to dominate a woman. You know, force her to strip, put clothespins on her nipples, hog tie her, that kind of thing."

"So my Kevin likes to do both?"

"Yes. He's one of the 15% who can enjoy being a top or a bottom. He can be a really fun dom, and he can be a really excellent sub, too."

"What the hell makes him so good?"

"Unlike most of the men, he's very relaxed, very verbal, and can dream up all kinds of really fun scenarios. And the thing that he gets off on is not so much getting hurt or hurting someone, but power exchange."

"Meaning?"

"It's the old cowboys and indians thing, but with much stronger sexual overtones."

"This is mind-boggling to me. But don't lie to me Heather, has he fucked you or any of the other girls."

"No and no. That's not what it's about. Although in a non-professional situation, I know that some of the girls would be more than happy to fuck him. There's even a sub who just turned 19 who is madly in love with him. And I won't lie to you, if he'd come on to me before I knew you, I'd do him at the drop of a hat."

"Thanks a lot!"

"Don't shoot the messenger, I'm just telling you the truth."

"But if Kevin and these guys don't cum and get a release, why don't they stay sexually frustrated?"

"Oh, our clients do cum, make no mistake about that. But they do it by either jerking off, having a vibrator put on their cock and balls while tied up, or by being forced to rub their cock and balls up against something that's both painful and pleasant at once. None of the girls touch client's genitals."

"And the men still cum."

"Do they ever! In their hand, on their chest, even on their face if I bend them way over. When I'm feeling particularly cruel, I make your Kevin cum onto a plate."

"That's it?"

"Oh no. After he's blown his wad and is no longer sexually excited, I make him lick it up."

"Not my Kevin!"

"Yes, your macho Kevin. Every last drop."

"I'm dumping that cheating, fucking pervert."

"He's not cheating, Heather. He's not in love with some other women. He's just getting a sexual itch that really needs to be scratched. But if you dump him, let me know, will you?"

"That cheating bastard!"

"Before you come to that conclusion, here's a little secret you'd might like to know. Many of my submissive men say they would love it if their girlfriends or wives could see them in their most humiliating state."

"You can't be serious. Why?"

"They want their wives to see them for who they really are, not who they pretend to be. To come out, so to speak, in their own particular way."

"Are you telling me that my Kevin has said that?"

"Yes, and on a number of occasions."

"What scenario would he like me to see him in?"

"If I was all dressed up in my highest dominatrix gear and leading him around by his cock and balls, while his nipples had painful clamps on them, and there was a big gag in his mouth. I'd make him lean down and sensuously kiss my boots while you watched closely, seeing how eager he was to submit to the power of the pussy."

"I do not like the idea of Kevin being a sissy."

"Kevin as sissy!? You don't know him at all. While it's true that a lot of male submissives are sissies, Kevin is certainly not one of them. I'd have nothing to do with him if he was. There are two parts to dominating Kevin. The first is forcing him to acknowledge the superiority, at least temporarily, of women. That the pussy rules."

"And the second?"

"The second is to see how much physical pain he can withstand in honor of the beautiful woman who is administering the pain. I've known a lot of men, and there aren't many who have been able to take as much pain as he has. He relishes the challenge. And yes, sometimes in the course of the greatest pain he's mentioned that he wished you were there, understood what was happening, and could be so proud of him."

It took me a couple of months to process all this. When I finally did, I called Heather and asked her if it might be possible for me to secretly watch her do a session with Kevin.

"That would be really exciting," Heather agreed, "but every three years I spend the summer backpacking in Europe. Mostly Italy. It's true the Italian men are momma's boys until they are 35, but damn are they good-looking. So I fuck a lot of men there, although I make sure they all wear double condoms."

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

CHAPTER FIVE -- KATHY LITERALLY GETS IN THE SWIM.

Much to my disappointment, Heather was soon gone for the summer. Her absence was agonizing to me because there was still so much I had to learn about her profession and my husband's kink.

But I continued to swim laps. The combination of the wild things Heather had shared with me and the constant presence of buff men in tiny Speedos awakened me from a sexual slumber of several years.

I started thinking about sex a lot more. I started getting horny. And since Kevin wasn't paying much attention to me because we'd been doing the same old same old for a long time, and because he had been getting wild side action at Heather's place, I started flirting with other guys. At 37. Why the hell not?

What really got the ball rolling was when the water pump went out at the pool where I did laps. A bunch of disgruntled guys were standing around, unhappy about being unable to get in their daily swimming fix.

Eric and Martin, two of the younger guys, gravitated toward me. In between grousing about the closed pool they checked me out as only young males can. I admit, I liked it. So they started giving me enough compliments to make me blush."

"No way you are over 29." That kind of stuff.

"You know, there's a pool at my place," I finally told them, perhaps overcome by their relentless flattery. "It's only 40-feet long, half the length of this pool, but it might be better than nothing."

"Let's do it!" they replied in unison.

Kevin was at work, so it was just the three of us in our pool. After a couple of laps, which were so short that it sort of made lap swimming a joke, the young guys started fooling around. Eric, the really buff guy, took his suit off without me realizing it. At least until he got out of the pool to dive back in, and I saw his big cock. I was shocked.

He and Martin thought that was so funny.

"Come on, Kathy, take your suit off, too," said Eric, "there's nobody here but the three of us. And we're practically family."

"Not on your life," I shouted back, nonetheless giggling at his youthful audacity.

"Come on," chimed in Martin, "you have the most beautiful body, and your boobs are like the cherries on the top of a sundae."

"You really like my boobs?" I said, a complete sucker for the flattery of males almost young enough to be my sons.

"I'm pretty sure," he said, "but I better take a closer look to be sure." He started swimming after me like a torpedo.

Laughing like crazy at the ridiculousness of the situation, I tried to swim away from Martin as fast as I could. I got to the ladder just in time, only to see Eric was standing on the top step, his majestic cock hanging down, blocking my way. He had shaved all around his cock and balls, and let me tell you, his package was a stimulating sight for a sex-starved woman.

Trapped between the two of them, they closed in on me.

Standing behind me in the shallow end, Martin firmly pulled my arms behind my back.

"Your top is way too big for you fabulous body, Kathy," he said. "Let's see what your boobs would look like if the suit was smaller."

As I struggled against him in vain, he pulled the front of the top down bit by bit.

I yelled at him to stop, but I was laughing so hard how were they supposed to take my objections seriously?

Then Martin moved my arms behind my back in such a way that my hands were forced onto his cock. He had an enormous erection! In a natural reaction, I squeezed his balls to try to get him to let go, but not hard enough to make him to stop. He thought it was funny. So did I.

By this time Martin had lowered my top so my nipples popped out. I was so embarrassed.

Martin wasn't embarrassed. He raved about my boobs. He told me they were way better than the small and hard boobs of girls his age.

"Don't lie to me and tell you that you'd rather be with a 37 year old woman than your 20 year old hard body girlfriends."

"Yes, we would," they replied in unison. "Those young girls are gorgeous, but they are such narcissists, and they don't know the first thing about giving blow jobs or fucking. It's all show and no go with those little bitches."

"Really?" I said dubiously.

"Yes, really. I'd rather have you any day of the week. Although I'd need to check your naked bum first just to be sure, so let's get your bottom off."

"Bastard!" I screamed through my laughter, and struggled to try and get the guys to stop. But they were so handsome, buff, and fun-loving that I didn't struggle very hard. In truth, I wanted them to pull my bottom off, and before I knew it, they had.

The one thing I remember is the sensation of water flowing between my thighs and around my pussy. Swimming naked really is different.

Having stripped me, the brazen young studs got out of the pool, leaving me in there naked, with no way to get to my suit or my towel.

"Well, I'm not getting out until you throw me my suit," I said.

"We can wait you out, because the water in your pool is a little on the cold side," said Martin.

"That's right," said Eric, getting to his feet and holding up his limp dick. "My cock would normally be three or four inches longer than it is now."

"Mine, too," said Martin. "And you should see them when they get hard."

I just laughed. I couldn't remember the last time I had as much fun as I was having with these two very naughty boys.

Things were at a stalemate, so the guys just lay out on towels in the sun while I shivered in the pool.

When it appeared the two guys had fallen asleep, I made a dash for my towel on the lawn.

I didn't make it. The guys had been playing possum, and gently tackled me to the grass before I got anywhere near the towel.

Eric grabbed one of my legs and Martin the other, then they pulled them apart. I won't lie, I didn't resist very much.