tagBDSMShe's in Charge Ch. 02

She's in Charge Ch. 02


The man on the computer screen was tightly encased in semi translucent pink plastic. Other than a bit of wiggle, he was completely immobilized. His face was obscured by a thick leather blindfold, nearly a mask, so it was impossible to determine whether his expression was filled with desperation, horror, or pure pleasure. Or maybe a pleasant mix of all three.

The woman was a very busty redhead, naked of everything except a shiny film from a generous coating of baby oil. I had to feel a bit sorry for the man behind the mask; he was missing quite the show. His cock had the faintest purplish hue; his balls were restrained tightly in a tiny leather belt of some sort. His member was as shiny as she was, and throbbing visibly on screen from her attentions. The woman sat astride his waist, the camera offering a pleasant view as she rubbed his very erect cock between her well lubed ass cheeks. She had been teasing the poor fellow for the duration of the video, about thirty minutes.

Next to me on the leather couch, my wife Natalie commented, "That looks nice. Maybe we should try that?"

I mumbled in response, not really an answer, my eyes glued to the screen. I grunted as she suddenly squeezed my cock tightly, her grip growing tighter. "It does look like fun," I answered quickly, and her grip loosened. I sighed in relief as she resumed a slow, regular stroking.

I glanced at her and smiled. She smiled back, and even after ten years together, that smile made me feel like melting. While I was completely naked next to her, she was fully dressed; a pair of skinny jeans; a faded t-shirt; the thick pink socks she liked to wear around the house. Her platinum hair has pulled back in a loose pony tail, a few stray bangs hanging free in front of her blue eyes. When she smiled at me, her full red lips turned upwards, slightly higher on one side, like a wry grin; her eyes sparkled, full of love and mischief, humor and sensuality. Her pale skin was like fine china, delicate and nearly like fresh snow in color.

My cock was coated in oil, not unlike the man on the screen. Natalie's hand moved ever so slowly up and down my shaft, and my hips rose and fell with her strokes. Slowly. Calmly. A measured pace. It felt like a deep massage, sensuous, but I knew desperation would not be far off. The visual stimulation on screen would only make it worse.

It was a Wednesday night. Only four days since I had let her tie me down and tease me until I thought I would cry, and here we were again. Not long after dinner, she had told me she wanted to show me something on the computer. She loaded up the video with a mischievous grin, and told me to strip.

On screen, the busty actress had moved down a bit; a close up showed the head of the man's penis rubbing against her well lubricated pussy. She was teasing him right at the entrance to her tunnel, letting just a millimeter in before pulling away. Natalie had done something similar to me on the weekend, so I knew exactly what he was feeling.

"Did you enjoy Saturday?" Natalie asked me.

"Of course!" I answered with enthusiasm. I really had. It had been amazing, like nothing I had ever felt. I told her as much, turning to face her as I spoke. She smiled back at me.

"Good, good," she sighed. "I really had fun. I liked teasing you like that. And having you so helpless... Wow, that was hot." She giggled suddenly. "I think I nearly came again when you were begging me."

I frowned, feigning hurt. "I'm glad my suffering turned you on so much."

She stopped stroking, and gave my cock a light slap. "Oh, don't be a baby. You loved it," She said, and resumed stroking. On screen, the blonde was furiously riding her captive; she was shouting insults at him, and ordering him not to cum. Occasionally, she would reach back to slap his balls. Her breasts were bouncing up and down hypnotically, splashing oil towards the camera. With one hand she was rapidly stroking her sex as she rode him.

"You loved not being able to cum till I said so, didn't you?" Natalie's eyes pinned me in place, and I could clearly see the mischief dancing there.

She was right again. It had been torture, I had wanted to cum more than I had ever wanted before; so badly, in fact, that my begging had been very real. I'm pretty sure I would have agreed to sign away my soul for a chance to cum. And yet, something about that experience had been amazing. And not just the fact that it was one of the most powerful orgasms I had ever felt. No, it was more than that. I just wasn't sure what.

I nodded hesitantly. I felt somehow embarrassed to admit I was turned on by the loss of control.

Her smile widened; the mischief in her eyes flared. "Let's play a game. I want you to promise not to cum without my permission till next weekend. A bit more than a week and a half." She grinned, and then her expression turned serious. She wagged a finger -coated in oil and my precum - in front of me; "That means no masturbating, mister!"

I nodded again. What was I doing? No masturbating? And she was in control? She could make me wait the whole week and a half to cum if she wanted to! What the hell was I agreeing to? In my lap, she was stroking again, faster. I felt that familiar boiling below, felt my balls start to tighten. She had me in her grip; literally. "Sounds like fun," I admitted. What the hell? I didn't want this! Did I?

"I like this part," she announced, and I turned my attention to the screen with a groan. She had slowed her pace again, and I felt my cock throbbing. I knew I wasn't far off.

On the computer, Busty had climbed off, sated. She was now perched next to the prisoner, and was rubbing his cock rapidly. As I watched, he arched up in his cocoon, and he came in powerful spurts. His seed splattered everywhere, and his cries were filled with pleasure. "Keep watching," Natalie whispered, and gave me a squeeze. Busty continued to stroke, milking every last drop; her second hand dropped on the head of his cock and started to rub. The man squirmed as pleasure turned to pain, his sensitive cock desperate for relief. He screamed, begging her to stop, as she continued to rub. I whimpered a bit at the man's plight, knowing what Natalie had in store.

"Promise me that I control when you cum," Natalie announced. Her hand was now motionless on my cock, and I thrust my hips trying to make it move just a bit. I nodded frantically, willing to promise anything. "Say it!" she demanded.

"I promise to not cum without permission till next weekend!" I cried.

"Good," she laughed. She let go of my cock and stood. "Get dressed and take out the trash"

"What? But..." I glanced pitifully at my cock.

"Oh, you don't have permission to cum tonight." She stuck her tongue out at me, and left the room.


After climbing into bed Wednesday night, Natalie had me give her oral sex. She had a good, strong orgasm. And true to her word, I did not get to cum. She didn't even touch me. I went to bed feeling horny and desperate, and sleep was a struggle. A hard on that would not go away made it tough to get comfortable; I guess I was enjoying myself.

Thursday morning before work she made me shower with her; I soaped her up, and my hands lingered on her breasts. She slapped them away, and warned me to keep it to bathing. She giggled and gave my hard on a squeeze before stepping out. Before I knew what she was doing, she had reached in and turned off the hot water; "Maybe that will cool you down," she laughed.

Work was rough Thursday. I found my mind wandering constantly, and I could barely keep my focus. Natalie, who only worked half-days, got home a little after lunch; she spent a good fifteen minutes sexting me pictures of her masturbating at home. Every time a new picture arrived, a little dirtier than the last, I felt myself growing harder. I couldn't help but rub myself a bit under the desk, careful to make sure no one would notice. She ended the conversation with a last text that said "See you when you get home!" I stared at that phone for at least another twenty minutes hoping for another text.

When I arrived home, other than the occasional teasing smile, she acted like nothing out of the ordinary was going on. She said nothing about the texts, or my promise. I spent the whole night looking at her expectantly; she responded by arching an eyebrow and looking as if she had no idea what I was after. She had me give her another orgasm right before bed, and I went to sleep feeling horny and unsatisfied. Again.

Friday morning, she announced we would be having a date night. I asked what that meant, and she refused to explain. She gave me a two minute blowjob, just enough to get me groaning, and left me with a gentle pat on my balls. "Meanie," I grumbled, and she laughed in response.

Friday turned out to be even worse than Thursday. I couldn't stop thinking about date night, and what she had planned for me. I couldn't wait to cum at last. The morning dragged, and I doubt I accomplished anything more than several hours spent staring off into space.

My phone buzzed after lunch, notifying me of a text. I was in the middle of a discussion with a colleague, but glanced at the screen just long enough to read "I'll bet you really want to cum by now." I probably blushed like a school girl as I made some lame excuse and ducked out, heading back to my desk. My phone buzzed again in my pocket as I went.

I slid into my chair at my cubicle, sinking low as if that would somehow make people fail to notice me, and pulled my phone out again. I cleared the first text, clearly from Natalie, and opened the second: "I think I'm gonna cum. Too bad you're not allowed."

"Oh man..." I muttered, knowing what was coming. Sure enough, my phone buzzed again almost immediately. A close up shots of her breasts, cradled in a lacy black brassiere. I felt myself growing hard already. A dozen or pictures followed, slowly revealing that she had donned lingerie just for the occasion; fishnets, the lacy bra from the first pic, matching panties and black garters. Then came a shot of her dildo on the bed; a shot of her panties, now on the floor; a close up of her hand over her pussy, but revealing nothing. Another handful of teasing shots followed, making it clear what she was doing with the dildo, but not really revealing anything really spicy. And then another of the dildo, back on the bed -glistening with juices. I nearly moaned out load at the thought.

Then she sent one last text to torture me for the afternoon; "Take off your underwear before you leave work; meet me in the driveway."

I could hardly believe the change in our sex lives; two weeks earlier, I had been the initiator, and I couldn't imagine Natalie taking the lead like this. Now, she was controlling my cock as if it were locked away. I hadn't cum in days, and wasn't allowed to till she let me. And tonight, she was planning a date night that would be a total surprise; I don't recall her ever planning a date night, let alone one with me completely in the dark! God, my imagination was running wild, as I tried to figure out what she had in store! It was going to be a long afternoon.


Five o'clock could not have come sooner. As soon as the offices around me began to clear out, I ducked into a small single bathroom, and followed Natalie's instructions. I stripped off my underwear, and put my thin trousers back on; glancing in the mirror, I blushed. The thin material didn't do much for my modesty. I slipped out, and practically ran to the car, hoping none of my coworkers would notice.

I drove home -actually, I assume I drove home because I pulled the car into our driveway; but I remember nothing of the drive, that's how distracted I was. Natalie must have been waiting; she came out the front door as soon as I pulled in.

She looked ravishing. She was wearing a silky black dress, held up by two stringy straps that left her shoulders mostly bare; a little low, it showed off a generous amount of milky skin on her upper chest, and just a teasing hint of cleavage. The hem ended mid-thigh, displaying a never-ending length of gorgeous legs, appearing even longer because of a pair of black stilettos. Her blond hair was down, with a bit of curl around her shoulders and neck. She had on just a brushing of makeup; dark red lipstick, and eyes painted in subtle shades of green. She was carrying a small black purse, glammed up with something sparkly; she didn't usually carry a purse, so my mind started working overtime again at what she could be planning.

She climbed into the car next to me and smiled mischievously. "Drive," she ordered. The giggle that followed somehow did nothing to diminish the authority that had been in her tone.

"Where?" I asked, turning to face her.

She scowled, reached over, and grabbed my cock through my pants; before I knew what she was up to, she was squeezing quite firmly, causing me to wince. "Drive. Got it," I mumbled, putting the car into reverse. Only when the car eased into motion did she relax her grip, though the hand stayed put, resting on the crotch of my pants.

I headed towards the nearest busy street, having no idea where we were going. When I pulled up to the traffic light at the main intersection, she announced, "Take us to Mario's." At the name of the restaurant, she gave my cock a bit of a gentle squeeze; under the warmth of her hand I was hard and throbbing.

Mario's was a nice Italian restaurant in town; not super pricey, but great food and an excellent atmosphere. It was one of my favorites in town, and often my restaurant of choice on special occasions like birthdays. I smiled; it would be a pleasant start to the night.

Natalie's hand started to move as I drove, gently at first, and then more firmly. I had to struggle to keep my eyes open and on the road.

She smiled, and asking in a husky voice, "You would do anything I asked to let you cum later tonight, wouldn't you?"

I nodded; my knuckles white on the steering wheel. She let go of me, and rested her hands on the armrests, turning to face the window. "Then tonight, I am going to order dinner for you like a slave," She said absently, watching the street slide past as I drove. She was trying to sound disinterested, but I could hear the amusement in her voice; I could imagine the smile that must be on her face as she looked away. "And I think you need to watch what you eat, mister. Salad and water for you, I think."

I was crushed. I was a meat and potatoes kind of guy; I couldn't even tell you the last time I ate a salad. Natalie looked back at me, took in my crestfallen face, and burst out with an amused laugh. "You protest?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No," I whispered, feeling embarrassed. Not only would she be ordering for me, but she was making me eat a salad instead of my favorite food at my favorite restaurant. And... I think I liked it. "That will be fine," I murmured, and she laughed in amusement.

We found a parking spot, and went in. At the front desk, Natalie announced the reservation that she must have made, and we were quickly seated. She made a point of taking both menu's, and seemed to take her time choosing, sending the waitress away a couple times.

"Are you ready to order, or would you like a bit more time?" the waitress asked with a smile. It was the third time she had asked.

Natalie set down the menu, and answered. "I'm ready thank you. I'll have a salad, ranch dressing, to start. Then I'll try the Chicken Penne. To drink, I'd love a Caesar." The waitress nodded, and turned to me. I blushed, and just stared back tongue-tied, not sure what to say. Natalie saved me by continuing with the order. "He'll have the new York strip, medium rare, and a baked potato, with the works please. And a rum and coke." She paused, looking thoughtful. "Better make it a double."

The waitress nodded, and left. I just turned my dumbfounded face to my wife, my jaw hanging slightly slack.

She giggled, and I felt her foot -- the shoe removed -- brush against my crotch. "Silly. Did you really think I was that mean? Awww, sweetie, I wouldn't do that; I love you."

I shook my head; it was something between a nod and a shake; I had no idea what the correct answer was. She laughed at me again, and asked how my day was.

I answered, keeping it brief. My job was not exactly exciting, and I had spent most of the day dreaming about tonight anyway; I told her that as well, and she look pleased. The entire time I talked, her foot was rubbing against my cock. I was throbbing, and could feel a tiny wet spot in my pants.

Dinner arrived, and as we started in, Natalie stared to talk, her voice quiet enough that no one could overhear. "I've been looking around a bit on the internet, about this slave business. It's pretty popular." I nodded, having seen my share of the bondage porn that was readily available. "Not just videos, like the one we watched. Stories, blogs, even instructions. Some of that stuff is waaaaay out there. Nothing I'd want to get into. But a lot of it... Well.... What do you think I was looking at when I sent you those texts the last two days?"

"Well," I answered hesitantly. I was a bit torn; I kind of wanted to hear what she had been looking at, as the thought of her looking at anything sexual on the net had always turned me on. On the other hand... Not knowing... Well, everyone loves a good surprise. "What did you find?" I had a hunch she wouldn't tell me anyways.

She grinned. "Well, not letting you order was one thing. But I couldn't do it, and ordered your favorite anyways. But don't worry; I have some ideas."

We finished up without saying much else, though she tossed the occasional amused glance my way. The plates were cleared away, and we both decided to have a second drink; she made mine a double again. The check was paid, and we sat back and enjoyed the atmosphere, and our drinks.

"Are trying to get me drunk?" I asked with a grin. "Don't forget I have to drive home."

She smiled back. "I'll be driving home. And yes, I am." Natalie giggled.

We sipped our drinks, and chatted about nothing in particular. She leaned forward. "Open your fly," she whispered, "and pull it out."

I choked on my drink. "Wh-What?" I stammered. "Here? Someone will see!"

She frowned at me, and her eyes flashed. "Do you want a chance to cum tonight? Then don't argue!" Her voice softened a bit, "Don't worry baby, no one can see. And the waitress isn't coming back."

I glanced around, nearly panicked. She was probably right; the lights were fairly dim, and the nearest occupied table a good dozen meters away; the waitress had collected her check and her tip, and so was unlikely to return. Still.... Could she be serious? The sudden hissed "Now!" from my wife confirmed it. Blushing furiously, my hands dropped below the table, and unzipped the fly of my trousers. My cock, already erect, needed little help to emerge from the new opening. It was pointing straight up under the table, and throbbing.

"Hands on the table" my wife whispered, and then took a drink. I complied; only a moment later I felt her bare foot on my cock, her toes curling around my shaft. She moved it slowly, stroking my up and down, pulling my erection down towards the floor. I struggled to keep quiet, my face a mask of shock and arousal, disbelief and concentration. I felt her other foot touch me, my cock now between her feet, and I gasped; I quickly looked around in embarrassment, but it seemed no one had heard. Across the table, Natalie giggled at my plight.

She moved faster, stroking up and down, from base to sensitive head. My breathing grew heavier, and Natalie locked eyes with me, her lips upturned in a grin. Faster. I could feel my balls bouncing softly, slapping against the leather upholstered chair. And just as suddenly, she stopped. Her feet were gone, and my erection was waving in the air like a flagpole. I cool feel my own wetness running down my cock, pooling in my pubic hair. Dripping onto my pants. My god, she had almost made me cum at a restaurant!

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