Taking Control

Discovery:

Donnie was sort of proud that he'd held back. It had been almost four months since she took her anger out on him in the bedroom, leading him upstairs, depriving him, restraining him and physically pushing him. They made love and had sex a little differently for the first couple of months after she rode his face like a toy. They were lightly combative in bed. Each time she was assertive, Donnie would submit. The next time, he would try to lead, but he found himself giving into this new role most of the time.

I don't really know, but I believe I'm a switch and would be just as happy being submissive as I am with being dominant. If we ever do walk through the door where my role turns submissive, it could become my fall back, ESPECIALLY if my wife Mel enjoys dominating. This story examines both that issue and my fantasy of her giving up control and trusting me to push her boundaries in some areas I believe she'd enjoy.

Tonight, Mel had lightly pushed Donnie while they were kissing, getting ready for bed and perhaps more. Donnie sank to the bed, face down in just his boxers. "I'm yours," he said.

"Really, Donnie?" she said in a disappointed and somewhat playful tone. "You're giving in that easily? Don't get me wrong; I enjoy taking a little aggression out on you now and then while we fuck. But as you should see, I'm not angry tonight."

He spun around, in a moment of clarity realizing that she was right. Maybe he'd been falling into this rut much as they had the routine sex of before. "I could go eat peanut butter off the knife and reuse it to make you a sandwich," he said playfully. He knew that was her ultimate pet peeve. They laughed and enjoyed a nice missionary position then slept.

Donnie awoke Saturday morning. Mel still slept naked beside him as he pulled up the results of the online survey they took together a while back. There they had found the shared desire for control reversal, as well as other small things that they had tried: toys and massages. But the main benefit had been that they did talk more about sex. The survey worked such that it only shared the topics that slightly or greatly interested you BOTH. Donnie scrolled through her results again, looking for something she hadn't marked as a definite no that may need his attention.

Mel rolled over, her eyes half open. She stretched like a cat, pushing the comforter off her and exposing her breasts just for a moment. Then she cinched the covers back up over her and crossed his chest with her arm, her face in the pillow. "Whatcha looking at?"

Without looking away from the phone, he hesitated before making THE statement. "Let's take the survey again."

"I don't think that's necessary," was Mel's initial response. Donnie did as Donnie does and clammed up, almost getting angry about it. He thought it was a brilliant idea. Then his mind flipped back to last night and her "disappointment" in his quick submission. A little more anger stirred. Mel began to slide out of bed, but Donnie grabbed her thigh and quickly pulled her back to him. Their hips lined up, and his cock swelled quickly.

"I gotta pee!" she said, but Donnie's grip didn't let her out. Instead, he pushed forward as he moved her under him and entered her quickly from behind. "Donnie!"

He didn't hear. He let his ire fuel him and felt Mel's struggle subside as he drove deep into her pussy. Her first elevated moan of discomfort settled into a deep sigh followed by deep breaths. He pulled back and slammed into her, causing the bed to rock and her head to push to the wall. Again and again, he used adrenaline and irritation to fuel his need to make her as uncomfortable as possible without actually hurting her.

"You Fucker!" she exclaimed cumming and almost peeing the bed at the same time. "Ohhh, You FUCKER!"

He was close behind her, filling her up with force unexpected given that he had climaxed hard the night before. He pulled out and bounced the head of his cock on her ass and threw the covers off of her as he walked naked past a half-dozen uncovered windows to his bathroom to shower. Cum that had flung onto his thigh cooled in the open air raising a grin on his face as he tested the water.

"Coffee?" Donnie offered when she returned from the shower. Mel looked at him with a combination of curiosity and annoyance. His phone was on the bed, not the end table where he had placed it before taking her earlier. When Donnie picked it up and opened it, the screen was on "His Survey." There she must have read all the answers that he submitted, not only the ones they both agreed on. It showed all of the things he was interested in trying.

"You're messed up, Donnie," she said with little emotion. He was both worried and curious where this was going to go. "No wonder you want me to retake it," she said, pointing at the phone. "What do you expect?"

He looked up then to see her wet hair, body wrapped in a towel, fresh from a good night and morning together. "I guess I expect conversation."

She smiled and nodded, an apparent assent, and they went about a usual Saturday.

Discussion & Decision:

He tried to get some things done. But in his head, Donnie ran through the things he listed as 'for sure' and 'maybe' on his survey. He wondered what to bring up, and when. He was able to clean out some of the basement but definitely wasn't as far along as he could have been. Mel was much more productive: she washed laundry, followed by yoga (in really hot yoga pants), and then did some cooking for a church dinner the next day.

"Let's go out for dinner," he settled on asking her as she cooked. "You don't need to start dinner when you finish with that stuff."

She didn't respond or stop working at first, just kept cutting vegetables. Donnie knew not to interrupt. That's never worked in all their years together. She heard him but kept chopping.

"Okay," he said sliding off the barstool at their island. "Just let me know what you think when you're finished."

"Let's go," Mel said and grabbed the keys. "I'll drive."

Confused, Donnie followed her to the car, and they sped away. They traveled in silence about ten miles down county road 28. A few times he glanced over at Mel, her gaze on the road. Her mouth sometimes pursed, sometimes fell slightly open, and a couple of times hung agape. Not once did she look over or start a conversation.

Just then he noticed she'd changed into some jeans and nice bra/cami/sweater combo that showed off her chest and sleek torso.

He was about to compliment her when it was like she sensed it and blurted, "Masturbate for me."

"What?!" Donnie said.

"Or how about we switch over and I masturbate for you?" Her gaze slid over to him and back to the road repeatedly. "I mean... Donnie, what the hell with that list?"

He paused. "Do you still want me to masturbate?" he asked, gaining his composure. He let the silence sit until she did the unexpected.

A loud, from-the-stomach laugh rolled out of Mel and somehow cleansed the situation.

They laughed together and had a normal conversation before arriving at the Grey Goose, a place in the middle of nowhere that specialized in burgers the size of steaks and steaks the size of roasts. They hand-battered their mozzarella sticks and mixed a mean authentic margarita.

The usual analyzing of their friends or work talk continued through getting drinks and dinner ordered. But once a few sips of a good Patron margarita were downed, Mel jumped into a pause in the conversation.

"I think we should take the survey again," she said, leaning toward him across the table. "I fear that not much will change on my end and my answers may be biased now that I've seen your list."

Donnie had carefully thought out how he was going to steer this conversation. Too often he'd melted to either her hesitation or prior bad experiences. He'd known for years he was playing it too much on her terms, too easy, too reserved. This time he was ready to respond.

"Why don't you masturbate?" he asked boldly. "You could be the only human on the planet that doesn't masturbate."

She stirred her drink, intently looking at him. "I don't like it, okay?"

"This is a good example of where you've been raised a certain way, and you've had things shut down for one reason or another," Donnie said very respectfully. "I want you to discover your body and how pleasurable married sex can be. Masturbating, alone or for your spouse, is okay."

"I've masturbated," Mel said. "Just not a lot."

"We don't have a lot of oral sex, either way," Donnie said. "You know I'd go down on you for hours."

"I like penetration," she quickly answered, proudly as always. "The other just tickles."

"Tickling is good. And it might be a precursor to other feelings and pleasures," he said convincingly. "I mean, remember getting tickled until you almost peed your pants as a kid? Who knows? Maybe you're holding back a sexual ocean."

"Say what?" she said.

"Some women, when they climax, squirt," he said. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure there was no one near enough to hear. "And it's not pee."

"Donnie!" she said, looking around in embarrassment.

"You've read the 50 Shades series," he said. "Any of that interesting? Worth at least considering?"

"That's fantasy," she said. "Fiction."

Donnie had to be careful not to give up the fact that he'd done "research" on this topic. "People do it, Mel. People do engage in BDSM. What you did to me was bordering on that."

She shifted in her chair, her face blushing from the high alcohol content of her drink and the content of their conversation. As she often did, Mel shut down and waited for Donnie's to go on. She didn't want to comment either way.

"How's this?" Donnie slid to the chair beside Mel and leaned closer to her. He spoke softly with a whisper sexual in nature. "I restrain you next time. You obey my commands. You must trust that I know what you need."

He slid back across from her and held her eyes. Once again, she nodded "yes."

In real life, my wife had a serious boyfriend in high school who commanded her to perform oral sex in many different ways, at many different times, manipulating her and guilting her into things. A few years into our marriage, as I was going at her from behind, she collapsed and broke down. She told me about it and that now she didn't like feeling controlled. I've respected that for 20 years now.

His Control:

On the ride home from dinner, they talked about just normal things, including the younger guy at work that kept flirting with Mel. She reached out and held Donnie's hand a couple of times, a simple act of acceptance that somehow sparked an erection.

Once home, Donnie stepped into the role as the dominant. Very gradually, he began giving mild directives, like "hang your coat there," and "have a seat." He led her to the island in the kitchen and poured a glass of wine for her without asking if she wanted one. Mel looked comfortable and present in what he was doing.

Sitting close beside her in the kitchen with his glass of wine in hand, he tangled his leg around hers. Then he leaned in and kissed her neck, then her lips. Donnie then verbally drew up the terms of a "contract" without writing anything down, keeping it simple. He needed something to remind her of when things pushed her past her comfort level.

The Contract:

"I need you to do exactly what I ask you to do and let me do what I want to do to you," Donnie said simply. "You have to let go and allow yourself to experience and learn new things, which means you'll be uncomfortable."

"Okay," Mel said. "But what if I want it to stop?"

"If there is pain," Donnie said, "just say "Stop, Sir." Both words."

"Stop, Sir?" she questioned a little. "Both words. Got it."

"Listen to my commands. I will repeat them if you are not performing them to my liking," I said sternly but with a grin. "I will discipline you with only two things. Withholding penetration and continuation of uncomfortable acts."

"What if I want it to stop?" she pushed back again.

"Only if it's painful and you say the two words," he responded.

I've always been curious about BDSM and mainly just the control aspect. I feel I can be dominant or submissive and even have been curious about experiencing some pain in discipline on the receiving end. As a dominant, though, I prefer the idea of holding pleasure off and pushing the threshold on simple sexual acts.

He had Mel repeat the terms of the verbal "contract." Then Donnie began to kiss her firmly, pushing her back a little. He aggressively folded her breasts and rubbed her thighs through her clothing. But he disengaged mid-kiss and pulled back.

It Begins:

"Now you," Donnie said. "Play with yourself over your clothes."

Mel gave him a look that asked, "Seriously?" She hesitated. Donnie didn't move and didn't repeat himself, just stared at her. Finally, she moved her hands up and over her breasts clumsily, flat-handed and more patting than anything sexy. Donnie was patient. He placed his hands over hers and molded them to her curves. He pushed her fingers to find her nipples over her shirt and bra. Then he released, and she continued on her own.

Her legs stirred a little and her eyes closed.

"Now under your shirt but over the bra," He commanded quietly.

She sat up straighter and followed his command, this time opening her eyes and watching him as she slid her hands up her torso, to her breasts and pressed, cupped and fingered her nipples. Again her eyes closed. The warmth between her legs began, and her instinct was to hop on Donnie and get to penetration as quickly as possible.

"Under the bra," Donnie said, continuing to direct her play.

Mel did it willingly, quickly. She even gave soft sighs and moans as her nipples met her fingers and her breasts slid from beneath her bra. Donnie commanded her to undo it and take off her shirt. She did, very seductively, until she realized the open kitchen window was to her left. At that point, she covered up with her hands and slid off the stool so that she was out of the window's line of sight.

"Mel," he said in a stern voice. "Go over to the window and face the neighbors' house, arms at your sides."

A scared look came over her. "Stop, Sir."

"It's not painful," Donnie said calmly. "The longer you wait, the longer you have to stand there."

Two women in their late twenties ran a daycare from their home next door. Several times they'd hosted large parties. But there were few lights on and no one outside on this late January day, so little real risk. Mel obeyed, standing still, arms down.

Donnie walked over and kissed her neck, slid his hands up to her breasts, and fondled them gently. He pressed his hips against hers from behind, pinning her to the counter where she couldn't move. Shadows in the neighbors' windows danced, and Mel jumped a little, trying to hide, but his weight kept her pinned there. The shadows made their way to the next set of windows, and soon they were figures outside, moving to their car.

"Close your eyes," he commanded. Mel relaxed as the happenings outside melted in the wetness and warmth between her legs. Donnie's kisses also moistened her neck, cheek, and then lips. He turned the front of her body away from any stray eyes, yet allowed for them to see her naked back as they made out in the kitchen. The car doors shut and the headlights flashed through the kitchen as they pulled away.

"Go to the bedroom now. Undress, lean back on three pillows, and play with yourself," Donnie said after releasing her. "Close your eyes while you do."

Masturbation

This time she turned quickly and went upstairs while Donnie sat at the island and waited. He timed out five minutes before venturing upstairs. Quietly he made his way up, the steps creaking a little, and walked into the lit room. He admired her body, a little tan from their Mexican vacation. She leaned back a bit with her legs splayed on the bed, her eyes closed. He'd always enjoyed watching her naked.

She had two fingers inside herself, moving them in and out, trying to get from them what she usually had from Donnie by now. He watched her, gauging how much pleasure she was or was not getting. Donnie noted that her breathing had quickened.

"Focus on your clit," he said and watched her fingers rub across the top. He let this go on a while to see what movements she would try. She gasped once, and he said, "Just like that, side to side and just inside the top edge."

Mel found a rhythm. Her response seemed much like when Donnie entered her at an upward angle, and his shaft slid over and pressed on her clit. As she continued, her breathing and sighs increased.

He slowly undressed, watching her pleasure herself. He piled his jeans, boxers, and shirt quietly and crawled on all fours between her legs. She sensed him and stopped.

"Keep going," he said and moved in to touch her pussy with his mouth. She gasped and rubbed as his mouth went down on her.

Oral on Her:

She was hot and wet. Her flavors exploded in Donnie's mouth as he covered her, lips on lips, even getting her finger for a second. He pushed his tongue low to the bottom and penetrated with it first. Then pursing his lips and shoving them inside, he rubbed her fingers and clit with his nose.

She began to giggle. "It tickles," she said as he worked on her. Now taking over for her fingers, Donnie sucked on her clit. She breathed "Stop," but he knew this wasn't painful. She squirmed and shifted her weight away from his relentless assault of tongue and face on her, but he held her in place. Then her hands went to his head and hair. He half-expected her to try to push him away. Instead, Mel pulled him tighter, as if she wanted his face to enter her. She laughed and giggled more, but now in enjoyment and without squirming away.

Mel's giggles turned to sighs; her laughter turned to moans. Donnie sucked hard on her clit and moved one hand up to penetrate her with two fingers, in and out. He removed his lips and added a third finger, gliding over her wet clit and as deep into her as he could go. As Donnie pushed them in and out, Mel began what almost sounded like a yell of pleasure. But she backed it down to a grunt and gasp. He got his fourth finger inside and pushed forward again. She yelled, "STOP, SIR!"

And he did.

She leaped up and tried to seize control, wanting Donnie's cock to plunge inside her right then. Her dominance of the past months kicked in, and she even offered up her backside to have him ride her from behind. It was tempting. Donnie was incredibly hard, listening to the music coming from her lips, the pleasure her mouth offered him. Her sensual syllables invited him to dive deep into her.

Instead, he stopped and watched her present her ass. Her face exuded pure desire, her body pulsed from the last 20 minutes. His very firm cock stood straight out and dangled some, bobbing with his pulse. Donnie moved closer, and Mel's eyes widened. The head pressed against her right ass cheek. She slid over, and it pressed forward against the heat of her cunt. She started to push backward, but his hands slid down to her thighs and stopped her. With one swift movement, he spun her to her back and straddled her stomach.

His cock was now pointing at her face, hovering over her breasts, his balls dangling above her stomach. He reached over for the neckties he'd left on the nightstand, compiled from a week's worth of work suits. Then he moved up her body until it lay erect between her breasts.

She spread her arms out, expecting Donnie to tie them to the headboard in some way. But instead, he brought both together and pulled her forward, waggling his knees down her naked sides until he got her sitting up.

"Put them behind your back," he commanded coldly, and she obeyed. He moved behind her on his knees, his erect penis straining toward her. Looping his necktie around her wrists, he then wrapped it around several times before tying the ends and pulling them tight. "Lay on your back, your head near the edge."