The Awakening

(This story is from an idea sent to me by someone who messaged me. I have never been confident with the notion of dominance in relationships, and it is not something I have experienced - however, I'm never one to shy away, so I did some research and tried my best. It may not please those who enjoy the whole sub/dom lifestyle, but I hope I've managed to make it enjoyable. I even resisted the temptation to give it a happy ending!)

Punching above his Weight

Julian had always been told that he was 'punching above his weight' when he married Roxanne. He always believed it too. She was a massively impressive, eye-catching woman, standing almost six feet tall in bare feet and truly huge in heels, which she preferred. She played hockey for the County and was a star of the women's rugby team. She trained several times a week and went swimming and to the gym.

Despite all this, she retained her femininity. Her workouts were not designed to build muscle, but to tone, and her figure was superb, from her C cup breasts, to her flat, narrow waist, to the gentle swell of her hips and into her endless, perfect legs. There was something there for every taste.

Nature might have balanced this by giving her a face like a bag of spanners, but no. She had almond-shaped, radiant blue eyes, high cheek-bones, a straight, aquiline nose, full, sensual lips and a firm chin. Her teeth were even and brilliant white, and her hair blonde, sweeping across her shoulders in luxurious waves.

She could almost have been a supermodel, were it not for her large breasts and wide hips - and these simply increased her appeal to the male of the species - and plenty of females too.

Julian was decidedly average. He was five feet eight tall, average build with light brown hair and an instantly forgettable face.

When they first got together, she had made all the running. He wondered if some of his mates were going to jump out and tell him it was all a cruel prank. But it wasn't.

They met in a pub, and she had taken him to her home. Once there, she had stripped him naked and directed him in how to pleasure her. It involved him spending a lot of time with his head between her legs - until the retaining tendon of his tongue actually hurt - and lying back as she rode him vigorously, rubbing her clitoris as she did so.

After that, their relationship developed - Roxanne taking decisions, Julian enjoying the fact that he did not have to think. Indeed, the only place where he actually did any thinking was at work, as a software designer. It was incredibly well-paid work too, especially as he was so good at it.

Roxanne controlled their sex life too. He never mounted her, or took her doggy-style. She bound him, spanked him, made him watch as she masturbated with impressively proportioned sex-toys. She would not allow him to orgasm, again, using any delaying tactic available. Sometimes, she would make him strip naked and be her 'slave'.

Still, Julian was content. His mother had been domineering, and he had grown up submissive. He had no problem allowing Roxanne to dominate him. So much easier than having to do all those things he had to with other women - all that groping, wanting permission to touch their tits, or make his way into their knickers. Then, eventually, deciding on sexual positions and always worrying if it was what they liked. Roxanne knew what she liked, and took it.

His only slight objection had come when she had appeared wearing a strap-on. It was not huge, but he had never been anally penetrated. When he voiced his objection, she had laughed incredulously. "Seriously? You're worried about this? Be a man for once. Bend over."

And he had. She had applied lubricant and pushed up his arse, riding him and enjoying the rubbing against her clitoris. In fact, he rather liked it. The stimulation of his prostate felt good, and when he was finally allowed to cum, it was explosive.

She began to penetrate him more frequently, using vibrators, dildos and larger strap-ons, as well as her fingers. She said she wanted to 'fist' him, but his terrified reaction had deterred her, although she laughed openly.

Their friends had been amazed when they announced that they were going to marry. In fact, she had told him they were, and he acquiesced, despite being uncertain if it was what he wanted. In truth, she spent more of his money than he wanted her to, and while her income as a personal trainer was good, he still seemed to pick up the majority of bills. Still, he could afford it.

Their marriage stayed on track for a while, but after six months, things started to happen which made him uncomfortable. Roxanne began to take on male clients to train, and she would often come home discussing their physiques. She made them sound like gods - tall, muscular - everything that Julian was not. It made him nervous, but he rationalised that she was naturally dominant, and these macho, alpha-males would not appeal to her - especially as she always seemed to want to use him for her sexual pleasure when she got home.

One afternoon, Roxanne arrived home after one of her training sessions. Julian was cooking.

"Take your clothes off," she ordered.

Dutifully, he stripped while she watched. She looked at his body. He had some muscle, but not much. There was a definite paunch around his belly. His cock was semi-hard. Not quite his usual six inches when fully erect, but getting there.

She walked around him, looking at his body, inspecting him, seeking deficiencies - of which there were many. He swallowed, wondering what she had in mind.

Suddenly, she slapped his backside - hard - leaving a red handprint on the flaccid flesh. She walked in front, looked at his cock and slapped it viciously, making him whimper. Still he stood and waited for her command.

"Go to the bedroom and lie on the bed."

He did as he was directed, and waited.

After a good five minutes, Roxanne appeared. She took each of his arms, and attached them to restraints, which ran under the mattress. Then she pulled his legs apart and secured his ankles. She looked at him.

"Do you know why I married you?" He shook his head. "I married you, because I spent my entire life being bullied. I was the tall, gawky kid at school, who was clumsy and unco-ordinated. At home, my dad was six and a half feet tall and built like a brick shithouse. He hated me because I wasn't a boy. Not until I found I was good at sport did I think I might actually have some worth. Then I trained. I worked myself into the ground until my body was good.

"Still my dad hated me. When mum left, he made me his slave. Made me do everything. If I didn't, he hit me. I hated him. I walked out and never looked back.

"Then I met you. I knew you someone who I could control. Someone who'd worship me. And now I'm the one in charge."

She slipped off her body-hugging leggings. She wore nothing underneath. Her waxed skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. Julian looked between her legs, and saw the neat cleft which he so desperately wanted.

Roxanne reached for her bag and took out a thin rope. She crawled up the bed, and placed it over his penis and around his balls, pulling it tight and knotting it.

He drew a sharp breath. He had married her for similar reasons, oddly. As a child, his mother had dominated him. Not sexually, but in every other way. Until the day she died (about six weeks before he met Roxanne), he had been at her beck and call. Whatever she asked, he did - no matter how bizarre - and some requests had been very bizarre.

Roxanne had been his first 'girlfriend', and he found it 'comforting' that she treated him like his mother - with the added bonus that she offered sex. The fact was, he liked being dominated.

Roxanne took his engorged cock in hand. She stroked it gently. The string around the base would stop him cumming too soon. She applied lubricant and began to wank him vigorously. Most men would have cum, but Julian's tied cock prevented him.

There was, however, only so long he could hold back, and he felt his cum begin to rise. Then she stopped. She released him and watched as his cock twitched, waiting for it to stop before she started again. This time she jerked rapidly, focusing on his sensitive head, and as he was about to ejaculate, she released him again.

A tear left his eye. He was desperate. He needed to finish, but the pressure on the base of his genitals, and her refusal to keep going as he was on the verge prevented it.

"Do you want to cum?" She asked.

"Yes... yes... oh god, yes."

She made him beg. Each time she would jerk him to within a sperm's head of exploding, then stop, leaving him twitching and desperate, his balls blue.

"Sometimes," she said, "I want more than this. I want fucking by a real man. And I want you to watch."

His eyes bulged. He had never considered such a thing. Could he really watch another man be treated like this, when it should be him? He shook his head.

"Fine. I'll be back in an hour." He gasped, not believing that she could just leave him here, so desperate. But he knew she could. She had left him before, and returned later, smiling, to finish him off. This time, though, he needed to finish. Plus his balls were painful.

"No." He gasped. "Come back."

She smiled, knowing she would get her own way.

"You're good with that? I fuck another man while you watch?"

He nodded, despite his reluctance. His mother had done similar things. If other children were around, she would treat them kindly, lovingly. She would indulge them with hugs and sweets, while telling them that Julian had been naughty and didn't deserve these things. Obviously, that was not sexual, but could it feel so different?

Back then, he had hated it and loved it in equal measure. Hated the unfairness, but loved the idea that his mother could be like this. Perhaps it would be the same with his wife? Seeing her differently would make him feel good. Or would she treat this other person like she treated him? Either way, there were positives.

"You can sit in the corner and jerk off if you like," she informed him. He smiled gratefully. "Or maybe we'll let you get involved - join in with us." He perked up. That sounded amazing. He had never really considered being with another man, but the thought was quite appealing. He nodded vigorously.

"Well then. Let's finish you off, shall we?"

She unfastened the binding around his member and placed her hand around his shaft. Then, because she still wanted to assert her dominance, she took her other hand and placed her thumb over the hole where his cum would emerge.

She jerked him quickly, and he felt his orgasm, knew he should be firing strings of semen into the air - but he couldn't. He felt pressure build in the end of his cock. Surely the head would explode. His member pulsed and throbbed as he came, but instead of the joy of release, he was terrified. So much cum and nowhere for it to go.

He looked down and saw her grinning back at him, enjoying his fear. A dribble slipped down his erection, and he gave a little cry. So wrong that she did this - yet so good.

She moved his cock to the side, reaching with her other hand, and producing a small cup. She aimed the head of his cock into the cup, then released.

He exploded. His cum short forth and huge splashes, like a shaken bottle of beer. His relief that she had allowed him to cum was almost greater than the pleasure of his orgasm - enhanced it, if possible.

She giggled again. "There. Is that better? You still didn't produce all that much. Look." She held up the cup that she had milked him into. It was half full, and he assumed that was quite a typical amount. He had watched porn, and while some came copiously, he had always felt that more typical men produced this sort of quantity.

She shuffled up the bed on her knees. "Here. Enjoy." She placed the cup on his lip, and forced them open with her fingers. Smiling, she poured his still-warm semen into his mouth, making sure it all went in. Then she pushed her hand under his chin, ensuring that he could not spit it out.

She waited until he had swallowed, then got off the bed.

"Right. My turn now. You go downstairs and make dinner while I play with my toys."

She waited while he dressed, and did not begin to strip until he had left the room. It was odd, he thought. She had no inhibitions about being naked with him, but sometimes preferred to stay dressed while she controlled him. Another bit of dominance.

"Love you," she shouted as he went downstairs.

Oddly, he believed her. The sexual dominance was part of showing love - and he liked it. He had never wanted to be in control. He preferred someone telling him how to behave and taking charge. It was the story of his life. He had even looked online to see if he was genuinely a freak because of that, but there was plenty of femdom porn, plenty of stories about dominant women and the men who loved them. He was certainly not a freak - just kinky.

Then he remembered the other thing he had agreed to. It would be the first time she had introduced someone else to their relationship. He analysed his feelings about it Again, he knew 'cuckolding' was something many men liked - but was he ready to watch his wife dominate someone else?

It took a while as he considered the pros and cons, but then he realised that, all things considered, he was happier with this than if she had gone off and had an affair. She could easily have done that - after all, she looked stunning - but she had chosen to include him. Many men would hate the idea of watching their wife fuck another man, but he felt grateful. Someone once said that true love was watching your partner fuck someone else and still love them - and he was sure he would.

He wondered when it would happen. She would need to meet someone, get them to agree to him being there and persuade them to let her have sex with them the way she liked to. That could take a while. Maybe it would never happen. He relaxed. Either way would work for him.

He proceeded to cook the evening meal, and just as it was ready, Roxanne appeared. She was dressed in comfortable jogging bottoms and an old t-shirt.

"That's better," she announced, "I used that nice, big vibrator. It never fails. Always good to be properly filled up." She leaned over and kissed him. "And it's all set for tomorrow afternoon. Jason will be here about three thirty. OK?"

His stomach flipped. Tomorrow? He had not realised that she had it all planned out. So who was Jason?

He asked the question. "He's one of my clients," she announced, "he's training at the moment, looking to build muscle, lose weight, that sort of thing. You should try it."

She often tried to get him to let her train him. He had considered it, but the truth was, he hated exercise. And what if it worked? What if he became slim and muscular? He would no longer be the man she married, and that might lead to other problems.

They ate in silence. He had prepared one of her usual high-protein, ultra-healthy meals. He would rather have had sausage and chips or something simple, tasty and satisfying, but it would not be worth the trouble it would cause. He could eat his junk food another time, when she was at work and would never find out.

Julian wondered about Jason. He rarely asked about Roxanne's work, as when he had tried in the past, she had told him it was nothing to do with him - just as his work was nothing to do with her. In fact, that was not really true. Some parts of his work had to remain secret, but he would have loved discussing other aspects. He had assumed she simply wasn't interested.

He guessed that she worked with men who were dissatisfied with their bodies and helped them to feel better about themselves - men like him, but who actually wanted to change. Maybe this was the sort of man who would turn up. Roxanne wanted to dominate two men, rather than just one. It would be... interesting.

That night in bed, she had no interest in him. She said she wanted him to 'save himself for tomorrow'. She, meanwhile, masturbated while lying beside him, using just her hands this time. She said that thinking about the following day was a massive turn on.

The day began fairly normally. Julian was working from home, while Roxanne had a client. At lunch time, she arrived home.

She looked him up and down, as he stood in jeans and t-shirt.

"You had a bath?"

"Yes, darling."

"Good. As long as you're clean, you'll do."

She turned and disappeared up the stairs. He heard the shower running, then there was a prolonged period where all he heard was footsteps from their bedroom. Presumably, she was getting ready. He wondered if she would go for leather or latex. She looked incredible in either - so powerful.

He was surprised, therefore, when she appeared in a white blouse, with several buttons undone to show her cleavage, and a short, grey skirt. Rather than her usual high heels, she wore flat shoes. Her hair had not been pulled back severely, but was in a loose ponytail, and looked rather straggly. If anything, she looked more submissive than he had ever seen her. In fact, he looked like his boss's secretary - a flirty eighteen year old who was more window-dressing than useful. The boss liked giving her orders, most of which involved bending over, reaching up or brushing against him.

Julian was about to comment, but before he could open his mouth, Roxanne snapped, "I'm trying a different look. I think Julian's going to like it. He usually sees me in work clothes, so it's different. I don't want your comments."

Julian remained silent. If she didn't want his comments, he wouldn't give them.

They sat in silence. If Roxanne was nervous, she gave no indication. Julian, however, was extremely tense. His fingers twirled over, under and around themselves, his knees bounced up and down, he felt sweat on his top lip and forehead, and his stomach churned. He was unsure, however, if this was nerves or excitement. To him, the two were almost inseparable, as when he and Roxanne had sex, he was nervous about what she might do.

The doorbell rang. Roxanne shot up, then calmed herself. "Answer the door," she commanded. Julian did as he was told.

As he opened the door, every pre-conception went out of the window.

"I'm Jason," the man informed him. At that point, Julian had only looked at his chest, as that was at eye level. He looked up, meeting the eye of the man before him, then looking away.

"Roxy said you're expecting me."

A voice rose from the living room. "Come in, babe. Just walk past him."

Jason brushed Julian aside as he went through, leaving Julian stunned in the doorway. He closed the door and turned.

Jason was nothing like him. For a start, he was well over six feet tall. For another, he was incredibly muscular. Why would a man built like that want add more muscle? Finally, his race was indistinguishable. Julian's best guess was that his heritage was part Afro-Caribbean and part Caucasian. His skin was coffee coloured, rippling under the tight t-shirt. Julian found him intimidating.

He walked into the living room, where Roxanne (Roxy?) was in Jason's arms. He was kissing her deeply - not in the way she kissed Julian, but forcing his mouth down on to her, while engulfing her with his powerful arms. She, meanwhile, leaned back, submitting to him. Julian had never seen her submit before, and he watched, his mouth hanging open.

Finally, Jason withdrew, and both he and Roxanne looked at Julian.

"This is him?" Jason asked. Roxanne nodded.

"Yeah. 'fraid so. He's pathetic. I want him to see a real man fuck me."

Julian gulped. This was not what he expected.

"Let me look at you," Jason told Roxanne. She stepped back, adopting a model pose, almost pouting for her audience. Jason took out his phone. "Let me get a pic, babe. You look amazing." He snapped a photograph. "Now. What you got under that?"