Training My Wife Pt. 01

Sarah was driving me insane.

Not the kind of insane where you're a little aggravated yet continue going about your day. The kind of insane where you begin questioning your life, whether any of it is worth it, and how you could have let it come this far...

We had been married for six years. She was 31, I was 30. No kids - she "just wasn't ready, and wished I would stop bringing it up." So went most of our conversations, and most of the questions I posed to her.

"Why don't we ever get to see my parents?"

"Why can't I go hang out with the guys?"

"Why don't you give me blowjobs anymore?"

"Why don't we have sex anymore?"

All the same. She couldn't be bothered to work on our relationship. All she cared about was her comfort, and how I felt be damned.

I wouldn't say it was always like this, but it wasn't NOT always like this. Ever since we first started dating, she felt superior to me. Like she was more attractive than me, smarter than me, more successful than me - and she knew it. She was a Princeton grad, a 5'8" brunette beauty. Long dark hair, well past her shoulders, thin yet muscular legs, piercing blue eyes with a strong jawline and a slightly larger-than-expected nose that made it seem like she was always looking down at me (I always liked her nose, to be honest).

No children meant she maintained her toned physique. B-cup breasts that didn't dip in the slightest, an ass that was disproportionately full, the slightest hint of a six pack. I think, deep down, she always believed she had settled by marrying me. I was, in most respects, average - state school, middling accountant, slight beer gut, 5" penis, not particularly aggressive or dominant. In her mind, the disparity between our perceived intelligence and attractiveness excused some of her actions and her dismissive approach to our marriage. She had the upper hand, and we both knew it, even if we didn't verbalize it. And it only worsened as each year went along.

Today was just another example. When she arrived home from work, I was sitting on the couch, watching the game, having a beer.

"Did you go grocery shopping?" She snapped the minute she walked in the door.

"No, I didn't have a chance, I'm sorry honey."

She just stared at me. She didn't yell, didn't make a face, she just stared. Her disdain was evident.

"I'm going to take a bath. Bring me a glass of chardonnay, then don't talk to me. I don't want to look at you until you pick up WHAT I ASKED YOU TO PICK UP." She didn't yell, but her words had bite. I was in for a long night. And week. She knew how to hold a grudge.

After her bath, she called her best friend and spent an hour bitching about me, explaining how worthless I was. Eventually she seemed to get over her anger, as I heard laughter emanate from her room - at my expense, no doubt. Her friend Olivia was no fan of mine. Eventually talk turned to the young lawyer Olivia was cheating on her husband with. Apparently the guy could fuck like a wildebeest. I could hear my wife exclaim, "Ughhh you're so lucky! I haven't had a good fuck in agesss." Clearly that comment was intended both for Olivia and me - she made no effort to lower her voice.

I don't THINK my wife was cheating on me, but I could never be sure, and she never did anything to assuage my fears. I think she secretly liked the idea that I would be constantly afraid that she would find a better man to fuck. Kept me on my best behavior.

Overall, it was a typical evening with my wife. Unpleasant, joyless, and sexless.

Little did she know, I had a plan, a plan that would fix everything for me. My life was about to finally turn around.

--

The next morning, Sarah seemed to have gotten over her anger. "How is your day looking?" She asked me as she poured her coffee.

"Oh, fine - a couple meetings to go over some new clients we've picked up, but it should be a pretty chill day."

"Good!" She said, with some enthusiasm. She did this - alternate between bouts of love and disdain, compassion and detachment. "I have a chalk full day, so don't try to reach me. I just have too much going on," she said as she scrolled through her email, sipping her coffee. She looked great - V-neck sleeveless blouse, the perfect amount of cleavage, a tight white skirt, and heels that were bigger than my cock (a fact she had reminded me of many times in the past). My cock jumped a bit - before I remembered I wouldn't so much as sniff her pussy anytime soon.

"Okay, honey. Hey, I've been meaning to tell you - remember my friend Vanessa?" Vanessa had been a brief fling in college, but we had remained friends. Vanessa owned a dog breeding kennel a few hours away but frequently came to town for business, conferences, and the like.

"Yes, I remember. What's up. Is she dead?"

"No! She's coming into town for business, and I invited her to stay here a couple of days. I hope that's okay."

Sarah looked at me for a couple seconds before her mouth split into the biggest, fakest smile I had ever seen. "Of course, Greg! That is perfectly fine! Why would I care to have a woman I barely know stay in our house for a few days! It's not like that would be a massive inconvenience to me!!"

I had to be careful here. How do I want to play this? I chose genuine naivete. "Great, thanks for understanding, hun."

Wrong choice.

"FUCK YOU, Greg. You just ruined my weekend. I work hard all week just so I can enjoy myself, and then you come in and FUCK IT UP. Jesus Christ, I just don't know what your problem is. Dick!" With that, she stormed out.

Sigh. Well, the end was close. Soon I would be a free man.

--

The next evening, Sarah and I were making dinner, awaiting Vanessa's arrival. Sarah had cooled down since the previous morning, but she still wasn't happy. She had barely spoken to me since then. She was sipping her chardonnay, I was drinking my beer, stealing glances at the TV when Sarah went to check her phone.

The doorbell rang.

Sarah looked at me. "She's your friend, YOU get the door," she said aggressively. I walked to the door and pulled it open. "Vanessa! How are you!"

Vanessa walked into the main hall. She was almost my height, 5'11". She had jet-black, short hair, barely past her earlobes. Her face was round, not sharp, and she had dark eyes, almost black. She was not heavy, but certainly bulkier than Sarah. You could tell she worked with animals; she had strong arms and hands, and thick quads. But she exuded femininity. She had large breasts, easily DD - they were what captured my attention back in college. She had a plump ass and plump lips. Frankly, I found her stunning. Intimidating, but stunning.

"Greg! It's great to see you, love!" Then, in a whisper, "Are you ready for this?" She had a twinkle in her eye, a small smirk at the corner of her lips. "Oh yes," I responded. "It has to be done." Her smirk grew wider. "Good. Let's get you a pet."

--

Dinner was delicious. Sarah, Vanessa, and I sat around the table, talking and drinking, reminiscing about old times. Vanessa and I did most of the talking. Sarah, while cordial and polite, clearly was not as interested.

"Things are going really well, though," Vanessa said. "I've had a couple bitches give birth to beautiful litters. Definitely some show pets in there. Going to sell for quite a bit. Will be a great year for me, financially. Really, the dog business has become so lucrative the past couple years."

"That's great. Good for you," Sarah said half-heartedly, her eyes straying to the window, no doubt planning her escape to the comfort of our bed.

"Thanks, Sarah. That's so sweet. But you know, training dogs isn't my only focus nowadays. I've been expanding to another area. A very...niche...area, so to speak."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" I asked, trying to sound genuinely curious, even though I knew full well what Vanessa was referring to. My cock was beginning to stir - this was it.

"I now train women, Greg."

Sarah's head snapped back towards the table. Her jaw dropped slightly, as if she couldn't believe what she had just heard, and her eyes narrowed. "You train what?" Sarah asked?

"Women." Vanessa said simply. She pushed her chair back and stood up. "I have found a very special technique I use to train women. And it turns out there are a lot of men - husbands, mostly - who will pay virtually anything to have their bitchy wives turned into their submissive pets." She slowly walked around the table towards where Sarah was sitting. Sarah simply stared at her, as if she couldn't believe her ears. "Greg told me you've been...well, what's the word...oh yeah...a CUNT." Vanessa almost hissed the word, an unmistakably threatening tone. "You've been an ungrateful, rude bitch, Sarah. That's what Greg has told me, at least." Vanessa pulled out a pair of black leather gloves and began pulling them onto her flexing hands.

Sarah looked rapidly from Vanessa to me to Vanessa. "Greg, what the fuck is this? What have you been telling her, you no good son of a bitch! Why would you talk about me like tha-"

SMACK.

Vanessa had slapped Sarah firmly across the cheek. The impact sent Sarah sprawling onto the ground. "GREG!! DO SOMETHING!! What the fuck is this!?!?"

I just stared at her. This woman who had made my life hell the past few years. This woman who didn't appreciate me, who took advantage of me, and treated me so poorly.

"Don't look at your owner like that, Sarah. Greg has told me everything. He's had enough, and I can't blame him. It's time for you to slow down and accept your place as our new bitch."

"Owner?? OUR?? What the fuck is thi-"

SMACK. "Do not talk, pet!!" Vanessa yelled in a commanding tone.

"How dare you talk to me like tha-"

SMACK. Vanessa hit Sarah again. Sarah started whimpering, clearly afraid to speak again, for fear of being struck by Vanessa's strong hands. Her cheek was bright red.

A smile began to spread across Vanessa's face. "Good girlllll" she purred. "You're starting to learn. You'll be easy to break, I think. You think you're so smart, so tough. But in the end, you're just like every bitch I've broken and trained. You're nothing. And, once you taste it, you'll understand - you're MEANT to be a pet. It's your destiny. It's so much simpler to be a pet. There's no stress, no fighting, nothing like that. You'll sink into it, Sarah. I can tell."

Sarah looked up at Vanessa in fear, her lips trembling, her cheek red from Vanessa's abuse. But there was something else spreading across her face. I couldn't pinpoint it. It wasn't acceptance, exactly - maybe understanding? Concession? But whatever it was, it was gone in an instant, as Sarah renewed her protestations. "You come into MY house, eat MY foo-"

Vanessa grabbed Sarah's collar and dragged her over to the ottoman in the living room. She threw Sarah across it and ripped down her skirt, exposing her plush ass and black thong.

"YOU" - SMACK - "WILL" - SMACK - "LEARN" - SMACK - "TO OBEY!!" SMACK SMACK SMACK. Vanessa was laying into Sarah now, and Sarah, while initially screaming, became silent, taking Vanessa's abuse. Perhaps she saw I wasn't going to intercede and realized protesting wasn't going to work.

She turned to me with tears in her eyes. "Greg, please...I'm your wife...you can't do this to me...please, help me...I love you..."

Vanessa beckoned me. I got up from the table and approached them. Sarah's ass was bright red. I felt myself begin to stiffen. Vanessa looked at my crotch and smiled, seeing a slight bulge protruding from my khakis. "Someone likes this," she said, winking at me. "Me too. There's nothing like bringing a bitch to her knees."

Sarah looked at me, pleading with her eyes. "Greg...please...I love you...I need you...help me...you can't do this to-"

SMACK.

I slapped Sarah's ass, as hard as I could. She yelped and began sobbing. Vanessa grabbed her hair and yanked her head back so she was staring directly in my eyes. I grabbed her cheeks, pointing them to my face, as I said to my wife, the love of my life:

"Be a good girl for Vanessa. This will be over so much faster if you don't fight it."

Vanessa pulled a dog collar from her pocket and fastened it around Sarah's neck. She took a leash and hooked it to the collar.

"Your training will begin tomorrow, pet. Time for bed. Let's go!" She led my wife, on her hands and knees, to the guest bedroom. My wife followed, whimpering but not daring to speak out.

I tidied up the living room and dining room. After several minutes, Vanessa came back into the kitchen.

"Well. That was fun. I apologize for being so hard on her, but you have to set the tone early. It takes a bit for these dumb bitches to finally realize they're no longer the boss. But once they learn, they settle in nicely." She chuckled. "I set her up in a dog cage I brought in. She'll sleep well tonight."

"Thanks, Vanessa. Can't wait to watch you work your magic," I said.

Vanessa gazed down at my still-visible bulge. "So I guess you found that a bit exciting, huh?"

I grinned sheepishly, my cheeks turning red. "A bit," I said.

"That's okay, Greg. It's understandable, seeing another woman manhandle your wife like that. It's common. I see it all the time. In fact, it's part of my training regiment." She sat down at the table. "Come bring that thing over here, Greg."

I walked over to her and gave presented by jeans. She began stroking the outside of my cock, gently tracing her finger around the imprint on my pants. "That's the cock I remember. Small but hard as a rock." She wasn't making fun of my; she was just being honest.

I moaned softly, not caring that she called my cock small. It had been so long, so long since a woman had touched me. She unzipped my pants and opened the fly, allowing my cock to spring free. She began delicately stroking the underside of my erection, teasing me, drawing her fingers gently down my shaft. It was hard for me to contain myself.

"Fuck, Vanessa, you're going to make me cum. Fuck."

"Well, that didn't take long! That's okay, Greg - release yourself. I want it, Greg."

I felt my balls begin to tighten, that familiar feeling that pushes all other thoughts out, as all my concentration and focus descended on a spot in between my balls and my anus, deep within my pelvis, as though a massive flood was building within me, tensing, readying itself for release.

"Good, Greg, good," Vanessa cooed. She picked up a dog bowl she had brought and held it underneath my penis. "Feed your wife, Greg. Feed your wife," she said as she continued working the underside of my cock.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, urghhhhh" I growled as I reached the point of no return, my balls pulling tightly to my body as a series of intense contractions began deep in my pelvis. The feeling of euphoria spread throughout my body as I began to spurt semen. The first spurt was so powerful, the semen shot directly over the bowl. But the next several blasts sprayed the inside of the bowl, coating it with my thick cum, as as the contractions began to recede. My body felt so warm and light, as days of stress and anticipation were coaxed out of my by the woman now in charge of my wife. I sank into a chair, a dumb smile on my face.

Vanessa took the bowl and filled it with water, setting it down by the back door. "Sarah's water bowl," she said, with an evil grin.

I had no words. Only bliss. This was the perfect start to my new chapter. I could not wait for what Vanessa had up her sleeve...

To be continued...