Satisfying Stephanie

SATISFYING STEPHANIE

By Me (F/m, FM/m, spanking, D/s, slavery, reluctant, serious)

Synopsys : The story of Mark and Stephanie, a mismatched husband and wife trying to find a way to live together. Although not their intention, they find themselves gradually sliding into the role of mistress and servant as Mark is gradually cowed, beaten and cuckolded into submission.

I first met Stephanie six years ago at an adult education college. We were both taking the same French language class, and since I was struggling while she was just about the smartest person there, I asked her to give me a little after hours help. She agreed, and I found myself struggling to learn French at her house at her house once a week. I couldn't believe my luck - Stephanie was beautiful and vivacious, the kind of smart, supremely confident woman that I'm always hugely attracted to but who is usually way out of my league.

After a month, I was still struggling with the lessons. "You are useless," she said to me finally, tossing the books aside. "I don't think you are ever going to be able to talk French. Hell, on this performance I'm amazed you can talk English!" She had a playful grin that took the sting out of the words.

"Looks that way," I agreed glumly. "I'm even thinking of cancelling my holiday."

"That's why you're learning?" She said in surprise. "Me too! I'm going on one of those cycling-camping tours next month."

"I was thinking of doing a similar thing myself, but in the car," I said. "Or at least I was going to, once I learned enough French to get around on my own. Now I think I'll have to do a package tour or something instead. If I can afford it."

She went quiet after that, and we hit the books again for an hour - again with little success. As I got ready to leave, she stopped me and asked me to sit down.

"Look, I've been doing some thinking. Why don't we combine our holidays? I'm going on my own as well and if we shared the trip we'd be company for one another. We get on well, it would let us cut our costs, and I could help you with the language barrier."

I was smart enough to pretend that I wanted to think it over for a few days, but in truth I was ready to jump at the chance. I was madly attracted to Stephanie; I've always been a sucker for the petite redhead type, and the thought of spending a few weeks cycling through the countryside with her was appealing.

We fell in love on the holiday; by the second week we were both sleeping in my tent. A month after we got home I proposed, and we were married soon afterwards.

For the first month or so all was well, but soon things started to go wrong. Steph gradually began to become distant and moody - it began in minor ways, but over time it reached a point where she was barely talking to me. Our sex life dropped off almost from the end of the honeymoon. I tried to wait it out, to see if things would get better, but they didn't. I couldn't think of anything I was doing wrong, but just in case I tried extra hard to show her more than my normal level of love and support - I was scrupulous about doing more than my share of the chores, always affectionate and complimentary. She just grew even more distant. I was terrified that she was realising that marrying me had been a mistake, that she could have done better.

Finally I confronted her about it. She tried to shrug it off, pretend that nothing was wrong, but I've always been stubborn and I persisted. "Honey, we've always been honest with one another," I said. "Now it's clear to me that something is wrong in our marriage. You've almost totally lost interest in sex, we hardly talk any more..."

"Why is it all my fault?" She demanded angrily. "You blame me for every single thing that's wrong between us!"

"No!" I almost shouted, and she blinked with surprise. I don't think I had ever yelled at her before. "No," I carried on in a more reasonable tone, "it's not like that at all. I'm just trying to get you to admit that there is a problem. I'm absolutely not saying that you are the one to blame. If you don't feel you can make love to me anymore, then I want to know what I have done to make that happen. If I'm not satisfying you in the bedroom, I want to know why that is and what I can do to fix it."

"It's..." she trailed off, lost in thought for a long time. I waited, knowing that right now there was nothing I could do but let her think it through. "Jason, there's just no way to say it without hurting you," she said finally. She looked so miserable right then, it broke my heart. "And I really don't want to do that."

"Don't worry about that right now," I said earnestly. "Steph, the one thing that hurts me most in all this world is the thought that I'm making you unhappy in some way. No matter what you have to say to me, it can't be worse than that."

"Okay," she hesitated again and then looked me straight in the eye. "You can't satisfy me in bed."

I winced inwardly, but tried to keep my face as straight as possible. "Go on."

"At first, I thought it wouldn't matter. I knew I loved you almost from the beginning, before the holiday even. When we first slept together, I was so... oh god, I can't believe I'm saying this. I was so disappointed. I'm sorry, but it just did absolutely nothing for me. I still loved you though, so I stayed with you. I figured I could live without good sex so long as I still loved you, but I just can't do this any more. I can't lie there faking orgasms every time and lying about how great it was afterwards!"

"So what is it that's wrong, exactly?" I asked. I knew she had to get all of this out while she was prepared to talk about it. If I showed how upset this was making me, there was no way I would ever get her to open up like this again.

"Everything!" I could tell she was near to tears. "You're just not good in bed Jason. Nothing you do turns me on in the slightest. It never has, not once."

She began to cry quietly, wrapping her arms around herself. Closed off, introspective. I took her in my arms. "Honey, don't worry about it. We'll find a way to fix this, I know we will." She began to sob openly and I rubbed her back gently. We stayed like that for a long, long time.

Eventually she quietened and I released her. "I can't believe you lived with this much misery for so long just because of that," I said gently. "Okay, new rule. From now on, we tell one another everything. Everything, now matter how hurtful we think it is. Okay?"

"Okay," she said.

We spent the rest of the day in the house, just talking things over. I felt like I was getting to know Steph all over again; it was humbling in the extreme to realise that our entire sex life had been a total lie. Even worse, she seemed adamant that there was nothing I could do about it. It was nothing specific I'd done wrong, she said.

"I still love you darling," she said, "but you said it's time for total honesty and here it is. It's not just that you're... well, that you're so small down there. I could live with that, if you were any good at the other things I like. But you aren't. You don't turn me on, and you never will. Sexually speaking I'm just not attracted to you."

"Steph, you're a pretty highly sexed woman. If you're saying that our marriage is going to be sexless from now on, well, I think I could cope with that, if it meant staying with you, but I don't think you could live with it. Maybe for a little while, but in a few weeks or months you'll be going up the walls."

"Well, I don't see another option," she said. "That's just going to have to be the way it is."

And so it was. We continued sharing a bed, but did nothing more than cuddling. I've never been all that sexually active, so it didn't bother me too much at first. But as I predicted, Steph gradually began getting more and more frustrated. She got irritable and snappish, and despite our best efforts the effects were bleeding over into the other areas of our relationship and poisoning our marriage. I was losing her and there was nothing I could do about it - I just had to wait her out.

Finally, she had had enough. After a nasty row that blew up over nothing at all, we sat down for another frank talk - this time at her suggestion. "Darling," she announced, "I love you and I don't want to hurt you. But to put this bluntly, I need to get laid properly or I'm going to go out of my mind!"

"I know, I know." I sighed with resignation. "You gave it a good try, but it was never going to work. So what do we do about it?"

"It pains me to say it, but there's only one choice, isn't there? You're just not an option, so I'm going to have to go elsewhere."

I sighed. It had been obvious to me that this was going to happen, and I had been struggling with it over the last months. In my mind, it came down to three options - I could insisty on fidelity, in which case we would either  carry on as we were until we admitted it was time for a divorce or she would start cheating on me behind my back... or I could accept the inevitable. We talked it over for another hour or so, but what it boiled down to was that I gave my wife permission to cheat on me with other men. Although I'd pretty much decided on this option weeks ago, now that I was faced with the brutal reality I couldn't help feeling that our relationship was changing drastically.

She started the next day. She dressed up in her sexiest clothes and headed out on the town. We agreed that she should bring the guy back to our house - it seemed safest. I said I would give her a couple of hours to find somebody, and then head out to the pub for a few of hours while she brought him back and did the deed.

It was hell sitting around the house imagining Stephanie giving the come-on to some stranger, and worse sitting in the pub imagining what he must be doing to her in our house - in our bed! I couldn't stop thinking about it, wondering exactly what they would do together, what positions they would use. Stephanie was right about me, I thought jealously; I had never been adventurous in bed, never gone much beyond the standard missionary position. Now some stranger was probably showing her what sex should be like, and it was driving me crazy!

Just thinking about it gave me a raging erection. I hadn't seen my wife naked in months, and just picturing that petite little body of hers writhing and straining as she moaned in pleasure under the attentions of a total stranger was turning me on incredibly.

Just to be on the safe side, I waited until the pub closed and then headed home again. We'd agreed that she would send the guys home once they'd served their purpose. Stephanie was snuggled on the living room couch, bathing in the firelight with a big dressing gown wrapped around her. She looked relaxed.

I hesitated, wondering what I should say. "Did things go okay?"

She shrugged a little. "Well enough."

"How are you feeling?"

She shrugged again. "It was fine. I feel a lot better, okay?"

That set a regular routine. Now and again Steph would get dressed up and head out on the town. I'd give her a while then go out to the pub and sit there for a few tortured, frustrated hours until closing before heading back home again to find her waiting. It was hardly an ideal arrangement for me, but I couldn't argue with the results. It was as if somebody had opened a valve and just drained all the tension out of our marriage. Steph was happier and more laid-back than I'd ever known her.

We'd set no timetable for her trysts, but she had originally gone out about once a fortnight. Gradually that became once a week - Saturday night became her 'date night'. Then she started adding Fridays as well. After six months or so she started going out midweek, until eventually she was going out more nights than she was staying in. I was getting more and more jealous - I knew she had a pretty high sex drive, but I was beginning to wonder just how high!

The next big change in our relationship came after about eight months of this routine. It was just another night down at the pub for me, but when I came home about half eleven there was no sign of Stephanie downstairs. I went up to the bedroom and opened the door. It simply never occurred to me that she would still be with whoever she had brought home.

My wife was on all fours on the bed, groaning softly with pleasure as a stranger took her from behind. I gaped at them in shock; I had long become used to the idea that Stephanie was having sex with other men, but to be confronted with it like this was something else; the sheer reality of it hit home like a punch in the gut.

Steph turned her head and saw me there. There was no surprise on her face, no shame. Instead she grinned slowly and, keeping her eyes on me, turned her head slightly to the guy behind her. "That's it, just like that," she panted, "fuck me good... yeah, keep it going."

I shut the door and went downstairs to the living room. I felt utterly wretched, but what could I do? I'd agreed to exactly this, I could hardly start complaining now. I realised that my erection hadn't even gone away at the sight; in fact, it was harder than it had ever been.

They showed no sign of coming downstairs, and I decided to spend the night on the couch. I stripped down to my boxers, threw a blanket over myself and tried to sleep. It was no use; I just could not get rid of the image of that man screwing Stephanie while she was clearly having the time of her life. He had looked a lot younger than I was, well muscled and good looking. Just the kind of man my beautiful wife deserved, I thought miserably to myself. Now I had a face and body to put into my imaginings, an image to torture myself with.

After a couple of hours I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs followed by the front door banging. A moment later Steph padded into the living room, clad in her usual dressing gown.

"God Steph, how could you do that to me?" I asked plaintively.

She laughed. "Oh come on Jason!" She said scornfully, "you knew perfectly well what I was doing while you were out. Don't try to climb up on your high horse now!"

I slumped back into the couch. "Doing it is one thing, but to have me walk in like that?"

"I didn't open that door Jason, you did. You have only yourself to blame for what you saw. So if you don't like it, stay the hell out of the bedroom from now on because the only change is going to be that Mark is going to be coming around more often. In fact," she continued, and I could sense the change in her voice. I looked up to see her staring at my crotch. Yes, that damned hard-on was still there. She came over and put her foot on my lap, smiling widely as she wiggled her toes against my erection. "It seems to me that while your mouth says one thing, at least a part of you is thinking something else!"

I sat immobile, frozen in shame and guilt as she continued relentlessly. "Who's the bad guy here, Jason? Who's the one responsible for this situation?" She hooked her toes into the waistband of my boxers and pulled at them. My cock sprung out, standing to its full three and three quarter inch length. She began to play her toes against my it. I looked up and could see that she was naked under the robe. He cunt was glistening wet, and I could clearly see trickles of semen on her thighs. "Lest we forget, husband, the only reason I have spent nearly a year screwing other men is that you are so god-awful shit-useless in bed! Well, most of the men I've slept with haven't been all that much better but now I've found Mark." Her eyes went dreamy and a smile stole across her lips. "He took a hell of a lot of finding, but now I have a man who can really fuck and I'm not giving that up just because you opened a bedroom door and got a bit upset at seeing another man do what you can't! And I most certainly am not going to stand here and listen to you bitch and whine because I'm doing what you suggested I do, when it's actually turning you on!"

She took her foot away and straddled me, using her hands to masturbate my stiff cock slowly. I moaned in spite of myself - it was the first sexual contact we'd had in months, and it felt truly incredible. "Did you really think that you could pleasure me with this little thing?" She asked mockingly. "They say size doesn't matter to most women, but there are limits! This isn't even four inches now, and it's harder than I've ever seen it before! God Jason, I could hardly feel it touch the sides most of the time! Mark's cock makes this look like a little worm. And he really know how to use it!" She began pumping my cock faster and faster, clearly extremely turned on by the memory. "He's one in a million, that's for sure. Well," she said with that evil smile of hers, "one in about sixty, anyway! Jesus, I don't think I've ever come so hard or so much as I did tonight. Four, five times maybe. The man is amazing."

I couldn't take any more. I'd never in my life been so ashamed, and never before been so turned on. Stephanie sensed that I was about to come and pointed my cock down between her thighs as I shot my load in a convulsive spurt. She stood up and opened her robe to give me a good view. I could see my semen intermingled with Mark's on her thighs.

"Well, you lasted nearly a whole minute and a half there Jason, well done," she sneered.

"Steph..."

"Oh, don't bother." She snapped. "I can't imagine that you have anything to say right now that I'm interested in hearing. They say that in any relationship one partner is the submissive one and the other the dominant one. Well, I gave you your chance and you have made it quite clear that you aren't man enough to handle being married to me. So as of now, I am the one in charge. If I feel like fucking my way through an entire football team, you'll nod and smile and say you like it. Understood?" That piercing green-eyed stare held my gaze. I'd always been able to lose myself in Stephanie's eyes, and with the emotional state I was in the effect was practically hypnotic. I felt myself nodding slowly. "I said, is that understood?"

"Yes." I'd never heard my voice sound so small, so weak.

"Good. In the meantime... I'm tired. Come on, we're going to bed."

I followed her upstairs miserably, wondering what the hell was happening to my marriage.

Stephanie didn't go out the next night, or the night afterwards. But at about ten o'clock the doorbell rang, and when I answered it Mark was standing there. I stared at him, tremling with impotent rage, but there was nothing I coud do about it. I stepped aside wordlessly and he walked in, smiling broadly. It was the first time I had really got a good look at him; he looked to be an inch or two over six feet, easily six inches taller than myself. He was much more solidly built, too, like a rugby player or something. He was younger than I, but I tried to tell myself it wasn't by all that much - late twenties perhaps. Alright, maybe mid twenties.

"You're here!" Stephanie squealed, clearly delighted when he appeared in the living room. She practically flung herself into his arms and they kissed deeply while I squirmed. "Jesus, I can't get enough of you," she said when they finally broke the kiss. She turned to me. "But I'm being rude by not making the introductions! Mark, this is my husband Jason. Jason, this is my lover Mark!"

I mumbled a hello nervously. I could feel my cock begin stirring in my trousers at the sight of them together. Mark just shook his head and smiled. "And he's really okay with this?"

"Probably not, but it doesn't really matter what he thinks, does it? " She replied. "I told you, I'm the one who wears the trousers in this house. Metaphorically, anyway," she added, glancing down at her leather miniskirt with a smile. "Now Jason, if you will excuse me I'm just going to take Mark upstairs to our bed and fuck his brains out. Is that okay with you?"

I stared, feeling my cheeks blushing with humiliation but saying nothing. Stephanie raised an eyebrow and I knew she wasn't going to leave until I answered.

I felt tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. "Yes."

"Yes what?" She asked, still holding me in her gaze.

"Yes, it's okay with me."

"Excellent! Feel free to join us if you want some pointers," she said with a grin as she led Mark upstairs.

I sat on the couch, feeling totally rejected and heartbroken... and turned on. My cock was once again rock hard at the thought of my wife fucking her lover upstairs. After maybe an hour I couldn't take it any longer; Stephanie wasn't the only one who needed relief every now and again. I stripped off quickly and began stroking my cock, thinking of the much bigger one that Steph was enjoying upstairs. Turned on as I was, I couldn't really get into it - my head just wasn't in the right place. Finally, I couldn't contain myself any longer. I had to see what they were doing up there, I just had to! I stood up, pulling up my trousers, went upstairs and opened my bedroom door. I stepped inside and closed the door behind me quickly before I could change my mind.

Mark was lying on the bed, gazing up at my wife as she straddled him. She was bouncing up and down energetically, groaning with pleasure as his cock slid in and out of her. When I closed the door she turned and smiled, apparently glad to see me.

"Hi Jason," she gasped, "come to get a good look at what a real cock is like?"

I stood motionless, trembling with shame but unable to make myself leave. I had an excellent view of the action. The sight of my wife's cunt riding up and down that fat cock was amazing; Steph was wetter than I had ever seen her before, her juices were practically trickling down his cock. Every time she moved I could hear a distinct slurping noise that sounded incredibly dirty and sordid.

"Oh, I'm so close," Stephanie said breathlessly. "Oh that's right, do it. Oh god, do it to me! Fuck me!"

Mark reached down and began to brush his thumb lightly over her clit. It's not something I have ever been good at - hell, there's nothing about sex I've ever been any good at according to Stephanie - but she was so turned on that in just a few seconds she erupted into orgasm. It was nothing like those she had faked for me in the first months of our marriage; her whole body tensed up and she threw her head back and let out a long, shuddering moan before sinking down on top of Mark.

"Oh wow, that was amazing," she said after resting for a few minutes. "I could go on like that all night. In fact, I think I will!"

Mark laughed, and glanced at me. "And what about him?" He asked, his voice dripping contempt.

"Oh, let him enjoy the view. I'm sure he'll find it most educational. Come on, let's show him how a real man fucks."

She rolled over and spread her legs and Mark climbed on top of her, still erect from shafting her before. It was the first time I'd seen the whole thing up close. I couldn't say that it was so many inches long or thick - I didn't have a ruler to hand, after all! But it was easily twice the size of my own hard-on, both in thickness and length. The dark red head stood proudly at the end, bulging obscenely. It occurred to me that although he had brought Stephanie to a climax, he hadn't come himself. That must take considerably more control than I'd ever managed. He smiled when he saw me looking on so enviously and waved it in my direction.

"I know," he said, "impressive as hell isn't it?"

Stephanie laughed. "That it is," she said happily. "After nearly a year married to needle-dick here, it's a dream come true. Now put it where it belongs."

He guided that immense tool into her cunt. She gasped sharply as he pushed the head into her with one single hard thrust. "Oh god, it's so fucking big," she moaned, "Uh, just hold it there a minute, give me a chance to get used to it."

He waited while Stephanie struggled to control her breathing and relax enough to let him proceed. He stroked her hair, comforting her while she got used to the most welcome intrusion. After a few minutes she nodded, and Mark began to inch the rest of his cock slowly into her. It seemed to take an eternity, but finally he was all the way home. He rested a minute, then began to pull out again. I watched as inch after inch of his shaft slid out until the head was just threatening to pop out of her cunt; he stopped for a moment, then leaned forwards and slid the whole thing back into her in one smooth movement. Stephanie jerked and let out a gasp as he pushed home.

Mark set up a steady slow rhythm, thrusting in and out of Stephanie in long languid strokes. She moaned every time he pushed into her and I wondered what it must be like to be penetrated like that, how it would feel to have that giant cock thrusting deep inside time and time again. If Steph was any indication, it felt pretty damned good!

After a while Mark began to speed up the strokes, just a little. He also inched his body a little bit forwards, and I realised that he was changing the angle of the penetration. He kept doing this every now and again, inching forwards just a little each time. Each time Steph's moans became that bit deeper and more urgent and eventually I realised that he was gradually bringing his shaft into contact with her clitoris. Her breathing began to come faster and faster, and I could see her tensing as another orgasm approached. She raised her legs and wrapped them around his buttocks, pulling him deep into her cunt and crying out once more as the orgasm consumed her.

Eventually she released him, and Mark pulled out and sat back on his knees. I was amazed; he'd fucked my wife to orgasm twice now, and still hadn't come himself. The man must have amazing self control.

"See, darling?" Steph said as she sat up. "That's how a real man does it. What did you think?"

"Incredible," I said, genuinely impressed in spite of myself. She smiled that wicked smile she always gets when she's thought of a particularly nasty idea.

"Well don't just stand there," She said, "thank the man!"

"Thank him?" I could hardly believe my ears. "For what?"

"I thought my happiness was important to you? Well, Mark here has just given me one of the best fucks of my life and made me very, very happy. So you should be delighted, shouldn't you? So I think you owe the man a little appreciation."

"I don't think so," I said. There are limits, after all!

Stephanie levelled that hypnotic gaze of hers at me again. "Darling, do you love me?"

"Of course I do! You know that."

She stood and walked over to me, taking my face in her hands, caressing my cheek gently. "Say it again."

I felt a single tear slide slowly down my cheek. I was choked with a jumble of emotions - lust, guilt, shame, remorse... but one other which stood above all. "Steph, I love you more than anything else in the world. Nothing else really matters to me but you."

"And I love you too, in my own way." Her voice was a low murmur, too quiet for Mark to hear. This was private business between us. "I'm not going to force you into doing anything you don't want to do. You're a free agent. But I want you to do this as proof of your love. You claim that all you want is to make me happy. To that end you've stood by and watched another man pleasure me, because you can't do that yourself. That's more than most men would ever tolerate, and trust me when I say that I'm proud of you for it. More proud than you can know. But I need more from you. If you truly want to make me happy, if you truly love me, you will do this thing for me."

I felt more tears on my cheeks as she spoke. I really had only two choices here; leave my wife for good, or accept the terms she was laying down. And that was no choice at all.

"Alright," I whispered. Steph smiled and kissed me deeply.

"Thank you," she whispered back. "Thank you so much. I love you. I know it doesn't seem like it, but I truly do love you. Now go on. I know you can do it."

She sat back on the bed, the familiar smile playing around her lips.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"Come on," she coaxed gently. "Mark just gave me one of the best fucks of my life. Now go on, look him in the eye and do it properly."

I looked up at Mark, who was smiling smugly. My face felt hot with shame; this was truly a new low point in my self esteem. "Mark, I'd like to thank you for giving my wife the best fuck of her life."

"Why you're very welcome Jason," he said with a big shiteating grin. "Don't worry my friend, it won't be the last time!"

"Amen to that," Stephanie said with a laugh. "Now, back to business! Darling, I think we need to find another hole to put that cock of yours into!"

She had Mark lie on his back, his cock jutting up like some obscene flagpole. She climbed on top of him and bent her face to his cock, running her tongue over that big head just as if it were a lollipop. Now it was Mark's turn to sigh with pleasure as she worked the point of her tongue into the cleft on the underside of the head, working it around this most sensitive area. Then she worked her way slowly along the shaft and down to his balls. She took each one in turn, licking it sensuously before working her way back up the shaft to the head again. As her lips slid over the head I wondered how she had gained such expertise in the art of fellatio - certainly not from anything she did with me!

She slid as much of the massive shaft into her mouth as she could manage as I watched, totally fascinated with the scene being played out before me. Stephanie took her lover's huge cock deep into her, and I realised with amazement that I could see her neck actually bulge as that big head pressed into her throat. She took his balls in her hand and began gently playing with them, causing Mark to moan again in pleasure. How I envied him at that moment! Steph's head began to bob back and forth, deep throating her lover with all the assured skill of a professional. She kept it up for an amazingly long time, until Mark finally gasped that he was near to coming; then she withdrew completely and held her mouth open just over the head as she wanked him to a climax. His first spurt hit her cheek and she moved closer, taking four more spurts directly into her mouth. Mark let out a huge sigh as she rolled away and came back to me. A big splash of cum decorated her cheek, slowly sliding downward to her jaw.

"Don't just stand there man, give her a kiss," Mark said. I hesitated, but I could tell by the look on Steph's face that a refusal would not be appreciated. I bent to her and kissed her deeply. She hadn't swallowed - her lover's cum was still in her mouth and she passed it to me, the first time I had ever tasted semen in my entire life. It was slimy and disgusting, like slightly salty cream. I swallowed it down as fast as I could to get rid of the taste as quickly as possible, and then broke away.

"You missed some," she said simply. Sighing, I licked up the dribble of cum on the edge of her mouth. "You know what comes now," Steph said simply.

I turned to Mark, my heart sinking. She seemed determined to make this night as hard as possible. "Thank you for cuming in my wife's mouth, Mark. And for letting me eat your sperm."

"My pleasure Jason," he replied easily before turning to Stephanie. "I know you're an insatiable bitch hon, but I'm pretty beat. Mind if I take a rest before we go another round?"

"Sure thing. Go down and get a drink or something, head back up when you're ready. Hubby and I are going to have a chat."

After Mark had gone downstairs Steph turned around and hugged me, giggling with delight. "Oh Jason, I'm so proud of you!" My hands slid down her back and cupped her arse - an instinctive reaction on my part. Hell, I defy any red-blooded male to have Steph hug him without some response. She released me and slapped my hands away. "Now now, hands to yourself silly." There was no reproof in it - she she was in too good a mood for that. "I'm so lucky to have you, aren't I? I can't imagine many men would be prepared to do this for their wife."

"Uh... thank you, I think," I said wretchedly.

"You must love me so much. So few husbands even tell their wives that - but how could I ever doubt it, even for a second?"

I had no idea what to think about most of this - my thoughts were a whirlwind. But there was one constant in my life right now, one firm point. "I do love you."

"I know. But, we need to get some things straight. Let's sit down." She sat me on the bed and sat directly in front of me, wrapping her legs around my waist so we were practically crotch-to-crotch.

"Look, I know you're in charge Steph. I'm trying to accept that but it's hard, you know?"

"I know," she said sympathetically. "But there's more to it than that. I don't like too much uncertainty, and you must be wondering where the hell you are going to fit into this new arrangement. You love me, and you say that your only desire is to see me happy. Well, it goes both ways - I love you, and I don't want you thinking I'm going to throw you out in favour of Mark. You don't need to worry about that at all. As far as I'm concerned you are my husband, not him. You stay loyal to me and you will stay my husband until death do us part.

"But sexually speaking, I'm a free agent. I shall fuck who I want, when I want."

"I know, an open marriage. But-"

"No!" She said sharply. "Don't make that mistake. We do not have an open marriage."

"Huh? But... well, what do you mean?"

"In an open marriage both parties are free to see other people. We've agreed that I am free to fuck other people, but nobody ever said anything about you. I expect you to be faithful to me Jason, as a husband should be."

"Okay." That at least was an easy one - frustrated and miserable as I was, she was still all I wanted.

"But it's clear to me Jason, if this is going to work then we can't go on the way we have been. It's not fair towards you."

"Not fair how?"

"I feel like you're being excluded too much. Like I've been shutting you out of my sex life. Sitting down the pub all those nights, that can't have been a happy experience for you. No more of that - from now on you stay home. It's also clear to me that I need to be in charge from now on. I'm effectively ruling the roost here already, and I think we both need that. I think that's the only way this marriage is going to work. Agreed?"

"Do I have a choice?" I said disgustedly.

"Don't be like that," she said sharply. "Jason, that was rude and uncalled for. I won't accept rudeness from you, is that clear?"

I sighed. "Yes."

"You may not like some aspects of what I am doing, Jason, but the decisions I am making are made in the interest of keeping this marriage alive. That is what you say you want. You can walk out the door any time you want and I will give you a divorce without hesitation. It'd break my heart, but I'll do it if it's what you want. But if you are going to stay here and be my husband, then you do that openly and honestly. I will not allow you to stay here so you can bitch and moan about it."

I took a deep breath. Put like that, it almost seemed unfair to complain. I'd said I would do anything to save my marriage... well, this was what it was going to take.

"I'm sorry. I agree, you need to be in charge. You make the rules."

"Good. To underscore our new relationship, I think we need a new attitude. You need to be more polite and deferential, both to me and to Mark. I can't see you walking around saying 'mistress' or 'goddess' all over the place, but a more formal mode of address is appropriate. So from now on a simple "ma'am" will do. And as well as obeying me you will obey Mark and address him as "sir", understood?"

"What if you tell me not to do something and he tells me to do it?"

"We'll worry about that if it happens. Now, things are also going to be different outside the bedroom. It's one thing to agree that you're going to be the submissive one, but we aren't going to just pay this lip service. So you'll be doing the housework from now on - I know you've done your share, but I want you to do it all. Cooking, cleaning, gardening, the works. And I'll be taking control of the finances - the joint bank account is going over into my name, though you will keep paying your salary into it, as is the house and car. There will be other things, but you'll work them out as we go along."

"Will Mark be living with us?" I asked, then added a hurried "ma'am?" at her look.

"No, Mark has his own place. But he will be a regular visitor, don't worry about that. Speaking of which, let's get him back in here. I feel like having a nice juicy tounge in my cunt."

The next morning saw the start of our new routine. It was a Saturday, so we had the whole day together. Steph woke me early and led me downstairs, not even letting me dress. I found out why when she took me into the kitchen and presented me with a frilly apron to wear. "Your first job each day is going to be the cleaning, so you need to dress the part," she said with a grin. "Besides, you look cute!"

She had a small whiteboard stuck on the fridge which had a list of jobs written on it. "I've never really been satisfied with your standards of cleanliness, so we're going to pay close attention to that from now on," she said. "Each day you will complete this list of tasks. On a weekday, you will get up at six and begin your day by completing the first half of the list - I expect it all to be done by seven, at which time you will draw my bath and wake me. After you get home from work you will complete the rest of the list. On weekends there is rather more to do, as you can see; you will work through the whole list in one session before waking me at nine." She gazed into my eyes, holding me pinned with her stare. "Let me be completely crystal clear about this; I require all the work on this list to be completed when you wake me at nine. Is that understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Begin. I am going back to bed."

She left me to it. I sighed and got to work.

You know how in all those domination stories when they talk about how a submissive finds it intensely erotic to do menial labour because he's showing his deep devotion to his mistresss? Well, this was nothing at all like that. I didn't feel like I was showing devotion to anybody, I felt like I was doing housework. It was boring and tedious and not the least erotic - well, you know what housework is like. The fact that I was doing it at the behest of a beautiful woman didn't make a lick of difference.

In the kitchen I washed and dried the dishes, cleaned the fridge, sink and oven, washed down all the work surfaces, mopped the floor. I tidied the living room and lounge and dusted them thoroughly. By eight it was obvious that I was going to struggle to finish off in time, and I started to hurry frantically. I cleaned the downstairs loo. Then it was upstaris to clean the main bathroom, tidy the landing and spare bedrooms, more dusting, then change the bedding. Finally I tiptoed into the en suite and did some frantic cleaning in there while the bath filled before going out to wake Steph up just on nine.

She climbed into the bath and handed me a sponge. "It's not all housework and drudgery you know," she said with a grin. "You may be inadequate as a lover, but I still expect you to attend my body in other ways. From now on you will be taking care of all my other intimate needs. "

She had me wash her body, shave her legs, then shampoo and condition her hair. Afterwards she stood whilst I gently dried her entire body and applied deoderant and perfume. This, at least, lived up to the fantasies! The woman I loved was naked before me for the first time in almost a year, and my hard-on testified to the effect that was having on me. But on top of that, there was something gently but undeniably sensual about lavishing this kind of tender attention on her. It was an act that was not sexual in itself, but more a demonstration of warmth and affection.

Afterwards she took me into the bedroom and had me dry and brush her hair, exactly one hundred languid strokes until there was a glossy shine on it. Then she began to teach me how to apply makeup. The last was a nightmare - it took me over an hour and a half of applying and removing to finally get it even remotely right, but Stephanie was remarkably patient with me. In fact she thought the results of my early attempts were hilarious, and a fair part of the lost time was because of her giggling at my clumsy efforts.

Eventually she approved of her look, and stood whilst I dressed her. Then she went on an inspection tour of the house, checking on my cleaining. All went well, until she found a dirty plate on the floor next to a chair in the lounge.

"What's this?" She asked, holding it up. All trace of good humour was gone.

"It's a plate, ma'am."

"Wasn't washing the dishes one of your jobs?" She was giving me The Gaze on full power.

"Yes ma'am."

"You failed to do as you were told?"

I felt like a little kid in front of an especially strict headmistress. "Yes ma'am."

"Take your apron off, then kneel on the chair." She said. I obeyed quickly. "No, bring your knees forward and spread them more. Bend over - no, further, so your backside sticks right out. Wrap your arms around the sides of the chair."

I heard her go into one of the drawers and then return. "Look at this." She said. She was holding a thick wooden handle which had a three foot strip of matt black leather hanging from the end. The leather was three inches wide and extremely thick, and obviously very stiff and heavy. "It was a present off Mark, when I explained all this to him he said I could use it to keep you in line. A joke, really, but I can see now it's going to come in useful."

Oh god, I thought, she's going to hit me with it! Jesus, this was straight out of some twisted fantasy. It couldn't be hapening, it couldn't be real!

"I've explained to you several times now that I am going to be the dominant one in this relationship. I hoped that I could make you understand and accept that out of love and respect towards me, but it seems that I am mistaken. However, one way or another you are going to have to learn to obey. So, we will do this the hard way. You are to hold your position until I release you. You will not let go of that chair, you will not make any atempt to stand up. If you do, I will tie you down and double your dose. Clear? I said, is that clear?"

"Uh... yeah, it's clear."

"Uh, yeah? Is that how you talk to me? Is that the respect you show your wife?"

"Sorry. I mean, yes, it's clear ma'am."

"Don't fret, we'll add a few more for that."

If the housework had been an unerotic experience, what followed was the same but squared and cubed. This was not a sexy spanking, this was a punishment, and a severe one.

Steph took her time setting up, then delivered a strike directly to my quivering ass with all the strength she could muster. Steph isn't strong even by female standards - she's not exactly a big woman, always tending to the petite end of the spectrum. But that leather strap was a great force multiplier - it was so long and heavy and stiff that even she could make it bite.

And bite it did. The pain was much worse than I expected, and I yelled out in shock. Steph gave me no time to recover, however - she landed another blow and another and another. Looking back, her technique wasn't up to all that much. Certainly she's become a great deal more skilful at this kind of thing since that first time. But what she might lack in expertise, she more than made up for in gusto. She beat me quickly and enthusiastically, showing no hint of mercy. After five minutes or so she switched sides, presumably so that she could rest her right arm, but while her left arm may have been her weaker one, by now my arse felt like it was on fire and the blows hurt more than ever.

She didn't count out the strokes, didn't give me any hint of how long she would go on. She just kept beating me and beating me, until by about ten minutes in I was literally sobbing with the pain and humiliation.

Finally she stopped, breathing hard. I felt her trail her fingers over my bruised and battered arse, making me shudder with fresh pain. I was sore.

"You're all red back here," she said. Her voice had a contented singsong quality, a tone I'd never heard on her before. She was utterly at peace with what she had just done. No, more than that - she was euphoric about it.

"Stand up and face me."

I stood. Her expression was... actually she looked a little like she had after Mark had finished with her last night. Tired and happy and completely at ease.

"Now, since your cleaining skills are obviously suspect, there's no telling what other things you have missed. I suggest you go and re-do all the cleaning tasks I set for you this morning. In fact, I insist on it."

I almost objected, but her eyes told me that that wouldn't be a good idea. Her eyes, and the fact that she was still holding that strap. I went back to my cleaning.

We felt out our new relationship over the next two weeks. I would wake each morning before Steph and clean the house, before bathing and dressing her, then making breakfast. I'd head off and do a full day's work, then come back and finish my chores off. Steph held regular inspection tours; the slightest mistake on my part would earn a dose of the strap, plus an order to repeat the day's chores over.

In fact, Stephanie gradually became more and more enthusiastic with that strap. I earned nine doses of it in the first fortnight, each one longer and harder than the next. She even joked that she would have to start going to the gym to build up her strength and endurance - at least, I hoped she was joking.

Mark came over several times a week. Each time, Stephanie had me prepare her in advance. I would bathe her and help her pick out an outfit - Steph asking me which clothes made her look especially sexy for her lover, much to my humiliation. I'd have to give the house an extra cleaning and then cook dinner for them. When Mark arrived I had to answer the door and bring him in, then serve them dinner and drinks while they joked and flirted. Later, Stephanie would have me lead them up to the bedroom.

The first couple of times she had me just stand and watch, as before. She laughingly referred to those sessions as my education - and in truth, it really was. I'd always watched porn with a somewhat cynical eye. I didn't think it was all special effects or anything, but I always assumed that they filmed lots of sessions over a matter of days, maybe weeks, and cut it all together. I assumed my own sixty seconds from foreplay to ejaculation was the average, maybe even a little bit above the average.

Those sessions though... well, that blew all my cosy preconceptions away. Any doubt I had about Steph's complaints regarding my performance vanished there. Which I suppose was the point.

Their lovemaking would last literally for hours - they'd fuck one another senseless, take a break for half an hour or so, then go again. And again. And again. Stephanie rarely orgasmed less than six or seven times - Mark would hold off and hold off, displaying a self control I had never known possible. They used every position I'd heard of, and a lot I hadn't. It was a match made in heaven, like they were two halves of one single machine whose only purpose was to generate sexual rapture.

Humiliating as these sessions were, they were also hugely erotic. I couldn't help but be turned on by the sheer uninhibited lust on display. I would stand there, my cock rock solid as I watched my wife well and truly fucked by another man time after time.

After the first couple of times, Stephanie started having me strip off while I watched them. It was hideously embarrasing to be naked in front of another man, especially one who so obviously outclassed me. Mark himself hardly helped, he was practically hysterical with laughter the first time he saw my pathetic cock standing to attention - with Steph laughing right along with him.

It also quickly became apparent that whilst Mark was more of a man than I could ever hope to be, Stephanie had him under her control almost as much as she had me. It was she who called him around, she who decided when they would have sex and what positions they would try. The only difference was that where she controlled me with direct orders, she controlled him through the careful use of reward and subtle punishment. Good behaviour was met with affection, compliments and extra sex; bad behaviour would result in a sudden change of mood. Mark didn't even seem to realise what she was doing - he wasn't too bright, a thought that was at least some comfort to me.

After a week, I had actually started to become... well, not comfortable exactly, but at least accustomed to the new arrangement. Although I never stopped feeling humiliated and ashamed of myself for demonstrating such weakness, it was gradually becoming clear that Steph was indeed honestly not about to throw me out for her new lover. Well, why should she? She had a stud to give her all the raw sex she wanted, and me to take care of the chores and lavish love and affection on her for as long as she wanted it.

And want it she did. Gradually Stephanie made herself more and more the centre of my life. A typical evening might see me sitting at her feet whilst she relaxed on the couch watching television. I would crouch at her side, holding her drink whilst I simply gazed at her. She said she enjoyed being the centre of attention, it made her feel that nothing else in the world mattered to me. I realised that she was gradually forcing me deeper and deeper into submission, slowly imposing greater and greater restrictions. When I hesitantly brought this up, she simply smiled.

"But of course I am," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Darling, haven't you grasped what we're doing here?"

"Um, well, some of it ma'am." I replied. The form of address was now so natural that I barely even noticed that I was using it.

"We're on a journey here Jason. We've made a huge change in our relationship, you can't expect it to be a simple thing. I'm as much a novice to being in charge as you are to having me in charge. I can't just lay down a set of rules and say 'that's it, so far and no further' - we need to see where it will balance out. We won't know where the limits are until we've pushed a little bit past them."

"But what if I'm not comfortable already, ma'am?" I asked plaintively.

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't be impertinent."

I flinched. "Sorry ma'am."

"It's a valid enough question. Just watch your tone." She sighed. "Look, I wish you would be more open to this. You've resisted and complained every step of the way. It's frustrating, and it's pointless!"

I took a deep breath. I was only too well aware of what pushing her too far would mean - my arse still hurt from yesterday's beating. "It's just, well, our perspectives are a little different ma'am. I don't mean to offend, but you're taking us to a place where you get more and more, but I get less and less. If I may say so ma'am"

"I know that's how it seems, but that's just scratching the surface." She looked at me earnestly. "Think about how today has been. You've worked hard for me - the house is spotless, and that's something you have done. Doesn't that make you feel just a little bit proud?"

I looked around the living room. It was, as she said, spotless. "I guess so ma'am. A little."

"You've looked after your wife, cared for her and protected her in a way that few men could match. Isn't that true?"

"Yes ma'am, that's certainly true."

"Now think back to how you felt spending your nights sitting in a pub imagining what I was getting up to in the bedroom. Think about how we both felt before that, when our relationship was falling apart because we could barely talk to one another. Which is better?"

I couldn't deny it. We'd been through the wringer to be sure. "This is."

"And how would a divorce have felt?"

I actually felt a shiver go up my spine. I couldn't speak, but she could read the answer in my face. "See? This is the best way, you know it is. So all that resistance, all that opposition - and now you admit I was right all along!"

"I guess so ma'am." I was far from certain. It sounded like it made sense, but I Steph had this way of making the most bizzare things sound reasonable.

"And sexually - you make a big deal of how terrible it is watching me and Mark, but you sit there with a raging hard-on the entire time. Tell me that's not true!"

I lowered my eyes, blushing. She put a finger under my chin and lifted my head. "There," she said gently, "that's the problem. I know you Jason, better than you know yourself. You're turned on by watching Mark fuck me, you always have been. But every time you try to admit it, this horrible shame wells up in you. You want to give in to the shame, fight against your own desires. Well that's damaging and it's wrong - we both did that, and it almost destroyed us. Well I won't do it any more, and I won't allow you to do it either. You think I'm trying to enslave you, Jason? Well, my real purpose here is to set you free."

I sensed that she was ready to end the conversation, but I had to ask one more question. "And the beatings ma'am?"

"Nobody said this would be easy, Jason. What I am doing is right, and it's for your own good. You don't spank a child for pleasure, you do it so that the child learns the proper way to behave."

"I'm not a child," I said. Too sharply.

Her expression hardened. Had I gone too far? "Then I suggest you stop behaving like one and start being a little more positive."

I lowered my eyes again. "Yes ma'am."

"Good. Now get onto the chair. I won't have you taking that tone with me."

That punishment was particularly bad - I was still really sore the next day, which meant that I took too long over the chores and woke Stephanie up five minutes late, leading to another beating on my already bruised behind. Steph was sympathetic, but point blank refused to even consider postponing the session - "rules are rules" was her only comment.

It was a Saturday, so we went out for the the day to a nearby pub. I was figety and uncomfortable from having to sit down, and not in the best of moods all day. Stephanie mostly ignored it, but at one point turned to me and said with quiet force "I understand that you're hurting, but that's your own fault. Keep this up and you're asking for another dose. Clear?"

Returning later on, I forgot to open Steph's car door for her - full chauffer duties were a part of the package now. She didn't say a word, simply strode into the house as I held the front door open, radiating an icy detachment. She strode into the living room and simply pointed at the chair.

"Look-" I began.

"That's double," she snapped. "Want to try for triple?"

Wearily I stripped off and mounted the chair. Stephanie beat me with the strap rapidly - each blow felt like a line of pure fire on my on my already tortured arse. But it was more than just the physical side, there was an intensity to her, a spark that wasn't usually present. She showed not one iota of mercy, not one crumb of compassion. She almost always managed to reduce me to tears with her punishments, but today she seemed intent on going further even than that. How long she continued I don't know. Thirty minutes, forty, an hour - time lost all meaning. I could hear her breathing heavily, obviously exhausted, but she never flagged, never let up. She was driving herself, driving us both, into new territory.

Eventually it ended. I was so far gone by then that I hardly even noticed. After a timeless interval I realised that she was speaking.

"I said, you can stand up."

I dragged myself to my feet. It took a level of effort I didn't even know I was capable of.

"Now, draw me a very hot bubble bath. I am going to soak for an hour or so; I won't need your services this time. Call Mark and tell him you'd appreciate it if he would come over at six and have sex with your wife for a few hours. Then pick me out some suitable fuck-me clothes and lay them out on the bed."

I drew a ragged breath. "Yes ma'am."

Mark arrived right on time. He and Steph kissed like long lost lovers reunited - I could never understand how they maintained such an intense desire for one another. I'd prepared dinner, but they were so obviously turned on with each other that they didn't even exchange a word, they simply dragged one another up the stairs and straight into the bedroom, me trailing along after them. I undressed and sat in a chair beside the bed, wincing when my ass hit the seat, whilst they gradually stripped one another.

Steph groaned as Mark slipped a hand into her blouse, stroking her breast through her bra whilst they tounge kissed. His other hand reached under her skirt and began to prise her panties down. He slid a finger into her arsehole, eliciting another groan of pleasure as he fingered her most intimate of places. She yanked his shirt open, losing several buttons in the process, then briefly broke their kiss to yank his trousers and boxers down. Mark slipped her blouse off and expertly unclasped her bra, bending his head to lick her nipples as he tossed the garment aside.

She pushed him backwards onto the bed and they rapidly shed the rest of their clothes. Mark slid his tounge down between her breasts and across her stomach, and I was treated again to the sight of my wife rubbing her cunt into his face. Stephanie kept it up for a few minutes, then rolled the pair of them over so that she was on top. She spun around on his face, bringing her own head to within reach of his massive erection. I watched intently as she stroked the monster, sliding her tounge lovingly over the head as she rolled the foreskin back. I could see his balls, massive and swollen with sperm, and she worked her lips down over the bulbous head and began to take him deep into her.

I was desperate to cum, but daren't touch myself - Stephanie had made it repeatedly clear that she didn't see my cock as serving any useful purpose in the world, inclduing pleasuring myself. I had never felt so inadequate, so frustrated, so incredibly desparate to cum. I glanced down at my little cock, standing pathetically to attention. I felt a wave of shame - of course my wife prefered to fuck other men. How did I ever think I would be able to service a woman with this thing?

Steph released Mark's cock and began to run her tounge up and down the shaft, gently playing with his balls. Both of them were groaning with animalistic pleasure now; I watched as Steph took one of her lover's balls into her mouth, then the other. Her cheeks bowed in as she sucked on them and worked them with her tounge, and Mark writhed in ecstacy beneath her. To my amazement, his cock actually seemed to grow a little longer and stiffer as my wife showed her expertiese.

Eventually Steph released him and with a wicked grin she rolled over and spread her legs in a wanton invitation. I watched, paralysed with lust as he moved between her legs and nudged his giant member into wife's cunt. He slid slowly into her, teasing her with the first few inches as she bucked beneath him. He seemed to lose control, driven beyond some internal limit by the goddess beneath him. He began to fuck her like an animal, thrusting his prick into her cunt again and again while she urged him on with a stream of obscenity. "Yes, yes. That's fucking it. Get it deep into me, fuck me good. Do it to me. Fuck me. Make me cum. I want you deep inside me Mark, I want your cum spurting into my cunt," she moaned. Mark responded with an animal roar and rammed his cock into her one more time. I watched his balls tighten and knew that he was ejaculating his spunk into my wife. He grabbed her breasts roughly, driving her into ecstacy as her own orgasm tore through her. It was a wonderful, horrible sight, and I had to stop my hand creeping towards my own cock again.

Mark finally pulled his still hard cock from up my wife. Gobbet of spunk still clung to it and one long string drooled from the end, a connection that lingered between them as he withdrew. He rolled over, his cock waving in the air at about three quarters hardness. Steph let out a quiet moan of satisfaction. The noise drew my eyes from Mark's cock back to her. She was laying on her back with thighs spread apart, her cunt gaping open. I watched as some of Mark's cum trickled slowly out of her and began to slither down her cunt lips and onto the bed.

Mark rolled onto his side and began to trail his fingers absently up and down between her breasts. Then he looked up at me and smiled. "Beautiful, isn't she?" He said in a mocking tone. At the sound of his voice she opened her eyes and turned to me, a satisfied smile on her lips. "I owe you a debt of gratitude my friend. It's always been a fantasy of mine, fucking another man's wife. Now I've not only done it, but there's no need for any sneaking around. I fuck her right in front of you, and there's nothing you can do about it." His expression hardened slightly. "You know, for the life of me I can't imagine why a beautiful, sexy woman like this would marry a fucking wimp like you. Maybe for the money I guess." He gently rolled her onto her side and slid his cock between her legs, resting it against her glistening cunt. Even though not at full hardness it was long enough that a good few inches poked right through - it looked truly obscene, as if my wife had a cock all her own. To my shame, even this was still a little longer than my own erection. He cupped one of her breasts, playing with the nipple idly. "Well, one thing is for damn sure. You'll never be able to satisfy her again with that little prick of yours, not now that she knows what it's like to be fucked by a real man. Face it, she won't want any more of your pathetic bumbling around any more!"

I didn't dare say a word. I hated Mark with absolute fury in that moment, but like he said there was nothing I could do about it. I was no match for Mark even on a good day, let alone after having sustained several brutal beatings in quick succession. Besides, any objection on my part would lead to more punishment from Steph. And how could I possibly object at a few crude insults? The man had just fucked my wife in front of me while I sat and watched and did nothing!

"Hey little man, get your ass over here. I want you to take a closer look at the cock that's pleasuring your wife." I looked at Steph, but she didn't move. Reluctantly I got up and crossed over to the bed. "Come on, lie down. Get your face in there," he said.

I moved close in. Steph lifted her leg up so I could see his whole length. I was amazed, as always, by how he could stay hard for so long even after cuming.

"Hey, why don't you put that tongue of yours to good use," he said. "Clean me off."

I recoiled in horror, looking up at his smiling, arrogant face. I had never had any kind of homosexual leanings, the very idea sickened me. "Do it," he commanded. "Suck me. Take my prick into your pathetic little mouth and suck me off. You can get me hard again for her. It's your responsibility as her husband to make sure I can give her the good seeing-to that she needs so badly. Come on little man, lick me hard, and we'll see what hole she wants me to stick her in this time."

I trembled with disgust. I'd never felt so terrified before in my life.

"Come on, little sissy man," Mark continued relentlessley. "Get your lips around my cock. She's told me how pathetic you are at fucking women, I want to see if your blow jobs are any better. Maybe that's what the real problem was - maybe you're a homo deep down?"

I looked to Stephanie, my eyes pleading with her to rein her lover in. She simply looked at me, an expression of slight curiosity on her face. It was clear there would be no help there.

I couldn't take it. I bolted off the bed and ran from the room, Mark's contemtuous laughter ringing in my ears.

I threw some clothes on and grabbed my wallet, then headed straight out of the front door. I had no idea what I was doing - I was barely even conscious at this point. I found myself in the car, driving around aimlessley with tears streaming down my face. Finally, after an hour or so, I pulled over at the side of the road and just broke down. How long I sat there sobbing, I don't know. Maybe an hour, maybe longer.

Finally, I began to calm down a little and think a little more clearly.

What were my options? First, I could go back home. Steph would surely give me a record-breaking beating if I did. Hell, she might even get Mark in on the act - and I dreaded to think what that muscle-bound idiot would be able to do with her strap.

Second... that was the problem. I couldn't think of a second option beyond, well, simply not going back.

Hell with it. I was done with the bitch anyway. I drove around some more until I found a hotel and checked in for the night. Maybe sleeping on it would help.

The next morning I woke at eight, barely in time to make work. I felt distinctly grubby wearing the same clothes as last night and without time for a shower, but what the hell. I lost myself in work, concentrating on shuffling bits of paper around as a way to avoid having to think about my twisted home life. That evening I went to a different hotel and checked in, this time for several nights.

The next few days felt... strange. On the one hand, I didn't have a woman beating the crap out of me on a regular basis. Outside work my time was my own to do as I pleased. But there wasn't a whole lot that I pleased to do. I realised that I really had began to settle into the routine of doing all the housework every morning, sitting at my gorgeous wife's feet and waiting for her next command in the evenings. I slowly began to miss Stephanie - she may have behaved atrociously by most people's standards, but I did love her and missed her terribly. It was as if I'd lost a part of myself, and I was only now beginning to realise just how big a part.

I called her up that Friday night. For a long minute I couldn't say anything, and just listened to the silence from the other end of the line.

"It's you, I presume?" She said finally.

"It's me."

"Changed your mind, did you?"

"I want us to be together," I said. I hadn't even planned to say it, it just came out.

"No problem, when are you coming back?" She said. Just like that.

"I... Steph, I want us to have a normal life."

"By 'normal', I assume you mean you want to shirk responsiblity for your actions?" She said calmly.

"I mean, I want to have a wife who doesn't hit me!"

"Well, that's your choice. Good luck finding one. Goodbye." And she hung up.

Dammit! I called her back.

"Yes?"

"Stephanie, I want us to get back together! I mean it."

She sighed. "Look, I am truly tired of explaining this to you, so this will be the last time. I know what you think you want - the little woman tucked away at home, submissive and attentive to your every need. Well, I don't want that and deep down neither do you. Let me be perfectly, utterly clear about this - if you come back, you will be punished extremely severely for your actions of the other night. And we will then continue to develop and explore our relationship exactly as we have been. You will obey every instruction I give you, and you will obey Mark for as long I choose to allow him that, or you will be punished for it. There'll be no compromise, no change. Now either you make yourself comfortable with that or you go and make another life for yourself, but either way stop bothering me about it because I have better things to do with my time than coddle you." She hung up again.

I found myself spending hours lying on the bed in my room, images of Stephanie swirling around in my head. Could I go back, knowing what would be waiting there for me? Could I stay away, knowing what was waiting?

My longing was an almost physical thing, a sickness that never let up. By Saturday morning, I began to realise what a huge mistake I'd made. I had no choice. I had to go back.

I didn't ring again, I just turned up on the doorstep. She smiled and threw herself at me, hugging me firecely. "I'm so glad to see you," she whispered in my ear. "I love you so much."

"And I love you. Oh god Steph, what an idiot I was..."

She released me and led me inside. "Hush now, none of that. Come on, let's get your clothes off and get you on the chair."

I stripped while she fetched the strap. I wasn't looking forward to this, but if that was the way it had to be then it was worth it. Being here, seeing her again, only confirmed that she was worth any price.

This was different from anything that had gone before. She settled into a much slower, more steady rythym. A stroke every few seconds maybe. She was obviously pacing herself, and I resigned myself to a long session. My heart was beating fast. The blows were harder now, and beginning to hurt. She concentrated on one spot, always just above the crease where my thighs met my arse, maintaining that steady tempo.

The pain began to grow, becoming more acute. I was whimpering, wondering how long I would be able to cope with it. I tried to think of this as a sacrifice I was making for her, an offering. I was showing her how much I loved her. Stephanie had never tied me up for a beating, though she always warned me that she would if necessary. I resolved that no matter what, I would hold on myself. This would be something I did of my own free will. I wanted this to be a perfect offering, a gesture of my submission to her. Each time she landed the strap, I started saying "Thank you, ma'am."

The pain steadily increased. The sound of leather on flesh echoed around the room. It seemed that she was hitting with her full force now, though she kept up the same steady pace. I heard her begin grunting with the effort as she rained down the blows on my arse one after another.

Over the next excruciating hour, she methodically beat me black and blue. It was horrible, terrible... but also something else. I'm not really sure how to describe it, but after a while it was like I kind of began to float adrift within myself, as if there was some great distance between me and what was happening to my body - yet at the same time, I could still feel everything she was doing to me just as intensely as before.

Finally she stopped. I gradually felt myself come out of my trance-like state - not at all a pleasant experience, considering the state I was returning to! Once again I marvelled at how much damage Stephanie had been able to inflict on me. It was as if she was able to drive herself well past her own physical limits in an attempt to find mine.

"You may stand," she said.

I turned. She stood before me and even in my condition I was again struck by the contrast between us. I just under five ten tall, maybe a hundred and eighty pounds. She a full eight inches shorter, at least seventy pounds lighter. To look at us you would think I could have swatted her like a fly - hell, I could have swatted her like a fly. She wasn't even close to a physical match for me, we both knew it.

Yet I was the one standing stooped and humbled, my cheeks tear-stained, my breath ragged with the agony my cramped and tortured body was still radiating through me. Whilst she stood proud and poised, utterly composed and radiating confidence.

It was not a new thought, but in that moment it was an image that sunk deep into my psyche. I'd never considered myself a sexist, never thought of her as the 'little woman', as weak or frail, but like most men I had always thought of myself as the stronger one, the protector. Always viewed our relationship in that light. Now... I might be stronger physically, but I saw that for what it was - completely unimportant. She had brought me to this, had forced me to this point through sheer strength of will. How could I ever doubt which of us would be the dominant one?

She had me spend the rest of the day giving the entire house a thorough cleaning from top to bottom - catching up, she called it. Every movement sent spasms of agony through my body, something Stephanie seemed to sympathise with whilst making it utterly clear that she wouldn't give an inch on what was expected from me because of it.

Mark turned up around nine, and Stephanie once again led the two of us upstairs. I followed, knowing what was coming.

They lost no time at all. Both of them stripped off as they walked into the bedroom, Stephanie casually ordering me to do the same, nothing at all erotic about it. They were all business. Mark whistled when he saw the state of my behind. "Wow, you really did a number on him didn't you? Remind me never to get you that pissed off at me!"

"Sound advice," she said to him matter of factly. Mark looked at her uncertainly for a moment, then shrugged.

"You sure you want to do this? I don't want to put the little shit in the hospital."

Stephanie lay on the bed, legs spread. It was all the answer either of us needed.

"Climb on top of her," Mark ordered me.

I looked to Steph, but she said nothing. It didn't matter, I knew full well what she expected of me. Reluctantly I climbed on top of my wife. She hugged me, smiling. The feel of her body against mine was warm and soft, a feeling I hadn't had in a long, long time. I was instantly hard.

I felt something warm trickling onto my arsehole and winced in anticipation. "We wouldn't want to tear that little hole of yours, would we?" He said mockingly. I felt his hands on my ass, spreading them wide. He pushed my legs wider apart, and then I felt the insistent pressure of his cock at my anus. "Push back against me," he ordered. I began to push against it, tentatively at first, then with more force. I thought maybe if I could just get past the initial penetration of his huge cock, maybe it wouldn't be too bad after that. The pain was merely a dull ache from my anus, but it radiated out over my damaged arse like fireworks going off. I closed my eyes, clamped my teeth together, and pushed back even harder.

There was a sudden "popping" sensation, and he entered me in a rush. I groaned in pain, and felt Stephanie holding me even more tightly from below. He edged forward, sliding his shaft into my arse inch by monsterous inch. God, the damn thing looked big enough, but I couldn't believe the feel of it insde me. There seemed to be no end to it.

Finally, I felt his hips against my buttocks. He stopped there, resting. I daren't move and held my breath in a futile attempt to reduce the intense pain radiating through me.

I opened my eyes, and found myself looking straight into the gaze of my wife. As if this was a signal, Mark's hands came down on my shoulders and he began to fuck me. He moved slowly at first, pulling out until the head of his cock was pulling at my sphincter muscles from the inside. Then he pushed up into me again in one long smooth motion. He pulled back out again, faster this time, and I felt a horrible sucking sensation inside me as he withdrew. Stephanie reached up and caressed my face as Mark plunged back in, much harder this time. He began to speed up the pace, and I felt myself begin to cry at the mixture of pain and humiliation from what was being done to me.

Mark leaned down onto me so that I could feel his chest against my back. "Enjoying yourself?" He asked pleasantly. "You should be. She knew you'd come back, you know that? Knew you were too pathetic to live without her. We even had bets on how long it would take! And the things we've lined up for you... you wouldn't believe what she's come up with. This is just the beginning. You'd better get used to having my cock reaming your arse, because I'm going to be doing it on a regular basis from now on. Since you're no use to a woman, I'm going to make you into my little sissy boy. And it won't just be butt-fucking either; you're going to get plenty of parctice sucking my cock too. You'll taste my cum any time I feel like it. And of course, I'm still going to be fucking your wife on a regular basis while we make you sit and watch. Hell, for that matter I'll have to get Steph a nice big strap-on. We can fuck you together - I'll do your arse while she deep throats you." He was really ramming in and out now, slamming his cock as deep as it would go on each thrust. I began to openly sob, not from the pain but from the words he was driving into me.

"Crying?" He asked. "Think I give a fuck? I like hurting you. Think Steph is bad with the strap? Wait till you see what I can do to you. Only I won't hurt you as a punishment for doing something bad, I'll hurt you just because I like it. Just because you deserve it. You're my little sissy boy now, an object to be used for my pleasure, and you need to get used to it. In fact, I think we'll make sure you dress the part. You're basically just a maid and now a whore anyway, so we'll get you a little frilly French maid's outfit and some nice slutty whore clothes. I think I'd like to see your lips wrapped around my cock with some lipstick on them. Won't that be nice?"

He was going as fast and hard as he could now. It was as if somebody was fucking me with a baseball bat. He finally, mercifully fell silent, then I heard him grunt and suddenly I could feel his semen blasting into my bowels. I seemed to go on forever before he finally pulled clear.

I rolled off Stephanie, feeling utterly wrecked. We rested like that for a while, then I felt Stephanie roll over and start kissing Mark. "My turn," she murmured.

"Give me a break woman, I've just fucked your husband silly. I need a little rest before I can go again!"

"No, I don't think so. What you need is a little help. Jason, be a dear and give Mark a good tonguing to get him up for me."

I stared at her miserably. More than anything that had gone before, this was a turning point in my life. Steph knew I had no real bisexual leanings, that the idea of doing something sexual to another man was a big turn-off for me. Yet she had sat by and allowed her lover to fuck me, in the most humiliating way possible, and now she was directly ordering me to fellate him so he could fuck her in turn. She was demanding an ultimate surrender of my manhood, a relinquishment of any remaining shred of control over my life.

Ultimately, however, I now knew that it didn't matter. The last few days had proven to me that my love for her was so great, I would endure anything for it. I clambered into position and took his soft cock into my mouth, running my tongue over the head. At first I thought the taste was surprisingly good, before I realised that what I was tasting was actually a combination of his dried spunk and my own arsehole! Underneath that his cock tasted a little different, slightly bitter and unpleasant. I moved my attention to his balls, following the example that Steph had given me earlier on. He began to stir immediately and within a few minutes I had him standing to attention again.

Steph pulled Mark down onto his back and straddled him. She lowered herself carefully onto his cock, and I once again heard my wife moaning with pleasure as her lover filled her up in a way that I could never hope to match. She began a gentle rocking motion, running her hands over his muscular chest and up to his face as her own features contorted with ecstasy. Now and again she would bend down and kiss him deeply, or reach between her thighs and play with her clit to get a little extra stimulation.

"Come here," she said to me. "Get between Mark's legs and give his balls a licking."

I moved between Mark's legs, admiring the way his thick shaft was sliding in and out of my wife's cunt. I lay flat with my nose practically touching his cock and began lapping away at his balls as ordered. Mark groaned with pleasure. I was incredibly aware of Stephanie bouncing up and down no more than an inch or so away, her juices were dripping down his shaft and I was lapping them up as they reached his heavy scrotum. Amazingly, I felt myself getting hard. Not because I was licking another mans testicles - I hadn't developed any leanings in that direction. Rather, it was the thought that I was giving myself over so completely to Stephanie; the thought of making myself so totally hers was turning me on incredibly. I realised then that it truly didn't matter what she had me do. Mark could fuck me all night long and I would willingly accept it for the satisfaction it would give her. My ability to resist this siren had diminished to nothing.

I felt Mark's ball sac tighten, and it was clear that he was close to cuming again. "Oh yes," Stephanie cried in pleasure, "I want it inside me, I want your spunk in my cunt. Fuck me deep and hard my man, fuck me like your life depended on it! Do it now!"

With that both Steph and Mark went wild, losing all control of themselves. They fucked like animals, tearing at one another with their nails and pistoning his cock in and out of her at an amazing rate. I even felt myself getting carried along with the rhythm; I had a hard time keeping contact with his balls, but I was licking them as wildly as I could. After perhaps two minutes of this Steph's head went back and she let out a terrific yell of sheer ecstasy. Mark kept jerking away beneath her for the whole duration of her orgasm; once she relaxed he let himself go, pumping his seed deep into my wife's cunt.

Steph collapsed on the bed and looked me in the eye. "Clean me out," she said lazily. I threw myself between her legs and bent to my task, lapping her lover's sperm from her hole. Stephanie let me lick her out for maybe ten minutes while she recovered from what had probably been the most intense fucking of her life, then pushed me away.

"You sleep at the foot of the bed," she told me, giving me a semi-serious kick to the ass. I grunted in pain and hurried to obey.

Stephanie and Mark turned the bedside lamps off and cuddled one another as I climbed onto the floor and curled up at the foot of the bed. As I lay there, drifting off to sleep with my body battered and bruised from the attentions of my wife and her lover, I felt a peace that I had rarely known before. Curled up there beneath my wife's feet, I had found my rightful place in life.