Dominating Rachel

"Okay," he said. "So, how do we do this?"

***

"It's simple," she stated. "Just tell me what to do. I am officially and completely yours, to do with as you please. I am here to serve you. I will do whatever household chores you would like. I will get you something to eat or drink. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it."

He couldn't help but smile. Although he wasn't sure how long this experiment would last, it certainly had the potential to be fun. There was no doubt about what he would ask her to do first. His dick swelled at the mere thought of it.

When they first began dating, he soon discovered that Rachel was an incredibly gifted fellatrix. It wasn't simply that she was talented; it was that she enjoyed sucking cock unlike any other woman he had ever met. Unfortunately, her enthusiasm for fellatio waned over the years, to the point where it became an act reserved for "special occasions."

"Get down on your knees," he commanded, attempting to sound authoritative. The words sounded odd coming from his mouth, but he was giving his best effort to get into the role.

She smiled, as if she expected this command, and knelt on the floor, placing her hands upon her thighs. She looked up at him with bright eyes and eagerly awaited his next order. He stepped toward her and stroked her hair.

"Take it out," he said.

She reached up, unzipped his pants, and struggled a bit to release his hardening cock. Once it was free, he expected her to put it in her mouth. Instead, she removed her hands and returned to her original position, awaiting his next order. He smiled at the realization of what was happening. She really was serious about doing what she exactly as she was told.

"Open your mouth," he said.

She did as she was told, and he fed her the tip of his cock, popping it in and out a few times, simply to test her response. She closed her eyes and obediently allowed him to fuck her mouth at his own pace. Slowly, he fed her more and more of it, and she complied by opening her mouth wider, and using her tongue to stroke the underside of his shaft.

He gave a few quick thrusts and then withdrew completely, admiring the glistening wetness of it while allowing her to catch her breath. She looked up at him, her hands still resting upon her thighs. He found it difficult to look into her eyes and not feel a slight pang of guilt for using her in such a selfish way. Making love with her had always been a mutually-beneficial experience, but this was all about him and his pleasure.

"Don't look at me, please" he said, and she immediately cast her gaze downward. He made a mental note not to use the word "please" in the future, as it didn't seem appropriate for a "Dom."

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and gently tugged on it. She moaned in response. If she liked it rough, he thought, he would give it to her rough. He pushed her mouth onto his cock once more, and yanked her hair back and forth over it. Instead of fucking her mouth, he was now using it as a fuck toy, forcing it over his shaft again and again.

He removed himself completely once more, and she panted for breath. Still grasping a handful of her long, auburn hair, he pushed her mouth over him once more and thrust his hips forward until his entire length was buried into the back of her throat. He held it there for a moment, enjoying the sensation of having his cock surrounded so completely by her warm, wet mouth.

He withdrew once more, worried that she was unable to breathe. He felt himself getting close.

"Suck it," he ordered. She hungrily engulfed him once more. "Like you mean it," he continued. "I want you to suck that cock like a cheap whore."

The words were so alien to him, yet she responded with such enthusiasm that he assumed he must be playing the role properly. She bobbed her head along his shaft at a quickened pace, and he could feel the sensation of a powerful orgasm building. She reached behind him and grabbed his ass with both hands, pulling him toward her in order to get more of him into her throat.

She moaned loudly around his cock, sending pleasant vibrations along his shaft and tickling his balls. He expected her to remove him from her mouth and jerk him off into her hands, as she would normally do. Instead, she continued stroking him with her mouth and tongue.

"I'm gonna cum," he warned.

To his astonishment, she continued to suck him, but with even greater urgency. His cock swelled, and he groaned loudly as a powerful stream of cum erupted inside her mouth. She hardly broke her pace, and seemed to swallow it immediately. His muscles tensed, and his entire body shook as several more bursts filled her mouth. Although he was completely drained, she continued to work her mouth over him. It was then that he realized he hadn't told her to stop.

"Okay," he said. "That's enough."

She removed him from her mouth and returned to her position: hands on her thighs, eyes downward, silent.

"I can't believe you let me cum in your mouth," he said, snapping out of his role-playing. "I can't remember the last time you did that."

"All good sub sluts should swallow their master's cum," she stated, softly.

She was still playing the role, he thought. For some reason, he assumed that when the sex was over, their game would be over as well. Yet she was still kneeling in position, awaiting his next order, addressing him as "master."

He put his cock back in his pants and zipped himself up. He looked at her curiously, wondering what she could be thinking at that moment. She appeared oddly relaxed and content.

"Don't call me 'master'," he said. "It reminds me of Dr. Frankenstein's assistant. What was his name? Igor?"

"What would you like me to call you, Sir?" she asked, still gazing down at the floor.

"Sir is good," he said with a grin. "I like that."

"What would you like me to do now, Sir?"

He considered the question for a moment. Throughout their marriage, they had split the household chores evenly. At times, he was convinced that he did more work than she did, and that would occasionally lead to arguments. If she was going to play this game, he would take advantage of it for as long as it lasted.

"The floors need to be vacuumed," he stated.

"I'll get right on that, Sir," she said, and rose to her feet. At last, her eyes rose to look at him, and she smiled. She really did seem at ease. "What would you like me to wear while I vacuum, Sir?"

He gave her an odd look. It hadn't occurred to him to issue any orders about what to wear. It was more than enough that she was doing this chore - especially after giving him such an incredible blowjob. Yet he felt as though she were teaching him how to dominate her.

"Nothing," he stated. "You should be completely naked."

He was testing her, to see just how far he could push her. Although all of their windows were well-covered with curtains and shutters, there was a possibility that someone could see inside, or that someone could come to the door. The woman he married would never walk around the house naked in the middle of the day. And yet, at his command, that same woman instantly stripped off her clothes and casually bounded down the steps. Moments later, he heard the sound of their central vac.

He shook his head and returned to his desk. He responded to a few e-mails, but it was difficult to concentrate on his work. The sound of the vacuum cleaner hummed from the floor below, and he could envision his wife pushing the vacuum from room to room, naked from head to toe. He couldn't recall the last time she vacuumed. Years ago, early in their marriage, he had been somehow assigned that particular chore. She claimed that he "did it better", but he suspected she simply didn't enjoy doing it.

The noise from downstairs came to an abrupt halt, and he could hear her dragging the hose up the stairs. She plugged it into the upstairs outlet, and the noise resumed. He caught a glimpse of her naked body before she disappeared into the bedroom. Although she had put on a little added weight recently, he still thought she had the perfect body: large, full breasts with deliciously succulent nipples, a smooth belly, toned legs and a firm, round ass. Even after nearly twenty years of marriage, she still aroused him.

She made her way into his office, and smiled as she vacuumed the floor under his feet. When she had finished the rest of the rooms, she unplugged the hose and shoved it into the closet. She then returned to the office and instinctively kneeled on the floor beside him, placing her hands on her thighs and casting her gaze downward.

"I've finished," she stated softly. "Would you like to inspect my work, Sir?"

He gave her a puzzled look. Inspect her work? He was overjoyed to have someone else vacuum for a change. He sensed, however, that she was continuing to educate him on how to dominate her. Evidently, she needed his approval.

"Okay," he said. "Wait right here."

He made a show of parading around the top floor for a bit before he went downstairs. He walked in a circle around the center of the house, checking the floor of each room. When he entered the kitchen, he noticed that there were crumbs under the table, left over from the previous night's dinner. His youngest child had a habit of making a mess of the floor.

"You did well," he said when he returned to his office. Rachel was still kneeling on the floor, naked, and it appeared as though she hadn't moved a muscle since he left the room. She raised her eyes and gave him a look of disappointment.

"You're being easy on me," she said. "I know I didn't do as well as you usually do. You have to learn to hold me to higher standards."

Was this some sort of test? Did she intentionally forget to vacuum under the kitchen table to gauge his reaction?

"Well, now that you mention it," he said, attempting to adopt a scolding tone, "there are some crumbs on the floor under the kitchen table."

He tried to discern the look on her face, but he could infer no specific emotion.

"I'm sorry, Sir," she said.

There was a moment of hesitation, as he wasn't sure what to do next. Once again, Rachel used the opportunity to teach him what to do.

"Sir, if I don't do exactly as you order, and serve you exactly as you deserve to be served, then I should be punished. It's the only way I'll learn."

Punished? The mere sound of the word made him squirm uncomfortably. The thought of punishing his wife for not vacuuming well enough was absurd, and yet this was seemingly what she wanted. Their role-playing had already reached a point that was beyond his comfort zone, and he briefly considered putting an end to it and going back to "normal." But she seemed so content, and he supposed a little light punishment wouldn't hurt her.

The only form of punishment that immediately came to mind was spanking, and he ordered her to bend over and put her face in the carpet. He moved behind her and told her to raise her hips higher off the floor. Her naked ass, so delightfully smooth, fleshy, and perfectly round, hovered before him. He smacked her ass cheek with his open palm, and she grunted softly. He waited a moment and smacked her again.

"You're going easy on me again, Sir," she said in a voice muffled by the carpet.

He smacked her again, harder. Her ass cheek reddened, and she moaned. He was startled to discover that his dick was growing once more. He had never been aroused by the notion of spanking, and yet, something about this was undeniably exciting. He smacked her other cheek, hard, and it immediately blushed. He could see the outline of his fingers on her soft flesh.

Just as he began to think that she had enough, she spoke once more. "Thank you, Sir, but you are still going too easy on me."

"You have to be kidding," he said. "If I smack you any harder, I'll break my hand."

"Then don't use your hand, Sir."

He looked at her in disbelief. Both of her ass cheeks were bright red, and yet she was showing him just how much punishment she was willing to take. He looked around the room for an object to use in place of his hand. Then a devilish notion came to him.

He unbuckled his belt and removed it. The sound seemed to send a shiver down her spine, and he could see goosebumps forming on her flesh. He formed a loop with the belt and held it firmly in his hand. Her ass remained raised, high off the floor, and her head remained buried in the carpet.

The first lash of the belt surprised him, both by the horrifying sound it made when it whipped through the air and struck her skin, but by the deep red welt it caused as well. She groaned in pain. For a moment, he thought he had struck her too hard. But she caught her breath, and spoke softly once more.

"Thank you, Sir."

He struck her again. His cock became fully engorged and throbbed within the confines of his jeans. She lifted her ass even higher, indicating that she was ready for another. He gave her another lash, leaving another deep crimson mark on her skin. She groaned in response, but did not move.

"Thank you, Sir," she repeated.

He couldn't resist it any longer. He swiftly unzipped his pants and pushed them down to his knees. His cock sprung forward through the hole in his boxers.

"Your body is mine, right? To use as I want, whenever I want it?"

"Yes, Sir."

He mounted her from behind and shoved his cock deep inside her, surprised by her wetness. He thrust into her roughly, pulled out, and then slammed himself back inside, driving her head into the carpet. He gave her several short, hard thrusts, and then reached and grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. She groaned loudly in response: a deep, guttural, animal-like groan.

Normally, he would wait for her to catch up, so that they could orgasm together. But this was all about him and his pleasure. If she truly wanted to be used, then he would selfishly use her as he needed. It only took a few more quick, hard, thrusts before he unleashed another wave of cum inside her. He surprised himself with how quickly he managed to cum, given that he had just done so only moments before.

Breathing heavily, he removed himself from her, spilling his cum onto the floor of his office. He stood and began to pull his pants back up when Rachel spun around and stopped him, holding his hands at his sides. She leaned forward and took him into her mouth, cleaning him with her tongue. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. She moaned - a deep, throaty sound - as she sucked and licked their combined fluids from his cock.

What she did next made him question everything he knew about this woman. Satisfied that she had cleaned him completely, she bent down and licked the cum off the carpet. She then propped herself back up to her knees, and placed her hands upon her thighs.

He looked at her in amazement.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She looked up at him and gave him a wide smile. "Never better," she said.

***

Somewhere within his groggy dream state, he felt a dog licking his toes. There was something about it that seemed distant and out of place, and he couldn't quite reconcile that sensation with what was happening to him at that moment. That sudden realization pulled him out of his dream and into reality.

Rachel was kneeling at his feet and dutifully sucking and licking each of his exposed toes as Brian lay, half-covered, on the bed. Like many of their daily rituals, this one had begun as a test of sorts, to learn just how far he could push her. In the eight months since they began their "experiment" with a Dom/sub relationship, Brian had yet to find anything that she found too humiliating or degrading. She had yet to refuse an order or employ the "safe word" they had agreed upon.

Initially, he had demanded that she wake him by sucking his dick, but he discovered that in order to do so, he had to be lying on his back, which proved inconvenient. Also, it was often uncomfortable, given that he usually had to take a morning piss. He figured licking his toes would be humiliating enough to get her in the proper mindset to start the day.

"Good morning, slut," he groaned. Very early in their new relationship, it had been determined that he would refer to her in private as either "slut" or "cunt", as those were the two most demeaning terms he could imagine. Since then, both words had become terms of affection, to the point where she began referring to herself in the third person as either "slut" or "cunt."

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and trudged toward the bathroom. Rachel followed behind him on her hands and knees. As he stood and pissed in the toilet, she turned the nozzles of the shower to the settings he preferred. She then knelt beside him on the floor, silently, with her hands on her thighs and her eyes cast downward.

Their children were at school, and as Rachel had the day off from work, it meant that she could serve him for several hours that day. Once the children returned home, they would revert back to a normal husband/wife relationship - at least, in their presence. Whenever they were alone together in private, it was understood that she was his property, to do with as he pleased.

He found it odd that none of their kids seemed to notice the change in his relationship with their mother. Whereas he used to do at least half of the household chores, he now did almost none of them. Since they began their new relationship, Rachel was much more cheerful and relaxed, and Brian was as well. They were far more affectionate with each other, and Rachel would even slip up on occasion and call him "Sir" in front of the kids. The kids seemed oblivious to it all.

She patiently waited until he had given his dick a few shakes over the toilet. Then he turned toward her, and she eagerly leaned forward and took his cock in her mouth, cleaning the remnants of piss from his cock head.

The first time she did this, it came as a shock to him. He had always considered any sort of interaction with urine to be completely revolting. Yet, the first time she cleaned the piss off his dick, she seemed to find it so dirty, so humiliating, and so exciting, he couldn't help but feel drawn in by her enthusiasm. Since that day, he insisted they incorporate that act into their daily ritual.

"I'm showering myself today, slut," he informed her. There were times when he would order her to strip and join him in the shower. She would shampoo his hair and scrub his body with soap, taking particular care to scrub his genitals and asshole. When he was finished rinsing, he would shut off the water, and she would towel-dry him. But on this day, he decided he would shower alone.

As the hot water cascaded over his head, he reflected upon the past eight months. At the beginning, he truly assumed that their Dom/sub relationship would be a short-term experiment. He believed that after a while, she would grow tired of serving him all day, every day. He assumed that once this strange desire had passed, his wife and their marriage would return to normal, and that would be the end of it.

Rachel, however, was so content and relaxed, and her transition into a submissive "slut" was so effortless and natural, it was difficult for him to remember what she was like before they adopted this lifestyle. The biggest surprise to him was how effortless and natural it felt for him as well. He never would have thought that it would be arousing or rewarding in any way to have such a one-sided relationship with his wife. Yet, over time, instead of merely playing the role of her Dom, he embraced this newfound power and responsibility and it became a part of his identity.

Oddly enough, he no longer obsessed about sex, as he could have her whenever he liked, and as often as he liked. Absent of that time-consuming obsession, he found that he had far more time to concentrate on other areas of his life. Not only was he happier, but he was far more productive, both at work and home.