A Dog's Life

"Will you please sit down? Honestly, the way you've been pacing and fidgeting would make coffee nervous. Come sit over here."

Gretch moved her long legs enough to leave me a place to sit on the other end of the couch. Without another word, she flipped through channels with the television remote until she found an old episode of Law and Order. I hate that show, and I would have loved to watch the NBA playoffs, but she wanted Law and Order. I sat down and waited.

I had reason to be nervous. It had been nearly a week since Gretchen found the laptop I use to look at porn sites. I have an intense fetish for female domination, and it was all there, including the charges for web cam visits with an Asian dominatrix. All she said at the time was, "I need to think about this." I'd been waiting since then for a reaction.

My wife has a well deserved reputation for being stoic. Believe me; you don't ever want to play poker with her. Gretch is of German ancestry, hence the thick, golden blonde hair she often wears with the front braided to hold her hair back from her wide forehead, rosy cheeks and soft pink complexion. Her softly delicate nose and a perfectly formed little mouth give her an almost cherubic air about her.

She isn't what one would call a big girl; more like strong, with a fit and naturally athletic body. Unlike her, I have the body of an old British rock star, slim and petite for a man. Nevertheless, it's her incredibly unique blue-green eyes which define the beauty that is my wife.

I've never been sure if she is aware that she rarely makes eye contact with anyone. Her eyes are always looking elsewhere or looking at her perennial crossword puzzle book. Even with her eyes closed, she's a beauty with her soft blonde eyelashes and firmly determined little mouth. But when she finally looks at you, the effect is dramatic.

There have been times when I have fallen into those lovely pools of aquamarine. Her sweetness and charm can be a powerful intoxicant, but just as disarming is the twinkle in her eye and the slight curl of her lips when she is amused.

Gretchen speaks softly, so I must strain to hear her. This is difficult when she is looking down at her crossword or gazing out of the window. I must be diligent, however; she might be commenting on a commercial on TV but she could just as easily be telling me something important.

Long before the discovery of my secret laptop, I learned to dread the times when she looks up suddenly with lips pursed, brow furrowed. When Gretch is cross, her emotions are displayed in the smoldering anger in her eyes.

I have listened to her arguing on the phone, then hanging up while softly speaking a string of German that is disturbingly pleasant. I don't have to speak German to know that she's pissed off.

She has given me "the look" before, but I have never angered her enough to merit a scolding in German.

She swung her long legs back onto the couch. I felt like a schoolboy as I couldn't help admiring the view from the short denim skirt she wore. Gretchen is thirty-eight, but she could easily pass for a woman much younger, and this after giving birth to our three children.

She placed her bare feet into my lap, saying, "Make yourself useful and rub my feet."

I have many fetishes and I'm not into feet, per se, but I hadn't touched my wife in over a week. I was both horny and terrified as I waited for her wrath to come.

It felt wonderful to be useful. It was nice to do something to please her, but I glanced at her and found that she was paying no attention to me or my ministrations.

This stoicism which is always so frustrating was driving me crazy. Suddenly, I wanted more than anything to kiss her pretty pink toes. I had barely tightened my grip on her insoles, preparing to raise them to my lips when she said softly, "Do you think you deserve to do that?"

Thinking quickly, I replied sincerely, "I don't deserve anything. I have disappointed you and I feel terrible."

She swung her bare legs back so that she now faced forward on the couch with her feet resting on the plush carpet. "Take off your clothes, and then come sit in front of me."

In all of this time, I still hadn't caught a glimpse of her big blue eyes. She seemed to pay no attention as I stripped and knelt on the floor in front of her. She extended one pretty foot. I didn't need an engraved invitation. I held her foot reverently, lovingly placing soft kisses to her toes.

She said my name and I looked up to find her staring at me. There was that smirk that told me she was enjoying my predicament. She leaned forward, smiled and softly whispered, "Who told you that I was disappointed in you?" Before I could answer, she leaned back and shoved her foot into my mouth as far as it could go.

She withdrew it slowly while I strained to devour as much of her foot as possible. She thrust her big toe into my mouth and told me to suck it gently. I was eventually rewarded with the task of sucking all of her pretty toes. I heard a soft chuckle, but her eyes were on the television.

By now, my cock was so hard that it bounced lewdly in front of me. I knew it would be a mistake, but I was willing to risk begging her for sexual release when she said, simply and quietly, "Don't get any on the carpet."

I gazed up to be sure I understood correctly, but her eyes were on the crossword puzzle in her lap. I grabbed my cock and began masturbating furiously.

It took seconds to bring me to a mind shattering orgasm. I carefully deposited my semen to form a pool on the top of her feet and toes. I looked up to her for approval. She was looking me straight in the eye. I knew that look; I'd seen it many times when she was doing business for her family's construction company.

"They say that the sanest moments in a man's life come right after an orgasm, so I want you to listen while you lick my feet clean. I've had time to study your laptop. While I don't approve of you jerking off to pictures of women dominating men, you crossed the line when you contacted that Asian woman. What were you thinking? You know very well that you have been a kept husband for too long. You are aware that

you wouldn't last a day if I threw you out."

She was right about that. In fact, if I hadn't met Gretchen, I don't know where I'd be today.

I got a job with her family's construction company when I graduated high school, but it didn't take long to see that I was all thumbs and too small when it came to hard manual labor. I'd never learned any office skills, so my future was looking bleak when Gretch showed up one day at the construction site.

It was love at first sight, which isn't surprising for me, but Gretchen had fallen for me, as well. I wasn't the only guy to notice that her denim shorts were getting shorter every day.

Her tool belt was slung low on her hips, her faded work shirt tied in front to reveal her taut belly and soft cleavage. She could have been one of the girls in those glossy calendars that you find in garages and auto repair shops everywhere.

The next year was a whirlwind of courtship, culminating in my asking her gruff old grandfather for Gretchen's hand in marriage. To the chagrin of everyone, including the many guys that dreamed of being in my shoes, I found myself married to a beautiful, intelligent woman with an impressive income from the family business.

It was the guys on the crew, the guys who laughed at my ineptitude, who began to call me Lucky after I married the boss's daughter. I'd be a liar if I said that I got no pleasure from their sour grapes, but to me it was payback, especially for Danny. I accepted the name with pride.

*****

Gretchen shook me from my reverie when she placed her other foot to my mouth as she spoke to her crossword puzzle. "I don't need a degree in Psychology to see why you enjoy being dominated sexually. The little Asian women are the antithesis of your own wife.

"I think you are hiding your feelings of inadequacy. You are well aware that you are hen-pecked by a strong willed woman who controls your life with her purse. Isn't this so?"

"I've always been grateful for the life you have made for us, Gretchen, but it is your love that controls my life. I won't deny that I have always felt this need to surrender myself sexually."

"So, you jerk off to petite Asian women that you pay to humiliate you. Does that help you forget that I have always been the head of this household? When you pay her, do you forget that the money you give her is mine? Answer me!"

I looked up and saw the fury that blazed in those eyes. I cringed and as I did, I realized that I've always cringed when she directs her anger at me.

"I, I don't know what to say, Gretchen honey. I love you so much and I always will. I can't control these dark feelings. I'm truly sorry, but I don't think I can promise to just forget about these desires, no matter how it displeases you."

Again, that curt retort, "I will let you know what displeases me. I have plans for you, Lucky, lessons to be learned. You will learn to behave, I can promise you that.

"I have some ideas, but I will give you two orders for today. First, and this goes without saying, you will do as you're told. Second, the vault is off limits to you from now on. You will never enter the vault again."

I should explain about the vault. When we bought our home, we bought a small two bedroom single story on an extra large lot. Having a construction company at our disposal, we planned to add more if and when the time came.

The time came when Gretch was pregnant for the second time. Our first daughter was followed by the twins, Ray and Sue.

We decided to let Ray have his own room and let the girls share the master bedroom because of its size and private bath. We began work immediately on a master bedroom for us.

Gretchen loves the smell of freshly cut wood and getting her hands dirty, so she threw herself into her project with enthusiasm. The family often joked about her "projects."

Gretchen was never one to do a half-assed job on anything. To the contrary, you could call her projects overkill. The result was the room which came to be known as "The Vault."

The name is appropriate. The room is nearly a third as large as the rest of the house. It's windowless, completely soundproof with a combination door lock and a second door that leads down to the garage below.

When the inside door next to the original master bedroom is opened, a recording of a cocktail party plays so that even if one enters the vault from inside the house, no sound from inside can be heard.

There could be twenty people in the vault and no one in the living room would be aware of their presence. It was a great place to get away from the kids.

It has a full kitchen, bath and, unknown to our children, the fireplace conceals a door that opens a third way to the alley in back. Add a couple of nanny cams for the living room and the kitchen to keep an eye on the house and it became the ultimate hideout. I suddenly realized how much I would miss it and worse, what may be going on inside. I was pondering this when Gretchen simply said,

"Go to bed. You'll sleep in Ray's room tonight and shut the door behind you." I reached for my clothes and she simply said, "Leave them" She returned to her crossword, as if the conversation had never taken place.

It was only nine o'clock and there wasn't a stick of furniture in Ray's old room, nothing but the single bed without pillows or sheets. I lay there and wondered what my wife had in store for me.

I was afraid that I had become one of Gretch's projects.