Absolute Control

Chapter 1.

Peter enjoyed the relationship he had with his wife enormously. From the very outset she had taken the lead, and he was only too happy to follow. It was Fiona who started to chat him up when they first met at a friend's wedding, Fiona who asked him out on their on a date and Fiona who eventually proposed marriage.

Fiona was the main breadwinner, organized their social life and gave Peter instructions on almost every aspect of their domestic life together. But to their friends and family it didn't appear that way at all. They were always very relaxed in each other's company, were superb hosts and gave the impression that they were, no more than that, they were actually very much in love.

They lived comfortably in the suburbs, both commuting to work each morning and applying themselves diligently to their careers.

This had been going on for nearly a year after their marriage when the relationship began to change, at first in a very subtle way, and it all started in the bedroom......

"Peter, would you be a darling and bring a glass of water up with you when you come to bed, and don't be too long."

Fiona was ready for bed, and stretching her arms above her head she reluctantly lifted her feet from Peter's lap and climbed off the sofa." Peter had been massaging her toes through her stockinged feet for most of the evening as they half watched some French film with sub-titles on the television, which neither of them really enjoyed.

"I'm coming now too, Fi.'

Peter slapped the top of his thighs with his hands and stood up, pointing the remote at the television like a gun and turned the French off without a second thought.

"Au Revoir losers."

Their relationship was still very fresh, and they both looked forward to bed, making love nearly every night, usually in quite a vanilla way.

Peter climbed into bed and cuddled up to his wife, smelling her minty breath and playfully kissing the tip of her nose.

"Naught, naughty. Peter has disobeyed me. No sex for you tonight."

Fiona smiled at her husband, kissing him passionately and guiding his fingers down between her legs. She gasped as Peter skillfully and softly caressed her in the familiar way that they had nurtured together. They just knew how to please each other, using familiar techniques that always made them climax. Fiona rubbed against his fingers, running her hands through his long black hair, biting his top lip and rolling him onto his back. She just loved being on top, and would sometimes fantasize that she was the one doing the thrusting, but she vowed that she could never ever reveal that fantasy, even to Peter.

Peter started to move his hips, rubbing his erect penis against Fiona's stomach as he continued to ease his soaking fingers in and out of his very excited wife.

"No Peter, I said no and I meant it."

Fiona lifted herself up onto her knees and away from Peter's phallus, and grabbing hold of the headboard she pulled herself up over his face.

"Put your hands behind your head Peter, right now."

Peter was enjoying this little game and locked his still wet fingers together behind his head as Fiona slowly lowered herself down onto his face.

"Now make me cum Peter. Concentrate solely on my pleasure."

Peter looked up at the curls, the wet fullness of Fiona's lust and closed his eyes as the musty sensations descended on his nose and tongue. Fiona started slowly, grinding her hips back and forth over Peter's face, feeling his tongue searching hungrily inside her. She began to press harder, sitting down and clamping her knees down hard on Peter's elbows.

"Come on boy, work for Mummy."

Her voice was thick with lust, and Peter could tell that she was expecting his tongue to find the spot and do it's job properly. He gasped for breath, feeling his cheeks redden as the top of Fiona's thighs rubbed hard against his face, clamping him in position. After an age she rose up, giving him a chance to gasp in a breath, before she pressed back down again, this time faster and harder, her head back, bucking her hips, riding him like a saddle, oblivious to his comfort or needs.

Then a rising scream, faster and faster, two, three final pushes, a half smile as the rising flutter between her legs flowed upwards and took over her whole body. She fell back onto her hands, losing control momentarily as the juices flooded out and she climaxed joyously into Peter's open mouth.

After a moment she felt Peter's head start to wriggle free.

"Don't you dare move. Not one inch Peter."

Peter was startled at the severity of Fiona's tone. Usually when she climaxed she would curl up to him in a loving embrace and after a few moments it would be his turn. Despite his jaw aching his penis had hardened, in a Pavlovian response to the exquisite anticipation of entering his beloved Fi.

"I have not finished with you yet, Peter."

This time her voice was more kindly. She pushed herself up with her hands, and looked down on him, their eyes meeting. She continued to clamp his face, sitting down hard to keep his mouth open.

"I have a gift for you, as you made Mummy's cummy so nice."

Peter wondered if she would take his penis into his mouth. This had happened a few times early in their courtship, and it had been quite lovely. His cock hardened even more at the thought, and he felt a rush of adrenalin. But then it came. At first he was not aware what was happening. He felt a salty taste in him mouth, something warm. But soon it filled the space and he felt himself swallowing, automatically. Then again. He realised then what was happening, but there was absolutely nothing he could do. As he struggled Fiona clamped tighter around his head.

"You are not being ungrateful, are you Peter?" Fiona said slowly.

"Be a good boy now, swallow for Mummy."

Peter had to concentrate. Fiona carefully controlled her releases, ensuring that he swallowed each mouthful before she continued. She wanted to ensure that every drop was consumed. Every drop. As she looked down she could see her husband's eyes looking up at her. She was completely dominating him and it was really really turning her on.

At last she finished, and she lifted herself momentarily from his face allowing him to breathe properly. His lips were wet, but he had completed his task entirely to Fiona's satisfaction.

"Dry me Peter, there's a good boy. "

Peter used the tip of his tongue searching out the tiny beads of dew on her hair, feeling the textures, taking in the sweet mix of aromas, worshipping his beautiful wife. She moved forward, impaling herself onto the tip of his nose, sliding backwards and forward, teasing him with all kinds of olfactory delights.

Finally, just as Peter started to explore further with his tongue, she lifted herself up, swinging her leg over his chest and snuggling back down into the bed, curling herself around his back.

Peter tried to turn and face her, but Fiona was having none of that.

"No Peter, you stay there, and go to sleep."

"But Fi, aren't we going to...."

"Peter you disobeyed me. As a consequence you are not going to have sex with me tonight, at least not on your terms. Now go to sleep, and we will talk about it more in the morning."

"But, what do you mean I disobeyed you. What sort of language is that Fi?"

Peter sounded cross.

"Don't get all huffy Peter, you know I don't like it. You failed to bring me a glass of water as I asked you to. So the punishment is you will not have sex with me."

"But that is ridic...."

"Stop it Peter. Right now. Go to sleep before I really get cross."

Peter got out of bed, and Fiona heard him stomp into the bathroom, returning with a glass of water, which he banged down hard on the bedside table next to Fiona.

"There. Satisfied now. Is that obedient enough for you?"

Fiona sat up, turned on the bedside light, calmly took a sip and placed the glass back down on the table. She was really enjoying this, but just couldn't quite understand why.

Peter sat on the bed next to her, and Fiona lovingly ran her hand down his back.

"Shhh, shhh, my love. Such a silly little outburst. Now come back to bed."

As they snuggled up together again, Fiona pressed herself up against Peter's back, curling her leg around his hip. Her fingertips tap tapped the top of his penis, and she could feel how hard it was. Peter gasped.

"Please Fi, can we."

"No Peter, we cannot. Hush now and sleep."

Eventually they both drifted off to sleep, but a light had been turned on inside Fiona's head, and she liked what she could see. A lot.

Over breakfast the next morning Fiona ran her finger around the rim of her coffee cup and tilted her head to one side. She then looked up slowly at her husband as he scooped his cornflakes up and into his mouth.

Peter looked up and met her gaze.

"What?"

Peter spoke with his mouth full, a drop of milk running down his chin.

Fiona looked at him in silence for a moment, then stood up and walked into the hall. She went up close to the hall mirror, licked her index finger and made a minor adjustment to her mascara, before putting on her jacket and picking up a matching clasp bag. She looked every inch the powerful young executive. Impeccably dressed, vibrant, focused and in total control.

She stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Come and wave me off dear."

Fiona crooked her finger and looked at him without smiling.

Peter hated this part of the day. It clearly made sense for his wife to work as she could earn four times as much as Peter, but did she have to insist on this ritual every morning. He felt like a housewife standing at the door, giving his wife a peck on the cheek and watching her drive off, leaving him to the dishes and the washing before he eventually got dressed and started writing.

In her heels Fiona was a little taller than Peter, and as she left that morning she put a hand on his shoulder, and looked down on him slightly. She loved this part of her day.

"We will have a little talk tonight dear," she said, patting the end of his nose with her finger. He looked at her, beautifully dressed and confident, whilst he, in stark contrast, stood in his pajamas, a pinny round his waist, holding his wife's dirty breakfast bowl in his hand.

Then she left. Peter watched the car disappear behind the privet hedge and closed the door. He loved his wife, but somehow he sensed that something was missing, and he couldn't quite think what it could be.

As Fiona drove through London, her painted fingernails drumming on the steering wheel, she knew exactly what was missing from their relationship and precisely what she intended to do about it.

As the day unfolded Fiona grew in confidence and felt sexier than ever. Peter shuffled around the house listlessly, the highlight of his day being the moment, on his knees in front of the washing machine, that he ejaculated into his wife's dirty panties, before guiltily stuffing them in the wash and shutting the door.

Over dinner that evening Fiona poked and prodded at her pasta absentmindedly, occasionally looking out of the window and then at Peter. She watched as he shoveled the food onto his fork gorging on the thick, creamy goo in front of him. For the second time that day Fiona felt a little disappointed with her husband.

"Peter, I have been thinking about last night. I enjoyed myself."

Her husband wiped his mouth with his napkin and looked up at her.

"Did you enjoy yourself Peter?"

Peter blushed. He always felt incredibly uncomfortable discussing sex and hoped that Fiona would change the subject, and quickly.

"It was ok. You seemed to enjoy it a lot, but I felt a bit frustrated in the end. How is the pasta honey?"

"The pasta is fine Peter, don't change the subject. So, Peter, how do you feel today? Still frustrated, or did you wank into my panties again?"

Peter blushed scarlet with embarrassment and wriggled in his seat. Fiona smiled to herself, and with elbows on the table, lent forward, eyebrows raised, resting her chin on her locked hands.

"Hmmm? Still frustrated?"

Fiona emphasized the first syllable, drawing out the word seductively as she looked at her husband, arms folded, leaning back in his seat, aching with embarrassment. Peter pleaded with his eyes for this to stop, but Fiona was far to wet to stop now.

"Shall I take that as a no, or a yes Peter?" Fiona maintained her stare, unblinking, looking at her husband, awaiting his response with interest.

"It, it was ok on reflection, I mean, thinking about it today. I quite liked the control actually. Can we talk about something else?"

Fiona felt an extraordinary thrill inside. A heady mind-blowing rush of adrenalin. This was one of the most erotic moments in their marriage and she was determined to make it last as long as possible.

"That is good Peter. That is a very good answer. I want to explore this with you further tonight. Do you agree to do that for me?'

"You mean another night without sex?"

As Peter spoke the words he tried to sound disappointed, but his voice was thick with lust. The idea that his wife would control his sexual releases was turning him on madly.

"I am not sure. Shouldn't we be, I mean, shouldn't we just be a normal couple?'

Fiona smiled, pushing her plate towards her husband.

"Run along and do the washing-up, while I have a bath. Is that normal enough for you?"

Fiona stood up, deliberately dropped her napkin on the floor and left the room.

"Be upstairs in 40 minutes, and knock before you enter."

Peter put his finger into his wife's plate, and licked the creamy sauce. Something stirred deep within him and he went about his chores almost breathless with desire. Eventually he turned the hall light out and walked slowly upstairs. He knocked gingerly on the bedroom door and waited for a reply.

"Come in Peter."

As he entered his wife sat at the dressing table in a delicate ivory negligee, touching up her lip-gloss. The room had a heady scent of expensive perfume and hairspray, an overwhelmingly fresh, feminine smell. Fiona picked up a silver atomizer and sprayed her neck and cleavage. She looked incredibly sexy.

She turned to Peter, uncrossing her legs, holding a large pink silk bag on her lap, with a large gold clasp. Peter had not seen it before. It was covered in silver sequins and pink beads.

"I want you take off your clothes Peter and come and stand in front of me"

Peter's mouth went dry and he felt a lump in his throat. He looked again at the purse, and then up at Fiona's smiling face as he took his clothes off and laid them on the chair. Then he stood in front of Fiona, hands clasped in front.

"Hands on your head Peter. I didn't give you permission to touch yourself, did I?"

Peter quickly placed his hands on his head.

"Now Peter, before we go to bed tonight I am going to give you a choice."

Fiona opened the bag and took out a pair of steel handcuffs and then a strange contraption with a series of interlocking rings and a perforated steel tube at the end. Holding up each object in turn she spoke quietly.

"This, or this? You decide?"

Peter laughed nervously.

"But I don't understand Fi, what are they for?"

Fiona looked at her husband for a moment.

"You can come to bed with your hands restrained behind your back, or you can come to bed with your penis restrained and your hands free. Either way is fine by me. The result is exactly the same. You give over control of your penis to me."

As Fiona spoke those words they both felt themselves rise up onto a different level of consciousness. This was the moment that Fiona had been waiting for. Would Peter be willing or unwilling? Could this really work? Peter looked at the two objects again, and partly out of curiosity, and partly because he wanted to caress his wife, he pointed quickly at the rings, unable to speak.

"Good. You have made a decision. I am pleased. Now step forward, and close your eyes."

Peter obliged, and felt a rush as Fiona barked at him to open his legs slightly. She weighed his testicles in her hand teasingly before snapping a ring into place above them. Peter could feel her delicate fingers pull his semi-erect penis through another ring and then felt the end being pushed into a long cold metal tube. He heard a click and then Fiona let go of the tube and the weight pulled his penis down. The cold metal caused his erection to subside. Two more clicks as the back of the tube was fixed to the ring around his testicles, pulling the tube down between his legs, unable to be lifted without painfully pulling on his sack.

"There, all tucked up nicely. Now we can have a lovely early night. Open your eyes now."

Fiona stood up, gently bringing Peter's hands down and led him to the bed. She couldn't believe how turned on she felt. Peter couldn't believe how excited he felt. Their first kiss was an incredible experience for both of them. Peter found himself in an almost trance like state as Fiona pulled him down gently on the bed and started to caress his neck and chest.

Peter felt incredibly turned on, but was unable to get an erection, and certainly there was absolutely no chance of an orgasm. Yet he was enjoying the evening far more than the previous evening, and particularly the loving and open caresses from his wife, which had slowly faded from their love making over the last few weeks.

Fiona never went anywhere near his penis or the device, concentrating instead on long erotic kisses and her own personal sexual pleasure. When Fiona eventually sat astride his chest there was no anxiety, no thighs clamped around his head. Fiona softly and lovingly rubbed her glistening pussy over his lips allowing her husband to put his hands around her slim waist and caress her buttocks.

Fiona took her time, and with Peter's skillful tongue she brought herself to an explosive orgasm, throwing her head back and letting out an almost primeval scream. The juices poured down Peter's throat and he lapped them up, feeling happier and more satisfied than he had for weeks. They both fell asleep in each other's arms, Peter burying his head into his wife's perfumed hair.

In the morning Peter leapt out of bed very early, took a quick shower and was shaved, dressed and preparing breakfast happily long before his wife appeared. Over breakfast they smiled at each other like newly weds, and when it came time for Fiona to leave for work he opened the front door and the car door for her, standing proudly in the street in his pinny waving until she disappeared over the horizon.

As he returned to the house Fiona drummed her painted nails on the steering wheel and plotted her next move. She felt wet and smiled wickedly to herself. This was going to be one almighty head rush.

Chapter 2.

The clocks moved forward and the lighter evenings started to herald in the first signs of summer. Peter looked out of the kitchen window wearing a pair of pink rubber gloves finishing off the dishes. His wife had given him an incredibly frilly yellow pinny which she insisted he wore 'to brighten up the tedium of domesticity' as she put it. At first he refused to wear it, but Fiona had a veritable armory of persuasive techniques at her disposal now, and they all stemmed from her control over her husband's penis.

"Fiona, I have been thinking."

Fiona looked up from her laptop and saw her husband's back as he stared out of the window into the fading light in the garden.

"I am not sure that is wise, is it." Fiona sounded playful and mischievous.

"No, seriously Fi. I mean, how long is this going to go on for?"

Fiona smiled.

"How long is what going to go on for Peter?'

"You know exactly what I mean?"

Peter turned round and looked at his wife, holding his wet hands up in the air. Fiona smiled at her husband, thrilled by the glorious clash of feminine colours, all pink rubber and yellow frills adorning her little maid man.