[This is a story about FEMALE domination over men. PLEASE do not read it if you are offended by this. I am always open to criticism, but know what you are getting into before chiding me for not understanding love.]
*
It was another three weeks before we saw Terry and her husband again. But my wife had learned her lessons well. To my surprise, instead of being repulsed by the acts I was forced to commit, the fact that my wife was not only turned on by them, but begging for more made me more accepting of the entire situation. Once her eyes had been opened by the worlds of pleasure TH could provide her, there was nothing I could do to satisfy her unquenchable thirst for a strong, hard penis.
It was my wife's idea to head down to the sex shop a few nights ago. Before we left, after I had come home from work, she sat me down, and with earnest and eager eyes, she laid it bare.
"I love you Tom, I really and truly do. You are the man I married and there is no way in the world I want to be married to anyone else."
Well that was reassuring.
"But we have to come up with some type of solution. We need to come up with someway to keep me happy."
"But you were happy before all of this. We had a great sex life before Terry, before everything that happened at her house."
She tilted her head and petted my face. "That's only because I didn't know how good sex really could be. It's like a person who doesn't know they have bad eyesight. Sure, they could get by before, but once those glasses are put on, the entire world is put into focus. That's how I feel now, sweetie. And I really want you to understand that."
"I understand."
"I don't think you do."
She floated a hand down to my crotch. "This," she said squeezing, "this no longer cuts it for me. This can no longer satisfy me."
"Ever?"
"No. I didn't say that. I love you and I'm willing to give you pleasure, always. I am still your wife. But I need a lot more now. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"You need another man to satisfy you." I looked away.
"Not necessarily. Not all the time. That's why I have an idea."
And that's when she gave me her plan. So now here we were, standing in front of a wall of dildos and strap ons in the middle of the sex shop down the road from us. She wanted me to strap on for her. She wanted me to get something that could simulate what she felt with Bill. That wasn't the worst part though. The worst part was that she was having a hard time finding one.
"I can't believe that don't have ONE that's close to him." She only half whispered at me.
"What about that one?" I asked pointing to one. In my shame, I unfortunately knew pretty accurately what Bill's member looked like.
"Hmm" she tapped her lip. "Not quite."
It wasn't that they didn't have any his size, Bill after all wasn't gigantic. He was just a very girthy, full formed guy. It was that they didn't, as she said, "Have the exact perfectness of him."
I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt. How could it not? How could a man, any man, not be hurt hearing his wife speak like that of another man? But I was defeated. Having Bill spray his manhood over me, having him completely own me, being utterly subjugated by another man had stripped me bare. I was my wife's now, fully and completely. Whatever she wanted, I'd give her. However she wanted me, she would get it. And damn me if it wasn't the most turned on I had ever been.
"There we are." She held one by the tip, its enlarged head even mightier in her small hands.
"That one is black."
"So?"
"So, Bill isn't black."
"I didn't know you were such a racist." She chuckled and tapped me in the stomach with it. That act alone, my little wife smacking me with a hefty black dildo, would have been, until a few weeks ago, the most embarrassing moment of my sexual life. Now though? Now it seemed like just one more piece to the scattered puzzle of my cowing.
My wife rummaged through a small bin of straps, unsuccessfully looking for one big enough to fit me. All of them were small, petite numbers made to fit women. Afterall, who uses strap ons other than women? She was getting frustrated though, and for a gleeful second, I thought she may give up. Then to my horror, she tried a different tactic.
"Excuse me," she said to the gothy looking guy behind the counter.
Oh crap.
He just glanced up at her from the top of his tattoo magazine. He was a slim fellow, as most men of his genre tend to be. His heavy black hair hung over his left eye and the giant loop in his right ear was impossible to ignore.
"I need this in a bigger size." She held up the biggest strap she had found. I was still probably three sizes too small.
"Okay." But he didn't move.
"Do you have more in the back?"
"Don't know." He put down the magazine. "That thing is bigger than you'd think though." He took it from her and opened the straps up as far as they'd go. "See?" He held it up, now noticeably bigger.
"No." She took it back from him. Then she opened a snap and pulled me close.
I resisted. God, all I wanted to do was slink out of there. I wanted to take her by the arm, drag her from the store and have sex with her. Pound her until I showed her just want my four inches could do. But I didn't. I couldn't She owned me.
I shuffled closer to her.
She struggled to get the strap around my leg.
"See? It still doesn't fit. Maybe two sizes up from this."
He tried. I'll give him that. The kid tried not to snicker, or laugh, or be disgusted. But he couldn't help it. This wirey, knowing smile stretched across his lips.
"Ohhhh, it's for him," he pointed to my crotch and not me.
My wife smiled and hooked a stray strand of hair over her ear, looking up at the kid from her bent position in front of me.
"Of course it's for him. Who'd you think it was for?"
"Well." He chuckled a bit and then shook his head. "It's just that, usually when we get guy girl couples in here buying that it's for her." He made his hand into a fist and pumped it. "Some guys like to get it, ya know?"
"Ha! Oh wow, I didn't even realize that." She smiled and stood up. "But no," she placed the black cock on the counter, "no my husband isn't gay."
He shook his head. "Na, it ain't gay. It's a control thing. It's not too bad actually."
"You've tried it?"
He smiled but stayed silent on the topic. "So what's your guys deal? You into the black guy thing or something?"
"No" I finally said. "She's not into black guys."
"Sorry man, didn't mean to offend." He put his hands up.
"Oh stop," my wife laughed and tickled a hand across his on the counter. "Tom's right though, I'm not exactly into black men."
"I don't get it then."
"Tell him Tom," my wife smiled. "Tell the man why we are here."
I looked at her incredulously. I couldn't believe she was going to make me do this. She was forcing me further down a road and I already had a very good idea where the final destination stopped.
"I uh—"
