Author's Note: This is a love story of a female dominant/male submissive relationship between mature people. This is fiction. If you enjoy such stories read on and please comment and vote. If not, choose another story more to your tastes. This Chapter is the eighth in this series. Please read the preceding chapters for context. To the gentle readers of the previous chapters I want to express my deep appreciation for your votes, encouragement and comments. Enjoy!
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Life went on day to day. As with most couples, our life together consisted of the mundane - work, cooking, laundry, cleaning. These we did together, whenever possible, enjoying each other's company, just like most other couples. But there were aspects of our life together which were decidedly different than most of our neighbors, as this episode illustrates.
The final legal niceties of my divorce from my former wife, Jane, were resolved rather more amicably than I anticipated, all through the auspices of Doreen's and Jane's lawyers. In those early days with Doreen, my few encounters with my family and old friends were strained, but not severed. Doreen, secure in our relationship, always encouraged me to attend when invited to gatherings of my family and old friends, even when Jane would be there. Jane's anger towards me dissipated with time until our admittedly rare meetings were now polite. Jane seemed genuinely interested in my welfare and even sympathetic. I was grateful for her attitude and truly pleased that she had obviously successfully moved past the trauma of the breakup of our forty plus year marriage. Jane was more reflective and relaxed than I had seen her in years.
But those small interludes with my past life were only an unexpectedly pleasant footnote to my consuming passion for Doreen. She had predicted that I would become obsessed with her early in our relationship. She was right! She was an imaginative, experienced and complex woman whose depths I plumbed tirelessly.
I never knew Doreen to have a sexual relationship in which she was not the dominant - very dominant! - partner. Just as I found sex without submission bland and unarousing, Doreen's insatiable sexual appetite was fueled by her domination of the men who served her.
By the time I met Doreen, she had developed an infallible sixth sense which allowed her to identify and exploit a man's submissive tendencies - even when the man himself was unaware of them. She took particular delight in exposing and seducing men who, prior to encountering Doreen, had projected a macho facade, often exploiting women in their turn. Some of these chauvinists became her most devoted sexual slaves. Doreen enjoyed extracting a little extra measure of submission from each for their previous attitudes and actions towards women.
Our new home owners association manager was a case in point.
A glancing blow from Hurricane Irma had produced significant, tho not severe damage to our community. Months after all the repairs had been finished, the question of who was to pay for what lingered. In stepped the new Home Owners Association (HOA) manager, Curtis Ruland. A native of Central Florida, 5'10", stocky, mid 30's, he was hired by the management company to wring some extra money from the homeowners in the guise of a 'storm damage fee'.
Curt took advantage of the ages and foreign citizenship (mostly Canadian) of many of our neighbors - dunning them, threatening them, browbeating them - until most had simply paid.
Doreen was unconvinced of the necessity or legality of this extra fee and she was simply outraged at Curt's behavior which he directed mostly at our elderly women neighbors. I agreed with her.
As the owner of record of our home, Doreen refused to pay and ignored Curt's many letters, notes and phone calls. When he threatened legal action, Doreen took Curt's next phone call and arranged for a meeting at our home for early Tuesday afternoon. I was scheduled for work, but suggested I could come home early for the meeting. Doreen scoffed at me and with a twinkle in her eye and a hard edge to her voice simply said, "I will take care of Mr Curtis Ruland."
With her assurance, I left for work following our ritual farewell - Doreen harshly grabbing the back of my hair and pulling my lips towards hers, her mouth opening to insert her strong, luscious tongue deep into my waiting mouth, her right hand roughly stroking my cock and squeezing my balls. She would continue this blatant - and welcomed - sexual assault until I was rock hard, my balls were sore and I wanted nothing more than to surrender to the dominant sexual skills of my wife. Then she would cruelly pull my head away and sneer, "Just a little something to remember who owns you and who controls these," as she pointedly crushed my nuts in her large, powerful, old hand.
I would gasp my "Goodbye" and head to work suffused with the essence and vision of the woman I so dearly and desperately loved.
When I returned that evening, I found Doreen relaxing in an overstuffed chair, adorned in a black leather halter vest, matching black leather mini skirt, 4" black leather stiletto heels and the ubiquitous gold chain which dangled that devilish small brass key delectably in her amazing cleavage. Held easily in her left hand was a half glass of cabernet. In her right hand was her riding crop, held as a queen's scepter. She also wore the most erotic 'cat ate the canary' smile imaginable on her ruby red lips. Her nails, both finger and toe, were lacquered in a matching color. Doreen was a vision of mature, regal, dominant beauty lazing comfortably upon her throne.
"Problem solved," she announced proudly. "You've been cuckolded again today, husband of mine," Doreen almost sang! "Prepare yourself and I will entertain you with the tale of my afternoon's conquest," she directed.
Doreen had made it clear that a condition of our relationship was that I was to be exclusively sexually hers, while she would continue to have as many sexual partners as she desired. Her inexhaustible sexual appetite assured that I would be cuckolded - and often. To my continued shame and submissive sexual excitement, I had asked Doreen to recount her numerous, amorous adventures. Her detailed recitations never failed to humiliate and arouse me. They gave Doreen an opportunity to humiliate me and relive her salacious experiences - both of which aroused her. These sessions confirmed Doreen's dominance and my submission and always ended with explosive sexual pleasure for the both of us - and frequently pain and degradation for me - all of which left me perversely eager for my wife's next extramarital adventure.
So - at my wife's 'suggestion' - I prepared myself as usual. I closed and locked our front door and pulled the blinds. I sank to the floor, disrobed, placed my clothes in Doreen's wooden box, snapped shut its lock, and crawled to my sexy wife carrying my collar, leash and lock.
Doreen affixed the collar tightly, a thrill shooting through me as she snapped the lock closed and attached the leash. I bent my head and began licking and kissing my wife's large, lovely feet and polishing her spiked heels with my willing tongue.
"Good Boy," Doreen said approvingly, "Now to begin."
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DOREEN'S NARRATION
I was sitting, waiting for Curtis Ruland just as you see me now.
He knocked at our door.
"Come in MISter Ruland", I said, exaggerating the first syllable sarcastically.
He opened the glass door, saw me and froze, mouth agape. I had seen him ogling me at the pool, even in the presence of his wife! So it was no surprise that he now stood stock still staring wantonly at me.
"Close the door, lock it and close the blinds. We both want this interview to be private, don't we?" I asked pointedly.
"Yes, Ms Wheeler," Curt said unevenly as he shook himself from his stupor and complied with my instructions.
Curt was dressed in casual pants, short sleeved dress shirt - top button undone and tie loosely and carelessly hanging from his neck - and slip on shoes. He carried a small portfolio of papers with him. His pants were already tenting, assuring me of the reaction I expected and needed.
Curt is actually quite conventionally handsome - tousled black hair and blue eyes. In his early thirties, he moved his 5 foot 10 inch heavily muscled frame with the assurance of an athlete in his prime. He recovered his poise quickly and smiled as he finished the tasks I had assigned him and stood in front of me. It was clear to me that Curt could use charm as well as intimidation to reach his goal - and he knew it! I understood now how he had been so successful in procuring the required 'fees' from our mostly older, docile, female neighbors. His physique, youth and assurance promised that he would be both a challenge and source of considerable pleasure to me.
