Satisfying Stephanie Ch 02

This is the first BDSM/femdom story I ever wrote, back in January 2006. It is the story of a sexually inadequate husband, and the wife who cuckolds and dominates him.

_____________

The next morning saw the start of our new routine. It was a Saturday, so we had the whole day together. Steph woke me early and led me downstairs, not even letting me dress. I found out why when she took me into the kitchen and presented me with a frilly apron to wear. "Your first job each day is going to be the cleaning, so you need to dress the part," she said with a grin. "Besides, you look cute!"

She had a small whiteboard stuck on the fridge which had a list of jobs written on it. "I've never really been satisfied with your standards of cleanliness, so we're going to pay close attention to that from now on," she said. "Each day you will complete this list of tasks. On a weekday, you will get up at six and begin your day by completing the first half of the list - I expect it all to be done by seven, at which time you will draw my bath and wake me. After you get home from work you will complete the rest of the list. On weekends there is rather more to do, as you can see; you will work through the whole list in one session before waking me at nine." She gazed into my eyes, holding me pinned with her stare. "Let me be completely crystal clear about this; I require all the work on this list to be completed when you wake me at nine. Is that understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Begin. I am going back to bed."

She left me to it. I sighed and got to work.

You know how in all those domination stories when they talk about how a submissive finds it intensely erotic to do menial labour because he's showing his deep devotion to his mistress? Well, this was nothing at all like that. I didn't feel like I was showing devotion to anybody, I felt like I was doing housework. It was boring and tedious and not the least erotic - well, you

know

what housework is like. The fact that I was doing it at the behest of a beautiful woman didn't make a lick of difference.

In the kitchen I washed and dried the dishes, cleaned the fridge, sink and oven, washed down all the work surfaces, mopped the floor. I tidied the living room and lounge and dusted them thoroughly. By eight it was obvious that I was going to struggle to finish off in time, and I started to hurry frantically. I cleaned the downstairs loo. Then it was upstaris to clean the main bathroom, tidy the landing and spare bedrooms, more dusting, then change the bedding. Finally I tiptoed into the en suite and did some frantic cleaning in there while the bath filled before going out to wake Steph up just on nine.

She climbed into the bath and handed me a sponge. "It's not all housework and drudgery you know," she said with a grin. "You may be inadequate as a lover, but I still expect you to attend my body in other ways. From now on you will be taking care of all my other intimate needs. "

She had me wash her body, shave her legs, then shampoo and condition her hair. Afterwards she stood whilst I gently dried her entire body and applied deodorant and perfume. This, at least, lived up to the fantasies! The woman I loved was naked before me for the first time in almost a year, and my hard-on testified to the effect that was having on me. But on top of that, there was something gently but undeniably sensual about lavishing this kind of tender attention on her. It was an act that was not sexual in itself, but more a demonstration of warmth and affection.

Afterwards she took me into the bedroom and had me dry and brush her hair, exactly one hundred languid strokes until there was a glossy shine on it. Then she began to teach me how to apply makeup. The last was a nightmare - it took me over an hour and a half of applying and removing to finally get it even remotely right, but Stephanie was remarkably patient with me. In fact, she thought the results of my early attempts were hilarious, and a fair part of the lost time was because of her giggling at my clumsy efforts.

Eventually she approved of her look and stood whilst I dressed her. Then she went on an inspection tour of the house, checking on my cleaning. All went well, until she found a dirty plate on the floor next to a chair in the lounge.

"What's this?" She asked, holding it up. All trace of good humour was gone.

"It's a plate, ma'am."

"Wasn't washing the dishes one of your jobs?" She was giving me The Gaze on full power.

"Yes ma'am."

"You failed to do as you were told?"

I felt like a little kid in front of an especially strict headmistress. "Yes ma'am."

"Take your apron off, then kneel on the chair." She said. I obeyed quickly. "No, bring your knees forward and spread them more. Bend over - no, further, so your backside sticks right out. Wrap your arms around the sides of the chair."

I heard her go into one of the drawers and then return. "Look at this." She said. She was holding a thick wooden handle which had a three-foot strip of matt black leather hanging from the end. The leather was three inches wide and extremely thick, and obviously very stiff and heavy. "It was a present off Mark, when I explained all this to him he said I could use it to keep you in line. A joke, really, but I can see now it's going to come in useful."

Oh god, I thought, she's going to hit me with it! Jesus, this was straight out of some twisted fantasy. It couldn't be happening, it couldn't be real!

"I've explained to you several times now that I am going to be the dominant one in this relationship. I hoped that I could make you understand and accept that out of love and respect towards me, but it seems that I am mistaken. However, one way or another you are going to

have

to learn to obey. So, we will do this the hard way. You are to hold your position until I release you. You

will not

let go of that chair, you

will not

make any attempt to stand up. If you do, I will tie you down and double your dose. Clear? I said, is that clear?"

"Uh... yeah, it's clear."

"Uh, yeah? Is that how you talk to me? Is that the respect you show your wife?"

"Sorry. I mean, yes, it's clear ma'am."

"Don't fret, we'll add a few more for that."

If the housework had been an unerotic experience, what followed was the same but squared and cubed. This was not a sexy spanking, this was a punishment, and a severe one.

Steph took her time setting up, then delivered a strike directly to my quivering ass with all the strength she could muster. Steph isn't strong even by female standards - she's not exactly a big woman, always tending to the petite end of the spectrum. But that leather strap was a great force multiplier - it was so long and heavy and stiff that even she could make it bite.

And bite it did. The pain was much worse than I expected, and I yelled out in shock. Steph gave me no time to recover, however - she landed another blow and another and another. Looking back, her technique wasn't up to all that much. Certainly she's become a great deal more skilful at this kind of thing since that first time. But what she might lack in expertise, she more than made up for in gusto. She beat me quickly and enthusiastically, showing no hint of mercy. After five minutes or so she switched sides, presumably so that she could rest her right arm, but while her left arm may have been her weaker one, by now my arse felt like it was on fire and the blows hurt more than ever.

She didn't count out the strokes, didn't give me any hint of how long she would go on. She just kept beating me and beating me, until by about ten minutes in I was literally sobbing with the pain and humiliation.

Finally she stopped, breathing hard. I felt her trail her fingers over my bruised and battered arse, making me shudder with fresh pain. I was

sore

.

"You're all red back here," she said. Her voice had a contented singsong quality, a tone I'd never heard on her before. She was utterly at peace with what she had just done. No, more than that - she was

euphoric

about it.

"Stand up and face me."

I stood. Her expression was... actually she looked a little like she had after Mark had finished with her last night. Tired and happy and completely at ease.

"Now, since your cleaning skills are obviously suspect, there's no telling what other things you have missed. I suggest you go and re-do all the cleaning tasks I set for you this morning. In fact, I insist on it."

I almost objected, but her eyes told me that that wouldn't be a good idea. Her eyes, and the fact that she was still holding that strap. I went back to my cleaning.

We felt out our new relationship over the next two weeks. I would wake each morning before Steph and clean the house, before bathing and dressing her, then making breakfast. I'd head off and do a full day's work, then come back and finish my chores off. Steph held regular inspection tours; the slightest mistake on my part would earn a dose of the strap, plus an order to repeat the day's chores over.

In fact, Stephanie gradually became more and more enthusiastic with that strap. I earned nine doses of it in the first fortnight, each one longer and harder than the next. She even joked that she would have to start going to the gym to build up her strength and endurance - at least, I hoped she was joking.

Mark came over several times a week. Each time, Stephanie had me prepare her in advance. I would bathe her and help her pick out an outfit - Steph asking me which clothes made her look especially sexy for her lover, much to my humiliation. I'd have to give the house an extra cleaning and then cook dinner for them. When Mark arrived I had to answer the door and bring him in, then serve them dinner and drinks while they joked and flirted. Later, Stephanie would have me lead them up to the bedroom.

The first couple of times she had me just stand and watch, as before. She laughingly referred to those sessions as my education - and in truth, it really was. I'd always watched porn with a somewhat cynical eye. I didn't think it was all special effects or anything, but I always assumed that they filmed lots of sessions over a matter of days, maybe weeks, and cut it all together. I assumed my own sixty seconds from foreplay to ejaculation was the average, maybe even a little bit above the average.

Those sessions though... well, that blew all my cosy preconceptions away. Any doubt I had about Steph's complaints regarding my performance vanished there. Which I suppose was the point.

Their lovemaking would last literally for hours - they'd fuck one another senseless, take a break for half an hour or so, then go again. And again. And again. Stephanie rarely orgasmed less than six or seven times - Mark would hold off and hold off, displaying a self-control I had never known possible. They used every position I'd heard of, and a lot I hadn't. It was a match made in heaven, like they were two halves of one single machine whose only purpose was to generate sexual rapture.

Humiliating as these sessions were, they were also hugely erotic. I couldn't help but be turned on by the sheer uninhibited lust on display. I would stand there, my cock rock solid as I watched my wife well and truly fucked by another man time after time.

After the first couple of times, Stephanie started having me strip off while I watched them. It was hideously embarrasing to be naked in front of another man, especially one who so obviously outclassed me. Mark himself hardly helped, he was practically hysterical with laughter the first time he saw my pathetic cock standing to attention - with Steph laughing right along with him.

It also quickly became apparent that whilst Mark was more of a man than I could ever hope to be, Stephanie had him under her control almost as much as she had me. It was she who called him around, she who decided when they would have sex and what positions they would try. The only difference was that where she controlled me with direct orders, she controlled him through the careful use of reward and subtle punishment. Good behaviour was met with affection, compliments and extra sex; bad behaviour would result in a sudden change of mood. Mark didn't even seem to realise what she was doing - he wasn't too bright, a thought that was at least some comfort to me.

After a week, I had actually started to become... well, not comfortable exactly, but at least accustomed to the new arrangement. Although I never stopped feeling humiliated and ashamed of myself for demonstrating such weakness, it was gradually becoming clear that Steph was indeed honestly not about to throw me out for her new lover. Well, why should she? She had a stud to give her all the raw sex she wanted, and me to take care of the chores and lavish love and affection on her for as long as she wanted it.

And want it she did. Gradually Stephanie made herself more and more the centre of my life. A typical evening might see me sitting at her feet whilst she relaxed on the couch watching television. I would crouch at her side, holding her drink whilst I simply gazed at her. She said she enjoyed being the centre of attention, it made her feel that nothing else in the world mattered to me. I realised that she was gradually forcing me deeper and deeper into submission, slowly imposing greater and greater restrictions. When I hesitantly brought this up, she simply smiled.

"But of course I am," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Darling, haven't you grasped what we're doing here?"

"Um, well, some of it ma'am." I replied. The form of address was now so natural that I barely even noticed that I was using it.

"We're on a journey here Jason. We've made a huge change in our relationship, you can't expect it to be a simple thing. I'm as much a novice to being in charge as you are to having me in charge. I can't just lay down a set of rules and say 'that's it, so far and no further' - we need to see where it will balance out. We won't know where the limits are until we've pushed a little bit past them."

"But what if I'm not comfortable already, ma'am?" I asked plaintively.

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't be impertinent."

I flinched. "Sorry ma'am."

"It's a valid enough question. Just watch your tone." She sighed. "Look, I wish you would be more open to this. You've resisted and complained every step of the way. It's frustrating, and it's

pointless

!"

I took a deep breath. I was only too well aware of what pushing her too far would mean - my arse still hurt from yesterday's beating. "It's just, well, our perspectives are a little different ma'am. I don't mean to offend, but you're taking us to a place where you get more and more, but I get less and less. If I may say so ma'am"

"I know that's how it seems, but that's just scratching the surface." She looked at me earnestly. "Think about how today has been. You've worked hard for me - the house is spotless, and that's something

you

have done. Doesn't that make you feel just a little bit proud?"

I looked around the living room. It was, as she said, spotless. "I guess so ma'am. A little."

"You've looked after your wife, cared for her and protected her in a way that few men could match. Isn't that true?"

"Yes ma'am, that's certainly true."

"Now think back to how you felt spending your nights sitting in a pub imagining what I was getting up to in the bedroom. Think about how we

both

felt before that, when our relationship was falling apart because we could barely talk to one another. Which is better?"

I couldn't deny it. We'd been through the wringer to be sure. "This is."

"And how would a divorce have felt?"

I actually felt a shiver go up my spine. I couldn't speak, but she could read the answer in my face. "See? This

is

the best way, you know it is. So all that resistance, all that opposition - and now you admit I was right all along!"

"I guess so ma'am." I was far from certain. It sounded like it made sense, but I Steph had this way of making the most bizarre things sound reasonable.

"And sexually - you make a big deal of how terrible it is watching me and Mark, but you sit there with a raging hard-on the entire time. Tell me that's not true!"

I lowered my eyes, blushing. She put a finger under my chin and lifted my head. "There," she said gently, "

that's

the problem. I

know

you Jason, better than you know yourself. You're turned on by watching Mark fuck me, you always have been. But every time you try to admit it, this horrible shame wells up in you. You want to give in to the shame, fight against your own desires. Well that's damaging and it's wrong - we both did that, and it almost destroyed us. Well I won't do it any more, and I won't allow you to do it either. You think I'm trying to enslave you, Jason? Well, my real purpose here is to set you free."

I sensed that she was ready to end the conversation, but I had to ask one more question. "And the beatings ma'am?"

"Nobody said this would be easy, Jason. What I am doing is right, and it's for your own good. You don't spank a child for pleasure, you do it so that the child learns the proper way to behave."

"I'm not a child," I said. Too sharply.

Her expression hardened. Had I gone too far? "Then I suggest you stop behaving like one and start being a little more positive."

I lowered my eyes again. "Yes ma'am."

"Good. Now get onto the chair. I won't have you taking that tone with me."

That punishment was particularly bad - I was still really sore the next day, which meant that I took too long over the chores and woke Stephanie up five minutes late, leading to

another

beating on my already bruised behind. Steph was sympathetic, but point blank refused to even consider postponing the session - "rules are rules" was her only comment.

It was a Saturday, so we went out for the the day to a nearby pub. I was figety and uncomfortable from having to sit down, and not in the best of moods all day. Stephanie mostly ignored it, but at one point turned to me and said with quiet force "I understand that you're hurting, but that's your own fault. Keep this up and you're asking for another dose. Clear?"

Returning later on, I forgot to open Steph's car door for her - full chauffer duties were a part of the package now. She didn't say a word, simply strode into the house as I held the front door open, radiating an icy detachment. She strode into the living room and simply pointed at the chair.

"Look-" I began.

"That's double," she snapped. "Want to try for triple?"

Wearily I stripped off and mounted the chair. Stephanie beat me with the strap rapidly - each blow felt like a line of pure fire on my on my already tortured arse. But it was more than just the physical side, there was an intensity to her, a

spark

that wasn't usually present. She showed not one iota of mercy, not one crumb of compassion. She almost always managed to reduce me to tears with her punishments, but today she seemed intent on going further even than that. How long she continued I don't know. Thirty minutes, forty, an hour - time lost all meaning. I could hear her breathing heavily, obviously exhausted, but she never flagged, never let up. She was driving herself, driving us both, into new territory.

Eventually it ended. I was so far gone by then that I hardly even noticed. After a timeless interval I realised that she was speaking.

"I

said

, you can stand up."

I dragged myself to my feet. It took a level of effort I didn't even know I was capable of.

"Now, draw me a very hot bubble bath. I am going to soak for an hour or so; I won't need your services this time. Call Mark and tell him you'd appreciate it if he would come over at six and have sex with your wife for a few hours. Then pick me out some suitable fuck-me clothes and lay them out on the bed."