My husband wants to be dominated.
By me.
Well, it would be a scary prospect in itself, and it surely would break up a marriage or two. Mine is already breaking. We are hanging by a thread here. And one of our biggest problems is sex.
Lack of it.
I am a slut. Really. I am still, for all intents and purposes, a closeted sub. I had a medical fetish before I had a lover. I swooned on episodes of Rescue Squad. My very conservative parents idea of sexual education, was handing me a complete sex encyclopedia, with entries that ranged from Bathory to golden shower. I had found it years before anyway, so it did not matter. It also taught about toys, which I did not have access to, so I lost my virginity by my own hand, to a perfume bottle. Large one at that. If you think about it really, it was sort of an accident.
Got too carried away, for the first time.
My first lover was a college teacher, in my very first year, which dumped me after the first time, my first time. It hurt. Six months later, he proposed we go back by making a threesome with a former student, five years my senior. And all it took was playing footsie in a school meeting room.
I agreed.
I must tell you it was a disaster, because the other girl simply broke down. I guess in my youth I assumed she would be ok with it, because she was older. It went too fast for her, and in truth I felt somewhat responsible at the time, for I had not thought about her at all. So, here I was, still quite virgin, despite having almost been in a threesome, giving psychological advice to a woman I formerly admired as the strong one. It was a mess.
It then turned out that she had been his lover for quite a few years, and when I told her my own story, she was very repulsed.
He blamed us, and made us chase him for even a shred of an explanation.
Which did not stop him from going back to her, and me at about the same week. I actually convinced him by sucking his cock and swallowing. Encyclopedia was very handy, I told ya.
It lasted a long time, where I grew increasingly tired of him. I angered him a little, because I was a brat. I am a brat. While I did love him deeply, it was obvious to me that he could not be trusted, and that my life was not with him.
He would not use a condom no matter how I insisted. He actually favored some sort of cream contraceptive which in retrospect only irritated my sensitive tissues and made me even more at risk for disease. I started suspecting he was doing every girl who fell for his good looks. He kept telling me about his friend that had AIDS.
When college was over, so was the relationship.
He kept insisting I go back, and I did a few times, I did love him, and I was soon to know that most men don't fuck for forty minutes straight like he could, and it is not a skill that is easy to learn. But I get ahead of myself.
The former tough guy tricked me into his house when it was finally over, and actually knelt before me, begging me to stay. I was disgusted. All that talk about being in control, and he just – wasn't.
All I could think about was how threatened I was to be tricked into this, and I decidedly hate to feel stupid, let alone afraid. I was very apprehensive.
I have to get out of here now!
.
"Come on, lets get into the bed, make peace and love, the way we do best."
"Sorry. I have someone else now."
"Who could it be?"
"He is in another country."
"You are kidding me."
"Nope. I showed him the pictures you made of me. He liked them a lot."
He got really upset for a while, then he composed himself, and ...
... he tripped me into his floor. I was by now really looking for an exit. I knew how small framed I was. I did not stand a chance.
"Look into my eyes, tell me you don't want me."
"I don't. Let me go."
I got out of there real fast, and I never saw him again. If you are thinking I got lucky, I knew it even then.
I certainly know it now.
I did move to that other country, where I met my husband to be, who was a virgin. Sweet it seemed. The problem is, that now, ten years later, it has not improved a lot from there.
Let me skip his part on this. He knows I am on Literotica, and he gave me no right to his story. At least not until he asked for me to show him a bondage video. Now his story is mine to tell. And I will tell it here, because if I manage to catch the attention of you boys and girls that actually understand anything of this, and you find my story worth your trouble, I trust that you will find it in your heart to help me.
You will soon see why I ask.
***
I had a religious phase Let me sublimate my ways with prayer. Let me not think about my morning missed orgasm in the prayer house. Worked poorly. It is hard to concentrate when you have cum in your panties.
As you see, that did not last too long.
I was always good with fantasizing, and when my sex life as a married woman did not take off, that is what I did. I really am not into cheating and I was getting desperate. Did I mention that Mr. Lover Teacher could do it for forty minutes? Well, I took it for just as long, and I had sucked him off beforehand.
If any of you ever went from that to zero with no hope of respite, you will understand my plight.
At first it was vampires. Let me be helpless under his powerful arms... So what if those particular vampires did not have sex. Mine did. I made them do it.
I went into depression as soon as I was married. My life was over. Mr. Lover Teacher - the selfish - was going to be the sexual experience I would seek in my dreams. I dreamt of him constantly, and it made me feel so empty.
Add masturbation. Well, I always done it, and I must tell you I was not so good at it. I did not know any better at the time. It gave me relief, sometimes it did not work. I really liked those objects, and I bought cosmetics by the look of the container, by the way would feel like inside me.
So what, if the encyclopedia said that women don't penetrate themselves with their toys? They did not ask me. I was the five percent. The freak that was wet all the time and would not stop thinking about sex. The one that would fuck herself long and hard if she just knew how, and had the proper equipment. I think the cosmetics companies are on to me, and to you. All those bottles being removed from unsuspecting colons on the emergency room got their attention. The good bottles just cannot be found anymore. Thank you lawyers!
Yep. I said colon. We will get to that in a minute.
All the while, my relationship with my imaginary vampire was getting really good. At first I felt unworthy of the night Master's attention, but I improved myself. I imagined this persona that he could love. That he would be proud of. I became that better person, and I am not sure it would have occurred otherwise, this improvement. I am successful at a personal level. I don't always have to make that extra effort.
^^*^^
I can't tell you when exactly I the light bulb lit over the vegetable counter. I don't eat any vegetables, so I don't go there a lot. Someone gave me that idea, it was not one of mine. It should have been.
I was in heaven!
Now we had vegetables in the house. Thick nice long ones. My husband started asking me which ones he should eat, he was leaving the good ones for me back in the fridge. He is sweet like that. Which is why I was patient with him.
^^*^^
I was a repressed slut still. My desires were too numerous to admit. The vegetables went anywhere a cock would fit. Smaller stuff went elsewhere. I was still not so good at the orgasm part, I could get them readily, but they weren't so great.
Well, the book said something about that.
Women are unhappy because they expect fireworks.
I expect them, and I am a woman. I am unhappy. My desire was nothing like it was in those early years, I hardly wanted any sex anymore. Actually, it became increasingly painful, and the puzzled doctor, who really tried to help, could not think of a cause.
Most sexual happiness books seem to sponge orgasm by penetration as well. I am a big fan of that, and I like other forms of pleasure a lot less. So maybe that was why I was unhappy. I wanted the one thing that does not work. The book said it. It was not my fault, or my husband's fault.
My wants needed major fixing.
The book did commit a major faux-pas however, in its quest to kill my libido for good. It mentioned something called an A-spot. A spot on the back of the vagina, which some 5% of women, seem to have. Now, you will not find A-spot readily on Google, but cut and paste "
anterior fornix vaginae
", you will get the spot I have.
The freaky one.
The one you need a really long penetrating device to get to.
Orgasms were about to get better.
Obviously, I was reading the wrong stuff.
***
Back to my husband.
By now we knew had a problem. I was using the vegetables more openly, despite fears that by openly "substituting" his cock, and causing him great psychological damage in the process. It was not easy to hide that habit anymore, when he already started grinning at the supermarket checkout line.
He asked me for
my help
about then. I was to tell him what to do, what I wanted, how he could change. I could not do it them. For reasons I do not care to elaborate here, it was very hard for me to tell another what to do. In a general a level it is fine, but a blow-by-blow instruction session? I am not a Dominant, right? I am a closeted sub, slave to the Master in my head.
I bought him books, special condoms. Whatever I could think of. But that thing he was asking, direction, control, in bed ... it was not me.
^^*^^
We saw a sex shop on a seedy location once, and entered. Sex shop was really the cover for a sleazy video rental store. It was a traumatic experience for me, and the toy selection was really meager.
Vegetables it was.
For a while. I overcame my shyness and bought two dildos on the internet, though one of them was a Doc Johnson replica, you really can't tell the size by the thumbnail, right? It was not something I could take at the time.
Fucking great. I kept trying, and for the time being, I enjoyed the smaller one I bought with it.
Vampire books. Anne Rice.
Well she writes other stuff too.
Cry to Heaven.
Exit to Eden - oops. That book is really silly. It sounded really hot then, before Literotica that was.
Marquis de Sade. Disgusting. Sorry, not into the stuff. The first book I ever threw away, though I am very respectful of books, specially the forbidden ones. Sorry, Marquis, my kid could grow up and find that.
The Academy, or another book of the same series. Not a good read. It is about a training Master who goes sub, and uses everyone really badly before he gets there. Proof that even in BDSM, I would find the same men which Mr. Lover Teacher represented. The selfish kind. When he got it from the other Master in the end, I really cheered. He deserved it.
Besides, that was an anal sex scene. My favorite fantasy.
