Foreword
I offer a quick thank you to those of you who enjoyed my first Femdom story. This is another in that line. It takes place a few weeks after the events depicted in "Moving Day".
As this series of stories is relayed, both male domination and female domination will be featured. This series of stories details a continuing sexual power struggle.
It shows an inexperienced and repressed female gradually coming to realize her own dominant desires. At the same time it also shows a determined and experienced man who can switch but prefers to be the top, struggling with both the woman to whom he is married and his own conflicted nature.
How these two vie for power in the bedroom was very interesting to write. I hope you find it as interesting to read.
All the ideas that are depicted in this story are possible. I have done each and every one of them (in one way or another). Only the sequence of events and characterizations have been fictionalized.
Be advised, there are several acts that appear seemingly harmless here. If done correctly, they are, but if there is any mistake made or if a problem should arise, there could be serious consequences.
In subsequent forays into the world of Femdom, I have been more careful.
*
Chapter One
Setting It Up
We were alone that night. The kids were with their grandparents and no one was expected to show up. In any event, we weren't receiving visitors. So the doors were closed and locked with all the window blinds shut tight and dark. Our bedroom was on the yard side of the lot anyway.
She had taken a shower and was planning a quiet night watching T.V. but I had other plans. I was sure that once she saw me, there would be no hesitation on her part.
After the first time she dominated me, I was eager to have a taste of my own at her expense. However, she was very reluctant to engage in any sexual activity, let alone be the willing victim of my sexual retribution (although that would come one day).
I mean, once we got going, things smoothed out okay. It was just getting past her initial reluctance. If I did it right, we had fun but if I did it wrong... I went without, for extended periods.
Eventually this strife would tear our marriage apart. But that wouldn't happen tonight.
We had talked of our one brief Femdom experience a few weeks previous; but the talk had never amounted to anything. I was, actually, a little surprised when she expressed any interest in having me bound, nude and eager to please her with my talented tongue. It was something I kept on the back burner, as it were.
I wasn't as eager to be her submissive, as I was in having her submit to me. That did happen upon occasion but I longed for more. I knew that she always had a good time as my submissive yet she always fought me tooth and claw.
So tonight, I made my plans ahead of time and patiently waited for her to go and wash up. As soon as she entered the bathroom, I knew I'd have about thirty minutes to prepare. With anticipation making me nervous I got ready.
In our master bedroom, I had masked a ceiling hook, meant to hold hundreds of pounds, with a house plant. It was right in the middle of the sliding glass door and about two feet from the glass. Having tested it when she wasn't around, I knew that it wouldn't give way if I hung from it.
With trembling hands, I took a home made spreader bar out from under the bed. On each end of this thick wooden dowel were small black Velcro strips that easily attached both to the bar with eye hooks and to my ankles. The bar was just wide enough to leave me spread, vulnerable and helpless.
My breath quickened as I took a couple of socks and taped them in place around my wrists. From my dresser drawer I secured black leather wrist cuffs in place. These also included an attached metal ring on each.
Then I got out a heavy duty quick lock / release strap intended for my pick up. The instructions said it was meant to hold several hundred pounds. I had tested that, as well. I took the plant down and hung the open strap over the hook. This would give me something to grab onto should I loose my balance.
Next came the tricky part. Even though I was in good shape and quite flexible, I made it a point to be very careful. What I did now would make all the difference between a fun time and a visit from the fire department's rescue squad.
I quickly stripped nude and pulling a ball gag from the drawer, I put it on. Contrary to what I had heard, it did not stop my words or even muffle me very well. What it did was make me look like I was gagged. I knew it would inflame her lust.
I could feel my own loins beginning to swell. Before this night was over, I wanted her to use me well!
I had previously practiced putting the homemade spreader bar on myself. First I had done it while seated on the floor. Then I had done it while standing on the floor. Finally I had done it on two solid armless chairs, face to face, about the width of the spreader bar. All this I had done, without anyone watching.
Tonight, I would do it, so she could be entertained by me. I placed the armless chairs face to face under the ceiling hook while my excitement built.
With only a little trepidation, I plucked a scarf from the drawer and place it over my shoulders and I picked up the spreader bar.
Standing upon the two chairs with legs wide, I attached the spreader bar to my ankles, one leg at a time. It wasn't easy and I had to be careful I didn't take a nasty tumble. All in all, I got my legs tied wide on the chairs, as I had in my earlier attempts. I felt slightly exhilarated at my success.
I used the scarf to blindfold myself. Then feeling the lock / release strap in front of me; I threaded it through the rings on my wrist cuffs.
It took some work but I eventually got the strap locked into a position with my arms were secured high above my head. As a next to final effort; I wrapped the loose end of the strap vertically around my bound wrists until it no longer hung loose.
Then I pulled myself up by my wrists until all my weight was on the ceiling hook and my spread ankles were touching nothing. I lifted my spread legs up slightly, in front of me.
Then I carefully lowered my bound feet down beside the chairs. I could just feel the floor with my toes but all my weight was on my wrist restraints. The socks which padded my wrists and my own strength made this an easy position to hold, for a while.
As I said, I knew from several previous experiences that I was secure and I wouldn't fall. Although getting here had been a challenge fraught with danger; being here was safe as safe could be.
A couple of minutes later I heard her exit the bathroom and make her way down the hall to where I hung...Bound...Nude...Blindfolded and Gagged.
I waited, as my fear fought with my desire.
Chapter Two
Assuming Control
Up until now, it had been mostly vanilla sex. I knew what she liked and I knew what I liked far better than she did. We had talked about B.D.S.M. but not much had actually been done.
She had Dommed me only the once and it had been an exhilarating experience for the both of us. I hoped that she would see it that way again but with her, I could never tell.
I heard her walk down the hall, open the door and step inside. The sight that would have greeted her was her husband; bound, nude, helpless and very ready so suffer for her pleasure.
Her voice was mild with surprise, "Oh My!"
I heard her drop her cloths in the hamper and walk softly over too me. She inspected me and my predicament for several minutes. All this she did in complete silence.
I found myself growing fearful and anxious. My breath started coming in shallow gasps but I was helpless to do anything about it. True, I could have put my feet back on the chairs, quit while I was ahead and undone my work. That isn't what happened though.
Just as I thought I'd overstepped my bounds, I heard her move the chairs away. First she moved one, then the other. Now I was truly at her mercy (or lack thereof).
Finally she spoke (ever so softly), "Well, obviously you want to be my plaything for tonight."
My belly lurched as she idly traced the fingers of her hand down across my chest and belly. It was a gesture of ownership and I felt both shame and arousal at her touch.
I half expected a quick hand job and was already semi aroused at the prospect, when I heard her move over to the closet and pull something out. Then I heard the swishing sound of a belt moving through the air.
"Oh nuts," I thought, "I bet that's my black leather belt!"
The thick, heavy one I use when I'm working construction or doing home renovations.
I heard her quietly walk over and stand in front of me.
"Let's see what you can take," she mused (almost to herself).
Then she began to whip me. The belt swished out and wrapped itself around my left side to land squarely on my butt. I flinched slightly and choked back the erotic groan I felt coming to my lips.
The next one landed squarely on my right nipple. The one after, wrapped itself around my right side and landed a bit higher on the back of my right shoulder.
They stung like fire and I wasn't prepared for them. It was a shock but I was aroused by it, all the same.
The belt swished through the air to smack on my open and available back. My erection had wilted but that didn't seem to bother her any.
Instead of an erotic hand job, she seemed bent on torture. The hell of it was that I had placed myself in this predicament. I had gambled that she would use me, just not in this way.
I was both very aroused by this situation and more than a little ashamed. The fact that I didn't have an erection at that moment wasn't that important. The night was young.
As my beating continued, she began to establish a rhythm to her strikes. She'd wind up softly. This was followed by a strike that was both hard and fast.
Again and again, she whipped me with my own belt. Rarely landing it on the same spot, she struck harder and harder. I could hear her breath coming in ragged gasps now and she grunted with effort, as she applied the leather to my helpless flesh.
For my part, I tried valiantly to remain stoic and show her nothing. We had talked after the first time she had Dommed me. From that talk I had learned that she preferred me to take the strong silent role of resistant prisoner.
Being a small person, she preferred to get into the part by using all her strength. This meant that she could strike me as hard as she wished. We had established a safe word but she had assured me that she wouldn't go far enough for me to need it.
This, of course, meant that she would stay away from vital areas like my genitals, lower back, throat and face.
The whip reached out and found the unresisting flesh of my upper back yet again. This time I groaned through the ball gag, involuntarily.
