This is a dominant wife story which ultimately leads to cuckolding. My fascination is generally with seduction of the wife's dominance. If this is not your thing, please move on.
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My wife grew up with a girl named Kim, and has remained friends with her to this day. I could never quite understand why their friendship has flourished the way it did. The two seem like polar opposites. My wife Sabrina is very much like me. She is traditional, somewhat conservative, and arguably a bit reserved. Kim on the other hand is a wildcat. Both women are attractive, but Kim has a wild side that comes through in her mannerisms, her dress, and certainly her behavior.
Sabrina and I have been married for ten years. During that time we have spent many evenings and weekends with Kim and her now deceased husband Daryl. Daryl was another one that I never would have paired with Kim. He was a great guy, but he was sort of quiet. You could tell, however, that he really loved Kim and worshipped the ground she walked on. While he might have been a bit henpecked, he was clearly happy. He doted on her hand and foot and never failed to jump when she asked him to do something. His death about a year ago in an automobile accident was a real loss to everyone close to him.
After Daryl's death, Kim sold their house and started building a new one. That is where my story begins. There was to be a three month gap between the new house being finished and the time she had to move out of the old one. Sabrina asked what I thought about inviting Kim to live with us during that time, and I told her I thought it was a great idea. I certainly never expected events to unfold the way that they did.
My wife worked downtown for a large law firm. I worked as a freelance copywriter out of our home. Kim became quite wealthy as a result of Daryl's life insurance, and she was expecting more money as a result of the auto accident that took his life. She, therefore, did not have to work. This meant that Kim and I would be alone in the house together during the day while Sabrina was out at work.
About 10:00 in the morning on the first day that we were home together, my business phone rang. "Hello," I answered, expecting a client on the other end.
"Hi, Mark. It's me, Kim."
"Where are you?" I asked
"I'm upstairs, I'm calling you from my cell, but I'm in the guest room. I just got up. Would you mind bringing me up a cup of coffee? I take it with skim milk and an Equal. Daryl always used to make my coffee for me, and I would sure consider it a big favor it I could get you to bring me a cup."
"Uhh, sure. No problem," I responded as I hung up the phone. Of course I thought this was odd, but figured I would do what I could to make the transition to life without Daryl easier. I made her the coffee and walked it up to her room. I knocked on the door of the guest room, and she invited me inside.
"Thanks," she said. She was still in bed, covered to the waist by the bedspread, and wearing a somewhat tight-fitting t-shirt that showed off her shape nicely. "I really do appreciate this."
"No problem."
"You know, Daryl used to do a lot of little things to make my life easy. I hope you don't mind if I ask you to do things for me as well."
"Of course not, just let me know what you need."
"Great," she answered taking the coffee from my hands. "I really do appreciate it."
I left the room and went back to my work. I heard her getting in the shower, and then about thirty minutes later, at about 11:30, I got another call on my work line. It was Kim again.
"Hey Mark, it's me again. I'm going to go run some errands, but before I go, I was hoping you wouldn't mind making me some of that tomato soup I saw in the pantry, and also some wheat toast with just a little bit of butter on it."
"Ummm, ok, no problem," I replied. Yes, I also thought this was a strange level of familiarity that she was taking, but I again complied. She walked downstairs as I was finishing preparing her lunch and sat down at the table. I served her as it just seemed appropriate.
"Great, thanks. Uhhh... this is just a little more butter than I like, but it will be ok for today. And can you get me a diet Coke out of the fridge?"
"Ok," I went to the fridge and got her a can, placing it on the table in front of her.
"Yeah... I like it in a glass over ice." She said this to me as if I was a waiter, with no hesitation or acknowledgement of that fact that it was an awkward request. Nonetheless, I got her a glass, ice cubes, and poured her the diet Coke. I left her alone to finish her lunch.
She walked into my office after lunch, not bothering to knock when she opened the door. "Hey, got two seconds?"
"Sure," I replied.
"Mark, I want you to do me a favor. I don't want Sabrina knowing how dependent I was on Daryl. I'm kind of embarrassed. I mean, he used to do a lot of things for me, but he really liked doing them. It really made him feel good, and I hope you can feel that same sense of satisfaction, but I just don't want Sabrina to know. Is that ok?"
"I guess that's ok, I mean..."
"Good," she interrupted. "We have a deal. I've got to go now. I'll see you around supper time.
And so it went. Over the next few weeks I was waiting on her hand and foot, from the moment she woke up until the moment that Sabrina walked in the door. She had me cooking her food, paying her bills, doing her laundry, running her errands, you name it. And the polite language seemed to disappear. There were never "pleases" worked into a request, it was always just a command. And I don't think she ever thanked me after that first day for anything.
One day when I was picking up her dirty clothes to take to the washing machine, she admonished me to make certain to wash her delicates by hand. "Use Woolite, let them soak, rub them gently together in warm water, rinse in cold, and let them air dry."
I went into the laundry room and began separating out the hand washables. I turned around to make sure nobody was around, and in a moment of weakness, I placed the crotch of one of her pairs of panties to my nose and inhaled. There was a faint trace of her musk. I picked up another pair and did the same.
"Do you like the way they smell?" I turned around in shock and shame. Kim was standing there looking at me, leaning slightly against the door frame. "I said, do you like the way they smell? She was wearing a tight-fitting work-out outfit and looked unbelievably sexy."
"I'm sorry, Kim, I mean, I'm not sure what you are saying... I just..."
"It's ok. I understand, believe me. I want you to enjoy it when you do things for me. When you are done with this, wash my car, and make sure you do the inside as well as the outside. I'm going running." She turned and left me alone with my shame.
I have to confess that her behavior was not the only thing that was strange. I was finding myself completely confused by the way I was reacting to her. I really did enjoy doing things for her. I enjoyed being told to do things. I was becoming irrefutably aroused by the ease with wish she had come to control me. I did not understand it, but I could not deny it.
When we were rejoined by Sabrina in the evenings, Kim converted back to the more typical, casual relationship that we had always had, never asking me to do anything in front of my wife. But when Sabrina left in the morning, it was becoming increasingly clear that I was little more than her obedient manservant, doing everything she asked with enthusiasm and without regard for any other priorities that might compete for my time. Because, with the one exception of my brief indiscretion with her panties, the relationship was on the face of it completely non-sexual, I felt that I wasn't being unfaithful to my wife. This would begin to change, but only in subtle ways.
Kim came into my office one morning and found me on the phone talking to a client. She took a seat in one of the two chairs opposite my desk, and made it clear that she wanted me to wrap up my call as quickly as possible. In her hand she held a tube of something, but I wasn't quite sure what it was. I hung up the phone and looked at her apologetically, muttering "sorry" under my breath.
"Come over here," she commanded. I walked around the desk and started to sit in the chair next to her. "No, go ahead and get on your knees. Take off my shoes; I want you to rub my feet."
I paused almost imperceptibly. Was this going a little further than I had gone already? Sensing my hesitation, she reassured me. "Don't worry, it's only a foot rub. It will still be our little secret."
She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and her shoes were a pair of low-rise wooden sandals. I took them both off, opened the lotion, and rubbed a generous portion along the bottom of her foot. I have to admit, I was incredibly aroused. I didn't dare stand and let her see my erection.
"Mark," she said to me, "it seems that you really like doing things for me. Is that true?"
"Yes, I agree."
"I think some men are happiest when they are following orders from a woman. Are you?"
"Well, I guess it has occurred to me that I have enjoyed it when you tell me to do things."
"Yes, I think that's obvious." She was looking at the bulge in my pants when she said this. "Don't you think you would be happy if Sabrina controlled you the way that I do? Have you ever thought about that...being submissive to your wife."
"I have, but I don't think it is her personality."
"Oh, I'm sure that it is. I think she feels the same way about you. I think she would like to have a little more say in the home, like to have you waiting on her hand and foot. She just lacks the confidence in herself to pull this off with you."
"Do you know something that I don't..."
She ignored my question.
"You know how much better this would be if it were Sabrina that you were serving instead of me? You can rub my feet, but you can lick her pussy. You're a pussy licker aren't you, Mark. I thought that since the first time I met you. I said to myself that you were a pussy licker... not just a guy that occasionally goes down on a girl, but a guy that lives for it, that almost defines his sexuality around it.
"I do like it," I replied nervously but without hesitation.
