Pet Gets Cuckolded

Mel thought to herself as she looked at the door, still not installed, just one of many chores or projects he didn't finish. His incessant procrastination was fuel for their joint agreement that she take on a dominant role to his submissive, in fact even pronouncing her his "Mistress".

"I let him off the hook, some Mistress I was," she said outloud as week prior she had him bound on the bed, threatened to withhold sex and not let him go to his beloved golf tournament with the boys - the later meaning more to him than no sex.

This scene lasted for less than 15 minutes, ending with him fucking her from behind, both having extremely explosive orgasms. Their first foray into anything that resembled BDSM was weak at best and she'd spent a month researching her role going through an email series on how to be a dominant Mistress.

A simple sex survey, after the kids left the roost for college, began the conversation of fetish and how to mix things up now that they had full run of the house. They began with different positions and more frequent sex, but the topic of fetishes and things like BDSM would have never came up without the survey.

She cussed herself out all week giving into him, his smug little look, and Donnie's inability to complete anything around the house. This was how the relationship was, for three years of dating and now 20 years of marriage, he got what he always wanted, he had control.

Mel looked in the mirror, her 50 year old body toned and muscular from her twice a day workouts, and smiled knowing she had developed a plan to take the control he said he would give to her. She looked at the package that had arrived that week, purchases to help execute this power grab, to take him to the submissive place he had been asking to go.

She felt the power of control binding him in that one moment a week ago, loose as it was; it still gave her satisfaction up until she caved and gave that control back. Her orgasm felt good, the control felt better and the anger of his laziness began to fuel her ire.

Chatting with a Mistress online she said it was best for her to release the anger and upset feelings about their spouse to fuel her dominance. "Otherwise, I might succumb to being less of a Mistress than he needs."

Mel heard the door open and close as he got home from work on that Friday night.

"Donnie! Come here please!" She said sternly from the bottom of the stairs, beginning the punishment scene she had developed that week in her head. He sauntered in, not knowing what to expect, while figuring the door issue was going to be addressed. "This shit ain't right, Donnie. I take blame as I didn't teach you a lesson last week."

Donnie liked their roleplaying the previous week, it was different and they each got off in spectacular fashion. He enjoyed being restrained, though he undid the ameuater restraints in less than 15 minutes and chose to play along with her control, until she gave it back. He had a couple drinks prior with his boss, both talking about recent sexual conquests, Donnie boasting how he took his wife from behind without her being ready, not filling him in that he was submitting to her prior. He was excited to be put in a similar situation as the week before but figured he'd get his as she couldn't live without his dick.

Donnie's coy expression telling her "I'll get mine in the end" galvanized Mel's intention and she saw what was coming for him, curling a wicked smile of her own.

"I want you naked and kneeling before me in 30 seconds," she said, putting a pillow down in front of the door. Donnie didn't exactly jump, but he slid his shirt off, looking around to see if they were in view of a window, dropping it his post workout muscles flexing and extending, then sliding his workout shorts, sweats off. He kicked off his sock, looking at her with a sly gaze before lower on the pillow. He made it there just as she said, "Time!"

"Avert your eyes to the floor, and put your hands behind your back," she commanded, getting a pause from him again before complying. If they had a truer slave-mistress relationship, his punishment coming would be three times as harsh as she had in her mind. "They have to be taught, so some of the blame falls on the Mistress, her chat buddy told her that week."

She slipped behind him and pulled out police grade handcuffs, putting the metal cuff over one wrist. Donnie pulled his arms back forward, slipping out of the cuff and looking up at her with distrust. She was cunning and knew he might be sceptical, but she knew her husband and he had due what was coming to him.

Donnie liked submitting on his terms, the real cuffs felt dangerous so he pulled back, trying to gauge his wife's intent.

"Oh my dear, you don't trust me?" She said a sweet tone. "I just want to make last week's experience more exciting, real and take us to the next level. My body quakes just thinking about it baby."

He was skeptical of the tone, not what he was used to from Mel and it was more intense than last week's roleplay. He looked at her for a moment, her eyes soft, her workout clothes hugging her body, he contemplated if he wanted this to go any further.

Now, she swore she wouldn't lie, getting him into a compromised position, and she was making it more exciting (for her), more real (actual punishment is real) and the next level (is what this scene was about). Her body was quaking with anticipation of how this would play out.

He lowered his head again and put his hands behind. She slipped the cuffs back on his hands and stood before him, bare footed. She wanted a little "play" version to ease in before it got serious, so that she could be sure he trusted her through the first part.

They had written down some things leading up to last week that were a draft of a "contract" but they haven't signed it nor finalized everything. The first was "Donnie will be punished if chores and tasks are incomplete". Second was "Mel may withhold sex or other recreational activities as punishment."

"Lean forward and kiss each toe, holding your lips there for 20 seconds on each," She was in her post workout yoga pants and top. He leaned forward, pressed his lips to her little toe and she counted. "20..19..18, etc." Repeating this for each toe. He was a little embarrassed as saliva built up and ran down his lip on about the forth one. She continued to count on each one, making him repeat.

Donnie liked the playful punishment, his cock starting to get erect as he leant forward, worshiping his wife, hopefully getting to cum before heading out for an evening with the boys. They met every week, one night or the other, at Ray-Ray's garage where they would drink, tell stories, maybe even work on a car or something else.

What would they say if they ever knew he was like this, totally at the control of his wife, cuffed, naked and bent forward kissing her feet. He figured a little of this fun, get off and go have a usual Friday night, maybe even wake her up for a second time.

He finished and she instructed him to stay forward, pressing his cheek to the hardwood floor, his legs still on the large pillow, his body not as flexible as it once was. He liked this, though he wondered how long it would be and what was next.

She moved behind him, careful not to reveal the next step, the "leveling up" as she put it in her mind. She slipped a heavy chain out from the pantry that was directly behind him, not knocking it on anything. The clasp she had on its end did not have a way to come undone once tightened.

"Lift your arms as high as you can," she commanded, the clasp at the end of the chain in one hand she had stepped over him and rested his hands on her breasts. She figured he'd like this, though it had to be straining his limited flexibility. With one quick motion she slipped the clasp through and over the cuffs chains and closed it tight.

She slipped off of him and he popped up to a more comfortable, kneeling position, confused as to what had just happened. He pulled on the chain hearing it rattle on the pipe in the pantry and the edge of the door, looking back at it up off the floor in a full kneeling position.

Donnie turned his head to see her disappear up the stairs. It was 5:30 p.m. and now he was seriously restrained with no way to free himself. "Fuck", he muttered under his breath, though his erection grew as he felt helpless in his naked state.

"Mel!" he cried out. "I'm into this, but seriously do you think you need to go this far!!??"

Mel had chilled a bottle of wine, which she opened upon getting upstairs to the new sitting area Donnie had made for her in her yoga room. The sign portraying the tattoo that she had gotten in her training, that lit up was on. She sat back in the big, comfy chair she had gotten to write her yoga flows, now sipping on the crisp, dry chardonnay listening to him call out.

Her yoga flows were very detailed compared to this scene, which she called this phase "acceptance". Also sitting with the bottle on the desk, in a chiller, was his phone and the items she was going to use throughout this phase. "What's next, honey?" he cried out, giving her satisfaction of her control, hearing the helplessness in his voice.

She sat and drank for 30 minutes, listening to his questions, his pathetic bargaining or asking her where his phone was, saying, "Ray-Ray will be texting I'm sure." He hadn't gotten the point that he gave her control. Each audible noise he made gave her quivers of fulfillment like she'd never had before. It was time to continue to "Level up" their BDSM experience.

She slipped out of her workout clothes, meticulously putting them in the hamper and moving her creamy white body, naked, to the mirror. She brushed her fingers over her breasts, nipples and down, lightly fingering her clit. She'd rarely masturbated, but she felt in a mood.

She picked up the long leather boots she had from years past, slipping them on, thinking maybe to go down there just like that, instead grabbing the leather corset. It was too hot, perfectly tailored for her dimensions, it arrived (with everything else) that Thursday. She slipped it around her slim torso, it's bust padded and propping her breasts up nice and high, leaving her panties off, showing her shaved pussy.

Lastly she put the Great Gasby like, leather eye mask on, over her forehead and cheeks around to the back. Her shoulder length brown hair spread out wonderfully behind it and she admired her looks in the mirror. She snapped some selfies onto her phone for later, body length then just upper torso. Her pussy wettned at the sight of her costume transformation.

The pantry was literally at the bottom of the steps, which went up to a landing then spiraled around to finish the trip upstairs. She slowly walked, the clomp of her boots hitting three or four seconds apart. He had stood up and could peer up and see them through the spindles. He could get more than a foot on the first stair and soon she was standing, in all her Mistress glory at the top of the landing looking down on him.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed. "You're fucking hot!"

They both heard his phone buzz on the island where he set it coming in from the car several times the texts from all his man-boy friends starting to come in asking where he was. He looked over briefly, but couldn't wait to plunge his cock inside this vision of sexy, hot, leather.

She stood motionless, one hand on her hip, one holding a crop and she stared down at him, not amused at his lack of appreciation for their roles. She was about to teach him the difference between roles and role play, the difference between delay and denial of sex and ultimately who had full control. She was angry, turned on at her own actions, and ready to make a point that either he was into this, or not as he was going to get the full experience of being punished in several ways.

She took a couple more steps down and sat back on the landing. Looking at Donnie, in a more curious way now, reflecting back on how they got to this point and how this strange, naked man looking longingly up at her his stature seemed diminished and that feeling of ownership strengthened.

She suddenly didn't see her husband, she suddenly felt no attachment to the fleshy, muscular, being at the end of her chain. She still felt the hot, burning, desire to satisfy herself, making him watch her satisfy herself without him.

He sensed his constant calling out had brought more ire up in Mel, so he instinctively went to his knees, staring up as her legs spread as she lowered onto the landing, out of reach, showing her sweet pussy, lips slightly swollen, the leather running just above her waist, hoisting her breasts magnificently. He felt vulnerable for the first time in a long time.

The phone buzzed again, her anger stirred and she raced down the steps, by his body submitting to her on the floor, grabbed it and returned sitting on the landing.

"Hey, man where you at?" she read the flow of texts from the man-boys. "It's beer-30", "We need a fourth for beer pong". There were at least 10 of them from three different guys, one being Justin, a 6'4" former college football player that was 10 years their younger, but worked with Ray-Ray so he would come over and hang out with the older men.

"I think I should reply to all of them, 'not tonight boys, my wife has to punish me.'" She said half joking. Then jokingly, "or how about I'm naked and chained, kneeling on the floor."

In a more serious tone, one that Donnie sensed immediately, "Which one is it, or do I get to choose?"

His head started spinning, as her tone displayed a distantness that gave him chills, "The first one." Again he looked up into her spread legs, into her shaved smooth skin and her sweet lips.

She typed it in to one, copied it and eventually sent it to each one and tossed it up the stairs, onto the rug in her room. "There, you're mine for the evening. I suggest you show me more respect."

He was confused, not sure as to what to do next, his knees were a little sore and his arms stretched back sore at the shoulders. He bowed forward, laying his head on the floor not looking at her as a sign of respect, he thought. He heard her boots shift as she rose up and walked down. She placed a boot on each side of his head, he could see them out of the corners of his eyes.

"I must teach you," she said coldly, and stepped over his body. She walked away from him and he turned his head to see her bare ass below the corset, her hair spread out around the back of her mask.She had a belt, from it were items he couldn't make out. She was in the kitchen now and reached up for a bottle of vodka, and mixed herself drink, taking a hard hit from it and setting it back down turning to him again. "We will see how obedient you are tonight."

His face was still flat on the floor, his left cheek there looking out at her, seeing mainly boots, feeling the discomfort. She took another pull from the drink and studied him, his submission, calculating where to take this next, upstairs or leave him at the foot of the stairs for a while. She needed to teach him some basic poses and expectations.

"Kneel on the pillow again, this time straight up, but gaze down," she told him. "This will be how you will prepare for me."

He did as he was asked, the chain and grips pulling back on his hands, his seat not quite on top of his heels, his gaze was ahead at the stairs. She walked around him, his penis flaccid and laying forward. "We're going to have to work on your flexibility," she said pushing his shoulders trying to get his weight on his heels, garnering a grown from Donnie. This time she sat down on the second step, her pussy open to him again, her arms crossed, her face bent down and she said "You're my toy, my pet".

He felt himself get aroused by her tone, her confidence. His cock straightened now from it's flaccid state, her hands pushing on his shoulders, her wetness above him. She made her point, she must be ready to have me, he foolishly thought.

"From now on if I call you "Cub" you must act as I train you or your actions will be responsible for receiving punishment. Cub, look up and see my hot box," She said and slid a hand down to her folds and inserted a finger. "My pussy aches only for my own satisfaction, and you, Cub, will not satisfy me tonight."

She slipped a second and began to penetrate herself as he looked up at her, leaning back, the smell hitting his nose as she fucked herself with two fingers. She stared at him, her breathing variable and short, her mouth now slightly agape. She pulled out and slid over her clit again and again.

From her waist band she unclipped a dildo with the other hand, not very large, she slid it in her wet box with ease, sighing and moaning. Her legs pinched in as she drove it deep. Donnie could only watch, his cock swelling watching her satisfy herself aching to jump in, he would smell her wetness as she wiggled and gasped, the phallic piece deep inside her.

She looked at him as she cried out in orgasm. Her fingers replaced the object, diving deep and then putting them in her mouth, licking them off. Her stare was that it was all mine, you get nothing.

Donnie was excited, to the point he felt he could explode right there. He felt a desire and need to take her, and take her now.

"Hold still, don't move!" she commanded as she crept forward putting her warmth an inch from his face. "You may not touch me tonight, or tomorrow. How bad to you want it Cub? You desire a taste, so close to your tongue."

She rose up and stood above him, her crotch now above his head. She pivoted and moved behind him. "Stand up Cub," she said, Donnie obeying, happy to be off his knees. She surprised him by reaching around and holding his semi-erect penis making it hard quickly in her hand. She clipped the dildo onto her belt and uncliped some sort of restraint.

He was calculating his next move, when the opportunity would come, he felt the switch in roles as he did before the week before. Taking her from behind, he could almost feel her hot box around his cock, and he now needed that satisfaction.

She dropped to his feet and put an ankle shackle around each leg, just above the foot. They were padded on the inside, but strong as all hell. She unclipped a key ring from her belt, and undid the hand cuffs, one at a time, leaning into his erection, reaching around. She whispered, "You want to fuck me, don't you Cub? You want my wet pussy. You'll get nothing."

He relaxed his arms to his side, careful not to grab her like he wanted with all his soul. She reached down and ran her hand on his balls, up his shaft and squeezed the head of his cock, milking some precum out and running it on his lips. She surely wanted him, he would play along only just so long.

She stood back and looked him over, top to bottom. "When I say present, Cub, you must stand with your hands over your head," she said demonstrating. "Like you're in an airport security scan."

Donnie presented himself, his cock starting to fade some, dripping the clear fluid showing how much he wanted her. As much as she worked out, he did it the same amount of time but twice as hard, his naked muscles large and more than toned, he was strong.

She moved around him, finding her crop she ran it up and down his body, over his penis and under his balls. He quivered at it's touch, his eyes following her, hers following his. He took all of this as an opening and as she turned to hear the buzz of his phone, he leapt out and grabbed her, the shackles sending them tumbling to the floor.

"What the FUCK! CUB!" she screamed. "You Mother FUCKER!"

Her screams didn't dissuade him, his body crawling over hers as the climbed from the base of the steps to the living room. She would get some leverage, moving away but his strength would control her again and he was on top of her, his knees able to control her kicking legs.