The Converter

This is a work of fantasy and kink. It has some themes many people might find objectionable, including cuckolding, lesbian conversion, and male sexual dominance. Please understand the character's views are not the author's views. The author does not have anything against people of any gender or sexuality, and believes anyone who does is a bigot. Any constructive criticism or notes are greatly appreciated but please do not turn the comments into a political firestorm.

Thank you for reading! Let me know in the comments if you want a second chapter!

* * * * *

"Hey, honey," I texted my wife when I got home. "Almost done with your workout? Going to be home soon?"

I set the groceries down and began getting dinner ready. As I closed the fridge, the photo on the front caught my eye. "Sarah and Jessica, in love forever" read the frame. It was from our wedding day. It was hard to believe it was three years already.

Our wedding day had been magical. Both of us looked radiant in white wedding gowns, in matching short pixie hairdos - mine dyed green, hers blue.

I could still remember our first kiss as wife and wife. "You taste divine, Jessica," Sarah had told me after kissing my lips. I never wore a different lip gloss again.

My phone buzzed with a text from Sarah: "Yeah, on my way. Sorry, traffic, running late."

I smiled. I had known my wife long enough to know she was punctual to a fault ... *except* when she was working out. If she was late it was because she stayed to get in just one more rep. And one more rep. And one more ... Still, I had to admit, it was hard to argue with the results. While I could occasionally become exasperated at my wife's workouts taking up time, well, there's no polite way of saying it so I'll just say it: my wife is a knockout.

She's taller than me - close to four inches taller than my 5'2". When she flexes, her abs, thighs, and ass look like they're chiseled from marble, like a greek goddess, but when she isn't flexing she still manages to look soft and feminine. Her face is slender, heart-shaped, with deep blue eyes that draw you in like magnets. She has the kind of face that looks innocent and trusting, but also makes anyone wonder what it would look like, tossed back and screaming in pleasure. And her tits? One word: Mouth. Watering.

I let my mind wander to my "after-dinner plans" as I started cooking Sarah's favorite dinner: spaghetti and meatballs. A timeless classic - she liked to say it's her favorite dish to eat because it reminds her of me. I blushed, remembering the first time she'd made the crude joke. "It's just like you," she'd whispered over the table at our favorite Italian spot. "Delicious, dripping wet with sauce, and just *begging* for someone to lick it all up."

Sarah finally got home just as dinner was finishing. She hugged me from behind.

"Hey, sexy!" she said, cupping my breasts from behind.

I smiled and slapped her hands away, then spun to face her. She looked stunning in a pair of tight black workout/yoga pants and a matching black sports bra that left her toned midriff bare. Her whole body was glistening with sweat.

"Sexy yourself, damn," I laughed. I kissed her deeply. I broke only to say "Happy third anniversary, hon."

"You too, baby. And here's to thirty more ... right after I shower."

She skipped away as I yelled and chased after her. "No! You're late for dinner already!"

"You sure there isn't anything I could do to convince you it was ok?" she teased as she pulled her sweaty sports bra over her head. "Nothing at all?"

I chased her into the bathroom and gazed lustfully after her as she stepped behind the frosted glass of the shower. The glass obscured her features some, but couldn't hide how stunning she looked. I envied the water for a moment as it cascaded over her naked body, following her form down her neck, over her collarbone, down the valley between her large breasts, and down further ... down her abdomen ... over her trim waist and wider hips -

"Are you staring at me again?" Sarah giggled, breaking me from my train of thought. "You really shouldn't have such a one-track mind, you know?"

I laughed back. "Ok, ok - I'm sorry for objectifying you, baby. Tell me, how was your day? Have a good workout?"

"It was kinda meh, actually," she replied. "There was some new guy there - he'd probably heard this gym was the one where the hottest women in the city went to work out and not be bothered."

"Ugh, men," I agreed.

"Yeah. So, this dude was there, and didn't even seem like he was there to work out. He was just ogling the women and playing on his laptop. Eventually the staff asked him what was up, and he said he was testing some software or something? Get this - one of the staff said he'd called it 'Master PC'?"

"That's ... odd," I said.

"What a dork, right?" Sarah asked. She turned off the water, stepped out, and began drying herself off. I stared at her as she did, and she smiled and let me. "Anyway, staff kicked him out. I don't think we'll ever see him again."

"Good," I said. "Now, I hope it's not too forward, but I got you something to wear. Call it an anniversary present."

Sarah raised her eyes at me, surprised. I could tell what she was thinking - usually she was the one in control, giving me orders on what to wear. I blushed as she gazed at me, but I managed to point at the package waiting for her. She finished drying off then opened it.

It was a set of black lingerie. Completely impractical for daily wear, it was too sexy for real use. It was the kind of thing you could only have for changing into right before someone took it off you. A small cup sat under each breast, lifting but not covering them at all, and the panties, such as they were, were crotchless. It came with thigh-high stockings.

Sarah stared at me as she put it on, piece by piece. Then she began advancing on me, stalking forward like a jungle cat staring down its dinner. I loved it when she did that. I backed up until my back hit a wall. She kept coming, holding my gaze, until she stood over me. Placing a hand on either side of my shoulders, she asked, "Well now ... is my little pet in a mood today?"

My jaw quivered. "Y-Yes," I said.

"Yes? Yes, what?" she asked.

"Yes, mistress."

"Good girl," she answered. I felt my pussy gush - no matter how many times she called me that, it was the same every time. "However, I'm afraid I didn't get you any sexy lingerie for our anniversary - "

"Oh, that's ok, you didn't - "

" - so you'll have to wear what I got you ... nothing."

With that, Sarah put one hand around my throat and squeezed, holding me in place, while the other began to quickly and efficiently strip me. By the time she was done I was a quivering, dripping mess.

"Now, now, Jessica - you don't want to stain the dinner chairs," Sarah said.

She pushed one finger between my pussy lips and scooped up the juices she could, then stared me in the eyes and she brought the finger to her lips and slowly inserted it between her plump, bee-stung lips.

"Ugh, mistress - " I began. I knew she could hear the need in my voice.

"No, slut," she cut me off. "You made a dinner - let's go eat."

I opened my mouth to protest but the glint in her eye let me think better of it.

"Yes, mistress," I said.

We made our way back downstairs to the kitchen. I served the two of us our meal of spaghetti and meatballs and salad, and we took it into the dining room. We ate in silence, her in the new skimpy lingerie and me totally naked, just admiring each other's bodies and enjoying our love for each other.

After dinner Sarah stood up, silently took my hand, and led me down the hall to our bedroom. She pointed at a pillow she had set on the edge of the bed and gently but firmly pushed me to my knees on it. Then she positioned herself in front of me and lay back.

She didn't have to tell me twice.

I dove in. My wife was a gorgeous woman, and worshiping her never got old. I liked to think I had gotten pretty good at it by this point. After being together for five years and married for three, I was well versed.

It didn't take long to get Sarah moaning appreciatively. She spread her legs wide for me and I took advantage of the hole in the crotchless panties I had bought for her by pushing my fingers into her as my tongue worked her clit.

"Mmm, deeper!" she ordered me.

I had been working the entrance, but on her command I pushed my fingers further into her. Her wet pussy clasped them, pulling them into her body. She gasped. Her back arched. She was on the edge, I knew it. My tongue raced up and down her clit.

"Ugh, fuck, deeper! Give it to me!" she yelled again. Sarah's thighs gripped my head and her hands clenched the sheets. "Come on!"

I pushed as deep as my fingers would reach, curling them up and down, exploring her body. She gasped in pleasure as she bucked her hips. I knew my wife well - she was right on the edge, about to cum like a screaming banshee. I kept pushing, eager to send her over the edge.

"Deeper!" she yelled again after another minute or two went by.

She was still on the edge, back arched, dripping wet, but couldn't seem to get over the final hurdle. My tongue was still working diligently but was feeling very tired. My fingers had long since gone as deep as they could go, and I was out of tricks to pull.

After another minute of fruitless endeavors, we called it off.

"I'm sorry, baby - I'm not sure what's wrong," she said as she pulled me up onto the bed.

"No, no. It's definitely not *you* who needs to be apologizing," I responded glumly.

We kept apologizing to each other as she stripped off the anniversary present lingerie. We promised each other that it was fine, it didn't mean anything, and we'd try again tomorrow. Then, well, that was the end of that. We did our nighttime routines, got in bed, and cuddled - she was the big spoon - until we fell asleep.

* * * * *

Dinner the next day was much more upbeat. We had several friends over for dinner, including our favorite hairdresser, Anya. She had done both Sarah's and my hair for the wedding and we still visited for regular redyes. She had brought over her latest girlfriend, a cute Japanese woman named Mio. We also had over a couple Sarah knew from the gym, and a single gal at my work named Martina.

We had dinner on our balcony to enjoy the summer breeze. We had strung lights overhead, and after dinner, we turned them down a little as the wine flowed.

I went to the bathroom and came back to find conversation had steered to the gym again. Emily and Jada both worked at the gym that Sarah went to, and were nearly as gorgeous as she was.

"That guy was back again today!" Sarah was saying.

"No way, it can't have been him," said Jada, shaking her head.

"Yeah, this dude was fit - the dude yesterday was like 350! No one can do that in a month, much less a day!"

But Sarah was insistent. "I'm telling you, the face, the eyes, it was the same. I can't explain it but I know it was him."

"What's this about?" Anya asked.

"Some lecherous dude came by the gym yesterday. Seemed to just catch sight of all the sexy women through the window or something, I guess," Jada explained.

"He came in and was just staring and typing on his laptop. It was weird," said Sarah.

Emily chimed in, saying "Look, we told that dude to get lost, and there's no way this dude today was the same guy. Today's guy was ... hot!"

We all traded looks for a moment, confused.

"Gals - I'm bi! I like guys too!" laughed Emily.

We all busted up laughing. Most of us hadn't considered a man as a sexual being in our lives, and sometimes forgot they could be lusted after too.

"Look, the guy today was definitely different. He just came in to give us a free software update or something - he just plugged his computer into our system for a couple minutes and that was it. Maybe he checked out the girls a little while he was working, but then he left. It's all good," said Emily.

"I don't know, I think it was the same guy," Sarah said again. "I didn't like it."

"How could it possibly be the same guy?" Jada asked.

"Yeah, if what they're saying is right - this guy must have, like, hacked his body, or something. He lost like two hundred pounds in a day?" asked Martina.

"Like he just deleted it with a keystroke on his computer. That's obviously not possible!" said Jada.

"Girls, I don't know. I - I just ... the way he looked at me was the same. It wasn't even normal male creeper stuff," explained Sarah. "It was more than that. It was like a wolf choosing which lamb to have for dinner. Like he'd decided I was his next victim. It weirded me out, and it was exactly the same feeling and face of the day before!"

We were all silent for a moment, thinking over what she'd said. Then the conversation drifted elsewhere.

* * * * *

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked Sarah a few mornings later over breakfast.

She was wolfing down her eggs. I didn't need to be a scientist to know she was uncomfortable and trying to rush through the conversation.

"I should get going, babe," she said, shaking her head. "Can we talk tonight?"

I sighed. "That's what you said yesterday, Sarah. And then last night you said we could talk at breakfast."

Last night had been a demoralizing struggle. I had worked for close to an hour trying to get her off, but she never came. She'd been on the edge time and again, screaming, her back arching in anticipation of that moment of ecstasy. Her large, soft breasts were clenched in my hands as I pushed my tongue into her clit and searched her folds for juice.

"Deeper, deeper!" she'd cried out again and again until her throat was hoarse.

I had tried several of her favorite toys. But no matter how high I cranked the power or where I made her tingle, it was all in vain.

It had been the same story every night this week.

Suddenly, I couldn't make my wife cum. It made me feel like a failure, like I was inadequate. And the icing on top was that because of our clearly defined hierarchy (she was my dom, I was her sub), she didn't even try to make me cum until she had.

Sarah saw the emotions playing over my face. She tucked a lock of her electric blue hair behind her cupped my face in her hands, drawing me in.

"Listen, baby - it's fine, really. You're great, I still love you, I still think you're sexy, there's no one else. I swear. I just gotta run."

She started making her way toward the door where her bag was waiting.

"Ok. We can wait - but you're not getting out of this forever!" Then I caught sight of her tight ass - shown off in painted-on yoga pants. "Ah, um, are you going like that?" I asked, surprised. "Seems a little much for work, no?"

"What? Oh, no, silly!"

She stripped off the old Tshirt she liked to sleep in and reached in her bag, pulling out a white button down. I watched as she started doing the buttons, got to her neck, then stopped and changed her mind. She quickly undid the top several buttons.

"Wait - you're not wearing a bra, either?" I asked.

She fixed me with a stern look.

"Do you want me to be happy?"

"Yes, mistress."

"Tell me you want me to do anything I need to, to be happy?"

"I ... what?" I asked.

She advanced on me with a smirk on her face. She reached one finger out and slowly pushed it between my lips, then slowly pulled me to the ground until I was on my knees in front of her.

"Tell me, slut, that you want me to do anything I need to to be happy."

She pulled her finger, wet, from my mouth and rubbed it over my face, sensuously but degradingly, as I said the words.

"Good girl," she said, immediately setting my pussy ablaze.

Then she turned away, giving me another view of her sculpted ass as she sashayed to the door.

"Well, I want to dress like this for work today. See you tonight!"

And with that, she closed the door and left me alone - on my knees, my pussy throbbing with need, wondering why my bombshell wife was suddenly showing off her body and asking for permission to do "anything."

* * * * *

She pounced on me when she got home that night. She reached past me as I stood at the stove, turned off the burners, and wordlessly pulled me to the bedroom.

"What's gotten into you?" I asked.

Sarah didn't answer. She pushed me onto my back on the bed, climbed on top of me, and grabbed my breasts. Squeezing hard, she leaned over and gave me a deep, open mouthed kiss. I felt the stress of the last few days melt away as we embraced. My wife still loved me! She still found me attractive, and despite my inability to make her cum over the last week, she still wanted to have sex with me!

Her knee pressed against my groin and I could feel Sarah pressing her crotch against my upper thigh as she straddled me. She ground it into me as she pushed her tongue into my mouth.

"Mmmm, you taste wonderful, Sarah. What have you been eating?" I asked.

She chuckled and grinned at me mischievously, but didn't answer.

"Here's the way it's going to work," she told me, putting on her Dom voice. "I'm going to tell you what to do, and you're going to do it - understand me?"

I gazed up at her as she loomed over me. Her face was framed by her bright blue hair while she grabbed my wrists in hers and pinned them above my head.

"Yes, mistress," I nodded.

"Good."

She kissed me deeply again. I could still taste something new and strange on her lips, but I loved it. Our hair mingled and intertwined into a beautiful teal as we both closed our eyes and enjoyed our union. Two bodies and souls became one.

When we had both stripped she lay on her back and told me to get a toy and make her cum, "or else." I selected one we hadn't enjoyed in a while - a long phallic thing we rarely used because it so strongly reminded us of a man's anatomy. The last thing we needed normally was to be reminded of that kind of repulsive thought ... but I felt drawn to it that night.

"Come on and fuck me, already! Forget the lube!" Sarah snapped at me as I got it ready.

I felt hurt by her tone but jumped to where she lay waiting. I got the tip lined up and slowly began to work it into her, watching her face as I did. Sarah bit her lip in anticipation. Her eyes rolled back in her head as I eased in the tip.

"You like that, baby?" I asked.

"Yes, Jessica - fuck me, baby. Fuck me."

I leaned over her and took one of her beautiful breasts in my mouth. She moaned as I fucked her with the dildo, my tongue swirling over her nipple.

"Mmhmmm," she moaned. "Fuck me."

I closed my eyes and lost myself in the moment. My wife's perfect D-cups in my mouth, her pussy on my fingers, her fingernails digging into my back ... this was heaven. This was everything I could want. She wriggled and squirmed appreciatively under my touch.

But then she stopped.

My eyes flickered open in worry. She had opened her own eyes and was looking at me with something like disgust on her face. Sarah grabbed the dildo from my hand and pushed me away.

"Ugh,*fuck*! I'll do it myself!" she scowled.

I seemed to be forgotten as she got up on her knees and began to vigorously ride the dildo. Neither of us had cum for a week and we were getting desperate, I knew, but she was acting like a wild woman. Her blue hair flew back and forth as she thrashed, her body flying up and down the toy's length as she fucked herself.

"No, no! It - I can't! He can't be right!" she cried out.

"Who can't be right?" I asked but she didn't hear me.

Sarah fell forward onto the bed. She planted her knees under her but let her face press into the mattress, so her delectable ass waved in the air. Her hands reached between her legs to reach the toy. She continued pummeling herself, and soon the sounds of wet fucking bounced off our bedroom walls.

"Sarah? Are you ok? Who is 'he'?" I tried asking again.