THE CARE AND FEEDING OF AN AMERICAN PRINCESS

Having always been drawn to the soft, compliant, “feminine” woman as opposed to the combative, career fixated type that delight in challenging you at every turn, I didn’t think Millicent and I had a prayer of making it past our first date. For one thing, she talked a lot, about herself mostly, and to question her on anything was to provoke a barrage of “facts” designed to support her position and silence you forever. She exuded an air of authority that had me seriously considering the pleasure of pouring a pitcher of ice water over her head. No, Millicent was not my ideal woman.

But Lord, was she ever beautiful. Raven ringlets fell in lazy swirls about her shoulders, framing a clear complected face seemingly sculpted by a master craftsman with a passion for perfection. Her well tailored blouse and skirt accentuated her lovely curves, suggesting to even the casual observer that hers was a body which, when naked, would inspire the most jaded swordsman. Still, I was looking forward to the end of the evening and making a mental note to never again let Charlie, my conscientious best friend, fix me up. “She’s bright and beautiful,” Charlie had said. “What else could you want?” To get a word in edgewise, I thought, handing the waiter my charge card. The bill paid, I escorted Millicent outside the restaurant and to my car. Another half hour, which was how long it would take to drive Millicent to her apartment building, and I’d be a free man. We were in my car and I was about to start the engine when she put a hand on my arm. “Wait,” she said softly. I asked her what was wrong.

Millicent was looking down into her lap. She was quiet for a moment, and then, “I’ve been a real bitch tonight. I’ve treated you horribly, and I’m sorry, really sorry for that. I don’t know why I behave so terribly at times.” She brought her head up and looked over at me. I saw that her deep brown eyes were moist. All of a sudden she looked vulnerable. “But I do know I owe you something,” she continued, “for putting up with my bullshit. Take me home, Robert, and do with me what you will. Take me home and fuck the hell out of me.”

Millicent’s dramatic turnaround hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks. For a moment I simply sat there, too stunned to speak. Naturally suspicious, I wondered what she was up to. Was Millicent as devious as she was desirable? “And I’m sure you know how to put a bitch like me in her place,” she was saying.

I stared at the luscious princess next to me. “All right,” I said.

Millicent sat quietly, hands folded in her lap, as we drove to her place. Neither of us spoke. By the time we were in her apartment, the door closed behind us, I had some idea of how I wanted the rest of the evening to go. First, naturally, was a spanking for Millicent.

“Yes, I deserve one,” she said just before stretching out full length across my legs with her head at one end of the sofa and her toes at the other.

The spanking was short but sweet twenty five smart slaps, plus an additional four to arrive at her age, all delivered with relish to her solid, succulent bottom. Millicent remained stretched across my legs after the spanking, her soft sobs and the sight of her bare ass so nicely framed between her pink underpants, which I had pulled down, and her skirt, which I had pulled up, keeping my cock hard and pressing up against her tummy.

“I want you to reach back and open your cheeks,” I said firmly. “Show me your asshole, Millicent.”

“Oh, God.”

“Do it. Now.”

Slowly bringing her hands back to her buttocks, Millicent pulled open the taut half moons of flesh to reveal her pretty, hairless anus. I ordered her to keep her hands in place and then, wetting a finger, began toying with her rear hole. Millicent moaned softly as I ran the finger over her asshole and then gasped when I worked a bit of it inside her. “You like this, I know you do,” I said, inching more of the finger inside her warm, gripping orifice. “It’s embarrassing,” Millicent moaned. “I feel so slutty.”

For several minutes more I played with Millicent’s snug asshole, eventually working my entire finger inside her and pumping it rhythmically as she squirmed on my lap. Her flushed face and her continuous moans of pleasure told me she was close to orgasm, so I quickly removed my finger. “No, no, sweetheart. You’re not going to come until I give the word. Understand me?” In a barely audible voice Millicent said she did.

I told Millicent to get off me and to slowly remove her clothes, everything but her bra and panties. I removed my jacket and tie, tossing both over the back of the sofa, then loosened a few of the buttons on my shirt and sat back down. Millicent’s clothes and shoes were soon in a neat pile on the floor. She looked delicious, and so vulnerable, standing before me in only her underwear. “Now play with yourself,” I said. “Perform for me.”

To my great pleasure, Millicent blushed. She asked if she could lie down and I answered no. “And remember, you’re not to come,” I added. Millicent began by placing both hands at her pussy and rubbing it through her panties. Then a hand went to her breasts and she squeezed them, pinching the nipples through the bra. “Take one tit out,” I said, and then watched as she freed her right breast from the confining bra cup. Her head tilted back and she moaned softly as she started kneading the tit and pinching the nipple, her other hand still stroking her pussy through her panties. “Now put your hand inside your panties,” I ordered. Millicent, obviously getting hotter by the second, obeyed immediately.

From time to time I would stop her and order her to assume a particular position before resuming her masturbation. Especially enjoyable was the one that found her in a submissive crouch, her luscious, panty clad ass pointing at me. With her head resting on her left arm she reached back between her legs with her right hand, slipping it once again inside her panties.

Toward the end of this particular scene, with a whimpering Millicent, on her feet again and masturbating, legs quivering, head lolling on her neck, I shouted at her not to come. She ignored the command, too far gone to obey it, and I jumped up from the sofa and took her hands away from her pussy. “Naughty, naughty,” I said.

Holding her hands behind her back, I marched Millicent into her bedroom. I had her get me a pair of pantyhose from a dresser drawer. I used the pantyhose to tie her hands behind her back. Then I sat her down on the bed, unzipped my fly and pulled out my aching hard on. I started rubbing the bulbous head all over her beautiful face. She kept moving her head this way and that as she tried to catch my cock with her mouth.

“Hungry for it, are you?” I asked.

“Pl please, let me have it,” Millicent whined.

“You like sucking cock, don’t you?” Again I moved my hard cock jus out of reach of her swiping tongue.

“Give it to me. I need it.”

“Open wide, princess. Stick out your tongue.”

Millicent obeyed instantly and I rested my cock on her tongue. Seconds later she was vacuuming it into her mouth, gobbling it with gusto, moaning around it. Every once in a while I would take a handful of her hair and, holding her head still, run my cock in and out of her pretty mouth, fucking her face, as it were. I was close to coming and trying to decide if I wanted to come in Millicent’s mouth when she suddenly pulled away from my cock and said, “Come on my face, please.”

I had but a few seconds to relish the sight of Millicent’s head tilted back and her tongue hanging out of her mouth before I started coming like crazy. Semen spewed from my throbbing cock to splatter her forehead, cheeks and chin. She kept her face in place, her tongue darting here and there to catch what come it could. On rubbery legs I stepped back and watched Millicent’s tongue scoop up one last glob of semen and shovel it into her mouth. “Thank you,” she said. “That was delicious.”

Taking a handkerchief from my pocket, I cleaned Millicent’s face and then removed my clothes. Naked, I stepped to the bed and helped her to her feet. I removed her bra and then, after ordering her to spread her legs, cupped her crotch and started rubbing her pussy through her soaked panties. “Did you wet your underpants?” I asked teasingly. “Feels that way.”

“N no,” Millicent stammered, grinding her pussy against my hand.

“Then you’re wet because you need to be fucked, is that it?”

“Yes. I need to be fucked.”

“Where do you want it? In your pussy?”

“Yes, in my pussy.”

“How about your ass? A nice big cock up your ass would feel good right about now, right?”

“Yes, in my ass,” Millicent whined. “Fuck my ass for me.”

“Maybe I’ll do both holes for you?”

“Yes, both. My pussy and my asshole. Fuck them both for me.”

Millicent was so aroused now she could hardly speak. I quickly skimmed off her wet panties and, with her hands still tied behind her, put her on the bed in a low crouch, with her head down and her lovely ass up. “Spread those legs,” I ordered. Millicent moved quickly to give me total access to her pussy and asshole.

Ordinarily it would have taken me thirty, forty minutes to get a second erection, but so arousing was Millicent’s transformation from aloof, self oriented know it all to submissive plaything that I was already hard again. Climbing onto the bed, I positioned myself between Millicent’s legs and started rubbing the head of my cock up and down her soaking slit. “Pl please don’t tease me,” she begged. “Stick it in me. I need it bad.”

Deliberately, teasingly, I fed Millicent my cock, giving her just an inch at a time until, finally, all seven inches were resting snugly in her pussy. Little grunts and gasps of pleasure burst from her throat as I started fucking her. With my hands on her hips, I pulled her back onto my hard cock, driving it deep inside her clasping love hole. Every so often I would place my hands on my hips and let her do all the work, taking delight in the way she drove her ass back and forth as she fucked herself on my cock.

After a few minutes, I took my cock out of her pussy and aimed it at her puckered asshole. “Is this where you want it?” I asked, and Millicent hissed, “Yesss…” A moment later I was pushing into her upturned bottom, relishing the heat and fit of her rear canal as my cock burrowed deeper and deeper.

When I was fully in her ass, I paused to bask in the glorious sight of Millicent in a servile crouch, her hands tied behind her back, my hard cock balls deep in her lovely behind. Then I started moving in her, slowly at first, and then, at her urging, faster and harder. Fists clenched, face flushed, Millicent came several times before I finally exploded in her ass, and when she felt my semen shooting into her rectum, she cried out and came yet again.

It was after we had showered together and while I was pouring us each a glass of wine in bed that Millicent gave me another surprise. “I wasn’t really sure about you,” she said. “I mean, I didn’t know if you’d bite or not.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, setting the bottle of wine down on her nightstand.

“You don’t really look like a take charge guy.”

“What are you talking about?”

The American princess smiled. “You fell for my act, Robert. Of course, my rip roaring bitch routine followed by my contrite routine usually does work.”

“You mean you set me up?” I was flabbergasted.

“Uh huh.”

I looked hard at Millicent, who was now grinning like a Cheshire cat. “You know you’re going to have to be punished for that, don’t you?”

“Really?” she said.

Mr. R.V., Ohio

JESSICA’S DEVOTION

Let me begin by stressing that my marriage is extremely happy. My wife and I share a union that one dreams about during childhood: full of romance, caring and affection. However, I would say that it differs from most modern marriages in that my wife, Jessica, is completely submissive to me, and that is the way we both like it.

I’m not talking about bondage or spanking. The submission that Jessica practices is simply her complete devotion to me, her unending quest to please as much as she can, in any way possible. If I desired to tie her up and spank her she would certainly agree to it, but I’m just not interested in that.

I first met Jessica several years ago. I am a professor of political science at a university here in California. Jessica was a secretary for the political science department. Younger than me by a decade and inexperienced in the ways of love, she developed a big crush on me and always endeavored to do extra things for me, like all my typing and such. I was amused by this attention but stressed to her that she was too young to be devoting herself to one man without experiencing life for herself. I urged her to finish her education and pursue her dreams.

Jessica graduated from college and eventually became an acclaimed author of many books. We had kept in touch, and we went out to celebrate the publication of her first book. I mentioned to her that she must be very happy her life was very fulfilled. She looked askance. “Not quite,” she said.

I asked her what else she needed. “I need you. I need to take care of you, to worship you. Without you I feel completely empty.”

Not long after that we were married, and the patterns of our everyday life emerged. Jessica is in charge of her career, but other than that, I have authority over every facet of our lives. I tell her how to dress, what to eat, what books to read and what movies to see. She does all the housework, and if I occasionally wash a dish or take out the garbage she pouts.

This total devotion also extends into our sexual lives. I prefer to keep her naked while she is in the house, though she can wear an apron while she is cooking or cleaning. We live in a secluded area, so we have no concern over a neighbor’s interference. This way she is always accessible to my needs. On many occasions she will be in the kitchen preparing dinner when I come up behind her, ready for action. She will bend over the sink or the table and I will drop my pants and sink my erection into her.

I remember one occasion in which Jessica was at the counter peeling potatoes or some other tuber when I took special note of her succulent ass, the way her legs sloped as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the gentle curve of the small of her back. A tent formed in my pants immediately, and I went to her. I laid my hand gently on her shoulder and pressed lightly, and Jessica, knowing what was to come, put down her paring knife and braced her hands on the countertop. She lowered herself, thrusting her ass out toward me. I unleashed my cock from its confines and rubbed it all over hr ass and vagina. She started moaning and begging me to fuck her.

“Yes, Daniel! Give it to me! Fuck me hard!” she cried. I started slowly, inching my cock into her pussy, teasing her with it. Then I worked up the pace until I was violently slamming into her, and it was all she could do to hold on. When I came I felt like I was the king of the jungle and Jessica was my slave girl.

I believe her favorite way of pleasing me is while I’m watching television in my favorite chair. She does a variety of things to get me aroused. She will lie on the rug at my feet, facing me, her legs spread wide, and masturbate for me to watch. Or she will kneel in a crouch and fuck herself with a dildo in her ass or pussy.

Then she will crawl in my lap and free my raging erection. For an hour or two she will simply worship my cock. She sucks, licks and massages it lovingly, taking time to pay attention to my balls. She has taught herself to be a skilled fellatrice, so I usually go out of my skull before I shoot gobs of come all over her face in fact, she sometimes orgasms just from that sensation.

Then we will adjourn to the bedroom, where she will give me a dynamite massage and tongue bathe my entire body, including sucking my toes. She tries her best to induce as many orgasms out of me as she can. I will fuck her with my mouth, her asshole and her pussy. She will then fall asleep from sheer exhaustion, a beam of happiness adorning her face.

Jessica’s behavior may not fall in line with the current feminism of this era. But I submit that our relationship has nothing to do with sexism, it has to do with two individuals fulfilling each other’s needs. Since we so ideally suit each other’s particular wants and desires, we are extremely happy together and will remain that way.

Mr. D.O., California

DISCOVERING THE JOY OF DOMINATING YOUR SPECIAL GUY

My current boyfriend, Louis, and I have added an important new dimension to our lovemaking. I’ve always enjoyed having my way in the bedroom, but until I met Louis, I didn’t realize being dominant could be so pleasurable. Louis is twenty eight, tall and handsome and has a runner’s build.

Louis has always been willing to go out of his way to please me in the bedroom. He’ll go down on me for what seems like hours. One day, while he was out, I uncovered a number of magazines in one of his dresser drawers including several copies of Variations. All the magazines had a story on female domination, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was more than a coincidence.

That night, while gently rubbing his crotch, I asked my boyfriend if there was anything missing from our sex life. Louis turned red and said that it was just fine. I slipped my hand inside his jeans and asked if he’d like to be my love slave for the evening. Before he could even reply, his cock grew rigid in my hand. He finally managed to say, “When do we start?”

That night I used some rope from the garage to tie him up while I took advantage of that very talented tongue of his. I was careful to keep him aroused but not let him shoot his load. After a few hours, he was pleading with me to let him come. I gagged him with my damp panties attached to a length of rope. The evening ended with him tied spread eagled faceup on the bed and me riding his rigid shaft to my third orgasm. When he finally shot his load, it was so strong I thought he would pass out. It was the best sex I’d ever had. Since that evening, we have enhanced our lovemaking still further. I placed several orders to a mail order shop specializing in leather and S & M toys. Now I have the tools to properly restrain and dominate my boyfriend. Once or twice a month, Louis spends anywhere from an evening to an entire weekend as my personal slave. To make sure he’s good and horny, he isn’t allowed to come for at least five days prior to these sessions.

As I write this, we are in the middle of a weekend scene. Last night, when Louis got home from work, I ordered him to strip in the living room and report to me in the bedroom. When he came into the room, I stood before him wearing his favorite black satin teddy. He already had a partial erection. I grabbed his cock and said, “Louis, you know the rules. You’re not to touch your cock, attempt to reach orgasm or speak unless spoken to until Sunday night. Is that clear?” Louis said, “Yes, Mistress!” and looked down respectfully.

“Now bend over and grab your ankles,” I ordered. As my boyfriend complied, I lubed up an anal plug attached to a leather harness and then slipped it into his ass. Louis let out a brief cry of pleasure/pain as the widest part slid into his tight hole. I secured the harness between his firm buns and around his waist. Next I secured his manhood with a leather cock and ball harness. He grunted as I snapped the strap separating his balls in place. Finally I attached a wide slave collar around his neck. “Now my slave is ready to prepare dinner,” I said. My pussy was already tingling as I looked at my submissive stud. While he fixed dinner, I would often tease him to erection.

After Louis and I finished our meal, I made him clean up and do the dishes while still wearing only his leather toys. When he finished, I led him by a leash attached to his ball harness into the bedroom. I lay back on the bed and ordered him to please me with his mouth starting at my feet and slowly working his way up to my now dripping crotch. I used gentle tugs on the leash to guide him.

After an explosive orgasm, how tempting his ass looked with the black leather straps separating his cheeks. I reached between his legs and fondled his balls until he moaned out loud. “I think your ass is getting cold, all exposed like this. Let’s see if we can warm it up!” I laughed, reaching for my riding crop.

Every now and then I’d land a gentle hit on his restrained balls, producing a sharp intake of breath from my boyfriend. After his ass was a nice shade of red, I tied his ball harness to the bed beneath him and ran my long nails down his sensitive back until he was beside himself. I left him that way while I helped myself to another glass of wine and watched one of my favorite x rated videos for a while.

When I returned I let Louis up, only to tie him faceup and spread eagled. I added a leather blindfold to heighten his other senses. Satisfied he was ready, I lowered my sopping pussy down onto his face. His tongue worked its way deep inside me, and I could feel his nose pressing into my ass. I had a wonderful climax almost immediately. As I recovered, I playfully teased his harnessed cock and balls and pulled at his nipples. Muffled cries of pleasure and pain escaped from between my legs as I continued to torment him. Finally, after my third orgasm that evening, I lifted myself off his now drenched face.

While he lay helpless, I selected a pair of nipple clamps and applied them to his unsuspecting nipples. He cried out and pleaded with me to remove them. I replied, “You know the rules! I guess I’ll have to gag you!” I removed the blindfold and placed foam earplugs in his ears. Then I tightly laced a black leather hood in place and added a snap on leather gag and blindfold. I stood back to admire his body, all stretched out, muscles straining against his bonds, cock sticking straight up, balls shiny in their leather prison, slave collar around his neck and black leather hood over his head. He was unable to hear, see or speak he was all mine!

I needed his cock inside me, so I climbed back onto the bed and ever so slowly rubbed my fur covered mound over the head of his straining erection. He moaned into the gag as I slowly lowered my pussy onto his manhood. Slowly I worked myself up and down, getting lost in the pleasure. I would alternate between playing with his nipple clamps, reaching behind to play with his balls and pressing on the butt plug. I picked up the pace, and as I shuddered through my own orgasm, I could feel him arch up off the bed. I shouted, “You have permission to come!” And boy, did he!

Louis shot into me for what seemed like an eternity. I finally removed the nipple clamps, hood, and earplugs. I took note of the gin on his face as I slid off his cock. “You’re not finished yet,” I reminded him. “You had best do a good job with that tongue of yours!” I slid up onto his face, and he gently tongued his large load out of my now tender pussy. After my fifth orgasm of the night, I removed his bonds and reminded him we would resume in the morning. We both slept soundly.

As I write this, Louis is under the table, his cock and balls wrapped in an Ace bandage, his hands bound behind his back, paying respect to my pussy. He doesn’t know it yet, but I plan to fuck his ass with my strap on dildo and perhaps try a little hot wax on his sensitive parts while he’s tied to the bed. Then I might have him give me one of his outstanding backrubs before fixing me lunch. I’m looking forward to the rest of this weekend!

It may be hard for some couples to understand, but we both enjoy these scenes very much. We are closer than we’ve ever been, and our life outside the bedroom is quite normal, with Louis being the dominant figure in our relationship. I think he needs to give up control and even be punished now and then, to help balance out his aggressive lifestyle.

For me, there’s nothing more erotic than having total control over him on special occasions. It’s great for my ego. For those of you who might be looking for something to spice up your sex life, try a little domination!

Ms. M.L., Wisconsin

A PIE IN THE SKY KIND OF SLAPSTICK LOVE

From time to time I am delighted to read in your excellent publication letters from people whom you identify or who identify themselves as “slapstick fetishists.” I am happy to know that there are others out there particularly women who go in for the same kind of messy, gooey silliness I do. How do you tell a woman you’ve just met on a dance floor that what you’d like is for her to lose her panties, trip over them, and dive headfirst into the dessert tray? I suspect that women react better to men who would like to tie them up at least that is a fetish within most people’s understanding. I’d love to hear how others with my fetish have raised the issue.

For me, on this particular occasion, it was easy enough to reveal my love of slapstick because of the way Allison introduced the subject of fantasies our last night at the convention. Allison is one of the most striking women I’ve ever laid eyes on. From the gentle, sexy flopping of her sweater when she danced, I imagined full, tanned breasts with large, dusky nipples, a thin waist that flared out into robust hips, and gorgeous legs. “So tell me, Peters,” she said in that forthright manner of hers, “what’s your wildest fantasy? What’s your pie in the sky sex dream, huh?”

A waiter came by and I ordered two very stiff drinks. We huddled deeper into the corner of the booth. Allison rested her hand on my arm. “In my dreams,” she whispered, “I have been tied up, whipped, forced to suck men’s cocks, and fucked anally. I’ve had to satisfy an entire bar full of men. I’ve flashed my tits on national television. I’ve grown a penis and fucked another woman. I even fucked a man who’d grown a cunt.” She kissed me quickly on the cheek. “There, now you know most of my wildest fantasies. They’re my private thoughts, not even things I really want to happen. Now tell me your hot fantasy.”

“It would happen right here,” I began quietly. “You’d be dressed as you are but without panties. You’d be in the middle of the room when things would begin to go wrong. The waist of your skirt would give way. Whatever’s holding it up would stop working and you’d feel it start to slide down. You’d remember that you’re nude underneath and catch the skirt with your hands at the last minute. You’d need to make your way gracefully across the room without anyone knowing the minute you move your hands, you’ll end up mooning the whole room.”

I stole a glance at Allison. She was watching me intently. “You try to back out the service door,” I continued, “but you get entangled with a waiter on his way out. He’s carrying a lemon cream pie. You dodge and step around him, but just as you finally get your directions straight, another waiter comes out the swinging door and knocks the pie right into your face.”

Again I looked at Allison. This was always the moment I expected rejection. But she nodded at me with a very disarming smile. “And I would be so startled that I’d lift my hands to clean the pie off my face,” she said, “and my skirt would fall. And my bush and my butt would be seen by everyone!”

I grinned. “And you’d stumble over the skirt through the doors into the kitchen, knocking a waiter down. He was on his way out with a pitcher of ice water, which he promptly pours over you. Your sweater now clings to you like a second skin, but the water has washed the cream out of your eyes. You see where you are. You scream, slap your hands over your pubic hair and back up, but you back right into a waiter pushing a dessert cart into the room. You sit squarely on a squishy cheesecake. As you fall back, your legs fly up, and this grinds your ass into the sticky cake. The waiter is so surprised that he lets go of the cart. It rolls, with you on it, toward the large creamy multilayered cake on the table.”

“If I was sitting on the cart with my bare legs up,” Allison whispered, “I’d be flashing all sorts of cunt as I rolled toward the thing. Would you fuck me then, or would there be more?”

I realized that I was perspiring like crazy. Allison’s face had a nice healthy glow to it, too. “I don’t think I can take much more of this,” I said truthfully. I was dangerously close to coming in my pants.

“Me either,” she said. “I’ve never heard anything like this. It’s absolutely the craziest. I’m afraid I’m going to leave a stain on the seat when I stand up.”

We left quickly. There was time to buy a condom in the rest room and to hurry up to her room. There was no time to buy any of the gooey delights that were on my mind. Of course, there was a gooey delight of another kind to enjoy, Allison’s pussy. I dove between her splayed knees and plastered my face to her sopping sex, my tongue a fleshy shovel as it scooped up her flowing nectar. Allison, squealing and squirming, came almost immediately and then, in a voice choked with lust, demanded that I fuck her, hard. “Get it in me,” she growled. “Now!”

Sex with Allison was urgent and loud. As I plowed into her, building us both to climax, she retold my fantasy to me in short, gasping phrases until I finally exploded in her.

We spent the night together and spent the morning making plans for a gooey, frosting covered reunion later in the year. I’m not really sure how that evening in the convention happened, but I was happy to have met at least one woman who appreciates the kind of slapstick fun that so arouses me.

Mr. M.P., Tennessee

TIC TAC TOE TICKLER STRIKES AGAIN!

Longtime readers may recall a letter of a few years back in which I recounted the evening I learned that two good friends shared my enthusiasm for erotic tickling. In fact, the very lovely and talented Marie “invented” what I believe to be a brand new form of tickle torment the Tic Tac Toe Tickle! It is with great pleasure that I announce that Marie’s been at it again.

It was at a party at Marie’s beach house, and there’d been a lot of drinking and smoking going on. On arrival, I was surprised to see an old girlfriend. Carol and I had broken up a couple of months earlier, and she was there with a mutual friend named Mike. Suffice it to say that Carol had had one too many. She argued loudly with Mike, who left, and she wound up sitting on my lap. She was an absolute knockout in her tight jeans and white halter top. On her dainty feet, always a point of interest for a tickling enthusiast, was a pair of strappy, high heeled sandals. Sparkling red nail polish highlighted her pretty toes.

Good as she looked, I was still smarting from our recent breakup and did my best to ignore her, though I was sporting a raging hard on. Drink in hand, Carol wandered over to a group of guests engaged in a game of Trivial Pursuit and proceeded to make a nuisance of herself by calling out answers. When Marie politely asked her to stop, Carol made a series of nasty remarks about the intelligence of the group in general and Marie in particular.

To give a little perspective, Marie is a tall, beautiful blonde, slim but tautly muscled, a former college swimmer. Carol is petite, but full of fire. Marie asked if Carol was interested in a little one on one match of wits. My former girlfriend, assuming they’d play Trivial Pursuit, readily agreed.

“Not Trivial Pursuit, though,” Marie said slyly. “Something a little simpler, say…tic tac toe!” I shot an astonished look at Marie’s husband, who was already leaving the room with a grin. In minutes he returned with a set of padded wrist and ankle cuffs. While the rest of the room wondered what was up, I got comfortable to enjoy what was bound to be quite a game. I’d seen Marie in action and knew that poor Carol was really in for it.

The dark haired beauty tried to exit (after recovering from her shock at seeing the cuffs) but Marie easily intercepted her. After an amazingly brief struggle, Carol found herself shackled hand and foot with Marie seated on the small of her back.

Carol raged with her famous temper. “Get off me, you bitch!” But her rage soon subsided into pleading, and then confusion. “I’m sorry, really I am…oh please, let me go, I won’t…huh? What the…my shoe…what are you doing?” Needless to say, Marie ignored Carol except for a cryptic “You’ll see” and busied herself with the sandals. Finally, after a dramatic pause, Marie slowly slipped Carol’s shoes off, exposing the soles of her feet. My eyes feasted on the lovely girl’s peds. Ten perfect toes wiggled uncomfortably as if they knew what was to come.

“You do know how to play tic tac toe, don’t you?” teased Marie. “First we need a pen.” With a flourish, Marie produced a ballpoint. “Now we need some paper.” Marie’s husband shrugged. “Darn,” cried Marie. “Without paper, you’ll never get to show everyone how much smarter you are. Unless…if we could just find something else to write on, something smooth and white…”

Marie chewed on the pen thoughtfully, then focused on Carol’s flawless, cream colored soles in a spectacular double take. “Why, it just might work,” she announced as she drew Carol’s legs back, forcing them to bend at the knee and placing my former tootsie’s tootsies in a very vulnerable position. Marie drew the ballpoint in a torturously slow fashion across Carol’s left arch, leaving a long, black line. To say Carol responded would be an understatement.

“I don’t have any paper. I don’t want to play. I just…I just…s s stop…stop that…ooh, don’t…that tickles.”

“I’m awfully sorry, dear, but I don’t see any alternative.” Marie’s voice was full of fake sympathy. “Besides, maybe using your feet as the board will affect your concentration and give poor, dumb me a chance.”

Now Marie’s intent was clear and Carol really panicked. I knew from experience that her feet were extremely ticklish and that she absolutely couldn’t stand it. The prospect of having another woman whom she had just insulted go to work on those sensitive soles was more than Carol could take. Her predicament was delicious and there was nothing she could do or say to get out of it.

“Oh no, you can’t…I mean you wouldn’t…I I mean, it’s just that…my feet are very sensitive, very ticklish…”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Marie cut her off. “You’re a grown woman. How bad can it be? Now I’ll ‘X’ the center square.” She drew a black X on the wrinkled sole, drawing a helpless giggle from her captive. “Now, where do you want your O?”

Carol gasped for air as Marie tapped the pen on her heel impatiently. “Nowhere…none…just stop.”

“Okay, you pass. Interesting strategy! Now I’ll ‘X’ the corner.” Marie elicited fresh squeals of laughter with her penmanship. “Pass again?”

“This isn’t fair!” Carol whined. “You expect me to concentrate while you tickle my feet and then you skip my turn and now ”

“Time’s up!” exclaimed Marie happily. “You pass again and I will ‘X’ this corner and that makes three in a row!” Marie punctuated this last remark by drawing a dark line through the board with devastating effect on Carol’s “tickle receptors.” “Well, let’s start a new game. Didn’t I mention that? Oh, my mistake! You see, dear, you’re not leaving here until you win a game.”

“Enough! Oh my stars, enough! Stop, stop, I can’t stand it! Please, no more! Oh, it tickles! Stop, I beg you. Please don’t tickle me anymore.”

Marie looked Carol coldly in the eye. “Admit you love it,” she demanded. “Tell everyone here you love being tickled.” She punctuated this last remark by dragging her fingernails down one helpless sole.

“Oh, God, no…yes…anything, just stop. I love it! I love it when you tickle me!”

“All right, then, how about the ribs? Kootchy kootchy koo.” Marie appeared ready to start all over when a couple of the guests laughingly drew her off and said Carol had had enough. Once the cuffs came off, Carol scurried out the door. Marie laughed heartily as she pointed at the trail of tic tac toe footprints. In her haste, Carol had left her shoes behind. Funny thing, she never did come back for them.

Mr. M.S., South Dakota

HE GETS DOWN TO BUSINESS, HAVING UNEXPECTEDLY GREAT SEX WITH ANOTHER GUY

The best sex of my life has always been with the most unlikely candidates. I know that most guys dream about the blonde bombshell with big tits I do, too but the few times I’ve bedded really hot babes, model types, the sex has only been so so. It’s when I’m banging someone I wouldn’t have thought would be my type that I’ve had the most incredible experiences. And that was exactly how it was with Sean, who introduced me to the joys of man on man sex. We met at the start of a resort based three day business seminar, one where everyone was overly serious and treating it like a life or death trial rather than a chance to escape on our companies’ dimes.

Sean was a kindred spirit, and we snuck out as much as we could for beers, knowing we were smart enough to pick up everything we needed to know from the handouts. Our companies had set us each up in deluxe suites, so we decided to use one to hang out in and somewhat trashed the place, leaving empty pizza boxes and clothes all over and sleep in the other.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some chicks,” he said when we first met. I nodded, not saying a word, because I’d never before done that at a seminar. The sad truth is that our field is a mostly male dominated one, and there usually weren’t too many attractive, eligible women around at business functions, which we realized by the end of the first day.

“Hey, man, maybe next time,” he said forlornly, slapping his hand against my shoulder as we sat in the guy filled hotel bar. I felt a tingle run through my body. It was a familiar feeling, but one I usually felt when a woman touched me. I knew what that meant: I wanted Sean, and not as a friend, but as a lover. He paused and looked deep into my eyes, and at that moment I knew he felt that way, too. We returned to my room, and soon his hands were roaming along my furry chest, tweaking my nipples as he kissed me and pinned me against the wall. Sean’s aggressiveness was hot, and suddenly it didn’t matter that I’d always thought of myself as straight. His hands not to mention his hard cock pulsing beneath his jeans felt damn good.

The more he touched me, the more random memories of hot guys I’d met and been intrigued by floated through my mind. Maybe I was more bisexual than I’d thought. Either way, when Sean took my hand and placed it on his crotch, I did what came naturally: stroked the hard lump that was hidden in his pants. It was flattering to know that he wanted me.

As I touched Sean, he leaned forward and his mouth met mine, his tongue dipping between my lips. That first kiss was slow and sensual, like his tongue was slowly getting to know my body starting with my mouth.

“I want you,” Sean murmured as he pulled away, slipping off his jacket, and then stripping out of his shirt. His chest was muscular, not too hairy, and the sight of it aroused me. I leaned down and flicked at one of his nipples with my tongue, the way I’d do to a girl. He was just as responsive as the women I’d suckled, if not more.

Hearing his breathy moans made my dick harder than it already was, and I was more curious than ever to see his cock up close. Sure, I’d seen other guys naked in locker rooms, but that’s different. This situation was as erotic as it could get, and I moved to unbutton his jeans. “Yes,” Sean hissed as I freed his cock. It was wide and meaty, with a fat, swollen head different from mine. I often ask women for permission before I go down on them, but with Sean I didn’t ask. I just sank to my knees to give my first blowjob. I took to Sean’s cock like I’d been sucking dick my whole life. I was easily able to deep throat his shaft. He was at least eight inches long, but I loved how the head felt slipping down my throat. My dick jerked in response as he stroked my hair and directed the motion of my head.

“Yeah, lick my balls,” he encouraged, when I took a brief break from sucking his cock. I slobbered all over his sac, enjoying the taste of his flesh, before Sean got impatient and guided my mouth back to his dick. “That’s a good cocksucker,” he said, and I looked up to see him smiling at me, and that almost made me spurt in my pants. His face was so sexy, and I kept sucking his cock, wanting to feel his hot come flood my mouth, but Sean stopped me before that happened.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly afraid I’d given the world’s worst blowjob.

“Nothing, I just want to taste you now,” he said. Well, I couldn’t argue with that! We moved over to the bed and got naked. I marveled at his tight ass and trim physique. He’d told me he worked out, but I couldn’t really tell what he looked like before with his clothes on. With his good looks and impressive cock, Sean was a very appealing lover, one I’d imagined no man or woman could resist. But it was his talented handjob/blowjob combination that had me screaming so loud that he had to tell me to be quiet, lest we draw the attention of the hotel staff. I pressed a pillow to my face to muffle my cries of pleasure as he swallowed my dick again and again.

“I’m gonna come!” I announced after a few minutes, sure I couldn’t take much more stimulation.

“Not yet,” he said, and eased off my cock. Upon seeing my questioning look, he said, “I want to fuck you. I want to slide my cock into your ass and then jerk you off.”

“I’ve never done that before,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. There was something so charming and sexy about Sean that I wasn’t as embarrassed as I might have been to tell a woman that I’d never tried a certain sex act before.

“I figured as much not because you weren’t amazing with those lips of yours, but you seem a little nervous. It’s okay, I’ll go slow. I’ve broken in guys before. And if you’re wondering, I’m bi. Sometimes a hot chick does it for me, but other times, it’s a guy like you.” I waited a moment, taking in all of the information, and then I nodded because I wanted nothing more than to feel his cock plundering my asshole.

“I have lube,” he said brightly, then grabbed me and pulled me toward him for another mouth melting kiss. I was nervous, but I trusted him. I didn’t have any experience with anal sex, but I figured I’d put myself in Sean’s capable hands.

I had nothing to worry about Sean was the perfect guide. He had us take a shower together, and after he turned off the water, I stood in the tub as he tongued my asshole until I practically sobbed with joy. He stroked my cock as his tongue thrust between my cheeks over and over. It felt completely unreal.

After I’d come once, I washed off and then we made out on the bed. Sean gently probed my asshole with his lubed up fingers and granted me the privilege of doing the same to him. Sinking my index finger into his tight but willing anus was a thrill like no other. I’d never even done that with a girl. He was so receptive that I didn’t want to stop, but after a little while he guided me onto my back, lifted my legs, and then slipped his dick between my cheeks and pressed the head of it against my back hole.

I hadn’t thought we could do it in the missionary position, but he gradually eased inside me, kissing me and stroking me, and talking the whole time as I raised my hips up off the bed, wanting more of everything. When Sean’s cock was inside me, I only wanted more. I spread my legs wider and urged Sean to go deeper. “You want me to fuck you hard, Chip. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes, please. Fuck me as hard as you can,” I said, and meant it. By then I had no doubt that it would feel incredible, and I was right.

Sean pushed inside me, reaching beneath me to cup my asscheeks and bury himself even deeper. His body pressed down against mine, and I arched upward as best I could. Unlike how I’d pictured it, with him doing me doggy style, in this position, my cock was trapped between us and getting teased by the friction of our bodies rubbing together. It felt amazing to open myself up to Sean, and he knew exactly how to ease in and out of my backdoor to make me moan. At one point, he slid out, sucked my cock for about a minute, and then plunged his own back into my ass. I was biting my lip, holding on to him as he pounded my asshole.

I could tell by the look on Sean’s face that he was close. He stroked in and out of me a few more times before groaning and then gushing into my ass, keeping himself nestled inside me until his cock was soft again. Then he jerked me off with his hand, and we watched my come arc into the air and land on my stomach when I finally reached my peak.

We stayed in the room all night, ordering room service and exploring each other’s body. I’m pretty sure everyone else at the seminar knew what we were up to, but we didn’t care.

The seminar is a yearly training session, and I’m hoping he’ll be there next time, but in the meantime, I plan to find more guys to fuck, and maybe even a girl who’d be up for a two guy threesome!

Mr. Chip F., Via E Mail

EROTIC FOOT MASSAGE DRAWS SHY GUY OUT OF HIS SHEL

After I moved to New York City, I started to discover my kinky side. Before that, my fantasies and sex life hadn’t been totally vanilla, but I didn’t really know all the possibilities that existed until I moved to a city that seemed to have everything.

Through ads in local magazines and newspapers, and with some judicious Internet surfing, I discovered a wealth of fetish parties. At first I merely observed the goings on, partly because I’m a voyeur, but mostly because I’m shy. I’d get a soda and watch as other people lived out their pervy fantasies by getting spanked, tickled and tied up. I never dreamed that someday I’d summon up the guts to be the center of attention myself.

After about a year of attending these events, I decided to go to a foot fetish party. I don’t particularly have a thing for feet, or at least, I didn’t think I did, but I was willing to try anything.

As soon as I arrived at the party, I saw a beautiful, voluptuous woman, whose name I later found out was Liz. She had pale skin and glossy lips, and she was giving a foot massage to a woman. Liz looked like she was in heaven while she doted on the lady’s feet, occasionally resting her soles against her plush breasts. Liz took her time as she worked, and I noticed that there was a small line forming. Apparently word had gotten around, and lots of people were eager to be pampered by this sexy, blue haired lady. I joined them, eager to meet this lovely woman who was clad in black and blue latex.

The sounds coming from the woman being rubbed were practically orgasmic. Liz must have been doing a great job! The sight amused me because elsewhere at the party people were naked and having all sorts of kinky fun, but this massage looked so innocent. However, the more I watched them interact, the more curious and turned on I became.

When it was my turn, I introduced myself to Liz and asked, “How much does it cost?”

“It’s free,” she said, her voice surprisingly soft. I’d expected a deep, husky tone from a woman as sexy as her. “I just like feet and being of service.” Her smile was, dare I say it, almost shy.

I sat down in front of Liz, took off my shoes and socks and offered her my feet. “I have to confess that I’ve never even had a back massage, let alone a foot massage,” I said.

“Well, then, you’re in for a treat,” she said. “Just tell me if it hurts or rather, tell me if it hurts and you don’t like it.”

Liz dug her fingers deep into my skin, roughly massaging my foot and instantly making my cock hard. Sometimes she looked down at my wriggling toes, other times she shut her eyes and pressed my foot against her breasts, seemingly lost in rapture. As she moved from one foot to the other, tingles of pleasure traveled from my toes right up to my swelling prick. I was moaning quietly, trying not to let on how turned on she was making me.

Despite my efforts, Liz was able to sense how excited I was, and the feeling must have been mutual, because at one point she pulled her breasts free from her latex top and let my feet rest against both of her generous tits. Her skin was soft and silky, and I flexed my toes, massaging her flesh. Her nipples were hard, and she took one of my feet and tapped each nubbin with the sole. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to have my cock resting between her glorious boobs. Would she be into that? I didn’t know, but I let the image marinate in my mind as she played with my feet, using them to stimulate herself. It was almost like I was massaging her at that point.

Soon we were drawing a lot of attention, but I wasn’t fazed. In fact, I liked it. Liz was so sexy, and I fed off of her erotic energy. She told the people who’d lined up behind me that I was her last footrub for the night, which made me think I had a shot with her. And then when my erection seriously started to strain against my jeans, she leaned forward and said, “Let’s go to a more private spot, where I can give you a more intimate massage.”

Liz led me toward a dark corner, and as we walked, I kissed the back of her neck and then whispered in her ear, “Your breasts are so beautiful. I want to slide my cock between them. Can I do that?”

She hissed out a breath and turned toward me slightly. “Yes,” she said, then stripped off her latex skirt and top and sat on a beanbag chair, leaning back so I could straddle her and nestle my cock between her tits. If my foot resting against her breasts had been arousing, having my cock between them almost made me come on the spot, especially when Liz whipped out a vibrator from her purse and began buzzing it against her clit.

“Fuck my tits, Max,” she urged, and I did, holding them tight around my cock as I bucked my hips. Doing that while knowing she was teasing her pussy with the vibe had me ready to shoot in no time.

“Do you want to taste my dick?” I asked her.

“Yes,” she murmured, then opened wide. I let her suck my cock for a few seconds, and then pulled away.

“I want to come on your breasts,” I told her. I started beating off against her tits, watching her flesh undulate with every move of her beautiful body. Liz continued working her wet pussy with the vibe, and her moans of pleasure grew in volume and intensity. Soon Liz was coming, her body trembling. As she rode out the last waves of her orgasm, she dropped the vibe, grabbed both nipples at once and twisted them, while I came with a growl and decorated them with ropes of my hot cream.

“Wow,” she sighed happily, when I was spent. Then she looked at me with a grin. “I think you should find a pretty girl out there who wants to lick this off me.” At first, I froze. Approaching a total stranger with such a request seemed beyond my social skills, but then Liz said, “I’ll give you another footrub if you do it.”

That was inspiration enough, and I wound up finding two hot blondes to do the deed. I didn’t even get their names. I just told them about my situation, and they gleefully volunteered to lick my load off a pretty girl’s breasts. Watching that made me hard all over again.

Liz wound up giving me another footrub back at her place right after she let me eat her pussy and she’s been my party date ever since that special night.

Mr. Max K., New York, New York

JANA’S NEW STRAP ON HELPS HER INTRODUCE A FEMALE FRIEND TO THE JOYS OF SEX TOYS

Libby was not exactly into sex toys. That’s not to say my best friend was a prude, she just seemed to prefer the real thing to a rubber replica. When I bought her a vibrator for her birthday a few years ago, she actually asked me what she was supposed to do with it. So I was surprised when she volunteered to accompany me to my favorite adult toy store to look for new goodies.

I didn’t want to scare her away, so when she asked what I was looking for, I was very vague. “A dildo,” I said, figuring that telling her I really wanted a strap on harness and cock might make her change her mind about the field trip. At the store, I let Libby browse up front by the tamer objects while I ventured to the back. I found the harness I wanted right away. It was a sturdy neoprene piece that was waterproof and machine washable. I could do almost anything with it, and it would still look as good as new after a quick wash. It was love at first sight.

Next, I had to find a dildo, and I saw Libby eyeing one that looked particularly harness friendly. The bubblegum pink toy was six inches long and curvy, and it had a flared base that would fit perfectly in my harness. I asked her what she thought of it, and she jumped when she heard my voice, not realizing I was standing right behind her.

“Well, what do you think?” I asked, pointing to the dildo she’d been looking at.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I think it’s pretty, but I don’t know what I’d do with it.”

I know what I’d do with it, I thought. But what I said was, “You’re right, it is pretty. I think I’ll get it.”

I snatched up the toy and brought it to the register, where the cashier was holding my harness. My friend continued browsing while I paid, and when we left she wanted to know why I had such a big bag when all I’d bought was the one dildo. As we drove back to my apartment, I told her about the harness. I expected her to be shocked, maybe appalled, but instead she was curious. “I want to see it,” she said. “Have you ever used one before?”

I couldn’t believe that Libby was so interested! We talked about the strap on all the way home, and I was getting turned on as I explained how it was used. The more questions she asked, the more I wanted to offer her a demonstration, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was convinced she’d freak out!

That night Libby and I had dinner together and shared a bottle two, actually of wine. All through dinner my friend kept returning to the subject of the strap on, and when we finished eating, she asked if I could show her my new toys. “You’ll model it for me, too, right?” she asked when I stood to get the shopping bag, and I agreed.

I started to pull the harness on over my tights, but Libby stopped me. “That’s not how you’d really wear it,” she said, and I stepped out of the harness to start over.

This time I pulled my tights down first, my thong going with them, and then stepped into the harness once more and pulled it up under my short skirt. Before Libby could ask, I took the skirt off, leaving me in only my t shirt and strap on. Then I reached back into the bag, pulled out the pink dildo and locked it into the front of the harness with the removable O ring. When I glanced up, Libby was staring at me with a strange look on her face. I had no idea what she was thinking, and when I asked, she didn’t respond right away. The only thing she said was, “Wow.” And then she was touching me or should I say my dildo. She stroked it as though it were real, her fist moving up and down the silicone shaft and every so often sliding over the head. I couldn’t actually feel what she was doing, but it aroused me all the same, and I felt my juices trickling down my thighs and stopping only when they came in contact with the straps of my harness.

Soon I wasn’t the only one who was turned on, and when Libby got on her knees and started sucking my dildo, I knew I was going to fuck her before the night was over. Neither of us said a thing as Libby fellated me, and I quickly got lost in the game we were playing. Without thinking about it, I started to fuck her face, my hips thrusting back and forth as though I could actually feel the suction on the rubber cock. Each time my tingling pussy hit the hard back of the toy through the harness, I felt myself shiver with arousal. I’d never wanted to fuck another girl as much as I did right then.

I pushed Libby away from my cock and then got down on the floor with her. I stripped her clothes off and started kissing her all over. I nibbled her neck, suckled her tits, planted kisses on her stomach. And then I straddled her hips and aimed my rubber penis at her wet pussy. I’d never fucked a strap on virgin before, but I couldn’t wait to push my cock into Libby’s pussy. The pink silicone head spread her lips and eased into her slit, the rest of the shaft following slowly after it. Libby was so wet that I didn’t have to push hard to get all the way inside her. A few slow, short thrusts and I was buried right to the O ring. I paused there, still not quite believing that I was actually fucking my best friend. I couldn’t work out what was happening all I knew was that I wanted it to continue.

Libby started to squirm under me, moaning and gasping and begging me to please fuck her and I did. I started slowly, alternating between shallow thrusts and swirling my hips in figure eights. When I sensed her getting more comfortable, I started to pick up the pace. As things started to get more intense, I almost felt as if I really was fucking her. I could practically feel the wet walls of her pussy squeezing my cock, and I was sure that the more excited I became, the more my dick throbbed. It was impossible I couldn’t feel a thing and there was no way that silicone shaft could throb but Libby and I were fucking so hard that the sensations felt real.

I was really getting into the scene we’d created, and for a brief moment I worried that Libby wasn’t enjoying it as much as I was. Then she wrapped her legs around my waist and started pulling me deeper inside her, and I knew she was equally aroused.

As I pounded into her, the base of the dildo pressed against my hardened clit, and it was all I could do not to come before Libby. Reaching between our bodies, I pressed three fingers to Libby’s pussy and started rubbing her clit. I was on the verge of a climax myself, so I frigged her clit frantically so she’d come first. It took no more than a minute before Libby was writhing ecstatically beneath me. As soon as she came her clit throbbing under my fingertips and her pussy, and I’m sure, clenching my rubber cock I rubbed myself against the base of the dildo one last time and came myself.

I continued pounding into Libby’s cunt while I rode the waves of my orgasm, trying to draw out our pleasure for as long as possible. I stopped moving first, sinking onto the floor to lie next to the still writhing Libby. When she finally came back to earth, she thanked me for playing show and tell with her, dressed and said she’d call me the next day about brunch.

True to her word, my phone rang at eleven o’clock the next morning, and I joined Libby for our usual Sunday brunch. She didn’t bring up the previous night’s events, and neither did I. It was as if nothing unusual had happened the night before. We haven’t had any similar encounters since, either. Though Libby did ask me if I’d help her pick out a new vibrator for herself next week. Who knows, maybe this shopping trip will end with another sexy round of show and tell!

Ms. Jana G. Savannah, Georgia

SLOPPY HUSBAND IS SHOWN THE ERROR OF HIS WAYS BY HIS NEAT FREAK WIFE

I used to complain that while my husband, Bill, is sexy, successful, charming and a great cook, his major flaw is that he’s a slob. Even with a housekeeper coming in twice a week, he still managed to make messes that drove me insane. I’d trip over his discarded shoes, or find his boxers in the bathroom or an empty pack of cigarettes on the table. It wasn’t just annoying, it was insulting but the more I nagged him, the more he seemed to do it, claiming that he didn’t want to be a “neat freak.” He told me if I wanted a spotless home, I should take matters into my own hands which is what wound up happening, although not in the way he’d originally planned.

Initially, I backed off and stopped letting his messiness get to me, but what I discovered surprised me: Bill seemed almost disappointed that I wasn’t yelling at him. What was up with that? One night, I snapped at him to pick up the dirty towel he’d left on the floor, and I noticed that his cock got hard. An idea suddenly sparked in my head, a way that perhaps we could both get some satisfaction out of his messy ways, so I stroked his freshly sported hard on through his boxers. “How was your day?” I asked, and while he told me, I massaged his cock and balls. I didn’t say a word about the state of our home, but the whole time my mind was clicking. I stripped Bill, got on top of him and rode his dick, holding his arms down and subtly exerting my newfound dominance. I came twice while I writhed on top of him. My husband looked a little startled, but he was excited to have perhaps unleashed a lioness in the bedroom.

When I came home from work the next day, I found Bill’s briefs lying near the bed and his belt on the floor in the middle of the room. I picked up the offending items and headed to Bill’s home office, which is located in the corner of the living room. He was immersed in chatting with someone online. I stomped on the switch on the surge protector, shutting down his machine, and spun his chair around so that he was facing me.

“What are you doing?” Bill demanded.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” I asked. “Why was your underwear on the floor? Unless you wanted me to stuff it in your mouth while I whip you with this belt.” I slapped the looped up leather against my palm for emphasis. He jumped at the sound, and when he glanced from my face to the belt, it wasn’t fear I saw in his eyes but curiosity and excitement.

“Well, apparently that’s the only way you’re going to learn your lesson. Get up!” I barked. I was suddenly getting into the idea of wielding my power over him my pussy was really wet.

Bill didn’t hesitate a second longer. He stood, and I stripped him naked, making sure to lightly rake my nails against his nude body. I ignored the voice inside me that said I was unprepared for such a role, and I welcomed the voice that owned up to the power Bill wanted me to have over him. When he tried to talk, I put a hand over his mouth. “Be quiet. You’ve had plenty of time to talk, but you obviously haven’t mastered the fine art of listening. You will only speak when I tell you to, and if you disobey, I’ll make you be quiet.” I pushed him down so that he landed face first on the bed with his ass raised high in the air. “You left your belt lying on the floor where I could have easily tripped over it. That was very careless! What do you have to say for yourself?” I snapped the belt in the air, its sound making my pussy ache with desire.

“I’m sorry, Andrea. I promise it won’t happen again.” My husband’s voice sounded contrite, but he’d acted contrite so many times in the past, only to revert to his messy ways immediately. I knew his tricks.

“Well, ‘I’m sorry’ won’t cut it this time,” I said as I delivered the first blow.

I was a little nervous about hitting him. How would I know I was doing it right? I didn’t need to worry apparently, I was a natural because he moaned in that familiar way, letting me know he liked it. I struck him again, watching his skin turn pink before my eyes. What I really wanted to know was whether being punished was making him hard, but I would find out soon enough. I whipped him sternly, and this time he groaned. “Quiet down you can take it,” I said, and then struck him again in the same spot.

When Bill moaned loudly, I grabbed the underwear I’d found on the floor and shoved it in his mouth. The look of ecstasy on his face let me know that he wanted this as much as I did. Then I got treated to the sound of his groans muffled by his briefs, which increased my hunger to whip him even harder. When I was satisfied and my pussy was dripping I placed the belt on the bed next to him. “Now go put this away where it belongs,” I said.

Once Bill had hung the belt in the closet with his others, I granted him the right to remove the briefs from his mouth and watched him place them in the laundry basket. Only then did I push him to the floor so he could kneel between my legs and lick my pussy. I was amped up from whipping him, and I made sure he gave me all the cunnilingus I deserved for my efforts. I came once and ordered him to swallow all my honey, and then I smiled when I looked down and saw how hard his cock was. “Don’t think you’re going to get to come today. Maybe having to forgo an orgasm will make you think about not being so slovenly. Now keep licking!” I pushed him against my sex, and my dutiful husband showed me that he knew exactly how to get me off.

Finally, after orgasm number three, I had Bill draw me a bath and make me dinner. I could get used to being treated like a queen, I thought. For a few weeks after that, things were pretty good. Our sex life was hotter because even though it was vanilla, there was a sense that he knew what I was capable of doing to him.

Not another word was spoken about his messiness until the day I came home to find our bed littered with neckties. Bill had obviously been rushing off to a meeting, tried several on and discarded them before he flew out the door. I scooped up the ties and put them in our bedside drawer, waiting to pounce until we were in bed that night.

“So, notice anything different about this room since you left it?” I asked, trying to sound casual as we lay in bed.

“Um . . . no,” he said, but with a tinge of nervousness in his voice.

“Well, it’s more tidy, for one thing. I moved all those neckties off the bed when I got home,” I told him. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Or did you think I would?” I asked as I took a blue and white checked tie and roped it around his wrists. At first I just wrapped the fabric around him, but then I tied a tight knot, making him gasp.

“Babe, what are you doing?” he asked, but the erection sprouting inside his shorts told me that he knew exactly what I was doing.

I took another tie and placed it over his eyes so he couldn’t see. “When will you learn? We have a beautiful home, and you sully it every time you leave your belongings scattered everywhere.” I pulled his boxers down to reveal a raging hard on. Part of me wanted to suck it, but I didn’t want to reward him for bad behavior.

I ran my fingers along his cock, and then briefly wrapped my hand around it. He moaned, licked his lips and said, “Please.”

“Please? Please give you a handjob? I don’t think so!” I said. “The only thing that cock is good for is fucking me good and hard.” I then got on top of him and sank down in the reverse cowgirl position, gyrating my hips and feeling his hardness slip deep inside me. “And don’t you dare come until I give you permission!” I ordered.

I used Bill for all he was worth, riding him furiously as I told him about the list of chores I’d make for him and how I was going to monitor his work. I told him I’d fired our cleaning woman and that laundry, vacuuming and dusting would be his duties from now on. As I bucked atop his stiff erection, I assured him every infraction would result in severe discipline. The very idea made me come in a rush, leaving him covered with my juices.

Afterward, I slipped into our adjacent bathroom to soak in the tub, occasionally taking peeks at my husband blindfolded and bound on the bed.

That night I did eventually relent and let him jerk himself off. In the last week or so, our home has been very tidy, but I’m sure that won’t last long. Fortunately, I’m more than ready to punish my slob of a husband again as soon as he reverts to his true nature.

Ms. Andrea V., Via E Mail

SLAVE NECKLACE KEEPS THE KINK ALIVE IN THEIR LONG TERM MARRIAGE

I’ve been happily married to the same sexy woman for twenty years. Kelly is five foot seven and has great breasts and long, slim legs. Over the years our sex life has been pretty varied we’ve experimented with bondage, nipple clamps, corsets, pussy shaving and anal sex you could say a little bit of everything.

Several years ago we shopped together to buy Kelly a gold “slave necklace.” It was actually fine jewelry a gold choker in a very tasteful chain design. For the two of us, however, Kelly’s wearing of it symbolized her willingness to be my sexually submissive lover for the evening. To that end, she would indulge me in any kink I might have in mind. We enjoyed the necklace repeatedly she would surprise me by putting it on, thereby signaling that we were about to share a night of kinky erotic play, with me in charge.

But as time passed, Kelly wound up wearing the beautiful necklace on many occasions, and it became simply yet another fashion accessory, not necessarily a signal for us to launch into a night of erotic pleasures. I wasn’t sure if she’d forgotten its original meaning, so one day when she wore the necklace, I took it between my fingers, tugging on it gently as I whispered in her ear, “Do you remember what we used to do when you wore this?”

“Yes,” was her breathy response.

“Let’s revive that tradition,” I said.

Kelly was quick to agree, and after that, I eagerly awaited our next opportunity to play. Last Saturday afternoon, we went to the supermarket together. As we parked our car, Kelly told me to wait a moment before getting out. She then pulled back the collar of her shirt to reveal the necklace. My cock got instantly hard at the sight of it. “I’m offering myself to you as soon as we’re done here.”

I put up my hand to silence her. “No. We’re starting right now,” I said, determined to make sure she knew I was serious.

“We are?” she asked, her eyes wide but her voice clearly betraying her arousal.

“Yes,” I said, placing her hand on my crotch. “Tell me what you’re wearing underneath your clothes. No, wait show me,” I said as I wrapped my fingers around hers to tighten her grip on me and let her feel how hard my cock was before releasing her so she could follow my command.

At first, Kelly looked around the parking lot nervously, as if tons of people were staring into our car. But realizing it was safe, she lifted up her skirt and showed me her panties they were sheer black and I could see her pussy through them. “Good girl,” I said, and she beamed at me. “Now I’m going to show you what I have for you to enjoy later.”

I very quickly pulled down my zipper, showed her my hard cock, and then put it away and closed my pants. The look on her face told me she would’ve sucked me right there, but we knew it would be safer to wait until we were in a more private location.

As we shopped, I’d reach over and occasionally stroke her necklace, making her gasp. It was as if I were touching her pussy that’s how much the prospect of being my slave excited her. I stood behind her in the dairy aisle and pressed my dick against her backside as she surveyed the shelves. “I can’t wait to get you home. You’re going to be all mine to do with as I please. What do you think about that?”

“I’d like that. Thank you, sir,” she said softly. We continued our shopping without talking, but our silence spoke volumes.

When we got home, I knew Kelly was eager for me to fuck her, but I wanted to draw out her anticipation. First I ordered her to put away the groceries, and then I told her to start making dinner. I started to walk away, then turned back. I unzipped her skirt and pulled it down her hips, and then unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off her shoulders so I could see the slave necklace, as well as her beautiful breasts, framed by her delicate bra. Once she was standing there in her underwear, I pulled down the bra’s cups so her tits were on display. I told her to continue preparing dinner, and she turned toward the stove to start our meal, keeping her breasts exposed.

I headed into the living room and watched basketball for a while, but couldn’t really concentrate on the game because I kept thinking about Kelly. After only half an hour, I went back to the kitchen and found her standing before the stove, dressed just as I’d left her: in panties and high heels, with her bra pulled down and her breasts on display. She was too tempting to resist. I turned off the burner and said, “I’m going to play with your tits now, and I want you to be quiet. You are not to speak. If you make any noise at all, I’m going to tease you for even longer and not let you come until tomorrow. Do you understand, slave?”

She nodded. “Good girl,” I said, smiling as I stroked her breasts and then tugged on her nipples. She grabbed the doorframe for support as I twisted, tweaked, pinched and sucked on her perky nipples. I could tell that she was desperate to moan, as she’s a screamer, but she didn’t. Kelly followed my order, sometimes clutching at the wall but not actually speaking or squealing. I played with her nipples until she seemed to be on the verge of climax, then I once again left her alone. “Now finish dinner,” I said, fairly breathless myself. I followed up my command with a gentle tug on her slave necklace before I left the room.

It wasn’t easy to walk away from her when I was so aroused, but I did it. After I returned to the living room, I thought about all the things I could make her do fuck herself with a sex toy, deep throat me, or possibly even have sex with a friend of mine. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see Kelly with another man, but fantasizing about it excited me.

Before long, dinner was on the table, and Kelly was seated in her place, wearing only the slave necklace, her pulled down bra, panties and high heels.

I gave her a kiss on the cheek and started to eat, complimenting her on the chicken. She smiled at me, and I realized I hadn’t given her permission to speak, so I told her she could now talk. “Thank you. Would you like anything else?”

“Some wine, please,” I said, as if I weren’t rock hard and she barely dressed. She got it for me, then handed me the glass. But I couldn’t wait any longer and pushed my chair back from the table. “On your knees,” I said, and immediately, she obeyed. I instructed her to pull down my zipper with her teeth and pull out my cock. Holding her necklace at the back, I gently guided her head up and down my dick, giving her verbal instructions about where and when to lick my shaft.

At one point, I lifted her mouth off my dick so she could suck on my balls, and while she did, I told her, “My friend Eddie would love to fuck your face just like I’m about to do. Maybe I should invite him over one day to play with you while I watch.” Her ecstatic reply was muffled by the balls in her mouth. I pulled up her face and lightly slapped her cheek.

“What do you think of that, Kelly?”

“I think it would be hot, if that’s what you want to see me do,” she said, a perfectly submissive answer. I allowed her go back to sucking my cock, leaning down to play with her nipples as she worked. I found that the harder I pinched her nubs, the deeper she took my dick down her throat. I took advantage of this newfound fact, and by the time I finally spurted, her nipples were hard, elongated nubs.

Kelly was panting wildly by the time she swallowed the last drop of my semen. “Do you want to come, Kelly?”

“Yes, sir, but only if it would please you,” she said.

“What I want is for you to lie right here on the floor and make yourself come for me.” I saw the look of shock and disbelief on her pretty face. “Yes, right here, in the dining room, or you don’t get to come at all.”

Her choice was clear, and Kelly slipped out of her soaked panties, got on her back and gave me a perfect view of her pussy as she played with herself. She slammed her fingers into her cunt and then pulled them out to smear her honey on her clit. I love finger fucking her, but watching her pleasure herself was hot, too. She looked so sexy as she fingered herself until she shivered and moaned.

Hearing her cries of orgasm revived my cock. I approached her, giving her a kiss before flipping her over and positioning her on her hands and knees so I could plunge my dick in her pussy. It took only a few thrusts before we both came again.

Afterward, I told Kelly to wear the necklace all the time. It excites me to see this symbol of my wife’s submission around her neck, just as it thrills her to be my precious slave.

Mr. Joshua L., Des Moines, Iowa