(This story is based on one of my wife's fantasies. Some 
of it is very real. This is the first story I've ever 
written from her point of view...hope you like it.)


"Hers"
by c.w. cobblestone

Let me begin by saying that I love my husband very much. 
We've been through a lot together, and I look forward to 
growing old with him.

But if you saw what goes on in our relationship, you 
might have a hard time believing that I care for my 
husband at all. I can't help it - I just love to abuse 
the little wimp!

He complains about it now, but he's the one who asked 
for the abuse in the first place. He opened up this 
Pandora's Box. Now he has to live with it.

George told me long ago that he wanted to be my slave. 
Now that he really IS my slave, he doesn't like it 
sometimes. 

Oh, well - tough! I like it. And that's all that 
matters.

I didn't know a thing about dominance and submission 
before I met George. Oh, sure, I'd seen a few of the 
talk-show freaks who carried whips and paraded around in 
leather masks, but I thought that was just a bunch of 
Hollywood BS. Until I started going out with George, I 
never knew there were actually people out there who got 
off on real pain and humiliation.

George tells me he's had submissive feelings all his 
life. But before he met me, he was afraid to let anyone 
know about that part of him. He says he never trusted 
anyone enough to tell them. 

It took him awhile before he finally got up the nerve to 
confess his fantasies to me. We'd been going out for 
quite a few months before he finally let me in on his 
deep, dark secret.

It happened one night while we were at my apartment 
watching television. He had been acting strangely all 
evening, and I wondered what was up.

"Uh, honey...I have something to tell you," he finally 
said during a commercial. "But I don't want you to think 
I'm weird or anything."

"Think you're weird? Why? What do you mean?"

"Um....well, I love you...and I...well, I've always had 
these fantasies..."

I perked up. "Fantasies?" I repeated. "What fantasies? 
What are you talking about?"

Poor George. He looked so embarrassed as he tried to 
find the right words! He stuttered and floundered, and 
nothing intelligible came out at first. But finally, he 
took a deep breath and came clean.

"I've always fantasized about...about being a slave to a 
beautiful woman like you," he said in a tiny little 
voice. "It's something I've always wanted. I don't know 
why, but it's always been there."

I didn't quite know what to say.

To tell you the truth, the whole thing kind of shocked 
me. I thought it sounded really weird. Of course, I 
didn't tell him that. I felt so sorry for him - he 
looked as though he expected me to either laugh at him 
or throw him out of my apartment.

He stared at me with those puppy-dog eyes and asked me 
what I thought about his fantasy.

"Well, it's something new to me," I said diplomatically, 
"but it sounds like it might be interesting."

George was so happy that I wasn't mad or put off by his 
confession, I thought he was going to grow a tail and 
start wagging it!

Okaaaaaay. So now we were going to try some domination 
games. Hmmmmm. This was definitely going to be 
different, that's for sure! I wondered if I'd have to go 
out and buy a leather outfit with spikes in it or 
something. I just couldn't picture myself running around 
in a silly uniform like that!

When I asked George exactly what his fantasy consisted 
of, he cleared his throat and looked sheepishly down at 
his shoes.

"Um...well," he stuttered. "Uh...well, I kind of...I 
want to be your slave."

"You already said that. What does that mean, exactly?"

"Anything you want it to mean," he answered. "Whatever 
makes you happy, Cassie."

"But you already make me happy," I said. "I don't 
understand what you're getting at."

George looked like he was getting exasperated. "I don't 
know how to explain it to you," he said. "I want to be 
your slave. I want you to order me around and stuff."

"You don't want me to beat you or anything...do you?"

"Well, I don't know...if you want to...or if I displease 
you in any way...I don't know..."

I took that to mean "yes."

*   *   *

And so we started playing our kinky little bedroom 
games. George brought home a cat o' nine tails for me to 
use on him, and a pair of stainless-steel handcuffs. 
Frankly, I felt kind of stupid whipping him and calling 
him names, but I did my best to bury my feelings and 
make his fantasies come true.

At first, I assumed this "slave game" was going to be a 
prelude to more traditional intercourse, but I soon 
found that George couldn't get it up when he was in his 
submissive mode. It didn't make sense to me, but when I 
was being dominant, his dick just hung there. 

He'd never had a problem maintaining an erection before. 
I couldn't figure it out: if this was his all-time 
sexual fantasy, how come his dick wouldn't get hard? 

I was very disappointed, because having my pussy stuffed 
by a big, hard dick is one of my favorite things in the 
world. But again I kept my feelings to myself. I really 
wanted to make George happy, so I tried even harder to 
get into the role of Evil Mistress Cassie.

It took some getting used to, but eventually the 
strangeness of the whole thing began to wear off. I soon 
found myself looking forward to our "Mistress and slave" 
sessions. Once I got past my initial apprehension, I 
discovered that I actually enjoyed being mean to George. 
I started coming up with cruel new ways to punish him, 
and he loved every minute of it. 

And it's funny: the meaner I was, the more docile he 
became. And the more docile he became, the meaner I was. 

I was starting to get it. This B&D thing wasn't just 
about running around in leather costumes and whipping 
each other. It was about power.

So now that I had this power, I decided to start using 
George's subservient nature to a more practical end. If 
he really wanted to be my slave, I thought, then by God, 
he was going to get exactly what he asked for!

A couple days later, I took my first step toward making 
George's "slavery" something more than just a bedroom 
game.

I came home from work and found the house an absolute 
mess. I hit the roof! I'd been busy and hadn't had the 
time to clean - and George hadn't done a damn thing to 
pick up the slack.

Enough of this bullshit, I said to myself. I called 
George from his computer room and ordered him to get 
down onto his knees in front of me.

"Listen, George, you keep telling me that you want to be 
my slave, but it seems like I'm the one doing all the 
work," I said. "I whip you, you lick my pussy and then 
you play with yourself and have your orgasm. How is that 
being my slave?"

George looked down at the floor. "Uh...I don't know, 
Mistress."

"Well, George, there's going to be some changes around 
here," I said firmly. "First of all, why am I still 
doing the housework if you're my slave? Look at this 
place - it's a pig sty! I don't see why I should have to 
come home from a hard day's work and clean, while you 
sit on your ass, playing with your computer. What good 
is having a slave if I have to deal with the housework? 
So from now on, you'll be taking care of it."

I gave him my list: he was to do all the laundry, all 
the dishes, take my clothes to the dry cleaner - every 
dirty little job I hated doing, I assigned to him. I 
half-expected him to protest, but he didn't. He just 
bowed his head and humbly whispered, "yes, Mistress."

Yep, I thought...I can certainly get used to this!

*   *   *

We got married that fall. It was a lovely, traditional 
wedding. George's best man dropped the wedding ring 
during the ceremony, but other than that everything was 
perfect.

*   *   *

As the months passed, my new role became second nature 
to me. I found myself ordering George around even when 
we weren't "playing." Power is a wonderful aphrodisiac, 
and I was drinking in every drop. I couldn't believe 
that I'd ever had negative feelings about the D&s 
lifestyle. I came to the conclusion that every woman 
should have a slave!

But all was not perfect in our kinky little Valhalla. 
While I'd certainly found an unexpected pleasure in 
bossing my husband around, I was really starting to get 
sexually frustrated. 

As my husband's Mistress, I knew I could make him lick 
my pussy or asshole any time I wanted. But that was the 
only sex I ever got, and although George certainly has a 
talented tongue, I needed more. 

I needed to be fucked!

But I didn't want to shatter George's ego. He was 
already afraid that I didn't enjoy his "Mistress and 
slave" fantasy - he was constantly asking me if I really 
liked it or if I thought he was weird. I didn't want to 
further distress him by telling him that his fantasy, 
while certainly enjoyable for me, wasn't doing the trick 
sexually. 

I had him go to an adult bookstore and buy me a big 
dildo. That was okay for awhile, but after a few weeks 
the plastic phallus just wasn't cutting it anymore. I 
didn't need plastic; I needed someone to hold me and 
make love to me.

It was starting to become a real problem, and I finally 
decided not to keep it to myself any longer. So one 
night I sat George down and let him in on my dilemma.

"Listen, honey, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but 
I'm not being satisfied at all," I said. "This slave 
thing is your fantasy, not mine. Don't get me wrong - I 
think it's fun and all, and I do enjoy it - but it 
doesn't really get me off sexually."

George looked like he wanted to cry. "I-I'm sorry, 
Mistress," he sobbed. "Don't I do a good job of pleasing 
you?"

I smiled. "Sure, honey, of course you do. But I'm not 
talking about your tongue. I love it when you lick me, 
but that's not the problem. I need sex, George - good, 
old-fashioned sex. Nothing fancy, nothing kinky - just a 
good, hard fuck. But you say you can't get it up when 
you're being submissive. So I have an idea."

"W-what's that?" he asked.

"I want you to step outside your role once a week so we 
can make love like normal people," I said. "I've tried 
to make you happy and help you live out your fantasies, 
but I have my needs, too. So this is a good compromise. 
Just once a week - do you think you can handle that?"

"I'll try," he said.

"Good," I sighed with relief. "Then why don't we get 
started tonight? You don't have to clean the house 
tonight, George - just sit down and watch television. 
Just relax, and when you're ready to come into the 
bedroom, let me know."

"Yes, mistress," he said. 

I grimaced. Why was he calling me mistress? I'd just 
released him from his slave duties for the night! He 
obviously wasn't totally clear on the concept.

Nevertheless, I went upstairs and eagerly waited for my 
husband. I was so excited - I was actually going to have 
sex for the first time in months! I really got dolled up 
for the occasion, putting on my sexiest nighty and 
painting up my face like a porno queen.

Alas, the anticipation was about the only excitement I 
got that night. In other words, our big evening turned 
out to be a dud.

Although we were able to successfully copulate, there 
were no fireworks whatsoever. I didn't come close to 
having an orgasm. George's heart obviously wasn't in it.

As he continued his lackadaisical humping, I found 
myself getting mad at him for not being able to please 
me. After he had his uninspiring orgasm, I rolled over 
in a huff and turned off my lamp.

"Honey, what's wrong?" he asked. I was obviously pissed, 
and he was obviously worried.

I felt a cruel streak run through me. "George, you fuck 
like a turtle," I sneered. "Evidently, you enjoy me 
whipping your ass more than you do making love to me. 
Maybe I should just keep you as my slave and find 
someone else who can take care of me that way."

George's face turned red, and he stammered something I 
couldn't understand. I glanced down at his dick, and it 
was standing straight at attention, despite his orgasm 
only moments earlier. 

Right then, I knew I had hit a nerve...

*   *   *

We tried again the next week, but the result was the 
same: it was like fucking a dead man. The second time 
around, George had a difficult time maintaining an 
erection. He kept humping my leg, pathetically trying to 
get hard again, until I finally told him not to bother. 

Again, I rolled over and went to sleep angry and 
unfulfilled.

I was really getting frustrated, and I found myself 
starting to take that frustration out on my husband. I 
ran him until his tongue hung out. I began making him 
scrub the kitchen and bathroom floors on his hands and 
knees, rather than just mopping them like before. And in 
the bedroom, I really laid into him with the whip. He 
would cry and moan and beg me to stop, but that just 
made me whip him harder.

I still loved my husband very much, but I was concerned 
about the direction our relationship was taking. I was 
losing respect for him because he couldn't satisfy me 
anymore. And I must confess: I was starting to give 
other guys a closer look...

*   *   *

One Thursday afternoon, I was having lunch with my 
friend Gail in the office cafeteria. The subject of our 
husbands came up, and Gail, always a horny bitch, 
started telling me all about her sex life.

"Rick is a tornado in bed," she told me. "He can't get 
enough - four, five times a night and that still isn't 
enough!"

I felt pangs of jealousy run through me as I listened to 
Gail talk about the great sex life she enjoyed with her 
husband. I debated whether to tell her about the 
problems I was having with George, but I decided not to.

As Gail and I were gabbing, Mike, one of the billing 
department supervisors, came by our table. I'd talked to 
him a few times, but I really didn't know him all that 
well - he was a friend of Gail's.

"Hey, girls," he said. "Enjoying your lunch?"

He smiled at me and I melted. I really hadn't taken 
notice before, but God, was this guy handsome! He was an 
older black man, I guessed around 40, and he had a 
distinguished, confident air about him. His demeanor 
perfectly matched his greying, mature good looks. 

I got lost in his piercing blue-gray eyes as I sat there 
like a dummy staring at him.

"Wake up, Cassie!" Gail joked. I snapped out of it, 
embarrassed.

"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry!" I sputtered. "I must've been 
daydreaming."

"Uh huh," Gail said knowingly. "Daydreaming..."

Mike must've also sensed that I was smitten with him, 
because he immediately started to make his move. 

"I'm sorry, Cassie, I didn't think to ask - would you 
like some dessert?" he asked, putting an affectionate 
hand on my shoulder. "I'm going up to get a piece of 
that lovely cheesecake. Would you like a piece?"

"No...uh, okay, yeah, I guess so," I stammered. I 
couldn't figure out why I was acting like this. I was 
hot as hell inside...but I knew I had to suppress those 
feelings. I was a married woman!

After Mike disappeared to get our dessert, Gail nudged 
me in the ribs. "What's going on, Cassie? I know he's a 
hunk, but why are you flirting with him like that? Isn't 
George giving you what you need at home?"

"I'm not flirting with him - does it look like I'm 
flirting with him?"

"Oh, come on, honey, it's only as plain as the nose on 
your face!" she laughed. "Whether you mean to or not, 
it's obvious you have the hots for ol' Michael! I don't 
blame you, either - he's a dream, isn't he? If I wasn't 
married, I'd jump his bones in a minute!"

"Oh, be quiet," I waved her off, trying to maintain my 
composure. "I'm not flirting with him."

"Okay, Cassie, if you say so," she said archly as Mike 
approached our table. 

He leaned over and set the piece of cheesecake in front 
of me. I could smell his manly aftershave, and I 
shivered. "Here you go, Cassie," he said, smiling at me. 
"Bon apetite!"

I was trying to be cool but it wasn't working. Aside 
from being so handsome, Mike was also very witty, and I 
found myself laughing nonstop as he entertained us with 
one funny anecdote after another. The lunch hour just 
flew by!

Gail teased me all day about Mike. She even left a 
message on my voice mail: 'Hi, Cassie. It's me. Just 
wanted to give you a word of warning. You know what they 
say: once you go black, you can never go back. So be 
careful! Bye, honey!'

The little bitch!

Just before quitting time, she came up to my desk and 
whispered, "I know a good hotel that charges by the 
hour!"

I punched her in the arm playfully. "Get out of here, 
Gail, you're crazy!" I laughed.

But despite my attempt to keep up appearances, I knew my 
friend was right. I was head over heels.

*   *   *

When I got home that night, I felt a little guilty. Even 
though I hadn't actually done anything, I felt like I'd 
cheated on George somehow. I knew in my heart that if 
Mike had asked me to go get a room with him, it would've 
been very hard for me to say no!

I felt sorry for George as he scurried around taking 
care of his evening chores. It wasn't his fault he was 
the way he was. He really did try his best to please me. 
For some reason, he was born a submissive. I accepted 
that when I married him.

I watched as my poor husband toiled at the kitchen sink, 
doing the dishes. He was so devoted to me - how could I 
even think of cheating on him?

That night, I had George lick my ass while I pummeled 
myself with my dildo. As I came, I started shouting, 
"Ohhhh, God, Mike, yes, do it!" I didn't even realize 
what I was saying until after my orgasm.

"Who's Mike?" George asked after I had calmed down.

"Nobody, I was just fantasizing," I said. "Go to sleep."

Before I turned over, I looked down at George's little 
pecker. Sure enough, it was hard as a rock.

*   *   *

Mike was waiting for me the next day at lunch. 

"Hel-lo, Cassie, you look especially fetching this 
afternoon," he said brightly as he sat down next to me. 
"I see you're by yourself today."

"Yeah, Gail's at a seminar," I said. "It was a last-
minute thing - Mr. Schwartz told her about it only this 
morning."

Mike looked at me with those hypnotic eyes. "I know," he 
said. "I have to confess: I'm the one who set it up."

"Set what up?" I asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I'm the one who told Schwartz to send Gail to the 
seminar."

"What? But...why?"

Mike winked at me. "So you and I could be alone, that's 
why."

I felt the little fire inside my belly start to heat up 
again. I averted my eyes and cleared my throat. 
"Uh...Mike...you know I'm a married woman," I said 
unsteadily. "I can't...I can't...you know..."

Mike smiled. "Yeah, I know," he said soberly. "Say, how 
long have you been married, anyway?"

"Since last September."

"Oh." He looked like he wanted to say something else.

"What is it?" I prodded. "You look like you've got 
something on your mind."

"Well, Cassie, actually, I do," he said slowly. "Look, I 
don't want to be rude..."

"But what?"

"Well, it seems to me that you're awfully unhappy for 
someone who only got married last September."

I felt a chill run through me. He had me pegged.

Mike reached out and lightly touched my hair. "You're 
such a beautiful, beautiful woman," he said. "It's a 
shame for someone like you to have to go through life 
unhappy."

"But I'm not unhappy," I said.

"Then what's the problem?"

"There is no problem," I lied.

I think Mike knew I was lying, but he had enough class 
not to pursue the matter any further. He changed the 
subject, and soon he had me laughing again.

When the lunch hour was almost over, Mike took my hand 
and helped me to my feet.

"Listen, Cassie, I know you're married...but won't you 
at least come with me after work to get a cup of coffee? 
I really enjoy your company."

"Uh, I'm afraid I can't," I said.

"Oh, come on, Cassie, it's just coffee," he implored. 
"I'm not out to make you do anything you don't want to 
do. I just want to get to know you a little better."

"Just coffee?"

"Yeah. I'll meet you in the parking lot at six."

*   *   *

My coffee date went beautifully, as I feared it would. I 
don't believe in ESP, but there was a spritual 
connection between us that's hard to describe. 

We sat in the diner talking until nearly 10 p.m. Every 
now and then my mind would drift to my poor husband, 
waiting for me at home. He had to be worried by now - I 
was almost four hours late getting home! I thought about 
calling him, but I didn't want to make Mike 
uncomfortable. The phone booth was right by our table, 
and I was sure he'd know who I was calling. 

Hell, I thought, I'll just tell George that I was out 
with the girls from work. He'll buy it. 

Besides, I told myself, I really wasn't doing anything 
wrong - just having coffee with a co-worker, that's all. 
I had absolutely nothing to feel guilty about, right?

Yeah, right.

But it wasn't too hard to forget about my husband - Mike 
was the most engaging conversationalist I'd ever met. He 
seemed to know a little bit about everything! I was 
especially delighted to find out that he shared my 
passion for classical music and the ballet.

"If you want, I can get tickets to the symphony next 
Saturday," he offered.

"Well, I don't know..." I said. "I don't think it would 
be...you know."

"Your husband?" Mike raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you're 
so concerned about him, why are you still here with me? 
Isn't it kind of late? Don't you think he's wondering 
where you are by now?"

I looked at my watch. Five to ten. Mike was right - why 
was I still here?

I fidgeted with my necklace, unsure of how to answer his 
questions. Mike leaned forward and lightly held my 
fingers.

"You're not telling me something, Cassie," he whispered. 
"What is it?"

"I'm sorry, Mike," I said. "I don't mean to lead you 
on...I love my husband very much...but I...oh, God, 
Mike, I just feel like I need someone to hold me 
sometimes."

"Doesn't your husband take care of that department, 
Cassie?" he asked gently, knowing damn well what the 
answer was going to be.

"No, Mike...he doesn't. He...well, he doesn't make love 
to me anymore."

"Doesn't make love to you?!!? What kind of fool is this 
guy, anyway?"

I desperately wanted to tell Mike about the problems I 
was having with George, but I couldn't. I felt guilty 
enough for what I'd said already. So I kept my mouth 
shut.

Mike put his hand on my shoulder and I shuddered. He 
lightly traced his fingers down my arm, raising 
goosebumps along the way. I felt my pussy start to get 
warm and squishy - I wasn't used to having a man caress 
me this way. My husband's touch was the careful touch of 
a slave. This was different.

Mike put his face close to mine, and I could smell that 
sexy aftershave. His breath was hot in my ear.

"Cassie, I know you're married," he whispered, "but I 
think you're the most beautiful woman on earth, and I 
want to make love to you like you've never been made 
love to before. There's no way you can deny what's going 
on between us."

I nearly came right there in the diner. I knew I had to 
stop this before it went too far.

"Uh...Mike, listen, I gotta go," I suddenly blurted out, 
rising quickly from the table and knocking over the salt 
shaker. "I can't...I mean...I just gotta go!"

Mike was calm about it. "It's okay, Cassie," he said, a 
slight smile tracing the corners of his mouth. "I 
understand."

The bastard! The least he could've done was make a big 
scene because I wasn't going to sleep with him. That 
would've made it easier to be mad at him. 

But he had too much class for that. He just grinned 
confidently, gave me a gentlemanly peck on the cheek, 
then escorted me out of the diner.

And that made me want him even more.

*   *   *

Poor George had the entire house spic and span by the 
time I got home. He was in the kitchen finishing up his 
floor-scrubbing when I walked through the door at a 
quarter to 11.

He rushed toward me with a worried expression on his 
face. Before he could say a word, though, I decided to 
use my position as his mistress to keep him off balance.

"Get out of my way, George," I said in my best 
"mistress" voice. "I'm tired and I want to go to bed."

"W-where were you, honey?" he asked. "I was worried to 
death!"

"I was out with friends," I lied. "A bunch of us got 
together after work and had a few drinks. Now move, I 
want to go to bed."

Just before we drifted off to sleep, I turned toward my 
husband. "Oh, George, I forgot to tell you - next 
Saturday, I'm going to the symphony with some people 
from work," I said casually.

George rolled over and looked at me sadly. He looked 
like a wounded Labrador. "Am...am I invited?" he asked, 
the words catching in his throat.

"No, you don't like the symphony anyway," I said. 
"Besides, Saturday you have to paint the garage, 
remember?"

He looked like he wanted to cry.

"Yes, Mistress," he said softly.

I felt sorry for my husband, but my mind was elsewhere. 
I couldn't wait to tell Mike that I'd be joining him 
Saturday! I reached under the covers and softly caressed 
my pussy...

*   *   *

I spent all day Saturday getting ready for the symphony. 
George kept making excuses to come into the bathroom 
while I was doing my hair.

"You look beautiful tonight, Mistress," he said as I 
preened in the mirror. "I really wish I was going with 
you."

"George, you don't even like classical music," I said, 
eyeing the reflection of his long face in the mirror. 
"You always call it sissy music. Besides, you'd only be 
bored if you did go - it's just a bunch of people from 
work. We're gonna talk about work stuff all night."

I was feeling an intense mixture of guilt and 
anticipation. I felt so bad for George. If he knew what 
was really going on, it'd break his heart.

But my libido eventually won out over my guilt. All I 
could think of was seeing Mike again. He was everything 
I'd ever wanted in a man - and I knew he just HAD to be 
an animal in the bedroom. No whips and chains for this 
guy!

Right or wrong, I knew I was about to find out.

*   *   *

I don't know how I made it through the concert. Mike 
looked so handsome in his expensive dark suit, I wanted 
to jump him right then and there.

Not long after the music started, Mike casually put his 
hand on my knee. I felt like I was going to have an 
orgasm just from his touching me, but I was somehow able 
to maintain control.

Mike looked over at me and smiled, showing off his 
perfect white teeth. He didn't say a word; he just 
lightly squeezed my leg and turned his attention back to 
the orchestra.

By the time intermission came around, I was out of my 
mind with lust. As we stood in the lobby of the concert 
hall, I leaned close to Mike and whispered:

"I can't stand it anymore. I want you, Mike - right now! 
Let's not stay for the second half."

Needless to say, Mike wasn't at all disappointed that 
we'd be missing the rest of the concert!

We rented a room at the first decent hotel we came to. 
While we were on the elevator going up to our room, Mike 
grabbed the back of my head and forced his tongue down 
my throat. He started caressing my shoulders, then 
slowly worked his way down. He reached under my dress 
and touched my pussy through my panties. That was all it 
took: I had a loud orgasm, right there in the elevator!

I had to compose myself as I felt the car start to slow 
down at the fourth floor. The bell rang, and an elderly 
couple got on the elevator. They smiled at us and I 
smiled back, hoping they wouldn't notice my labored 
breathing and flushed skin.

When we finally got to our room, Mike didn't waste any 
time. He threw me onto the big bed and was out of his 
clothes in a flash. He was in very good shape for a man 
in his forties. My eyes drifted to the bulge in Mike's 
underwear, and I gasped.

Mike joined me on the bed and kissed me, starting at the 
nape of my neck, then moving down to my breasts. My head 
was swimming - this guy knew exactly which buttons to 
push! 

Finally, when he started sucking my nipple, I couldn't 
stand it any longer. I'd reached my boiling point.

"Oh, God, I need you to fuck me, Mike!" I begged 
breathlessly. "I've got to feel you inside me NOW!"

Mike shucked off his underwear and I got my first 
glimpse of his magnificant black cock. It was absolutely 
gorgeous, and my mouth literally watered in 
anticipation.

He moved up closer to me and forcefully spread my legs 
apart. I offered no resistance. I couldn't have stopped 
him if I'd wanted to - my legs felt like jelly!

He teased me at first, rubbing his cock lightly over my 
pussy lips, putting it in just a fraction of an inch 
before withdrawing it again. I squirmed around 
helplessly, pushing my hips forward in a desperate 
attempt to get him to give me what I needed so badly.

Suddenly, he shoved his dick all the way into me in one 
massive thrust. I nearly passed out, and Mike had to put 
his hand over my mouth to stifle my screams or somebody 
would've called the cops, for sure! 

I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my teeth and 
snorted like an animal. I never believed sex could be 
this wonderful! Mike was scratching a year-old itch, and 
I knew I could never go without that satisfied, well-
fucked feeling again.

He kept taking me to the brink of yet another 
orgasm...then he'd slow his pace, pulling his dick all 
the way out before plunging it back in again. Finally, 
he started really fucking me hard, and his  staccato 
thrusts took me to an even higher level of rapture.

After a few minutes of frenzied fucking, Mike let out an 
anguished moan and pulled his dick from my pussy. He 
held his cock at the base and massaged it for a second. 
Then he took a deep breath, threw his head back and 
began shooting his hot, pearly manhood all over my 
belly. 

My lover collapsed on top of me, and I sobbed into his 
shoulder...

*   *   *

I woke up with a start and looked over at the clock on 
the nightstand. Oh my God - it was 2 in the morning! I 
shot out of bed and hurriedly began to get dressed.

Mike sat up and watched me. "Honey, it's too late; he's 
gonna know something," he said.

"Mike, what am I going to do?" I asked as I fumbled with 
my bra. "I can't believe we fell asleep like that!"

"It's okay, Cassie," Mike said. "Just tell him you went 
to the bar with your friends after the concert."

"Do you think he'll buy it?"

"I wouldn't," he said with a chuckle.

*   *   *

The look on George's face when I came through the door 
told me he knew. He looked so sad, and the consequences 
of my actions began to really sink in. I tried to avoid 
eye contact with him as I brushed past him and went 
upstairs to get undressed.

My first instinct was to take a shower, but I thought 
that would be a dead giveaway. So I just crawled into 
the sack and started to go to sleep. George came into 
the bedroom and sat at the foot of the bed.

"What happened tonight, honey?" he asked, choking on his 
words. "You said you'd be home by 11:30."

"Oh, me and a few of the girls decided to go to the bar 
after the concert," I said casually. I was unable to 
look him in the eye, and I knew my lame alibi was 
falling flat.

"Why didn't you call, Cassie? I was really worried about 
you, honey."

"Well, you shouldn't be worried," I said, turning over 
and brushing my hand lightly through his hair. "We kind 
of got caught up in our conversation, and by the time I 
thought to call, I figured you would be in bed already."

I could tell George wasn't buying it, but he said 
nothing. He just sadly turned away and shut off his 
lamp.

"Good-night honey," he said softly.

"Good night, George," I answered. "I love you."

George turned to me with tears forming in his eyes. "I 
love you too, Cassie," he whispered, and my heart 
melted. 

I hated myself. I was such a selfish bitch! I knew 
George loved me more than anyone ever could - and I'd 
just betrayed him!

Still, I got a great night's sleep. My body felt 
absolutely limp after the pummeling Mike had given me. I 
slept like a baby.

*   *   *

I didn't wait long to get together with Mike again - we 
hooked up again Tuesday after work. I called my husband 
and told him I was going out to the bar, then Mike and I 
got a room downtown.

That night, Mike introduced me to the pleasures of anal 
sex. It hurt, but it felt kind of good, too. Afterward, 
Mike convinced me to smoke a joint for the first time 
since college. Then we went at it again. Our lovemaking 
was very intense - I'd forgotten how wonderful sex can 
be with a good buzz on! 

Afterward, we finished the joint and had a long 
conversation. I told my lover all about George and his 
submissive nature. Mike seemed to be slightly amused by 
the whole thing.

"Let me get this straight," he said. "He's got a 
beautiful woman like you...and he doesn't even WANT to 
make love to you?"

"No...all he wants is for me to whip and abuse him. 
That's what gets him off."

"Oh, well," Mike drawled, "his pain - my gain!"

I couldn't help but laugh at that one. We fell into each 
other's arms, giggling like a couple of kids. And then 
we fucked again.

After we finished making love for the third time that 
night, the mixture of exhaustion and marijuana started 
to take effect. My eyes were starting to get heavy...

*   *   *

When I woke up and saw that it was 4 in the morning, I 
knew the jig was up - I was going to have to tell George 
about Mike now. I knew I had no excuse for staying out 
this late.

This was my second "night out with the girls" in three 
days, and I figured George already knew anyway. Ever 
since my trip to the symphony, he'd been walking around 
with a sad look on his face, and there hadn't been much 
conversation between us. In my heart, I knew that he 
knew.

This time I didn't even bother trying to hurry. I 
leisurely got dressed, talking to Mike as I put on my 
clothes.

"I'm trying to figure out a way to tell him, Mike," I 
said. "This is going to break his heart."

Mike looked at me and smiled. "You see, Cassie? That's 
why you're so special - after all this, you're still 
worried about your husband."

"Of course I am," I said. "I love him."

*   *   *

It was starting to get light out by the time I pulled up 
in the driveway. I could see that the living room light 
was still on, and I steeled myself for whatever was 
about to happen.

I tentatively opened the front door and found George 
sitting on the recliner. There were tears in his eyes, 
and he looked like he'd been sleeping in that chair all 
night.

"I'm sorry, honey," were the first words out of his 
mouth. "Was it something I did? If so, please tell me - 
I'll never do it again."

He was so precious! Here I was, the one who'd just 
betrayed him, and he was apologizing to me! I felt just 
terrible about what I'd done to my poor, sweet husband.

I sat down on the arm of the chair and wiped the tears 
from his cheek.

"No, honey, I'm the one who should be sorry," I said, 
feeling my own tears begin to form. "I never meant to 
hurt you."

"But...but why?" he asked. "I try so hard to please you. 
Don't I please you, Cassie?"

I didn't have the heart to remind him that he didn't. 
But I didn't want there to be any more lies between us, 
either.

"Honey, you please me in a very special way," I said. 
"But I told you about my needs before, and we tried to 
work it out. But it just didn't work out, George. I'm 
sorry."

"Who is he?"

"He's a guy from work," I said. "A black guy. You don't 
know him."

We sat there for awhile, saying nothing. Finally, George 
broke the silence.

"So...now what?"

I didn't have a ready answer for him. How could I tell 
him that I wasn't about to give up seeing Mike?

George sensed what I was thinking. "Honey, I want you to 
tell me right now: is there still room for me in your 
life?" he sniffled.

"What a question! Of course there's room for you! What 
kind of a thing is that for you to say?"

"Well, I don't know...are you going to stop seeing this 
guy?" he asked.

I swallowed hard and looked deep into my husband's eyes. 
"No," I said, "I don't want to stop seeing him. I don't 
know what to do, honey. I love you more than anything 
else in this world. But Mike gives me something that I 
need, and it's something you can't provide, George. We 
have to be realistic about it. Do you expect me to go 
through the rest of my life without sex?"

George bowed his head. "No, I guess not."

"So what's the answer?" I asked. "I don't know. I just 
know I don't want there to be any more lies."

George looked up at me with those big, brown, submissive 
eyes. "So...what you're saying is...you want to keep on 
seeing him?"

"Yes."

He fell to his knees and started sobbing into my lap. 
"Mistress, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't give you what 
you need. I can't help the way I am. I don't know why I 
want to be treated like a slave. I don't know why I 
can't make love like normal. All I know is that I love 
you very much. You're the person I've been looking for 
all my life, and I want you to be happy."

"So, what are you saying?" I asked. "Does that mean you 
accept Mike as my lover?"

George batted his eyes demurely and whispered, "yes, 
Mistress."

I felt an incredible rush of power sweep through me. If 
I could convince my husband to accept my screwing 
around, then he truly WAS my slave!

"Listen, George, I'm getting tired," I said, reaching 
down and putting a matriarchal hand on his cheek. "I'm 
going to go to bed. We'll talk about this more in the 
morning."

"Yes, Mistress."

I yawned. "Okay, George, come to bed. And if you're 
good," I added, "I'll let you lick my pussy when I wake 
up tomorrow."

"Oh, thank you, Mistress!"

His submissive attitude toward the whole thing was 
really starting to make me feel naughty. I smiled 
devilishly at my husband.

"So you don't mind, then?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you don't mind licking me...after I've been 
with Mike? I'm not exactly clean, you know."

George turned red. "No, Mistress, I don't mind," he 
whispered. I looked down and saw his pecker straining 
against his pants.

*   *   *

I called Mike the next day and told him what had 
happened. Of course, he was ecstatic.

"That's great, Cassie!" he said. "I can't believe it - 
how did you ever convince him to let you continue seeing 
me?"

"Well, remember, I'm the Mistress of the household, so 
what I say goes," I told him. "George is really serious 
about wanting to be my slave. So basically, that means I 
can do whatever I want."

Mike chuckled. "Boy, aren't you the spoiled little 
brat!" he joked. "Well, I think you need to be taken 
down a peg. The next time I see you, I'm gonna turn you 
over my knee and spank that ass!"

"Promises, promises," I bantered back.

Just then, the front door opened and George entered the 
room carrying an armful of bags. He was back from his 
grocery shopping already. I was startled at first - even 
though I now had carte blanche to openly see Mike, I 
didn't want to rub my husband's face in the affair. I 
figured I'd better hang up the phone now that he was 
home.

"Uh...listen, my husband just got in," I told Mike. 
"I'll let you go, okay?"

"No, it's not okay," Mike answered in a teasing voice. 
"Why do you gotta hang up just because he's home? You're 
the mistress of the household, remember? You can do 
whatever you want to do! Besides: what if I don't want 
to hang up with you right now?"

I glanced up at my husband, who was bringing in the 
second load of grocery bags. "Don't be mean, Michael," I 
whispered. "The poor thing is already bummed out about 
this. I don't want to hurt his feelings."

"But he likes having his feelings hurt...doesn't he?" 
Mike retorted. "I thought he got off on that shit!"

"Well...I don't know," I said. I craned my neck to peek 
into the kitchen, where George was busy unpacking 
everything. "I guess he does kind of get off on it. 
Every time I mention you, his little pecker gets hard!"

"So...he can't get it hard for you - but when you 
mention me, he gets a boner. What is he, a queer?" Mike 
joked.

"Mike, you're terrible!" I whispered. "Don't be so 
mean!"

"Mean?!!? I'm not being mean - I'm just playing along! 
I've heard of guys like this, Cassie - the meaner you 
are to them, the more they get off on it! Maybe he'd 
like it if I came over there and fucked you."

"Over here?!!?" I gasped. "Oh, no, Michael, we could 
never do that!"

"Why not?"

"Don't you think George would get upset?" I asked.

"Sure, he'd probably get upset," Mike laughed. "I'd be 
upset too, if someone was fucking my wife!"

I giggled and peeked back into the kitchen. George was 
staring right at me with a sad look on his face. That 
familiar feeling of evil power began to engulf me, and I 
leaned back on the couch and began touching myself 
through my jeans.

"Michael, George is right in the next room, and he can 
hear everything we're saying," I said loudly. "Do you 
have a message you'd like to give my sweet slave of a 
husband?"

Mike laughed. "Sure, Cassie. Tell him I appreciate his 
being so understanding about our affair."

I called George into the living room and repeated Mike's 
message: "George, Michael says thank-you for not trying 
to stop our affair!"

My husband's face turned red - but sure enough, the 
mini-tent in the front of his pants was starting to 
grow.

I giggled and told Mike about George's condition. "I 
think George likes you, Mike," I said. "He's got a cute 
little boner!"

Mike snickered, then said, "Well, baby, I'm getting a 
boner myself - and it may be cute, but it sure ain't 
little!"

"Oh, there's no comparison, believe me!" I said, eyeing 
my husband's crotch. "George's little two inches just 
don't measure up!"

I caught eye contact with my husband. He had a glazed 
look about him, and his face was blotchy and flushed. I 
knew I must be turning him on something fierce!

Mike's voice broke into my thoughts: "Cassie, I want to 
see you tonight!" he said. "I've gotta have some more of 
that sweet pussy!"

An evil thought suddenly occured to me. 

"Mike," I drawled, "I know all about the nasty little 
things you want to do to me. But we have to be polite 
about it. You have to ask my husband's permission 
first!"

Mike laughed as he realized the game I was playing. 
"Sure thing, honey, put him on the phone!" he said.

I handed the reciever to my husband. "It's Michael," I 
explained. "He wants to talk to you."

George took the phone and studied it apprehensively for 
a second. Then he put the reciever up to his ear and 
cleared his throat.

"H-hello?" my husband asked tentatively.

I couldn't hear what was being said on the other end, 
but my husband's face dropped about a foot. He looked up 
at me, then turned his head away in shame.

George sat there listening to Mike for a few minutes, 
then handed the phone back to me.

"Michael, what did you say to my husband?" I asked 
teasingly.

"Oh, nothing," Mike said casually. "I just said I wanted 
to thank him for not keeping a beautiful woman like you 
to himself!"

"Did you get permission to defile me?" I asked, looking 
at my downtrodden husband with amusement.

"You know I did," Mike answered. "And I plan on defiling 
your prissy little ass tonight. I'll come pick you up 
around 8."

*   *   *

I had George help me get ready for my date with Michael. 
He shaved my legs for me, then I had him pick out some 
lingerie for me to wear.

"Mike likes me in black," I hinted as he went upstairs.

After a few minutes, George came down holding my black 
teddy. I smiled when I saw his choice.

"Good boy! I think Michael will like that one, don't 
you?" I asked.

"Yes, Mistress," he said sadly.

I snatched the undergarment from my husband's hand and 
frowned at him. "Oh, George, what are you moping around 
for?" I asked. "We already agreed on this, didn't we? 
Don't you want me to be happy?"

"Yes, Mistress, I do...but it makes me sad, too."

"What makes you sad? That I'm going to get my brains 
fucked out tonight? Don't lie to me, George - it doesn't 
make you sad, it makes you horny. Doesn't it?"

"Well...yes, Mistress, it does turn me on, sort of."

"Sort of?"

George averted his eyes. "Yes, it...it does turn me on," 
he amended his statement.

"Good!" I said. "Because you know what? It turns me on, 
too! Especially the part where Mike puts his big dick in 
my pussy. Oh, God, George, you just don't know how good 
that feels!"

*   *   *

Mike came by at 8 as promised. I thought he was just 
going to beep his horn, but to my surprise, he came up 
to the house.

"I wanted to meet your stud of a husband," he said as I 
invited him in.

My "stud of a husband" happened to be on his hands and 
knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor. When I came into the 
room holding Mike's hand, George looked like he wanted 
to die. He started to rise from his subservient 
position, but Mike stopped him.

"Oh, don't get up on my account," he said. "I wouldn't 
want to interrupt your chores. I know you have so many 
of them to do!"

George didn't say anything. He just played with the 
scrub brush and averted his gaze.

Mike chuckled. "Well, George, we've gotta run. I just 
wanted to stop by and say hi. And I wanted to thank you 
again for letting me...uh, enjoy Cassie. She's truly a 
beautiful woman, don't you agree?"

George tried to say something, but the words wouldn't 
come out. So he just nodded.

Mike turned toward me. "C'mon, Cassie, we're going to be 
late for dinner."

I took his arm and we started to walk away. Suddenly, 
Mike stopped and turned back toward my husband.

"Hey, Georgie," he called, pointing to a corner of the 
floor. "You missed a spot!"

I playfully hit Mike in the arm. "Stop it, Michael!" I 
said. "You're soooooo mean!"

"That's what you like about me, honey," he joked, then 
gave me a forceful kiss, right there in front of my 
husband.

I opened my eyes and looked at George. He looked so 
pitiful, hunched up on the kitchen floor, holding the 
scrub brush in his hand. 

It made me feel positively wicked!

"Bye-bye, honey," I said sweetly. "You be sure to take 
care of everything around here. Mike here will take care 
of everything else!"

With that, Mike and I left for our date.


*   *   *

So that's what our relationship has come to. I still 
love my husband very much, but I also enjoy the hell out 
of abusing him.

I've started bringing Mike home after our dates. Of 
course, George didn't object, although he was sad at 
first. I suggested that George come into the room and 
watch how a "real man" satisfies me, but Mike was 
uncomfortable about having another guy watch him. So 
George has to content himself with kneeling outside our 
bedroom door, listening to our passionate lovemaking. It 
turns me on so much to know that while Mike's fucking my 
brains out, my husband is right outside the door waiting 
to serve us cold drinks in bed when we're finished!

Although Mike constantly teases George about his slave 
status, he does have a certain measure of respect for 
him. Mike knows that I still love my husband very much, 
and he wouldn't do anything to really hurt him.

As for me...well, I'm on the gravy train. I can still 
have my warm, loving relationship with my husband - but 
when I need a good, hard fuck, it's only a phone call 
away.

And, to top it all off, I still get my house cleaned on 
a daily basis.

Is this a great country, or what?
