When a dying aunt leaves her only niece a trust in her name, along with a house to go with it, she also leaves her in receipt of some advice regarding her handsome and somewhat patronising husband.
Advice that will lead to a female led marriage.
And a life of sexual and domestic humiliation for the once independent husband.
Prologue – The Present
Of all the positions in which she liked to fuck, and with any man, this was the most enjoyable.
In her bedroom, in her bed, in her home, with her husband.
Though it was a shame that needs required it be only a once yearly thing.
A naked husband with his hands flat to the mattress and his buttocks atop them as she straddled him, naked except for her 80-Denier opaque stockings in the most stygian black; the sound of her hose rasping against his bare legs as she rode him adding a soundtrack to her excitement that complemented perfectly the whimpers signifying his own excitement she could hear coming from the man who had shared her life these past seventeen-years.
A man who was well aware that she did not enjoy hearing too much noise from him when she was in the process of allowing his cock its once a year entry into the pussy that had once been his to take at will.
Call it a birthday treat.
And a man who, earlier that evening, had not only prepared three friends and fellow teachers a delicious Italian meal, but had actually served it and danced attendance upon them the whole evening while taking in the teasing of the three women good-naturedly while remaining ultra–deferential to his demanding wife.
But then, why wouldn’t he?
He was her househusband, after all.
And a whole lot less when it was just the two of them and they were away from public scrutiny.
Her lip curled with the pure and malicious pleasure that came from having wrested total control from a man who had, nonetheless, and while not a monster or too controlling, taken a patronising and superior attitude towards her from day one of their courtship and subsequent marriage.
An attitude that was now history and would never be allowed to resurface again.
The pure delight she took from his service to her ensuring that fact.
By the dim light of a bedroom-lamp, she could see him staring up at her and marvelled at the change she had wrought in those eyes. Where once there had been a kind of settled and by-the-numbers love beamed back at her; a love that gave no surprises and expected none in return; now there was something quite different.
And more than just one something.
What she saw in those eyes now was everything her late-aunt had told her could be hers – if she would only realise what kind of man she had married and got past those handsome looks to make best use of his real… potential.
The “if only”, of course, not being the walk-in-the-park her aunt’s no-nonsense tone had made it out to be and, weakness or not on her husband’s part, it had taken an act of courage on her part; along with her growing dissatisfaction with their bland and childless home-life and, more crucially, her aunt’s legacy, that had finally forced her to act.
That she now had him beaten and broken to her will – and the journey to which she had committed them in order to get him to such a stage – was enough to send her over the edge on its own, but the fact he looked up at her with such adoring and needy eyes as she took the plunge, despite her treatment of him, only served to take her arousal into nebulas and galaxies unimagined by the vanilla housewife she herself had once been.
Was she cruel?
Yes, and no. The man who had once been her equal, maybe even considered himself her superior, would now be lost without her loving control. Surely, to let him go would make her cruel, and that, she knew would never happen!
Was she a pervert?
Definitely – even if it hadn’t always been the case before the intervention of a loving aunt who was, at the least, as deviant as her niece.
Was she evil?
Perhaps – though she was, understandably given the pleasure her current position of authority provided, more than willing to leave that assessment to a higher authority.
As her position astride the man who had once asserted equal rights as a partner allowed her to reach down and stimulate her clit with greedy fingers, this as she increased the pace with which she rose and fell upon her husband’s crow-bar hard cock, she again gave thanks to the aunt who had set things in motion and brought her existence to real life.
As she went over the edge for the first of what would be a number of orgasms from her rise and fall upon her husband’s well-trained penis, her aunt was at least on a par with her euphoria in thoughts that were as grateful as they were deviant for the series of eye-opening talks, and the bequest that had followed, that had allowed her to become the woman she now was.
The same woman now so confident in her ownership of him she felt entirely safe in the surprise gift she intended to offer him after she had done him the honour of allowing his cock from its cage in order that she might ride it…