This month I will begin selecting titles from the Cave’s extensive catalogue of female-led fiction to bring you a themed compilation containing storylines describing the dominant woman in each of her irresistible and imperious guises.
For less than half of the usual retail price you can now enjoy three books under one cover describing various controlling goddesses and their male victims who are brought to heel by a variety of means; including cuckolding and age-regression, the occult, mind-control, blackmail and, sometimes, obsession, together with pure economic desperation.
And the theme for April…
Wives descending to the dark side and husbands unable to resist their newly minted desire for complete female sexual dominance.
As well as domestic and financial!
Control and dominance will alter the lives of both husband and wife forever.
And certainly NOT for the greater good of the duo’s male half!
Our first tale in the triad is “Hubby’s New Place” from Rafael Menton in which a wife in a previously loving relationship is led astray by her Biloxi female fitness instructor on the Gulf coast. A wife persuaded to take advantage of her husband’s recent and debilitating encounter with Sepsis to not only wrest control of their Real Estate Agency from him but to put him on a domestic footing in the home…
And the literature she is led to online and in book form by her new friend and practitioner of the female-led lifestyle is not going to soften her growing fascination with becoming the dominant force in the life of her husband and the father of her two grown daughters – even if she does genuinely love him still.
A Beta Husband
Love him or not, though, with her friend’s help she has come to believe he has certain traits that make him ideal for the kind of wife-led autocracy she has in mind and will be far happier if he could be forced to acknowledge his true beta-status to adapt to the new regime she wants in both their home and their bed.
A regime that will force him to insist it is her right to have herself pleased by other men of her choice regardless of the consequences for both his manhood and the future of their life together.
Consequences, she may just find, that is not entirely to her liking…
Rafael Menton is a UK-based Professor of English Literature with a retro passion for the early to mid-twentieth-century fiction of mystery, crime, suspense, and horror & romance with erotic female-led undertones. Mr Menton’s literary tastes range from Doyle and Blackwood and on to Rohmer – as well as sometimes indulging in a more contemporary take of his own on the work of those masters that enables the reader to bring his/her own imagination to the story being read.
If you enjoy stories that, without being unnecessarily explicit, trigger those more stygian and erotic areas of the imagination while invoking the spirit of assertive women, and are as believable as they are dark, it’s more than probable you’ll delight in Mr Menton’s stories from a female-led perspective on the subject of crime, horror, the occult and the erotic, domestic and sexual bondage of man to woman.
A snippet from “Hubby’s New Place”:
Her thoughts lingered on the image of her husband greeting her in the way that was now customary upon her return from the office – this with him waiting naked in the hallway for her to let herself in before he shuffled to her on his knees and placed respectful lips upon the back of the hand she dangled disdainfully before beaten eyes.
Eyes that may have had a beaten look to them these days but still retained a hunger for her.
A hunger she truly believed was greater now than in his more… manly …days
As she rode her supine and submissive husband to the latest of her own orgasms, his hands flat to the mattress beneath his own buttocks, naked save for the black stockings she had spent the whole day working and perspiring in, the audio of her hose rasping against his sides served to underpin the still wondrous sensations of mastering this man who had once been her equal partner.
In contradiction to his own physical weakness, his erection was bolt hard and, as always was perfect for her.
Especially as he knew what would happen if he fired off without her permission and deprived her of her own orgasm.
Another consideration underpinning the joy she took in her domination of him.
Not that she required any such validation.
Why would she when the cock behind her was securely locked away and the key dangling from a slim chain about her neck.
A Suspicious Husband
The second book in our compilation of wives gone to the bad and the husbands who succumb to their new desire for control is James Grosvenor’s “My Not So Loving Wife”.
This is Mr. Grosvenor’s acclaimed tale of a husband in what he thought was a wonderful marriage.
A husband becoming suspicious when his normally geographically clueless wife directs him effortlessly to a supermarket in a town they hadn’t visited together before.
A supermarket that backs on to a certain apartment development.
Enlisting the help of a friend to clone his wife’s phone – to either calm or corroborate his suspicions – what he finds will not only shock him to his core but ensure his life will be placed on an entirely different and male submissive trajectory from then on…
James Grosvenor is a professional educator domiciled on the UK’s North-East Coast currently in the process of completing his second novel on the subject of the controlling women; be she wife, girlfriend, or unwanted acquaintance.
A snippet from “My Not So Loving Wife”:
First things first.
My name’s Harry Madron and yes, I know, I sound like an LA detective from one of those old seventies NBC and CBS productions from across the pond.
The truth, however, is a deal more prosaic and I could barely be further away from a “Quincy” or “Baretta” or “Rockford” type with an incident filled past and a trailer-home at Paradise Cove.
Though life has become a little more… interesting… recently.
You see, and for those of you who haven’t guessed, I’m the Harry of the prologue and at the time of writing I was about as confused, angry and anguished, as I ever expected to be or wish to be in the future.
I live just outside London, I’m fifty-three, and twenty-one years married with two grown up daughters who are no longer at home and are studying at separate universities in the north of the country. I work out of the house that’s now bought and paid for as a freelance and very part-time copywriter. A transition I made with the support of my wife after having taken an early retirement package from the London agency where I’d spent my whole working life.
Physically I’m in decent shape but certainly no muscle freak. I weigh-in at 11lbs more than I did when I was married and Terry – short for Theresa – assures me I’m as handsome now as I was then and she loves the silver streaking my still full head of dark hair.
Nice to hear but carrying less in the way of cache than it used to when…
Excuse me. I’m racing when I need to be considered. I’m the one telling this story so you’ll only be getting the one side of it. The least I can do is be analytical and fair to the others involved so that you can pretty much make your own mind up on the subject. Though I have to say, “fair” is about the last thing I feel like being after…
Excuse me once again.
Anyway, as I was about to say, I’m not in bad shape even if I eschew the efforts I see a lot of men my age putting in at the gym and elsewhere to try and hold back time’s inexorable tide. Go with what you’ve got and compensate. A heart attack trying to pump iron doesn’t make much appeal to me, so that’s why I walk, mostly with the son of some neighbours who live in the same cul-de-sac as us in the buzzy Kent village of Westerham. Chris is a shy but really bright kid who flunked out of university at about the same time my daughters went in and, at twenty-four, works out of Gayle and Brian’s house designing software for computer-games rather than commit to the nine-to-five and the commuter run.
I mention this because Chris and his nous when it came to the computer and other technical issues are instrumental in my story.
Dominated and Age-Regressed
Completing our triad of loving wives having their heads turned is “A Husband Shamed” Maria Wain-Vincent’s erotic and well-received debut novel.
Ms. Wain-Vincent describes the fall to humiliation, cuckoldry and domestic service of one handsome and older husband at the hands and feet of his newly empowered and perverted young wife.
A wife with the reins of economic and sexual power in her hands who is about to use it to ensure her husband not only becomes more obedient but does so while treated as if he is an errant schoolboy.
A husband whose feelings of humiliation and self-disgust are made even more powerful when his wife enlists the aid of her two young nieces to supervise him in the home.
A snippet from “A Husband Shamed”:
“Come over here, Spencer, and undress me.”
The burgeoning confidence receded almost instantly and I immediately knew its cause.
Not to know it, in fact, would have been pretty near impossible under the circumstances.
“Don’t worry about him,” I said referring to the likewise fully clothed figure kneeling with his nose in the corner and afraid to move. “I’ve told you, he is absolutely tame. My husband does everything I tell him and won’t bother you.”
“But…?” Spencer’s voice was almost a whisper as he betrayed his incomprehension at the situation and I knew that what he was about to experience would have a defining effect upon the rest of his sexual life. That experience being a boat that had already sailed in respect of the young married woman he was about to fuck. And how grateful was I for that!
“But…” he persisted. “He… He’s your husband. Why would…?”
He got no further as I closed the gap between us and reached a hand down between his legs to cup my hand around the magnificent balls that dangled beneath an equally breath-taking erection. Or, to be more precise, balls that sagged beneath his cock. So full were they of the youthful cream that defined his virility as well as his age.
“That’s none of your business, young man,” I told him in an authoritative voice that reflected my position as the rising young star of my legal chambers and, in effect, his boss. Or at least one of them. “I didn’t invite you to my home to ask questions but simply to fuck.” I slid my hand the length of the solid bar that was his pole and was encouraged to find it was losing none of its urgency despite his apparent misgivings. “Or do you have a problem with putting your cock at the disposal of the boss who can either make your working life very pleasant or ensure you don’t work for our chambers at all?”
“No, hmm, Ms Kenton,” he said in the respectful way in which he addressed me at the office and I insisted he maintain now we were outside, lest he somehow get the impression that fucking me made him my equal. “I think you’re just great and… and I don’t have a problem with, you know, doing that. But… well…”
“Go on, say what you want to say,” I urged in a voice intended to assure him he could speak freely and there would be no repercussions.
“Well… It’s just that… I mean, he’s your husband. He’s so much older than you and… I mean, what is he? Forty? Fifty?”
“Forty-four,” I told him, expression letting him know, along with the tightening of my grip about his shaft, that I was getting a tad fed-up with his questions.
“Yeah, well, I just don’t understand how he can, you know, kneel in the corner while his wife… while his wife…”
If you have suggestions for the themes to be used going ahead with the monthly “Editor’s Choice” feel free to add a blog of your own highlighting what you would like to see by way of a compilation and I’ll do my best to oblige you.