You jump a bit as the spring latch slams home, and look back at me. I
only smile and wink.

You look around; you’ve never been in my bedroom before. You look at
the mess on the floor, look back at me, but I only shrug and smile.
You watch me light some of the oil lamps, your smile slowly growing on
your face.

I turn off the light and we are bathed in the soft, gentle glow of the
lamps.

Still standing, I walk over to you and gaze into your eyes.
Nonchalantly, almost flippantly, I take off my glasses and drop them
on the dresser. Easily, oh so easily, I put my arms around your
waist, and you put your arms around my neck.

Gently, hesitantly, we kiss.

Softly your lips press against mine, soft, smooth, warm, alive. We
kiss and kiss again, and a sigh escapes your lungs between kisses.
Your arms tighten about my neck as I hold you ever tighter in my
embrace, my arms slowly massaging your back.

We’re very close, and your pelvis rocks forward, meeting my own.

For the first time, our mouths open and my tongue meets yours, both
tentative, exploring, searching. A moan builds in my throat, and you
capture it with your mouth and return it in kind. We stand there,
afraid to break the embrace, your heart beating faster and faster,
matching mine in intensity.

We break the kiss, loosening the embrace, and look into each others
eyes. You search my face, looking for a sign, afraid of “Stop”, hoping
for “Yield”.

I look down, and reach towards the top button on your shirt. I grasp
it, and undo it while gazing into your eyes. Your breathing has
slowed; you’re afraid to move. Down your shirt I go, undoing button
after button. After I have finished, I draw you close and kiss you
again. Reaching towards your collarbones, I put my palms on your
shoulders, and running my hands over your smooth skin, I push your
shirt off of you and onto the floor.

You are not wearing a bra.

Looking down between us, your already erect nipples brushing against
my chest, you run your hands up and down my waist. I shiver, and we
smile. You pull my T shirt out of my Levi’s and pull it over my head.

Enjoying the feeling of our hands on our backs, we press close again,
your breasts flattening against my chest. We kiss, not hesitating, our
tongues greeting each other like two old friends. Your pelvis presses
mine again, but with a difference… it encounters my stiffening
penis. You chuckle huskily, and wiggle your hips. I smile and tickle
your short ribs. We fall to the bed, giggling.

We roll together and, lying on our sides, embrace again. You throw
your leg over my hip and press your crotch to mine.

Taking the initiative, you kiss your way down my neck, across my
chest, and follow the hair to my navel. You tease me with your tongue,
looking up at me and smiling when I tense in response. Turning back to
your task, you undo the buttons of my Levi’s, one by one, exposing my
cock. You rub it lightly with your fingers, laying my fly open. You
begin to kiss the glans, which makes me start to move my hips. I lift
my ass off the bed, and you pull the jeans down to my knees. Lifting
my legs, you pull them off, taking my socks with them.

The Levi’s land in a heap upon the floor.

You sit back, legs folded under you, facing me from at my feet.
Looking down at your breasts, you reach up, holding them up with your
hands, then slowly rubbing your fingers over your nipples. My cock,
already erect, is beginning to pulse with every beat of my heart, my
breath short as I watch you fondle your nipples.

Ever so slowly, with a saucy smile, you reach down to your white
shorts, pushing them down, taking your panties with them. Your closely
trimmed bush is exposed at last, and you sit back to take your short
off the rest of the way.

They join the Levi’s in the heap on the floor.

You bend over my penis again, taking it into your your mouth. You lick
it, suck it gently, and kiss the glans. I put my hand on your neck,
and you look up. Let me return the favour, I say, and slide down the
bed. You sigh, and straddle my torso, letting your pussy lower slowly
over my eager face.

I run my hands over your smooth ass as you again take my waiting cock
into your mouth. I read down to your pussy lips, already puffy with
passion, and gently hold them apart. Slowly, teasingly, I run my
tongue over your slit, tasting your juices. You moan, involuntarily,
as I lick your damp pussy from back to front and back again. Pulling
your hood back with my fingers, I touch my tongue to your clit for the
first time. You gasp, and my cock pops out of your mouth as you sit
back, pressing your crotch to my face. Your hips begin to move in
small circles as I lick your clit and pussy. Mmmmmmmm.

Turn around, I say, and you swing your leg over my head and position
yourself the other way, knees on either side of my waist. You reach
down, run your fingers into my long hair, and kiss and lick your
juices out my facial hair. I smile and kiss you as much as I can.

Meanwhile, your pussy has been rubbing on my cock, the shaft parting
your lips and your dripping slit lubricating my cock. You are getting
more and more excited, and I pull you up and roll my hips, thrusting
my hard hard cock into the air, pointed at your wet, waiting cunt. My
aim is true, and you impale yourself on my pole, slamming all the way
down.

Simultaneously, I moan and you gasp, almost crying out.

With my cock buried deep inside you, all the way to your cervix, you
wiggle your hips, loving the feeling of my hard cock snug, tight,
inside your warm wet canal. You raise your hips, and begin to move
them up and down, clenching your muscles on the upstroke, relaxing on
the downstroke. This gets me, impossibly, even longer and harder and
you cry out each time my glans thrusts against, and frequently in,
your cervix.

I match you, stroke for stroke, your hair falling about your face as
you gaze down at me, arms locked, hands on either side of my chest. I
reach up, fondle your breasts and you moan even louder when I suck
your nipple between my lips, hard.

You move faster, I move faster, your arms moving to about my neck, my
hands on your shoulders from behind and we slam together, harder and
harder and harder and my cock explodes and I shoot come into your
pussy and I trigger your orgasm and both our hips tremble from the
intensity of it and you collapse onto my chest, my pulsing throbbing
cock still inside you and neither of us can speak.

A minute goes by, two, and you roll off of me to the side, my cock
cool in the naked air, and our breathing slows and the light from the
lamps dances about the walls and ceilings in delight.

–

I am a dominant wife, and I dearly love to crush the male.
We’ve been married one year. I’m 29 and Gene is 26. I stand
5′10″, measure 37-25-36, and have won several beauty contests.
Gene is 5′7″ and slender, and only his money attracted me. At
age 23, he inherited a thriving business when his parents died;
at 24, he inherited considerable stocks and bonds from an aunt.
When we dated, and I discovered he could be completely dominated,
I decided to share the wealth. He proposed, and learned he would
have to be my slave. He agreed.
Even before the wedding I sought other couples to share fun
and games. I found two perfect pairs. Bill and Ginger are 31;
Don and Phyllis are 30. Each couple is socially prominent and
dedicated to female domination. Bill and Don are big, muscular
men who, unlike Gene, are bisexual. Although I ridicule and
discipline Gene daily, Saturday night he is humiliated and
punished by others.
We arrive at Ginger’s house about 9 pm. Each wife prepares
her slave in a separate room. I know Bill and Don will wear
rubber jockstraps and be unbound. I make Gene strip, fold his
arms up against his back, and with cuffs and short chains I lock
his hands to a collar. Naked and helpless, he is marched into
the game room to stand at attention near us. Don and Bill,
making drinks, pause and run their eyes warmly over Gene’s body.
The men kneel alongside our chairs while we three girls
visit. Soon I designate one of the men to watch Gene and report
if he relaxes his attention pose. When he does, Ginger or
Phyllis gives him several hard swats with a paddle. One of them
suggests nipple rings as further punishment. A heavy steel ring
is snapped onto the tip of each nipple, and Gene’s penis rises
and swells instantly. We girls laugh at his slim six inches and
I tell him how inept he is as a lover.
Before long it is swap time. The men are handcuffed, and I
take Bill to a bedroom, peel off the jock, and he kneels and eats
cunt until I climax. He then lies on his back and I straddle him
from above. His thick, long penis feels wonderful inside me and
we explode together. He kneels, and while I whip his ass we make
a date to be together during the week.
Back in the game room, I see Gene’s ass and thighs marked
with whip lines and Ginger tells us how he pleaded when she
twisted the nipple rings. We all laugh at him. We swap again,
and this time I put Don through his paces. He has a really big
cock and enormous staying power, and I ride him hard, using a
strap on him at the same time. Then he licks me clean, I get him
up again, and while I ride we talk a bit, making fun of Gene, and
planning a date together.
Afterward, the two men are released while Gene, still
chained, stands at attention. We have drinks and discuss the
slaves’ performances; Gene suffers by comparison.
I go up to him and twist a nipple ring until he moans. I
remind him he is not to speak, so I gag him. His eyes betray his
fear. I ask the girls if their slave would enjoy playing master
a while. They agree to permit it. The men kiss our feet in
thanks. One picks up a studded leather strap, the other a small
whip, and each hook a finger through a nipple ring. I damn near
climax with joy watching Gene, naked and helpless, being taken
away for an hour by the two big muscular men.
Ginger, Phyllis, and I talk about the men, our love of
domination, and make plans for special games next time.
Meanwhile, Gene is being put through hell.
He’s a wonderful, wretched sight when they drag him back.
Covered with whip lines, ass swollen and flaming, walking as if
his balls were crushed. He must stand before us while the men
describe what they did.
Finally we go home. Gene rides naked and chained, not
knowing if I’ll release him at home, or let him sleep chained, or
put him through fun and games of my own. Whatever I do, he knows
that next week he will have to endure another evening, and that
is his role as my slave

D.B., Illinois from Variations II spring 1978

–