A New Story, Coming Soon!

Not sure just yet what his will be called, but here's the first of three planned chapters. Thanks, as always, for helping me enjoy the writing life!

There was as much art as science to the clitoris. Carrie’s left leg was lifted, her fingers strumming her lips like a silken guitar. A dip inside and then she could coax some of the moisture from her canal over her labia. Then more stroking along the seam, now wet and slippery. That really got the engine going. A moment more of that, and then she circled the swollen button under her hood. While the one hand performed these ministrations, her other held her phone. On the screen was a woman in a tight black leather pants, circling a thin blonde with her arms bound behind her. She was blindfolded, ropes linked together to lift and highlight her modest breasts, a strap between her legs. The leather-clad woman circled the blonde, plucking at her taut nipples, scolding her, telling her that she was nothing more than a slave. More stroking, more pressure on Carrie’s clit. The dominant woman in the video was spanking the blonde, who twisted away from the strikes as best she could, which was not very well at all. The blonde whimpered and begged while the dominant’s hand smacked against the smaller woman’s reddening ass. Carrie’s hips bucked. Sweat beaded on her forehead. In a moment, she’d be able to put the phone aside and finish, maybe really let loose with a scream.

“Honey?”

Fuck. Will was home. She didn’t hear the door, and now he was on the stairs, the tell-tale groans letting her know that he was rounding the turn in the stairs to the second floor. With a click of her thumb, the video was silenced and banished. Carrie tugged the waist of her yoga pants up and sat upright. By the time he opened the door, Carrie was sitting up and scrolling through her phone like nothing at all was happening. Certainly not a much-needed orgasm. She worried Will might smell her scent on the air.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Laundry. Or I was about to. Got distracted by this TikTok. Want to see?”

“No. Thanks. I got off a little early today. I thought we might get some dinner downtown. I know it’s a weeknight, but how about we live a little?”

She was close to getting off herself, but Will had put an end to that. She could invite him into bed, but then he’d poke her with his thin dick and shoot his load, leaving her unsatisfied. And God forbid she let him between her legs with his clumsy tongue.

“Sure,” she said with a painted-on smile. “Let me get cleaned up and we can go anywhere you want.”

“Hey, you look fine to me. Practically glowing.”

“Thanks, handsome. But I think a shower might be just what the doctor ordered. Don’t worry. I won’t be long.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell him to go down you.” Mona was spinning the ice in her Bloody Mary with the celery stick. She removed it and sucked the red end of it and plopped it back in the tall cocktail glass.

“I would if he was any good at it.” Carrie had been complaining over the fruit course of the brunch date with Mona, feeling once more underdressed in the presence of her friend.

Mona was a woman set apart. I fit hadn’t been for their friendship in college, Carrie found it highly unlikely the two of them would be friends. She’d been exotic even then, with her long dark hair and pale skin. There was a touch of Goth in her appearance, or maybe that was only Mona’s penchant for fishnet and dark leather. Carrie wondered privately if it was Mona’s fashion sense that she was attracted to in her videos. Not for the first time, Carrie wondered what might have happened if she allowed Mona’s overt come-ones to go past mere flirtation. But she’d made her choices, and now she and Mona maintained a close friendship and nothing more.

In the years since college, Carrie found her way into a lucrative, if dull, career in corporate accounting. Mona used her beauty and lack of inhibitions to gather a following on the internet. Her OnlyFans page was popular, featuring videos of Mona stripping and teasing on camera. She had the voluptuous figure for it, and Carrie could vouch for the fact that Mona was all-natural. She had gorgeous tits, the kind that women envied and men drooled over. With her lips painted black and dark eyeliner highlighting gray eyes, she was beautiful in that alternative way. In addition to the ash she raked in from her web modeling, Mona wrote naughty stories and published them online. Between those two revenue streams, and a few semi-professional gigs on the side, she was living a carefree life.

Mona took another long drink from her Bloody Mary. “He can be trained, you know. The fact that you haven’t whipped him into shape is on you, not him.”

“I like that he isn’t some macho asshole, I really do,” Carrie said. She had a mimosa and took a more ginger sip from her glass. “He’s thoughtful, he’s sweet, he’s attentive. He’d do anything in the world I asked him to do.”

“Sounds like a nice change of pace from most guys,” Mona admitted. “Not that I bother with them anymore.”

Carrie shifted in the chair on the restaurant’s patio. The thought of Mona and another woman was a sexy one. One of the benefits of Mona’s lifestyle is that no subject was out of bounds. Nonetheless, Carrie was reluctant to reveal her true feelings when it came to her own sexuality, and especially with Will.

“It is nice. But sometimes I wish I had a nice girl to spank.” The last sentence came out in a tumble. The fact it came out at all was probably due to the mimosa and her recent frustrations.

“You don’t say?” Mona sat up in the chair across from Carrie. Her focus intensified. “You haven’t been watching my channel h, have you?”

“No. You know you’re not the only woman on the internet.”

“I’m not complaining.. I think this is great. I just wish you’d let me know you were into women in college. We could have had a lot of fun.”

“I’m not into women. I just tend to wage girl/girl videos when I’m… you know.”

“When you’re rubbing one out?”

Carrie wrinkled her nose. “I hate that expression.”

“What do you prefer? Flicking the bean? Tickling the little man in the canoe? Maybe the old standard, fingering yourself?”

The waitress passed by and Carrie’s cheeks burned. It was ba enough she was discussing this with Mona, much less the staff of the restaurant. The waitress was cute though, if a little plump. Pretty blonde hair and makeup drawn on a bit too thick, but her lashes were long and dark. She could picture a pleading look on the plump girl’s face.

“I love my husband.”

“I don’t think anyone is arguing that. The matter before the court. At present is how you like to get off. A little light bondage, perhaps?”

“It’s exotic.”

“Not if you don’t want it to e. I can honestly say, as someone who has tied p more than a couple of girls both professionally and for personal pleasure, it can be a very good time.”

“I don’t think that bringing some bondage slut into my marriage is appropriate.”

“Bondage slut? Oh, you have been doing your homework. That’s not what I’m getting at, though. I’m saying you already have the bondage slut in your house. You just have to tell him that’s what he wants.”

A moment passed before Carrie caught up with Mona’s words. “Will? He would never do that. He’s the sexual equivalent of skim milk. It’s not that he doesn’t try…”

“Not tonight, Carrie. But I’m sure you’ve heard the tale of the frog in the pan of water. You raise it to a slow boil and the frog never feels a thing. If you wanted to, you could make Will whatever you desired. You only have to do it in small increments, so that he’s behaving just as you like before he realizes it. In fact, if you do it just right, you could dress him up in heels and have him begging for a taste of that sweet little kitty and he’d thank you for it.”

Carrie shifted in her seat. It was fine for Mona to talk that way, but it wasn’t really possible. Was it?

“It’s Pavlovian, darling. You have what he wants between your ears and between your legs. Your job is to condition him to behave the way you want to get those things.”

“It’s a nice idea, but I don’t think it would work. Will’s too normal.”

“Everyone has their buttons. I bet you know his. Besides, this is simply too delicious not to pursue. How about you try one thing for me. If it doesn’t work, so be it. If it does… Well, we have quite an adventure ahead of us.”

Carrie hesitated, but she knew she would agree. After a sip of her mimosa, she leaned across the table. “Tell me,” she said.

Carrie was on the sofa when Will arrived home from work. There was nothing particularly trying about the day, and yet he felt exhausted. The mundanity of it all, he supposed. It was as if there was an endless march of days ahead of him doing the same old thing. He discovered he had little ambition for moving up in the company, nor did he have a drive to find a new job. And so he existed in that workplace limbo where he found no real joy or pride in his work, nor did he despise the job. That apathy led to frustration at himself more than the work, and these were the thoughts which consumed him when he arrived home and found Carrie lying on the sofa cushions with a warm, wet bath rag across her forehead.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

He might not be a paradigm of accomplishment when it came to his career, but he loved his wife. His greatest accomplishment was in convincing Carrie to love him, and so he knelt now at her side, taking one of her hands in his own.

“Just a headache. Sorry I haven’t made anything for dinner yet. Give me a minute and I’ll pull myself off the couch.”

“Don’t be crazy. I can take care of it. You rest here. Anything else I can get for you?”

Carrie shook her head shallowly. “No. I appreciate it. I’ll have to make it up to you later.”

And so Will changed into his sweats and tee that characterized his lounge attire and went to work in the kitchen. Carrie watched from her place on the sofa, occasionally closing her eyes when she felt Will watching her, but otherwise keeping an eye on her husband who was making a mess of the kitchen, but doing just what she’d asked. The execution might need some tweaking, perhaps, but Will was checking his phone for recipe details while he prepared some Balsamic chicken. The smell was quite good.

“Waiting for some veggies to soften. Thought you might want this.” He placed a glass of water and a pair of ibuprofen tablets beside it on the coffee table.

“Thanks, my love,” Carrie smiled. She tried to keep a little weakness in her voice, but the truth was she felt fine. More than fine, in fact, she was heartened by Will’s behavior since he arrived home. Carrie wasn’t one for illness, so he might have overreacted in his worry for her, but that was fine. He was fussing over her and doing anything she asked.

Small steps, Mona said. One degree at a time until they had this frog properly boiled. For the first time, Carrie thought the endgame might be possible.

She stirred and performed for Will, saying she was feeling better, that she only needed a little rest. To her delight, the meal was very good. Will chattered away about finding the recipe on an app he liked, how easy it was, and how happy he was Carrie was feeling better. She gave praise here and there, nothing too effusive. Mona instructed her to be careful in doling out the positive reinforcement. A gambler’s pace, Mona said. Just enough to keep Will wanting more.

Carrie loved her femininity. Fresh from the shower, she ran her hands down legs smoothed by razor and lotion. In a world where femininity was often equated with weakness, she refused to allow herself to look anything less than perfect. She didn’t wear makeup to bed, she wasn’t insane, but she did make sure that her skin was treated with appropriate care and that her nails were done with an attention to detail. While she finished her nightly rituals, she imagined Will doing these things for her, attending her like a handmaiden. The idea excited her. By the time she finished and moved into the bedroom, her pussy was already warm between her legs.

Will was in bed, scrolling through his phone, probably some of his fantasy football sites he liked to peruse. He enjoyed his football, and reserved his Sundays for lounging and watching the games while complaining or cheering the results. That was another thing Carrie might train out of him. At the very least, it was an idea that further stoked the fire between her legs.

Will offered a smile when Carrie slid into bed beside him. She admired his body, thin and athletic. When they met, she thought he might have been a runner, but it happened he was naturally lean. He practiced no sport or exercise regularly, instead relying on an enviable metabolism and young age to keep him trim. Carrie’s hand snuck beneath his gray tee and up his chest. Not much hair there. Not as smooth as she would like, but not so masculine as to ruin her momentary fantasy, either.

“Hey there,” he grinned. She liked how quickly he responded to her touch. His voice would drop an octave when he was feeling frisky, and he had that tone now. “You look like you’re feeling better.”

“I wanted to thank you for dinner. You helped me a lot tonight. I thought I could help you, too.”

The hand that rubbed his chest moved south, dancing over his boxer shorts. His cock was already thick inside, and she gave him a squeeze, urging him toward an erection. She knew his sexual geography and had him moaning softly while she traced her fingers along the length of his thin pole.

Without another word, Carrie climbed on top, guiding him into her. She was wet and ready for him, but not because of some intense desire for her husband’s penis. It was the fantasy playing out in her mind, one in which Will was smooth and soft and eager to please. That last part required no training, and Will worked to drive deep inside her. She rode him, grinding her hips against his while she angled his member just right to move across her clit.

Carrie quickened the pace, and soon she was writhing, cupping and pressing her tits while she moved fast towards her climax. Will was done, squirting his seed, but she didn’t release him, even when he gasped and mewled, and complained that it was too sensitive. Carrie ground harder until she felt her own orgasm radiate from her center and send tingles throughout her body. She released him, finally, while his cock shrank against his belly.

Carrie rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling with a pleased grin on her face. Will was panting, thanking her, kissing her, telling Carrie how much he loved her.

Good, she thought. Let him adore me. See where that gets him.

The first two nights were the same. Will cooked dinner while Carrie reclined on the sofa, free of the ruse she was sick. Instead, she asked and Will complied. The next five nights, she didn’t even have to ask. When Will came home, he changed clothes, usually some basketball shorts and a tee or those black shorts with the holes in them she detested, but after he went to work in the kitchen. Like a good boy.

To his credit, he was capable with his meals. He was leaning on recipes from the propped-up tablet on the counter, but the end results were quite delicious. Carrie made him promise to make healthy meals, and so he had, leaning hard on a Mediterranean menu he’d found online. She was delighted by the crisp flavors.

Carrie gave him his reward each night, her passion stirred by the idea that he would be ready for the next step soon. Thirty days makes a habit, she heard somewhere. And he was a quarter of the way there.

“It’s almost Halloween, you know,” she said over dinner, interrupting the comfortable silence between them.

“I didn’t think you cared about that.”

“I didn’t. But I thought it might be fun. I don’t think we have very much fun anymore.”

Will offered a noncommittal shrug. “If you want. And so long as I don’t end up on the wrong end of a horse costume or something.”

“You don’t want to be holding onto my ass all night?”

Will blushed and wiped his mouth. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I want to go shopping. You and me, after you clean up the plates. Maybe we’ll find something that will capture our imagination. If not, I do need to get some new hose for work. Two birds with one stone. How’s that sound?”

“Fine, I guess. As long as we’re not out too late.”

“It’s shopping, not clubbing. I swear, Will, you say the funniest things sometimes.”

Carrie took special note of how he withered in his chair while they finished their meal. That chagrined expression fueled her desire more than his overt passes ever had.

After dinner, Carrie made Will wait for her while she touched up her makeup. She continued to talk so he had to stay close, and she caught his eyes in the mirror as she worked her cosmetic magic. Moan recommended the tactic, making him aware of all the rites of womanhood that accompanied something as simple as making a shopping trip. And Will watched, just as Mona assured Carrie he would. He watched the eyeliner drawn and the lashes brushed, the painting of lips and the work done to make her skin flawless. Soon enough, he would have to copy these motions, so Carrie performed her work slowly and purposefully.

When done, she waited for Will to open the car door for her, and then again when they arrived at the outdoor mall. It was cool, and the globe lights were on. The whole place would be shutting down in less than two hours, but that would be more than enough time. They weren’t here for a costume, of course. It was just another small step in her husband’s training.

“Hold this, will you?” she said, and didn’t wait for a response. She shoved her purse into Will’s hands and then grabbed a dress from a rack and slipped into a dressing room. When done, she announced the dress wasn’t quite right and pushed ahead, leaving her purse in Will’s hands as he chased behind her.

They did come to a Halloween store, one of those that pops up in the empty spaces of malls and outdoor shopping centers, and Carrie led them inside. Will grumbled once about holding her purse, but Carrie put an end to that swiftly.

“Do you know how many men carry their wives’ purses?” she asked. “Don’t you think there are men that would give anything to be in your position.”

He tried to save face with some under-the-breath murmuring, but Carrie ignored it and flattened a witch’s costume against her body.

“What do you think? Too on the nose?”

“You’re not a witch,” Will offered.

“No?”

“You’re the most amazing woman in the world.”

Carrie laughed, almost a giggle, really. She had him cooking her meals and holding her purse for her like a manservant, and he was thanking her for it. Her buoyant mood led to some impractical purchases of Halloween decorations, LED-lit jack-o-lanterns and a ghost for the front door that boo-ed when people approached thanks to a motion sensor. It was frivolous, sure, but Carrie couldn’t help it. She loved Will trailing her around, carrying not just her purse, but their shopping bags, too. It was like having her own eunuch or something.

Back home, the purchases were dumped unceremoniously in a living room chair for sorting that weekend. Carrie eyed Will while he placed her purse on the kitchen table. He’d carried it from the car, too.

“You were so helpful tonight, honey. Being man enough to carry my purse around like that.”

“It was no big deal,” he said, but Will blushed again. It was clear that he was annoyed.

“I think it was a very big deal, and good boys get rewards. You want your reward my good boy?”

Carrie approached him slowly, swaying her hips with each step. His eyes followed their pendulous swing.

“I like it when you talk sexy,” he grinned.

“Is that so?” Carrie was close, walking her fingers up Will’s slim torso. She cupper her hand under his chin. “I can think of something else you might like. Don’t. Move. A. Muscle.”

Carrie sank to her knees, slowly unbuckling the leather belt around Will’s narrow waist. Slender fingers opened his pants and slowly unzipped him. She spread him open like a filet and reached into the opening of his boxers. Inside, he was already growing hard. Her touch had him aching. His uncircumcised cock appeared before her. Carrie flashed her eyes up at Will, who looked down at her in a mixture of awe and desperate need. She held the gaze while she opened her mouth for him, licking the tip of his head before swallowing his thin penis entirely.

Then, her eyes closed and she went about the business of bringing him to climax. He wasn’t complicated, no man really was. She moved her tongue against his underside, moved her head down the length of him and out again until he was twisting his fingers in her hair. She stopped, keeping Will in her mouth, and moved his hands away. He understood, and instead kept his hands at his sides, balling and un-balling his fists while she worked him into her mouth, to the back of her throat, and away again. She increased the pace until she heard the familiar grunting of her husband when he was near to losing his control.

“I’m going to cum,” he warned. Carrie didn’t answer with words, but rather with a quickening of her tongue’s flicking against his swollen tip. “Oh god,” he moaned, and then he was spilling his cum over her tongue. Carrie dutifully swallowed it down, slurping and kissing his reedy cock while she finished him off.

When she was done, she stood with no further word and smiled as she wiped her lips. Will gaped at her, amazed at this stranger who replaced his wife, but his dopey smile said that he had no complaints. Carrie brushed off her dress, turned, and left him standing in the living room with his pants gathered around his ankles.

There was no blowjob the next morning, but Carrie announced as they rose that she wanted to go to brunch.

“No getting drunk on mimosas,” she warned Will, “but I think a little treat would be nice. I’m in the mood for crepes.”

“Sounds wonderful,” he replied.

He waited while she prepared herself, and then cleaned himself quickly before they were out the door. He once more opened the car door for her both in their driveway and once they parked on the street in the fashionable downtown district. Café Paris was pricey, but they had a wonderful patio behind the café where they could sit and enjoy the mid-morning sunshine.

It was Carrie who asked for their table from the hostess. While she spoke, she handed her purse back to Will, who took it without a word, and carried it all the way to their table. It was good that Carrie was just a step ahead of him. He might have asked about the smile on her face.