My Controlling Wife

I married Ada in a daze of desire. It seemed impossible that she was even interested in a short and unmanly specimen like myself. After all, she is tall, with blond hair flowing to her shoulders in waves, a sweet face, and a knockout figure. I mean, her curves are stupendous. Generous bust, wide hips, round protruding bottom, large sturdy thighs. Why would she want a shrimp like me? I found out as soon as we were married. It turned out that she was a natural dominant and, just as she was my dream woman, a weakling like me was her ideal man. She wanted someone she could push around, scold, and treat like a sex slave. I was him.

Let me describe our life together. At home she likes dress me in humiliating ways. Frequently all I'm allowed to have on is a sleeveless undershirt. It makes me very uncomfortable to be half naked, but she finds it especially amusing. And Ada never tires of mocking me for the smallness of my genitals. Like the other day.

"Come over here, Larry," she snapped at me. "Let's see if you've had a growth spurt yet. Nope. Still the same old tiny dick. Why don't you play with it and see if that helps?"

"Honey, I'd really rather not." I stood there squirming. "You know that embarrasses me when I have to..."

"Of course I know. That's what makes it fun for me. But come over here and let me give you some help. It's not as if I'm completely heartless." Her pretty mouth turned up in a wicked grin.

She was on the sofa and I got directly in front of her. All she had on was a short nighty that showed off her stupendous contours. With a gesture she indicated that I should raise the front of my skimpy undershirt. I pulled it up and got the front over my head so t would stay that way. It made me feel like an absolute fool, or a naughty boy. My wife brought her hands up slowly and got her thumbs and forefingers on my nipples. She began to play with them very slowly, knowing how easy it is to arouse me that way. I whimpered and bit my lips but, despite how it was making me feel, I got hard.

"There you go," she congratulated. "A nice firm erection. All four skinny inches of it." She laughed cruelly. "Now get your hand on that thing - or maybe just your fingertips - and give it a rub."

I felt my cheeks grow warm and knew I was blushing. Still, I brought my hand to my penis and stroked its underside. Ada snickered at the silly sight I made. She kept me tugging on myself as she brought her plump legs up and wrapped them around my waist. She is much more fit than I am. When she bent her knees further, I was pulled up against her. The contact of her heavy breasts against my narrow chest drove me wild. Having my chin resting on her shoulder made me feel dependent on her. She laughed and put her feet back on the floor. I was still leaning against her but she was able to work her nighty up so that I was touching her bare breasts. With a pat on the back of my head she indicated what she wanted.

I knew the signal. Inching down, I got my mouth on the end of one breast and closed my lips around her protruding nipple. As I sucked, I continued manipulating myself. My mind was a confusion of desire and worshipfulness, a common state for me. She relaxed as she fingered my ears and whispered to me.

"Ohhh, Larry. Be careful. Don't lose control. You know how easy that is for you. Don't think about my body. Don't imagine that I'm going to let you take me to bed and climb on me, that I might even allow you to put your tiny... baby... miniature... dick inside me. Because we both know that's not going to happen. Right?"

I pulled back my head and said, "Yes, dear. I know that."

"And WHY aren't I going to let you have real sex with me, husband dearest?"

"Because..." I gasped from overstimulation. "... my pecker is too small. If you let me put it in, you would barely even feel it."

"That's right, sweetie," she said and massaged my shoulders. "But I still need my pleasure. You're going to have to use your mouth on me. Aren't you?"

"Yes." I was panting, barely able to prevent myself from finishing. "I can do that now. Or I could..."

She pulled my head down again, burying my face in her deep cleavage. I had my fingers around my slender penis and was yanking it, trying to slow down but not able to exert that much self-control. I moaned softly.

"Uh, oh." She chuckled. "Sounds like someone is going to empty their small balls." She moved her knees further apart. "You know where to aim it, Larry."

Ada allowed me to lift my head enough to see what I was doing. I pointed the tip of my organ at her shaved mound. Her moist, pink nether lips were slightly parted. We both knew how this was going to end. I made a faint mewling sound, signaling my defeat, and spurted onto her sex. My inability to restrain myself always shamed me.

"Well, well," she murmured. "My little man has done it again." She pressed down slightly on my narrow shoulders. "And now he has to clean up the mess he made. Doesn't he?"

I sniffled and said, "Yes, dear. Right away."

"But take your time," she told me as I slid down her body and got my face between her full thighs. "Make it last a long time."

"Of course. Always."

My nose was inches from her messy pussy. I inhaled the mingled scents of her feminine musk and my semen. Slowly I extended my tongue. I had my knees on the floor and my hands on her hips. She edged her wide bottom forward to give me greater access. I got a taste of what was waiting for me and my throat constricted. At the same time, a current of need was running through me. Ada had conditioned me well during the first year of our marriage, until now I was pliant, easy for her to mold to her whims. Even so, there was always mortification involved when she used me. As I licked up and swallowed some of the runny salty cream, she sighed and let her head loll back. I got my face firmly against her pubes and snaked my tongue inside. Then I retreated enough to focus on her clitoris. I knew her preferences well.

All my thoughts were on doing a good job. At that moment my world centered around lavishing attention on her and giving her a climax. After that I could expect her to lead me to the bedroom. She would stretch out and let me have an eyeful of her glorious figure. Then Ada would snap her fingers and point to the juncture of her legs, telling me to get into position and start using my tongue and lips again. My goal would be to trigger another three or four climaxes, spreading them out to maximize her enjoyment.

Finally, if I had done a good job, I might be granted my reward. Or she might be seized by some impish caprice and make me stand in the corner, or squeeze under the bed to sleep uncomfortably there, or even go to the walk-in closet to curl up on my dog bed. That last would be the worst. To be banished from her presence was complete torment. But I must have done a good job. After permitting me to obsess over her form for five minutes, she rolled over, giving me a thrilling view of the rising hemispheres of her backside.

"Go on," she told me as if granting a favor that hadn't been fully earned. "Use your pillow."

I got carefully between her outstretched legs and brought my face down toward her rear, moving slowly, not wanting to risk disturbing her and losing the hard won privilege. Cautiously wedging my face between the hillocks of flesh, I burrowed deeper until I was as far as I could go. She gave her hips a wiggle, as if to signal approval, and my heart soared.

She told me, "Let's see if you can stay there the entire night. Unless you're worried that you'll become even more hooked on my bottom."

From my warm humid prison, my voice muffled, I said, "No, Ada. Not worried. Please. Let me stay."

I took her silence as assent. A pang of shame stabbed at me. How could I be so overly devoted? How could I not?

Despite all the mistreatment and manipulation, she had taught me to love my lowly status. I was hopelessly addicted to her voluptuousness and knew I would stay that way. What new games would she devise for us to play? What further tests of my willingness - my need - to submit? I didn't know but I was eager to find out.

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