A Higher Level

This is about a man and a woman who very nearly failed at their relationship—before this night, and before it became a story about a woman and her man.

The Goddess returned from her shower to find her knight sitting on the edge of their bed. As one of his routine duties, he had collected the clothing she had dropped on the floor and placed it in a basket with other laundry that he would do in the morning. The man was naked as she had instructed. He looked at her adoringly, expectantly, almost child-like as she entered the room. It was an expression to which only now she was growing accustomed. Except for a towel that was wrapped around her wet hair, she was also nude. Though she carried more than a few extra pounds on her frame, she strode confidently to her chair and sat down. She knew by the way her knight drank her in with his eyes that he truly did not care, in fact, actually relished the voluptuous curves that now formed her middle-aged body. Contrary to social standards bent on convincing her otherwise, this made her feel more desirable and all the more deserving of his worship.

Tonight, as the object of his worship, she would address a different persona of the man who was her husband. As well as her knight in shining armor, he was her partner, her best friend and confidant, and her lover. And because he had given himself in submission to her, he was also her servant and sometimes her slave. “Fetch your collar,” she said authoritatively.

He rose obediently to his feet and retrieved a black leather collar from a dresser drawer. As he approached her with collar in hand, she snapped her fingers and pointed to the floor. He went down instantly and covered the remaining distance to his Goddess on his knees. Handing her his slave collar, he leaned forward.

She fastened it around his neck, then she sat back and smiled. He had purchased the collar at her request from a leather crafter on eBay. It was the first D/S toy they had added to their bedroom toy collection. The Goddess used it often. She liked seeing her man wear his collar and marveled how he obeyed her implicitly when wearing it. Moreover, she found it was easier to dominate him when he was collared. She lamented that, because they still had grown children at home, she could not have him wear it as often as she desired. She had assured him however, that once the kids were gone, she would have him wearing his slave collar, and probably little else, a great deal of the time. “There now, that’s better. You’ll be wearing this to bed tonight.”

She continued to survey the man kneeling before her, his head bowed in humility. Even now it surprised her that the once self-absorbed man who had engaged her in frustrating power struggles, now eagerly supplicated himself before her. It had been over two years since they had first discussed adopting a FemDom lifestyle. As was typical in female-led relationships, it was his suggestion. Being open-minded, she agreed without much reservation, primarily because she had always felt a woman should be treated as a goddess. She reasoned that a lifestyle that promoted this thinking was bound to be a good thing. Still, the transition had been a challenging process. Fraught with several frustrating setbacks, it required genuine and sometimes uncomfortable honesty, with themselves and each other, and also a willingness to consider ideas that departed from traditional thinking. The truth was, despite her naturally bossy nature, and her husband’s eagerness to submit, only now was the Goddess beginning to feel entirely comfortable in her dominant role.

The Goddess toyed with the chrome-plated ring on her husband’s collar, making it clank against the D-ring that held it in place. Their journey into FemDom had not been without surprises, and this was one of them. Hardware: the Goddess discovered she liked the sound of hardware. Leather: she discovered she liked the aroma of leather in the bedroom. She also discovered that together, hardware and leather made her wet. “So,” she teased, “Do you still want to worship and serve me?”

Her question was more rhetorical, more of a ritual, than it was a real question. Since female authority had become the rule in their relationship, how they related to each other as man and woman had changed considerably. Their relationship and marriage had been transformed to the extent that both understood there would be no turning back to the vanilla lifestyle from which they came.

“Yes I do,” he replied, looking downward at the floor.

“Why?”

“Because you are the woman I love. And you deserve to be worshipped.”

“Why else?”

“Because I’m submissive and need to be dominated.”

“Why do you suppose that is?”

He paused for a moment, as if considering how to respond, but he knew the answer without thinking. It was the same answer he gave her every time she asked this question. “Because I’m a male. Because I like how it makes me feel.”

She reached out and lifted his chin so that she could look into his eyes. “Yes, I can see it in your eyes. You need it. You crave it, don’t you.”

“Yes, my Goddess.”

“Then you’re a lucky man I allow you to serve me. You’re lucky I give you what I know you need.”

“I surely am.” He cradled first one foot then the other, bowing to plant a kiss on each.

As he did so she added, “But you won’t always like what I give you.” Her words resounded in his head as both a threat and a promise: ‘you won’t always like what I give you.’ Words, they were merely words. Yet she was becoming adept at stringing them together to make them every bit as controlling as the links of the chain leash she sometimes attached to his collar.

“I know… but I trust you. Thank you.”

She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair. “So tell me, in what ways did you think of me today? I know it’s difficult for a male, but did you actually think of me with your brain… or just your cock?”

He smiled at her . “With my brain of course.”

“Really? Then it seems to me if you’d been using your brain, you’d have thought to sweep the kitchen floor today.” He had taken on many household chores she had assigned, even a few she hadn’t. And he was as good if not better than she was at most. Yet there were annoying times when it seemed he deliberately shirked his responsibilities. This frustrated her immensely. She closed her fingers, capturing a handful of hair and pulled. “Why should I have to waste my time talking to you about this?”

“You shouldn’t. So, maybe I wasn’t thinking with my brain.”

“No, maybe not. Submissive or not you’re still a man, and you all think with your cocks. She brought a foot up between his legs and flicked his penis with her toes. “This is what controls you. That’s why I must have complete control of it. When I control the cock, I control the man.” She tapped his balls with the top of her foot, just hard enough to make him wince slightly. “You agreed to give me control of your cock, didn’t you?”

“Yes I did, Goddess.”

“I think you must forget that at times. Maybe you need a daily reminder that this,” she punctuated her words with another tap to his balls, “does NOT belong to you. It belongs to ME.” Then she began to tease his cock with her foot. Within a minute or so he began to grow erect. She expected he would arch his pelvis forward, just slightly, in an effort to intensify the contact with her foot. When he did so, she met his advance and began to massage his growing erection with her foot. The Goddess was, in fact, a self-proclaimed foot-whore. In addition to enjoying having her feet worshipped, she adored how her husband took pleasure in anything that had to do with her feet and shoes. As she toyed with him, an idea came into her head. She decided it was time to use this to her advantage. “Looks like this poor little thing needs relief.”

“Well it has been three weeks.”

“I don’t need you to remind me how long its been,” she scolded. She ceased the motion of her foot but did not remove it from his crotch.

“No, of course you don’t. I only meant that because its been…”

“Oh please,” she interrupted, “you’d still want to cum even if it were only three days.” She resumed massaging and toying with her husband’s cock as she mused, “I don’t know, do you think you’ve earned the privilege? Should I let you jerk off?” Before he could answer she added, “Maybe I’ll think more about that while you get busy with your mouth.” She schooched her butt forward in her chair so that she was half reclining and spread her legs.

Happily, he buried his face between her thighs. Her pubic hair, still moist from her shower and smelling of scented soap, tickled his nose as he licked and kissed and nibbled. Mindful not to rush to her clit too quickly, he traced along her labia with the tip of his tongue. Eventually he parted her folds, probing tentatively, then sounded her depths with his tongue to lick her inner most recesses. “Damn, have you been taking lessons?” she teased. “You’ve gotten so much better at eating my pussy.” She draped one leg over the arm of her chair to give him deeper access. He helped to spread and support her legs as he serviced her. But knowing his Goddess as he did, he knew it would be only a matter of time before she moved to the bed. There she could recline and fully relax to let herself drift with the tides of approaching orgasm.

When she moved to the bed he retrieved a vibrator from the night table before joining her. He then placed a wedge-shaped pillow beneath her buttocks before crouching between her legs to continue. Tongue tantalized. Fingers coaxed G-spot. Vibrator titillated clit. The Goddess deliberately prolonged this exquisite torture until she could no longer hold back burgeoning energy of eminent finality. When the first wave crashed in on her, it knocked her nearly senseless. Then wave upon wave followed, threatening to pummel her to pieces and sweep them into the cosmos. Her thighs came together, vise-like and with such force they may well have imploded his ear drums had his head still been between them. A gutteral “Fffuuuuuuck” escaped her throat as her body recoiled with the intensity of her release.

He could scarcely contain a grin at her outcry. There were times when “Cheese and crackers” or “Geezo-wheezo” simply didn’t cut the mustard. This was certainly one of those times. Still, considering the situation, he found her use of the F-bomb to be a curious paradox: no manner of fucking he and his Goddess had ever engaged in had produced such an obviously powerful orgasm. What’s more, since assuming her dominant role in their marriage, there had been less intercourse, yet his Goddess now routinely experienced orgasms of startling intensity. They seemed to consume her to the extent that he sometimes thought she was in pain rather than ecstasy. Sobering as it was to male ego, this was undeniable proof that the penis played fourth-fiddle behind vibrator, tongue and fingers. Happily however, he did not allow himself to feel inadequate as a man. He chose instead to find satisfaction, a sense of pride even, in helping the woman he loved to achieve such lofty sexual highs, even though it didn’t require his cocksmanship.

His Goddess lay trembling in the aftermath of her orgasm. When he attempted to lay beside his her, to embrace her as he usually did, she pushed him away saying, “No. Go kneel beside the bed and wait.” Her request was unusual, but nonetheless, he complied without question. He knelt quietly for several minutes before his Goddess had recovered enough to roll over and sit on the edge of the bed in front of him. She quenched her dry mouth with a glass of water he had placed on the night table before saying, “Now then, still want to cum?”

“Yes, Goddess, if it pleases you.”

“Oh, indeed it will,” she replied with a wicked grin. “Play with your cock and get yourself off. I want you to cum on my feet.” Seeing a look of surprise on his face, she waited a moment before delivering the kicker, “And then I want you to lick them clean.”

Utter consternation swept across his face. “Ummm,” he stammered.

“Ummm?” I give you permission to cum and all you can say is ummm?”

“Well, it’s just that…”

“Just what?,” she interrupted. She reached out and slapped his face, not overly hard, but enough to ensure she commanded his full attention. “I didn’t hear ummm when I use to suck your cock. I didn’t hear ummm when I let you cum in my mouth. Did I?”

“No.”

“And I didn’t hear ummm when I swallowed. Did I. Well did I?”

“No.”

“I always meant to give to a big sloppy kiss and give it all right back to you. But I never did. Big mistake.”

“But…”

“But nothing. It was all fine and dandy with you to have woman who would do that for you. For YOU! Get it? I did it more for you, than for me.” He flinched when she leaned forward, expecting another slap in the face. Instead, seeing a look of guilt cloud over him, she took his face into her hands and spoke more quietly. “Hey, it’s okay. That was then and I wanted to please you. But this is now. And your job is to please your Goddess.”

She leaned back on her hands and brought her foot into his crotch. Almost involuntarily he looked down to watch as she began to wiggle her toes against his penis. “The choice is yours.” A knowing smile formed on her lips because she knew the outcome even before she posed the option. She understood how the male urge to cum was powerful incentive to agree to nearly anything. However she also knew the incentive lasted only to the moment of orgasm, after which all bets were suddenly off.

As she expected, he took himself in hand and began to masturbate. She watched and waited. Though she had already told him to cum, as he approached the edge of the abyss, he dutifully ask for permission to leap over it. This was always a moment of great anxiety for him, when teetering on the brink. It would take the slightest nudge to tip him over the edge, such that he could easily provide with the simple stroke of a hand. Yet he was without authority to do so. Sometimes she would allow him to provide that final stroke. Other times she would make him wait. Sometimes she would deny him altogether. And that would be the end of it. When he asked for her permission she replied, “Not yet. I want you to promise me you will lick up every drop.”

“Okay,” he said through clenched teeth, still looking at her feet.

“Not good enough. Look me in the eye and promise.” She met his gaze when he raised his head to look at her. “Say it.”

“I promise, Goddess.” And he was soon tumbling over the edge. Though caught in the throws of mind numbing orgasm, he remained diligent enough to control the direction of his ejaculation as best he could. He positioned and held his penis so that most of his semen fell on the pedicured feet of his Goddess.

“That’s it,” his Goddess encouraged, “let it go all over my sexy feet. Doesn’t that feel amazing? Like nothing else in the world, huh.”

When he was fully spent, he remained kneeling in front of his Goddess, looking down at her feet, at the mess he had left on them. She wiggled slightly the foot that had received the bulk of his load and said, “Now be a good boy and get busy licking. And be sure you get it all between my toes.”

He accepted her foot into his hand and slowly bowed his head to meet it. She could see by the reluctance in his movement that his enthusiasm had vanished. When he hesitated as his mouth neared her foot, she thought he might renege on his promise. For a moment, as she sometimes had in the past, she wondered if perhaps she was being too cruel and should let him off the hook. Then, before she could consider this further, she felt his tongue against her flesh. He began to lick, though slowly and with little conviction.

“Ooo, I like this,” she said. Even though this involved her feet and his orgasm, making it register somewhere between a treat and discipline in her husband’s mind, she realized that this was a nearly effortless way to push one of his submissive buttons. It took less energy than spanking or some of their other activities. Some creativity might help, just to make things interesting, but it required less planning too. “We’ll have to do this lots more,” she added. “Maybe next time I’ll have you eat your cum out of a pair of my panties. Dirty ones. Mmmm, won’t that be a yummy treat. I know how you love panties with my scent on them.”

He said nothing and continued to lick her feet, but now with increasing fervor. When he had finished, she said, “Now get a hot washcloth and wipe my feet. Wash your face and rinse your mouth too. Then I want to snuggle and kiss awhile.”

When he returned from the bathroom, he carefully wiped and dried her feet, then kissed each of her toes before joining her in bed. "I love you," he said as he slid in beside her.

"I love you too."

Wife and husband embraced and kissed tenderly before finally she said to him, “You do realize we took our relationship to a new level tonight.”

“You took us there.”

“No, I led and you followed.”

He knew this to be true in most areas of their marriage. “Yeah, I did.” Then after a pause he asked, “Does this mean you’re gonna have me do that all time now?”

She kissed him on the cheek and said, “Not always the same way, but yeah, I am.” Then with her lips close to his ear she added in a whisper, “Even when we fuck.”

“Oh.”

She raised up on one elbow so that she looked down at him as he lay next to her, “What’s the matter, are you ashamed?”

“Kinda.”

“Why? Because you ate cum or because you liked it?”

“I wouldn’t say I liked it.”

“Maybe not, but you wanted to do it. You just needed me to make it happen.”

He took a deep breath and exhaled long and slowly, knowing there was little sense in debating that this was essentially true. Now that she had made it a reality, he knew he would need to accept it was yet another paragraph written in the growing description of who he was as a man.

She patted her hand against his chest and said glibly, “Hey, it's no big deal. It’s not as if it makes you a cum slut.”

“A cum… oh that’s great. That’s just fuckin-A fantastic.”

She chuckled at that. “It IS when you think about it. You were in sub-space, big time. We both know that makes you happy… and a better husband. And that, my dear, is what makes ME happy.”

She kissed him on the lips. “Good night,” she said as she tugged playfully at his collar. “Hope this isn’t too uncomfortable to sleep in.”

“I suppose I’ll get use to it.”

She was not entirely sure to what her husband referred, wearing his collar to bed or tasting his semen. Either way she replied, “I know you will.” Then she rolled over, turned off the light and snuggled down beneath the covers. He did likewise. A few moments later she reached one hand behind her and pinched his ass. “See you in the AM… cum slut.”

The Goddess was pleased and not surprised to hear a sigh in the darkness that spoke of her knight’s contentment.

Fishing

Thanks to all who so eagerly left comments to my last post. Honest, Goddess V and I weren't fishing for compliments or encouragement. But it was nice to receive just the same. I only wanted to say that we hadn't lost interest in promoting wife-led marriage (or even in FemDom itself), simply that I had come to an impass composing something I felt worth saying. An idea or two has occured to me so it would seem the well is not yet dry.

Still Alive

Yes, we are still among the living even though we haven't posted to this blog in over a month. Truth is, I am wondering what more we can say here. And would it make an appreciable difference in advancing the cause of female-led relationships?

It appears that other blogs are stagnating as well. (Some have even been hijacked.) Happily there are two sites that churn along. Around Her Finger and Elise Sutton, which, in my opinion are the best out there as far as informational purposes go. AHF is easily the site more likely to pique the interest of a woman who is new to this way of thinking.