The night I came home and found Katja’s laptop open, I knew I was in trouble. Its screen displayed an ad for something called “classic armbinders.” The picture showed a set of long, black leather sleeves ending in what looked like fingerless gloves, which were equipped with multiple laces. I immediately grasped that they could be used to bind someone’s arms behind their back in the firmest, most inescapable way imaginable.

When Katja re-entered the room and saw me scanning her laptop with a worried expression, she said in a chipper voice, “Hello, honeybear. Why do you look so worried?”

See, that’s Katja. She doesn’t glare and growl, like most dominants. Even though she looks rather forbidding — six feet tall in her bare feet, with a powerful, statuesque build — she’s the sweetest woman imaginable. But when she starts ladling on the charm, I know I’m really in for it.

“I was just wondering … why were you looking at these?” I asked, indicating the image on her laptop. Since we weren’t playing at the moment, I was free to speak to her directly.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Katja said, running her fingers over my shoulders. I was only wearing a pair of shorts, and she knew a light caress from her on my bare skin was guaranteed to make me melt. “That’s not something good boys need to worry about. And you are a good boy, yes?”

Her voice had grown suddenly pointed — and I knew exactly what she was talking about. The week before, I had been guilty of a slight infraction. We had gone to bed early. I was feeling playful, but Katja had put in a hard day and fell asleep before I could press matters. To make a long story short, she woke up to find me fondling myself.

I think she found it exciting to see me lying beside her, stroking my hard dick as I gazed at her. In fact, I could tell she did — she was smiling broadly and licking her lips. But she said nothing, just got up and went to the bathroom. Blushing, I rolled over and focused on falling asleep. We said no more about it that night, but I guessed the incident would resurface eventually. Apparently, I was right.

Days later, I came home to find the armbinders on our bed. As I stared at them with a mixture of apprehension and excitement, Katja appeared in the doorway. Though she is always the dominant, she likes to play naked, and she’s an amazing sight in just her bare skin. I wanted to go on my knees to her right then — and maybe plead for mercy. I knew that night’s session was going to be especially grueling.

“Put them on,” she said softly, padding across the bedroom floor toward me. I felt like a rabbit being stalked by a very polite lioness. “Here, let me help you.”

Soon I was laced up properly, both arms imprisoned behind my back. The feeling of helplessness was almost overwhelming; as soon as Katja finished tying me, I felt numerous tiny itches spring up on my skin, itches I was now helpless to scratch. It had another effect on me as well, one much more visible to my wicked wife.

“Now look at this,” Katja said with a laugh as she reached for my dick. It was fully erect, its length nestled against my belly. She passed her hand over my shaft, her fingers barely touching my skin. I started at the ticklish sensation, involuntarily gasping and stepping away.

“Oh, what is this?” Katja exclaimed. “I thought you liked me playing with your little friend!” With that she took hold of my dick, squeezing it firmly and tugging it. Her actions didn’t exactly hurt, but her hold was too strong to be completely pleasurable.

“I could just lead you around like this. Couldn’t I, darling? All around the world!” She proceeded to do exactly that, pulling my cock as she made a strutting circuit of the room, like a lady walking her poodle at a dog show.

“You see?” she said, turning and grinning at me over her shoulder. “Now you can’t do anything naughty.” She was right; I couldn’t — but my cock did get massively hard. My erection was so stiff it ached. My balls ached as well, signaling to me that I was carrying a formidable load. After all, I hadn’t come in a couple of days.

“Oh! Now what’s this?” Katja demanded as she touched the sticky fluid gathering at the tip of my cock. “Is someone getting ready to squirt their honey? You’d better not! I expect my pets to exhibit more self-control. Just because your mistress does this” — she slid her chilly fingers beneath my sac and diddled my nuts — “that doesn’t mean you get to empty your balls all over her pretty hand!”

I rose up on my toes, biting my lip. Her fingers moved down toward the sensitive ridge of flesh between my scrotum and asshole. I wanted badly to give in to the tantalizing sensations and thrust my hips until I experienced a wet burst of relief, but I didn’t dare. The very last thing I needed was to displease my mistress.

It’s hard to explain how I feel about being dominated by my wife. On the one hand I find it exquisitely humiliating, so much so that I find myself almost shying away from her during play. On the other, I find it a literally irresistible pleasure. Even if I could somehow escape her, I know I would run back to her side the next minute for more luscious torment. Then, come the next morning, we would wake up side by side and go out for breakfast like any other couple.

“Come, I want to relax,” she told me.

Still holding tightly onto my cock, she led me over to the couch, where she sat, tugging at my meat until I sank down to my knees beside her.

Katja amused herself for a time by flipping through one of her books. It took me a minute to realize it was a book of erotic stories — one of many in my wife’s sizable collection. Exactly what the story was about, I couldn’t tell, but it must have been pretty hot. Soon Katja began lightly touching her breasts, teasing her nipples until they stiffened. Then she reached between her legs and played with her pussy.

It always excites me to see my wife pleasing herself. I longed to put my arms around her and kiss her, drawing her close to me for a bout of lovemaking. But even if my arms weren’t imprisoned as they were, I wouldn’t have dared to do that — not while we were playing. At that moment, Katja was queen of my world.

Soon the teasing my wife gave me became almost unbearable. As she continued to finger her clit, I saw her legs stiffen, her toes clenching as she brought herself closer to climax. By now remaining still was all but impossible, but somehow I managed it. Eventually, she gave a sharp little gasp and a shudder went through her entire gorgeous body as her orgasm took her.

“So good,” she sighed, running her hands over her own thighs. “Don’t you wish you could jerk yourself off right now? But you can’t. You have to hold your honey. Here, stand up.”

I got up slowly. Kneeling in one position for so long had made my legs stiff. Katja took my dick between her thumb and forefinger, turning it gently this way and that, inspecting it from its thick root to its seeping head.

“Nice and fat,” she said approvingly.

She took a tube of lubricant from a nearby end table and squeezed a healthy dollop onto her fingers. A moment later the cold, slick gel was being massaged into my cock and balls. Katja’s fingers knew exactly how I liked to be played with — quick, firm strokes of my shaft alternated with teasing caresses of my sac.

“You control yourself,” she admonished before lifting one gleaming hand and motioning for me to step closer. Then she brought her mouth to my chest, kissing and biting my nipples. They’re some of my most sensitive spots; I’ve always been a little embarrassed by how powerfully I respond to attention to my nips. In short order, Katja’s mouth had me weak in the knees, shaking all over as I suppressed the urge to thrust my hips.

And then — she stopped. Just like that!

“Back on your knees,” she said coolly, wiping her hands on a tissue from a box on the table.

“Did I … displease you, Mistress?” I stammered apologetically. I wanted badly to plead with her, to beg her to go back to playing with me. But slaves don’t plead for their mistress’s favors — at least, Katja’s slaves don’t.

“Not as such,” Katja told me. “But I could tell you were coming close to losing control, so I couldn’t go on. It is something of a disappointment. You couldn’t pass a simple test of denial.”

I begged Katja to let me prove myself to her. I begged for a long while, and when she finally agreed to give me a final chance, I was delighted — only to realize at the last minute I had walked into a trap!

She had me lie on the bed facedown with my legs spread. My heart sank as I assumed the position with my hard cock pressed against the smooth silk of our bedspread. I heard the sound of lube being wetly dispensed behind me, and then Katja’s fingers were kneading my ass cheeks, massaging and then slowly parting them.

I could tell she was wearing latex, and I knew why. Suddenly her long, strong fingers were penetrating me, entering a part of my body that’s distinctly unused to such attention. I’m not really squeamish about anal — the truth is, I love it. But it’s even more embarrassing than nipple-play, which of course is part of the reason Katja, and me, enjoy it.

“Don’t come,” Katja ordered, her voice cool and stern as she unabashedly worked my sphincter. “Whatever you do, I expect you to remain in control.”

I nodded miserably. But how could I possibly maintain control when I was being driven out of my mind with the naughtiest of pleasures?

Another problem was that Katja, while she continued her relentless digital exploration of my ass, was guiding her digits in an in-and-out motion. This rocked my body and caused by cock to rub maddeningly against the bedding. I was a mess of frazzled sexual energy, hungry for release. Sure enough, before I knew it, I well and truly lost control. All it took was one good thrust for me to make a royal mess of the bedspread. I let my weight rest against the mattress, breathing hard in a surfeit of pleasure and shame.

“Oh, what a naughty honeybear!” Katja cried out. I could sense her smile as the fingernails of her free hand dug into my ass cheek. “I hope you’re ready for a long evening, mister! I have things planned for you that shouldn’t happen to a dog!”

She was as good as her word, too. And I loved every minute of it!