“Want to play a game?” Harris suggested after dinner.

“What sort of game?” I asked, thinking maybe he meant cards or possibly that he’d like to challenge me to a word game. Did I have a set of dominoes kicking around in a drawer? We’d never played a game together, my mind cried out next. Maybe he was growing tired of our conversations. Perhaps we had approached the level in relationships that happens to some of the best of couples, a point in which we had to look to other activities in order to entertain ourselves. I felt a tiny bit let down, actually, as I stood to pull out the drawer.

Harris was, of course, unaware of these fast — moving thoughts speeding through my brain. The look on his face was serious. His eyes seemed to almost gleam in the candlelight.

“What if you take charge and I obey?” he asked evenly. Watching me carefully, he leaned back in his chair, hands crossed behind his head, and he waited for my response. Suddenly, I felt as if my legs might give out. I stared back at him, totally shocked. This was Harris, after all. My handsome, supportive boyfriend. The one who liked to help me cook dinner, who always cleared the table, who had no problem shouldering half of the cleaning chores. Actually, maybe the idea made sense. But what exactly did he mean by “taking charge"? And was he serious about obeying? I was quiet for a minute, letting the concept fully sink in. He wasn’t talking about cards. He was talking about…

“There would be rules,” he said, still speaking in that calm, even tone. “And consequences.”

I sat down again, but this time, I was almost perched on the edge my seat. I had an idea about what he was suggesting. I wondered if my inkling equaled his. “Consequences,” I echoed.

“If I behaved the way you asked, I’d be rewarded.”

“Rewarded,” I repeated, and I realized I’d have to stop doing that, saying the words he was saying. But I wanted to make sure I understood. “Rewarded how?” I asked.

“You would decide. Maybe you’d let me eat your pussy. Maybe you’d suck my cock. Maybe you’d put a butt plug up my ass.”

“That would be a reward?”

“I’d never pictured that I would be commanding my man to do me doggy — style.”

His cheeks flushed pink. I wondered if he was as hot as I was. This conversation, although totally unexpected, was ramping up my arousal quite a bit.

“Yeah,” he said, and he had to clear his throat. “Yeah, that would be a reward. I’d like that.”

I imagined lubing up one of our butt plugs and inserting it into his ass. I realized I’d like that, too. We were both silent for a moment, and then I pushed the conversation forward. “And if you don’t obey?” I asked because I had to know. I didn’t realize at first, but I’d changed his “what if” proposal into something that sounded very real. “What will happen then?”

“Then I’ll be punished.” So fucking matter — of — fact. That’s what he was. Harris was acting as if we were discussing something simple and obvious. The train schedule. The annual rainfall. The latest score for his favorite football team.

Why was his suggestion making my panties so wet? I felt heat flare to my cheeks, and I said, “Okay, that sounds fine.” Harris wanted to submit to me, but what sort of domme would I be? I’d never been in charge in the bedroom before, not with Harris, not with anyone. Yet now that he’d put the idea into my head, my mind was filled with concepts.

“I’ll need a safeword,” he said, and his voice had a lovely hushed quality that made me want to kiss him hard, to bite his lip, to smack his ass.

I’d heard of safewords before, and I agreed immediately.

“What do you want yours to be?” I asked.

He answered immediately, letting me know he’d already worked this out in his head, that he’d put some thought into the matter. “Profound,” he said, and I realized he wasn’t describing the situation, but that he was giving me his chosen word.

There was electricity in the air; it was humming between us. We were actually going to do this. He was right. It was profound.

I said, “Wait a moment,” and I hurried to the bedroom.

No cards for us. No word games. I took off my clothes and put on a black catsuit I’d worn one Halloween along with my tallest black boots. I’d been a cat for an office party, but now the outfit seemed perfect for what Harris and I were about to do. My pussy was wetter than I could remember it ever being, but he didn’t need to know that. Not yet.

I called out for him. When I heard him walking down the hall, I issued a second command. “Crawl!” There was silence. Then I heard the sound of my boyfriend dropping to his hands and knees. I smiled to myself. By the time he entered the room, I’d have my face in a mask of seriousness, but right this second, I was grinning.

He entered the bedroom on his hands and knees.

“Stand and strip,” I said, “and hand me your belt.”

He seemed so different than he had minutes before when he’d proposed the situation. Now, he was nervous, I could see that in the way he moved. He handed me his belt, as I’d asked, and he jumped when I made the leather snap.

“If you’re a good boy,” I told him, “you won’t feel this on your ass.”

Maybe that was a lie. Because as he took off his boxers, I saw his nice, tight buns, and I had an urge to stripe them. Where was the power coming from? I had no idea, yet I could feel the burst of it coursing through every part of me. Had there always been some section of my brain that wondered what taking charge would feel like? Some dormant dominance that now was flooding my veins with an unexpected rush of pure adrenaline?

I got closer to Harris, and I trailed one fingernail along the side of his neck, then leaned in and gave him a small nibble. He trembled. I liked that. I moved away from him and then looked him up and down, formulating a plan.

“So the game,” I said slowly, “is for you to do what I say.”

“I was generous this time. I gave him permission to climax inside me.”

He looked at me.

“Kneel.”

Down he went.

“Crawl.”

He hesitated. Then he crawled toward me cautiously.

“Lick my boots.”

There was another hesitation. We could not have that. I let the belt land against his ass one time. He flinched, but he didn’t tell me no, didn’t use his safeword, didn’t do anything except begin to lick my boots, exactly as I’d told him.

I could get used to this, I thought to myself. Then I said the words out loud. Harris gazed up at me with wide, wet eyes. Next, I had him lick my legs up to my split. I was wearing the stretchy catsuit, so I could not feel his tongue against my flesh, but I appreciated the effort nonetheless.

Finally, I could wait no longer. I was going to have him fuck me, but fuck me exactly how I desired. Fuck me like the dominant queen I’d suddenly turned out to be. Who knew? I’d certainly never pictured that I would be commanding my man to do me doggy — style, to wrap his hand in my hair, to strum my clit with two fingers while he speared me with his dick.

Yet, that’s how our evening progressed, with Harris first undressing me and then fucking me to my exact specifications. And when he slowed down, I barked, “Faster! Or you’ll feel my wrath!”

My wrath? My wrath! I hadn’t even realized I was going to say the word before it fell from my lips.

Harris slowed down again, and I realized that he was testing me. There could be no other explanation. Well, I couldn’t allow that. I moved forward, so that his dick slid out of me, and I reached for the lube and plug. “Bend over,” I hissed, and he found himself across the mattress, waiting while I slickened a plug and lubed him up and then screwed that toy deep inside him.

“Now, we’ll try that again,” I told him. “You keep the pace I set, and you keep that plug in your ass the whole time, or you’ll be sorry.”

He said, “Yes, Ma’am,” and we started up once more. To my delight, he did exactly as I asked him to, making sure I hit my mark and got off before he dared to ask if he might reach his own release. I was generous this time. I gave him permission to climax inside me, and I could tell from the way he pumped and filled me that I had allowed him relief not a moment too soon.

We took our time disconnecting before coming together on the bed in a more traditional way: his arms around me and our lips together.

“What’d you think?” he asked, and I saw the hopefulness in his eyes. He wanted me to have enjoyed myself.

I kissed him softly, then more forcefully. I thought of how worried I’d been when he’d suggested a game at the start of the evening. Things had taken a seriously new turn in our world. But this was going to be a way we’d play often in the future. There was no doubt in my mind.

“I think we should try that again,” I said in a low voice. “And this time, we’ll keep score.”

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