On our honeymoon I introduced my husband to the pleasures of sexual submission. I brought him along slowly, subtly, molding him according to my vision of the ideal husband. His journey, and my quest, began on the third night of our marriage two years ago in Acapulco, when I persuaded him to let me tie his cock and balls. What followed was an incredibly satisfying and prolonged session of intense lovemaking. It left my groom passion-spent and sated, and me with a whetted appetite for a blissful future of pure satisfaction.

From that initial session of assertiveness with my new husband, I have led Gerald down a sexual path that has kept our two-year marriage sensually honed and gloriously fulfilling. Our overall relationship has prospered as well, and Gerald freely admits that the discipline I’ve instilled in our bedroom has carried over into his professional life too.

We first met when Gerald came to the bank where I work to apply for a personal loan. At the time I was a divorced, thirty-three-year-old bank officer assigned to qualify personal consumer loans under $25,000. I was attracted to the overtly masculine, twenty-five-year-old junior executive immediately, but appalled by the disarray and mismanagement of his financial affairs. Here was a handsome. well-educated, professional young man destined to fail and make a shambles of an otherwise promising future because of immature spending habits.

Admittedly. I was charmed by Gerald’s relaxed banter. and I let him talk me into several dinner and luncheon dates. And it wasn’t wholly professional concern that kept me seeing him socially. He was an accomplished mixer, not at all intimidated by the prospect of dating an older woman. He was a witty. stimulating conversationalist, and though initially I knew he was wining and dining me to campaign for his loan. I also realized when that motivation began turning into something more serious.

Six weeks into our courtship. he took me to meet his parents. Gerald’s father instantly approved of my levelheaded business knowledge. Gerald’s mother wasn’t as thrilled with the prospect of her son marrying a divorced older woman who, she sensed, was a bit bossy. Still, she figured I was no worse than the bevy of husband-hunting, bleached-blonde secretaries and flight attendants Gerald had apparently brought home to the folks.

Following one of many family dinners, Gerald’s father maneuvered me into his study — presumably, to continue our dinner table discussion of interest rates, T-bills and the bond market. With Gerald and his mother going on ahead to the backyard tennis court for an evening game. my future father-in-law bluntly told me to consider marrying his son.

You, my dear, are precisely what the boy needs,” he said, offering me a scotch. “He needs a woman with business brains who is strong enough to make him toe the mark.” His eyes sparkled as he appraised me. “That you are lovely and vivacious just gives Gerald a nice bonus. I almost envy the boy.”

“Thanks for your confidence, sir,” I said. “Gerald has remarkable potential. It shouldn’t be squandered.”

“Exactly, my dear. He’ll need some bun-kicking to straighten him out, but I trust you can handle that. Am I right. young lady?”

I smiled. “Very perceptive, sir.” From that crystalizing moment, Gerald was destined to be my devoted husband.

Returning from our honeymoon, I took away his credit cards. sold his BMW and put Gerald on a strict allowance. I arranged for his paychecks to be deposited directly, and I took control of all the financial aspects of our marriage. I let his country club membership lapse and limited him to a weekly afternoon of tennis on a public court.

Predictably, there were numerous times that Gerald rebelled. On these occasions. I used sex. the perfect lure, to bring him back into line. It wasn’t difficult. From our first date I had made it my job to keep him hopelessly enthralled. And, in fact, he has declared nothing but undying love and desire for me since the third night of our honeymoon. Usually it was only a couple of nights before he came around to the reality of our relationship.

At first, as on that wanton night, it was my whispered proposal of a kinky adventure that enticed Gerald’s cooperation. Soon, I knew, he would want no choice in the matter, and I would have a husband happy to accept my dominant sexual urges.

A month after our honeymoon, on a steamy August Sunday afternoon, Gerald and I had finished making love, but I was still feeling naughty. I left Gerald napping on our bed and went to my special locked dresser drawer. I gathered a few toys and returned to my dozing husband.

He came awake just as I wrapped the leather cock band around the base of his penis and under his bulging balls. I reassured him, whispering that I hoped he’d indulge me in one of my little games. Then I strapped his wrists and ankles to the bed frame.

My pussy fluttered and dampened when I gazed down at him. He looked so helpless and naked, and he was all mine to do as I wanted with. At last I had a man to use for my pleasure who loved me. needed me.

“Trust me.” I whispered as I bent to kiss his lips. “You’ll love this.” I couldn’t control the trembling of my pussy. My nipples became hard, and my breathing quickened. matching my racing heartbeat. My plump nipples were hard and itchy.

I rested on my haunches between his spread legs and ran my fingernails over his bloated, confined balls. I scratched lightly at first and gazed at his face, watching while his smile of pleasure became a grimace of pure glee as I gradually intensified my manipulations.

When I began pulling on his cock, we both gasped as it surged at my rough treatment. I tightened the cock band, insuring that he’d stay hard and tall for me.

I played with my husband’s cock and balls for several minutes. making him groan more than once. But the peak of our arousal came when I went to my secret drawer and returned with a small leather cock whip and a pair of nipple clamps.

His squeals reverberated in my thoughts for days afterward as I recalled his reaction to the way I whipped his ever-hard. jerking dick and balls. Our excitement scaled new heights. escalating by the second, as we each neared a nerve-jarring climax.

Finally I dropped the tiny whip and climbed over his face. I pressed my soaked pussy to his mouth and ordered him to eat me. I rocked and humped on his handsome face until he dutifully drove me to three orgasms.

I then dragged myself down over his heaving chest and belly. torturing us both by delaying the explosive sensation of my salty, wet vagina abruptly sheathing his tender cock. Finally I impaled myself heavily on his male meat, and as he thrashed beneath me, I threw my head back and sighed with pleasure. His thick penis filled me. and the throbbing intensity of his erection spurred us both to wild, bucking and bouncing orgasms.

When his sperm finally blasted into my pussy, I continued bouncing up and down on his cock. The overwhelming power rushing through me made my next orgasm an incredible implosion that rocked me to the core.

At last I collapsed on him, gasping and stroking his face. I murmured and sighed, relishing the exquisite satisfaction in his eyes.

“You’ve made me so happy, darling,” I purred, smiling, as I gently cupped his face in my hands. “You’ve proven your love for me today, and I won’t forget it. I love you so much for it.”

I moved gingerly off him and released him from bondage. My sweet smile was the true reflection of my fulfillment, and I kept praising his bravery in enduring the session I’d just put him through. I peppered his face and neck with light kisses while brushing the damp ringlets of hair off his perspiring forehead and murmuring tender endearments.

“Eleanor, I’ve never been so turned on in my life!” he blurted. Then his boyish grin faltered slightly as he admitted, “It got pretty wild when I realized I really couldn’t pull my arms and legs free.”

I chuckled throatily and mussed his hair. “I like it when you’re a little frightened, Gerald. It turns me on.”

He wrapped his arms around me. “I love you,” he gasped, kissing me wildly.

In addition to the sharing and enjoyment of traditional intimacy and sex, there is always a distinct excitement in our daily lives. Even when I welcome Gerald’s manhood to satisfy the gentle, feminine part of me, to pamper my more standard womanly needs with flowers and candlelight dinners, there is a brittle tension, like an electrical current, in the air between us.

Sometimes mere days separate my irrepressible urges to render my husband groaning and hard under my shackles. Sometimes weeks pass. And, best of all, occasionally it is Gerald who shyly requests a bondage session.

Amazingly, Gerald has recently begun to detect when I’m hungry for a session. During the first year of our marriage, I’d sometimes phone him at work to let him know. We even developed a secret code for the times I’d have to leave a message with his unsuspecting secretary.

Bridge night — tell him this is my bridge night, Peggy,” I’d say to her. Sometimes a frustrating day at the bank would trigger my need to be naughty and demanding. Other times my dominant streak would surface seemingly from nowhere. We could be. enjoying a serene Sunday stroll in the park, and the urge to dominate him would overwhelm me. And, of course, there were those special times when I’d sense that Gerald craved the erotic spark of our kinky games.

On the occasion of our second wedding anniversary, it was Gerald who, during the first toast with the after-dinner champagne, leaned over the table in the exclusive restaurant, his blue eyes ablaze with desire, and whispered his love for me and his urgent need for a special session to mark our marital milestone. His hushed, rasping plea unleashed my dominant urges, and my excitement soared. We couldn’t wait to get home.

He waited, naked, on the edge of our bed until I entered the darkened room. I was fresh from my bath, the floral scent of my perfumed soap providing a lingering, subtle aroma. I slowly approached him in my spike-heeled, white satin slippers and a lace-trimmed white silk nightie that stopped at mid-thigh. I stood a few feet in front of him, letting him devour my image, watching his eyes record my unfurled dark hair touching my bare shoulders, my naked breasts spilling over the plunging, lacy border of my nightie and the dark triangle peeking through the flimsy silk between my legs.

“Stand up, Gerald,” I whispered. “And keep your hands clasped behind your back. ”

He rose obediently, and his penis surged, jutting and throbbing.

“Do you love me, Gerald?” I purred. “Oh, yes, Eleanor! I love you!” he gasped.

I moved closer and ran my fingers through his hair. He trembled, and his pulsing cock grazed my nightie. I lowered my hands to his nipples and pinched them. He groaned passionately.

’You belong to me.” I said. Lower than a whisper.

He nodded eagerly and his mouth opened. but he didn’t speak. His eyes were on my breasts.

“Move to the center of the room, darling.” I whispered. “You know where.” And he did know — under the hook he’d installed in the ceiling the previous weekend.

When he was positioned, I left him to go and get the pair of nice, shiny leather-and-chrome shackles I had recently bought for just this occasion. I returned to my husband with these items and the chair from my vanity table. I stood on the chair directly in front of him and clipped the leather shackle chain to the ceiling hook. My pussy was level with his face, and I cautioned him only once about keeping his hands clasped behind him.

“Lift your hands.” I breathed. “Not too high. Just above your head.”

I locked the shackles around his wrists. securing him to the dangling leather chain. I stepped down and moved the chair aside. then slowly circled my shackled husband. admiring my handiwork and feeling my own pulsating arousal coursing through me.

I moved against him so that his jutting penis touched the hem of my nightie. I rubbed my hands over his breasts and chest and thrilled to the shudders that instantly jarred his bound, naked body. I reached down slowly with my right hand and let my fingers skirt his penis. I then fell beneath his balls and pinched the loose skin of his scrotum. Gradually I intensified the pressure until my finger nails bit into his flesh and he had to gasp.

Kiss me, darling,” I purred, bringing my mouth to his. His tongue plowed into my mouth as he suddenly swayed on his feet. We both moaned as our passion sizzled, and our hungry kiss sealed us as if we wanted to swallow each other.

I edged to his side, avoiding his frantic humping. The mindless thrusting of his cock at me. Seconds later I pulled my mouth off of his and ducked down to suck his left breast. I bit at the nipple while gathering his balls in my right hand.

“Oh, God!” he gasped as his body went rigid. “I can’t hold back!”

“Don’t come!” I hissed, letting my fingers close around the shaft of his penis. “Hold it back. Gerald!”

He closed his eyes tight and gritted his teeth. His body trembled as I began stroking his dick slowly. Then, as he struggled to keep from coming, I released my hold on his cock and danced away.

“You love it, don’t you, darling?” I said with a low laugh. “You love the sweet torture.”

“Yes! Oh, yes!” he gasped, jerking against the shackles and the leather chain.

I moved toward him again, smiling sweetly as I reached up and cupped his face in my hands. I pressed myself against him as we kissed hungrily. I wrapped my legs around his and planted my wet, pulsing pussy on the head of his penis. I reached around Gerald’s waist and squeezed his ass as I guided his cock inside me.

I clung to my shackled husband. and we fucked fervently. Our bodies slammed together as he rocked to and fro on his leather chain swing, and I savored the incredible sensations of the penetration I was controlling.

My pussy convulsed, the mighty spasms bringing Gerald to his own explosive orgasm. He bellowed his pleasure as his come gushed into me. and I threw my head back and emitted a throaty wail that matched the ecstasy churning in the pit of my pussy.

Eventually he slumped under the chair, and I slowly unwrapped myself from him and backed away. My legs were rubbery and my arms heavy as I sprawled across the bed. Sweet tremors continued to course through my vagina. My nightie had been driven up around my waist and was almost as disarrayed as my hair. I luxuriated on the bed for a few seconds, recuperating, savoring what would follow.

I pushed myself up and looked at Gerald. A smile spread across my face as r saw his cock twitch into fresh life. Our eyes met when I strolled toward him. I touched his penis, and it leaped inside my fingers.

“You want more, darling?” I teased.

“You know I can’t get enough of you” he said huskily

“I know,” I whispered, reaching up with my free hand to unshackle him.

Much later, after giving him a whipping with our favorite leather strap. I cradled him and soothingly massaged the warm welts on his bun as my vagina gloved his sated penis. I beamed, listening to his sleepy murmurs of love and devotion. And sometime before dawn, I drifted into sleep, dreaming of all the anniversaries to come and all the wonderfully wanton days and nights in between.