Chapter 1: Inhibitions

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, MaleDom, Spanking, Light Bond, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Water Sports, .

Desc: BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1: Inhibitions - When Charlene Hopkins tries to overcome her panic attacks during oral sex by pretending to be her husband's slave, the solution soon becomes an obsession as they face the dark fantasies in their souls. As they begin to explore the world of kinky sex, it is truly a case of the blind leading the blind. Will they stumble off a cliff of danger and heartbreak, or will their love grow even stronger as they become increasingly willing to go where their marriage has never gone before?



George Hopkins knew something was up as soon as he opened the door to step into the house. He could smell the faint aroma of incense, cinnamon if he was not mistaken. Charlene had something planned, something he was sure he would enjoy. He set his briefcase down next to the door and hung his jacket up before crossing the threshold of the entrance to the house into the living room. Charlene was there, utterly beautiful in her dress. It was maroon, highlighting her olive skin, the gentle cleavage showing just enough breast to hint at things to come. Her black hair cascaded down her back, reaching below her shoulders. The two inch black heels lifted her up, thrusting her chest forward just enough to draw attention to her charms.

He gave a wolf whistle. "Honey, you look fabulous. Did I forget a special occasion, or are you just being the woman I fell in love with?"

"I'm hoping it will be both, but mainly, I love you and wanted a romantic night with wild passionate sex afterwards, if you don't have anything better to do."

"If I had anything else, it just got cancelled," he replied, walking forward and embracing her warmly. "It's your evening, where do we start?"

"I made chicken a la king, with brussel sprouts and potatoes. Then maybe a hot movie followed by a thing or two that might come to our minds. Does that work for you?"

"With you, a can of generic chili would be romantic. I love what you've done. Let's eat."

During dinner, they talked about their days, catching up on the twelve hours they had been separated since he had left the house. The presence of candles and the romantic mood did not stop that ritual from occurring. Both George and Charlene believed that this time of sharing was one of the most important things they did each day. After seven years of listening to the other share their day, each weekday, they had truly become interested in what was being shared.

George spent his days working as a contractor. He owned his own firm and had, at any one time, half a dozen projects going on, requiring him to travel all over the city, checking on progress and putting out the minor fires that threatened construction projects on a routine basis. When he wasn't on a job site, he was in his office, doing the leg work to get the next job that would pay the bills for the months in the future. If his father had not taught him to leave work at work, he could easily have become a stereotypical workaholic.

To say that Charlene did not work would be highly inaccurate. It's true that she did not work for a paycheck, but she was not a 'sit at home and watch the soaps' kind of woman (though The Young and the Restless got recorded when she had to be out). She volunteered at the crisis pregnancy center run by her church three days a week and was available at the local elementary school to help teachers with student reading. George loved the days when she was at the school. Listening to her enthusiasm as she described the childrens' reading skills improving was almost breathtaking.

The movie Charlene had picked out was hot. Like most adult movies it was short on plot and long on sex. In this case, the actors were all at least capable of acting, making those strings of plot that connected the sex bearable. They also had everything they needed to make the sex scenes great. George felt particularly lucky that Charlene enjoyed pornos. This one started with an incredible oral scene, with the stacked blond actress lavishing near adoration on the cock that her mouth was loving. The director had done the entire blowjob in a single take with no camera switches. What made this incredible was that the scene lasted a good 15 minutes, with the man's orgasm delayed at least three times by her well practiced technique. When he did cum, she took an incredible amount in her mouth, while still more spattered her face and tits. In a scene he found just fucking hot, she turned to the camera and opened her mouth, letting the camera zoom in as she actually swallowed open mouthed for the audience to see.

While watching, becoming hard, George could feel Charlene looking on, breathing shallow and fast. He realized what the special occasion was, or at least what she hoped to make it. He hugged her tight, running his hand down her far side, tickling the spot just above her hip that she liked so much, whispering, "I love you, no matter what."

She answered, trembling, "I really want to. I think I'm ready."

"No rush, no pressure. If you can, you can. If not, then that's okay too."

She reached over and felt him through his pants. He was hard, throbbing slightly. Her breath caught in her throat, her stomach churning, a feeling that had nothing to do with dinner. She slid off the couch and knelt before him. She rubbed her hands along his legs, moving closer to his erection with each stroke. Her eyes were brimming with tears as the reaction she was used to, and hated, began. She closed her eyes, breathing deep, trying to calm herself.

George could see her struggling and was tempted to stop her and let her know how much this wasn't necessary. He knew, however, that it was for her. They had talked about it for years, off and on, and Charlene wanted desperately to give him this. A part of her felt incomplete each time she failed. For her, he would let her try as often as she wanted. It tore him up inside, however, to see her fail and what the failure did to her.

With her eyes still closed, she undid the belt and button of his pants, pulling them down around his feet. She felt her way back up, revisiting the caresses on his legs, this time without pants. This part she had down. His cock was more than erect, hard as a rock and dripping precum from the tip. His own breath was coming faster as the excitement between his legs grew. The tightening of his penis seemed to draw all the nerves of his body down to it, making every touch on his body like little bursts of pleasure that resulted in a twitch in his cock.

Charlene's hands reached him, thrilling her with the feel of him. One hand cupped his balls while the other one made feather light strokes along the shaft. A drop of precum dripped onto her thumb and she brought it up to her mouth, licking it off. The taste, while not anything to write home about, was not unpleasant. Taste had never been her problem. She could hear her husband groaning with pleasure. She bent forward, the big moment approaching. Guiding her unseeing head (eyes still squeezed shut) with her hands, she opened her mouth and, sticking her tongue out, licked the head of George's cock.

Her stomach clenched and her mind reeled. She groaned, her breath became frantic and panic rose up in her, threatening to tear her apart. Forcing herself, she licked at it again, feeling him jerk in happiness. But it was too much. Crying, "Oh God!" she let go, running into the bathroom. Her sobs could be heard through the closed door.

"Oh, Charlene, I'm so sorry," George whispered to himself. He stood, putting his pants back on and walked to join the love of his life in her heartbreak. He pushed the door open and walked over to her. He lifted her up and embraced her, resting Charlene's head on his shoulder. "It's okay honey. You just weren't ready tonight. I love you so much. It's so wonderful you keep trying."

Through her tears she expressed her frustration with herself, her fears. "I don't understand why it's so hard. It's such a simple thing and I can't do it. I feel like I'm smothering as soon as any part of my mouth touches it. What is wrong with me? Sometimes I wish you'd just make me do it, force yourself into my mouth. Then it would be done and maybe I could..."

"Charlene, I could never force you to do anything against your will. It would be like raping you. I love you too much to even consider such a thing. There's no rush, we have the rest of our lives to work this out. And if it never happens, I still love you and want to be with you of the rest of my life."

"I know. It's not you. You've been so good about this. Ever since the first time you asked and I couldn't, you never asked again. That means so much to me. I just want to give you all of me, just like you give me all of you. I'll find a way, I promise."

"That's good enough for me. I'll do anything I need to make it easier. You know, we could see about visiting a sex therapist."

"I am not going to tell a complete stranger that I can't give head because I panic every time I try." She noticed that he was still erect, very erect. Her own desires had vanished in the panic. "Come on, I don't feel anything anymore, but I want to help you with that little, or not so little problem there." She felt his cock through his pants again, playfully squeezing it.

"Careful. You might make a mess in there."

"Oh, I intend to make a mess, just not there."

She dragged him back to the couch, pushing him gently back to the seat. Then she started dancing, swaying her hips and pouting her lips at him. Her shoes were the first to go, casually flipped to the side. Her eyes closed, she swayed and turned, signing, "I love you," with her entire body in a language only they understood. An arm slipped out of its strap, letting the side of the dress fall, partially exposing one breast. The faint scar from her lumpectomy was just visible through the sheer red fabric. The second arm extracted itself, letting the dress begin its slow decent. It fit snuggly enough that the dance was actually needed to coax it off of her body without the use of hands. As it fell free to land at her feet, her panties were exposed at last, a matching red with a darker circle of fabric from the long gone arousal she had felt.

Charlene stepped free of the dress on the floor and knelt between his legs again. George's pants were removed again, this time all the way, along with his briefs. The movie, still playing in the background, showed one woman licking the cock of a man as it slid into another woman's pussy. Neither one noticed it on a conscious level, though the moans of pleasure coming from the TV were adding to their own excitement. Charlene grasped the cock before her, fondling it like it was the most valuable thing on the planet. She played with the precum, using it to slick him up as her hands caressed it.

George was able to relax, letting the intense feelings wash over him, knowing that Charlene was not going to try again tonight, not going to prod herself into a panic. Once again, his whole body seemed to collapse into his cock, adding their sensations to what was happening in his penis. He groaned as the waves of feeling washed over him. He could feel her sides rubbing against his legs, creating little sparks of pleasure that tingled all over, making the slick hands rubbing against his cock all the more intense.

As George cried out, "Oh God! Don't stop!" Charlene aimed the primed weapon directly at her face. Her hands sped up, sending her lover over the top, his cock throbbing and pulsing, streams of cum erupting to land on her face and neck. Some dripped onto her breasts, soaking into her bra. His head had flown back and he had grunted several times as the feeling of pouring all of him out swept over him. As she milked the last of the cum from him, he took several deep breaths, his head still back.

"Dear, this is for you," she whispered.

As he looked up, she licked at her hand, lapping up the cum that had collected there, a sultry smile on her face. While it tasted somewhat unpleasant, sort of like pudding with no flavor or sugar, she made like she was savoring the taste and aroma, doing it for him, the man she loved. This was one reason she could not understand her reaction to trying to perform fellatio. She had no problem taking semen into her mouth. It didn't taste good, but it didn't bother her much.

She consumed every drop he had left on her, scooping it in her fingers and sucking them like a spoon of ice cream. Part way through, he reached out and used his own finger to gather some and offered it to her. She sucked his finger clean, making, "mmmm," noises with each gob he fed to her. When she had eaten every drop, she stood, pulling him up with her and kissed him. His mouth opened willingly as her tongue requested entrance, sharing the taste that she had been willing to experience.

"Charlene, you are so sensuous and sexy. I'm one lucky man."

"I want to lie in bed, have you hold me."

They left the tape running, to rewind automatically when it finished, and went to bed, he holding her body in his arms, a protective circle against all who would seek to harm her.

They woke up to the alarm the next morning, Wednesday. Their morning routine consisted of numerous kisses stolen against the rush of getting to work, for George, and to whatever duties called Charlene. This morning, the crisis clinic was on her schedule. He warned her that he would be an hour or more later than usual to inspect a lighting issue at one of the jobs.

Charlene's duties at the crisis pregnancy clinic were primarily receptionist. There was usually a young girl that would come in asking about resources for a 'friend' that might be in trouble. She would pretend that everyone believed the story that everyone knew was a cover and explain what resources were offered for those who found themselves pregnant and unable or unwilling to be mothers. Today was no exception. A girl, looking no older than 15, came in, looking nervous.

"Hi."

"Hello. Welcome to the clinic. How can I help you?"

"I have a friend, she's late."

"I see. Is she afraid she might be pregnant?"

"Yes. She ... she's afraid to ... she wants to know, but ... she's afraid to get a kit."

"That's understandable. It's not like those ones in the stores are very discreet. We offer testing services here, both home tests and complete medical ones for free. Did you want to pick one up for her?"

"They're free?"

"Oh yes. Your friend has a lot to worry about without the extra worry of how to pay for something." Charlene reached into the drawer and pulled out one of the kits. "This one is just like the ones you can get in the store, it's just not brightly labeled. You can have this, and your friend can find out for sure. If she wants to be absolutely sure, she can come here and we'll test her on site. No names needed."

The girl had tears in her eyes. "What ... what if it's ... what if she is?"

"If she is pregnant, that's a wonderful thing. She's bringing a new life into the world, a tremendous responsibility. We can provide complete support for her during her pregnancy and beyond. Full prenatal care, birth and parenting training, and support with raising her child once it's born."

"What if ... what if she doesn't want it?"

"We can also provide help in placing the child for adoption. The adoptive parents can be involved from the beginning if she wishes, or it can be a totally blind adoption."

"You don't ... you won't do abortions?"

"No. We don't want to burden your friend with the guilt that inevitably comes from the knowledge that they've taken the most innocent of lives."

The girl's tears were running freely and she bolted from the clinic, test in hand. Charlene said a silent prayer that God would provide comfort for the terrified teen, and guidance in making the right decision.

"You handled that very well, as usual." The clinic supervisor, Betty Stimpson, was behind her. "God willing, we'll see that one again. You up for lunch?"

"Famished. Carl's?"

"Sounds like a plan." She called out to the back, "Shirley, Charlene and I are going to lunch. You've got the desk."

The two women walked the four blocks to the Cajun eatery famous for it's jambalaya. Betty and Charlene had been friends for longer than either had been married. They shared just about everything on their regular lunches. Today, Betty could see that something was bothering Charlene.

"What's the problem, Char."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Only to someone who knows you as well as I do. It's not the girl, that I can tell. What gives?"

They had talked about this subject before, with Betty trying to reassure Charlene that she didn't have to. "I tried to perform fellatio on George again last night."

"Another panic attack?"

"Yes. Damn, Betty, it's so frustrating. I've been trying for seven years, ever since he asked on our honeymoon. He never pressures me and I just can't do it. Sometimes I wish he would force me, make me do it even though I don't want to. George is such a doll, though. He would never consider forcing me against my will."

A thought had occurred to Betty. "You know, Char, if you ask him to make you, it would not really be against your will, would it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you ask George to force you to go down on him, he would be doing what you want him to do, and he would force you to do what you want to be able to do. That would not really be against your will, it would be what you want."

"I kind of see what you're saying. I'm not sure he would buy it though."

"What's the worst that can happen? He'll not buy it and you'll be the same place you are now. If he does, and he makes you blow him, well you'll have done it. It may not be fun, but has what you've been doing been fun?"

"No, it hasn't." She paused. "I'll have to think about it."

They finished lunch and went back to the clinic. The rest of her day went pretty routine with no return of the young lady. Other than a few calls about the services they offered, the front desk was slow. Over the course of the day, she thought about Betty's suggestion. Charlene could not seem to come down on one side or the other of it. She tried to imagine how she would feel and react if George tried to force her to perform oral sex on him.

Her biggest problem was imagining him doing it at all. Her husband was one of the most considerate people she knew. That he could be that forceful seemed so out of character. Yet, she knew that he could not run his own company without having the force of will to expect and compel obedience from his employees. She also remembered the IRS incident from four years ago. They had attempted to impose penalties and interest because of a bookkeeping error on their part. He had been down right nasty in dealing with them. Most people she knew were so cowed by the IRS that they would have rolled over and paid the fines. George stood his ground and even threatened a countersuit. In the end, he had prevailed and the fees were totally reversed.

So it wasn't a case of not being able to imagine George forceful, it was imagining him forceful with her. This idea would only work if he would not take no for an answer, literally make her do the deed. She had not resolved the dilemma by the end of the night, leaving the idea unspoken between them.

The next day, she had no place to be and spent the entire day at home. The household chores were done in short order, the result of the two of them refusing to let them pile up for any length of time. She decided to watch one of her favorite movies, The Return of the Jedi. An idea percolated in her mind during the movie. Even if it didn't accomplish the goal of getting George to force her into oral sex, it might still be fun. She stopped the movie short and went about preparing for a most unusual evening.

George arrived at the house shortly before 6 that night. He thought it unusual that the house was almost all dark. There seemed to be a line of candles leading from the door into the house. He smiled, thinking that Charlene had prepared something romantic for him again. He just hoped that she was not going to try the oral sex thing so soon after the last failure. He hung up his coat, setting his case on the floor and followed the candles.

The trail led to the bedroom door, which was closed with an envelope taped to it. On the envelope was just his name. Opening it, he took out a letter and read it by the light of a candle.

"Dearest George, In this room is your new slave girl, Cherry. She is yours for the rest of the night, until we wake for the morning. She will do anything you demand of her, and she expects to be punished with spanking if she fails to follow your orders instantly or imperfectly. Please use her for your pleasure in any way you wish, including anything I, your wife, am unable or unwilling to do for you. Let me know how well she serves you in the morning."

George stared at the letter for five minutes, coming to grips with what she had written. "What is Charlene up to? Is this about the oral sex? Does she really want me to spank her? What brought all this on? This is really frightening."

He opened the door. Charlene knelt in the middle of the floor, wearing only a sheer bra and panties. She was in a circle of candles, the only light in the room. her eyes were closed and she was breathing deeply. The side of the circle facing the door was free of candles, giving him access to her. He could see light reflecting off of moisture between her legs, which were spread wide at the knees. He walked up to her, hearing her breath catch, seeing a tear run down her cheek. He crouched down before her.

"Charlene, we need to talk."

She gulped, but said nothing.

"Charlene, talk to my. Why?"

Another tear rolled down the other cheek. "Sir, Charlene is not here. I hope that I, Cherry, can please you in some way."

He thought to himself, "She has really gotten into this. She is determined to be my little slave girl tonight." Out loud, he said, "Cherry. I must speak to Charlene. If you cannot get her, I shall be disappointed."

He voice caught as she spoke. "Please George, don't reject this."

"Charlene, you don't have to do this."

"No, I do. Not for you, I know you would never ask this. But I need to for me. I can't make myself. But you can."

"I can't force you against your will, it would be rape."

"Not against my will, but with my will. George, I want to do this for you, the oral. But I can't make myself. Please, honey, make me do what I want to do." Her tears were flowing freely, Charlene on the verge of losing control.

"Even the spanking?"

"Even that."

"What if you change your mind in an hour?"

"I won't. I can't. Cherry is yours until morning, no matter what she wants."

George sighed. He was beginning to see just how important this was to her. She had sacrificed a lot because she loved him. Now she was giving up her freedom of choice, in a round about way. He could do no less for her. She said she needed to be his slave tonight, to be forced into doing what she desired to do, but dreaded for some reason. He would give her this.

"Okay. But you make sure Cherry understands that, as a slave, I expect her to be better in bed than a free woman, or she will feel my hand against her ass, and not in a pleasant way."

Charlene took a deep breath, her eyes clearing and responded, "Sir, I understand. I am but a slave and am expected to be perfectly pleasing in all things. What do you wish of me?"

"Cherry, you are horribly overdressed. I expect my slaves to wear nothing that I have not given them. Strip!"

"Yes Sir." Charlene removed her bra and panties, kneeling again totally naked before her husband/master. Her pussy was glistening, damp with her natural lubricant.

"Cherry, I wish to eat. Fix dinner. I'll be in the living room. If the meal is not perfect, you will be spanked. Oh, and Cherry, I am Master, not sir."

Charlene gulped and said, "Yes Master." She got up and trotted off to the kitchen

George followed, watching the lightness of her step, recognizing that she was curiously happy at being naked and ordered around. "I think she has over estimated how easy it will be for her to accept fellatio pretending to be a slave. Unless she really gets into the roleplay she's doing, she will still panic and be unable to do it. I need to give her the motivation, help her to feel like a slave a little. Damn! Do I need to make her feel small, less than what she is, so she can rise up to be more? This is really confusing. I had better skip the beer tonight. I'm going to need a clear head to pull this off and not hurt her." His thoughts ran on, worried. He loved her deeply and had the suspicion that he was treading on thin ice. One wrong thing tonight and they could be picking up the pieces for years.

Charlene was in the kitchen, preparing the dinner she had planned. She set the broiler heating as she got fresh vegetables out and started cutting up broccoli, cauliflower and carrots for a home made California blend. The potatoes had already been boiling and would be ready to mash in 15 minutes. She heard the TV come on, CSI drifting over the distance between the living room and the kitchen. She hated the program, with its focus on death and the evil that men do to one another. But, she was a slave tonight and would not complain.

"Cherry, bring me a Sunny D!"

She turned from her chopping and poured him a glass of the tropical fruit drink. She walked it out to him and extended the glass to him. He didn't reach out for it, ignoring her.

"Master, your Sunny D."

"Serve me on your knees, Cherry."

Charlene's breath caught in her throat. His voice sounded so ... harsh. She knelt before him and extended the glass towards him, having to reach up.

"Much better. Return to dinner."

She did not notice the perspiration on his brow, a sign of the effort it took to treat her coldly for that brief a time. He was not certain he could keep it up. Yet, he was sure she had the harder task, to play the part of a person allowed no free will.

The oven had heated and she put the steaks in to broil. The marinade they had been in for the last three hours had permeated them with flavor. The veggies were put in a steamer and she poured the potatoes into the colander. They were mashed, interrupted once to turn the steaks. Everything was ready in short order and she returned to the living room, figuring that a slave would not call her Master to the table.

Kneeling again, she told him, "Master, dinner is on the table. Would you like to eat now?"

"Yes, precede me to the dining room." George stood and followed her to the table, where he saw that two places had been set. "Cherry, why are there two places set?"

"Master? One for you and one for me?"

"So you think that a slave eats at the table with her Master?" His voice cracked as he spoke the question with the tone he usually reserved for employees he suspected of stealing from him.

Charlene felt tears fill her eyes. She knew he could be commanding, but had not really understood what it meant to on the receiving end of that command presence. The only thing that kept her from breaking down was the crack in his voice. Knowing that he was struggling in this as well buoyed her heart.

"I'm sorry Master. I was not thinking. I'll clear it right away."

"Make it fast."

She took her place setting into the kitchen, putting it away. She returned to his side, kneeling next to him. She waited for him to command her again.

"Serve my plate and get a pillow from the couch to kneel on."

She served his dinner, giving him generous portions of all three courses, pouring him a glass of milk. Then she went to the living room, took one of the pillows off the couch, returned to his side and knelt next to him. He ate in silence, not even looking down at her. He struggled to keep up his act. Ordering her to kneel while he ate, not sharing their meal, was incredibly hard. It was the first time in years that they had not talked at the table about their day.

Charlene felt tears slide down her cheeks. She was a bundle of confusing emotions. She could not believe that he was making her feel so small and insignificant. Her heart was hurting, searching for some sign that the husband she loved was still there. Her mind knew that it was an act, but her soul was fearful. Yet, she was aroused. She could feel and smell wetness between her legs. Her nipples were erect and she was feeling flushed all over. She felt that familiar emptiness in her center, the one that could only be filled by him. How could she feel small and hot at the same time?

Halfway through his meal, he stopped. He cut a piece of steak, speared it with his fork and held it to Charlene's face. "Eat," he ordered.

Charlene looked up, seeing the meat before her. Without thinking, she whispered, "Thank you, Master," bit the meat off and ate it. This continued for the rest of the meal. George would give her a bite after each of his. He saw her tears and his heart almost broke in pain. He so did not want to do this, yet, he could see that she was aroused as well. Even more, he could feel an intense wave of love each time she spoke the words, "Thank you, Master," before she took each bite. Somehow, in spite of the tears, she truly wanted this. He resolved to not stop, giving her what she needed, no matter how much it hurt.

When he had finished, he pushed his plate away. "Cherry, clean off the table, do the dishes and join me in the living room. Kneel beside my chair."

"Yes, Master."

Charlene went through the motions of cleaning up, her mind on other things. She was amazed at what she had felt while being fed on her knees. It was one of the most sensual experiences she had ever had. How was the simple act of being fed by another so strong? For a few minutes, she had felt like something other that Charlene. She had felt ... owned somehow. She realized then, that she would have gone without dinner if he had not fed her or ordered her to eat.

Finished, she went to his side and knelt beside his chair. Pretending to move his hand absentmindedly, he brushed his had against her back and shoulders, gently caressing her. Her skin against his hand was reassuring, pleasing. This was the woman he loved, wanting to please him in yet another way. She felt his hand run across her body and felt, yes, arousal building, but also ... protected. She knew that he wanted the best for her. He seemed to understand the need that she had been feeling for years, now, and was willing to do what needed to be done to fulfill that need.

For two hours, they remained like that, he in his chair, she kneeling beside him, his hand caressing her. As the time passed, he became more comfortable with this act of domination, of subjugating the woman he loved. She slid deeper into her role as is subservient woman, desperate to please him in any way she could. At the end of the two hours, his hand left her.

"Cherry, go to the bedroom and wait for me."

"Yes, Master." She practically leapt to her feet and ran to the bedroom.

He let her wait for ten minutes before he followed her. She was kneeling in the center of the now extinguished candles in the same position she had been at first. George steeled himself for the next step. He knew he needed to convince her that he really would spank her, to give her the incentive to be obedient. The only way to do that was to actually spank her. He had the reasons he needed, he just needed to find the will.

"Cherry, you have disappointed me thrice tonight. You were wearing clothes when you came before me. You attempted to serve me from a standing position. You set yourself a place at the table as if you were my wife. I must punish you."

Charlene's breath drew in quickly. She had not thought he would be willing to spank her. She was afraid, of the pain from his hand, of hurting his heart by making him do this. He was waiting for something, she realized, as he took no action. Then it hit her. He wanted to be reassured that she was okay with this. He needed her okay, one last time.

"I'm sorry Master. It will not happen again. Please punish me for disappointing you. Spank me, Master."

He breathed a breath he had not realized he was holding. She really wanted him to go all the way. Taking a deep breath, he sat down.

"Lay down across my lap, Cherry."

"Yes, Master."

"Cherry, for being clothed, five swats, for standing to serve me, five swats, and for treating yourself as equal to my wife, ten swats. Does that seem fair to you?"

Charlene gulped. "Yes, Master, that is a fair and light punishment." She wanted to let him know that she was ready for more if he wished it.

George steeled himself, raised his hand, felt her steel herself, and brought it down with a firm SLAP!

"Ow!"

SLAP!

"Oh God, it hurts."

SLAP!

"Oh please, it hurts, it hurts."

He kept up a steady pace, one slap each five seconds. Her cries of pain became more and more vocal. Her tears were running freely by the seventh swat. By the twelfth, she was sobbing uncontrollably. Yet not once did she ever beg him to stop. By the fifteenth slap, George was crying himself, his tears dropping onto her back. After the twentieth slap impacted her now red ass, he picked her up, holding her close, letting her cry on his shoulder.

She was trying to say something as she continued to cry. It was the same thing, repeated over and over again. When he finally understood it, he was shocked.

"Thank you, Master for punishing me. Thank you."

It was then he understood just how much she needed this, this forcing. She truly was afraid that she could never climb this mountain on her own. She needed his help, and his understanding and gentleness with her failure had actually prevented her from succeeding. Whatever this deep seated panic was from, it was too strong for her, and she needed his strength, his determination to overcome it. He realized that tonight was as much about his love for her as it was about her love for him. Did he love her enough to force her to do that which she desired to do? He knew now what his answer was.

He set her back down on her knees, seeing the beauty in the tear stained face and red ass. He stood up and, in his sternest command voice, ordered, "Undress me, Cherry, then kneel before me and suck my cock until I cum."

Charlene's breath caught. "Oh God. Please." She started to tremble, fear and panic rising up, threatening to send her screaming from the room.

George lifted her chin so she looked him in then eye. "Are you planning on disappointing me yet again, Cherry?"

Tears began to flow freely. "No Master. I won't disappoint you."

She stood and slowly removed his clothes, each item taken off in a worshipful manner, careful to not rush. Each item was lovingly set aside on a chair. As a new part of his body was uncovered, she kissed a part of it. Last to be removed was his briefs. As they revealed his crotch, she gently kissed the end of his cock, the rock hard cock that sprang forth. A shudder passed through her, the panic trying to force her from the room. But, in her mind, she had no choice. She was a slave and had to obey.

His briefs having joined the rest of his clothes, she knelt before him, staring at the thing that terrified her so much. She was still terrified of taking it into her mouth, yet this time she did not bolt. Softly sobbing, she leaned forward and took the cock into her mouth. The tension between the need to bolt and the need to obey was so tight that she was unaware just how much physical need she was experiencing. George, able to look down on her could see her thighs glistening in the light from the moisture that was covering them. He saw that she was not just wet, her juices were running down her legs in small rivulets. Her breasts pressed against his legs, the nipples harder than at any time in the past.

This awareness faded as his own feelings made themselves known. His cock, which had hardened to painful awareness during the spanking, was sending warning signals out, a flood of sensation that had so long been desired, finally arriving. The warm moist mouth that had engulfed him was driving him to climax like a freight train. Instinctively, he grabbed her head to keep it in place. He could feel her tremble in his hands, while moaning and crying at the same time. She made no move to escape his grasp and, shortly thereafter, shot his load into her mouth with a loud cry. As he did, his hips thrust forward and pushed his cock even farther into her, touching the back of her throat, causing her to gag helplessly at the massive intruder into her breathing passage.

Four pulses of cum emptied out of him, pouring down her throat as she struggled to swallow without breathing and stifle the gagging reflex. He let go as his orgasm faded and she pulled back a little to breath, holding him in her mouth still, while sucking in great gulps of air. Her hands milked the last of his cum into her mouth. As she did, she realized that the panic was fading, having finally been beaten back. She didn't know if it would stay away, but she did know now that Cherry and her Master could beat it back again and again if needed.

He pulled out of her mouth and grasped her under her arms. Lifting, he dropped her on her back onto the bed. Pulling her legs apart, he bent down and put his own face into her crotch, licking at the folds of her pussy. It was then that she realized just how aroused she was. She was trembling in need and it took very little to send her into her own orgasm, he body shaking and screaming as the tidal wave of pent up emotion and arousal was finally unleashed.

As she came down, he lifted her onto her side of the bed, pulled the covers over her and joined her. He wrapped his arms around his slave/wife and kissed her neck and shoulders.

"Master, was I pleasing tonight?"

"Yes, very much so. Charlene will get a good report on you tomorrow."

"Thank you Master."

Exhausted from the physical and emotional effort they had put forth, they fell into a peaceful slumber that was unbroken until the alarm went off at its usual time. Charlene continued to lie in bed as George took his shower. When he came out and started dressing, she smiled up at him, blushing slightly.

"George, thank you so much for last night."

"Did you really enjoy yourself the whole time?"

"Yes, I think I did. The spanking wasn't very fun, but it made everything that followed so ... possible. I'm not being very clear, am I?"

"It is five in the morning. I'm going to quit early. We should talk about what happened, how we felt and how we feel now. The blow job was really intense, more than any other I'd had before we met. I would love to experience that again."

"I'll be home. I'd like to give you head more in the future. It certainly made me more aroused than I can remember in recent memory."

George's day at work was routine, for a Friday. He let his project managers take more responsibility for things today and concentrated on finalizing some estimates for new jobs that were coming available in the next few weeks. One he opted against, not wanting to take the heat for the previous contractor's screw ups. From the specs, he could tell that this homeowner was one of those that changed requirements in the middle of the job, a guarantee of dissatisfaction.

Charlene spent another morning and part of an afternoon at the clinic. Today, no one new came in, just a few of the mothers and mothers-to-be that they were providing services for. Two of the pregnant girls were worried about what were normal developments in their pregnancies, but had nowhere else they felt comfortable asking questions of. The third was in for her regularly scheduled prenatal visit and was beaming with the news that her baby was developing normally. Charlene was able to leave at 3 and was waiting for George when he got in a little before four.

They sat on the couch, cuddling and relaxing in each others' arms. Charlene started.

"Honey, I want to thank you again for last night. I did it, I was able to give you oral sex."

"You did catch me by surprise. At first, I wasn't sure about the whole slave game thing. It felt like you were asking me to rape your mouth."

"I know. But, I wanted to do it, I just could not get over that panic that wells up every time I try. It was there last night too. I just felt like I didn't have the option to run away, which is what I wanted to feel."

"So you wanted me to make you feel unable to resist, that you had no choices?"

"Yes. I know that you have always respected me and have never made me do anything I did not want to do, and I love that about you, among other things. But with the oral, I both wanted and didn't want to do it. I needed you to make the want to part of me stronger than the didn't want to part."

"So treating you like a lesser person actually helped? It did not feel right at first, but, I don't know, it felt, needed. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, I think I do. I think it really helped too. By the time we went to the bedroom, I was really into being your slave girl. I wanted to please you, very much, more than I have felt before. But, I still was feeling that panic rising, even before you ordered me to suck you. I don't know if I could have, even then, if you hadn't spanked me."

"I have to be honest, the spanking, it was ripping me up inside. I have never hit a woman before, and I felt like I was doing something horribly evil. If you hadn't asked me to, I don't think I would have been able to. Did it really help that much?"

"I think so. It was only after the spanking that I felt totally unable to refuse you. Partly, since you had showed me you could spank me, I didn't want to have it happen again. But, partly, I knew how hard it was for you to do it, and I didn't want to make you have to do it again. Ironically, that spanking was one of the most intense declarations of your love for me that you've ever given me."

"Were you turned on by the entire evening?"

"Oh God, yes! From the moment I saw you pull in and lit the candles to wait for you, I was wet, horny and breathless. It was even stronger at the times when you rebuked me for screwing up. And while 20 spanks were terribly painful, I was dripping by the time you had finished. I don't know just what it was about being spanked that did it, but my need for you just skyrocketed. If I never have to feel that level of pain again, I'll be ecstatic, but I most definitely want to feel that level of arousal again, and would consider it a fair trade, provided you can fuck me next time."

"I've never seen anyone crying their heart out and dripping their juices in actual streams down their legs before. What was that about. I almost stopped you until I realized just how aroused you had been."

"Oh God. I'm so glad you didn't stop me. The tears were partly from the panic. I wanted so badly to run away again, to get it out of my mouth. But they were also joyful. I was doing it, giving you head. I was so happy to finally be able to do it after all these years. I didn't enjoy the physical process. I was constantly feeling like I was going to choke, especially when you pulled me in tight." She held up a hand to forestall his interruption. "But I want to learn to enjoy the physical act itself. I want everything that you want, even the ones I don't enjoy. That's why I sometimes watch CSI with you, even though it sometimes makes me sick with disgust. I love you and I want what you want. I know you feel the same about me. Why else do you listen when I go on about 'The Young and the Restless'?"

"Where do we go from here? What do you want?"

"I'd like Cherry to be a regular, if infrequent, part of our lovemaking. It wasn't just the oral success that made last night so special. I really enjoyed being at your beck and call, being subservient to you. I'd like to feel that some more, explore other ways of being subservient to your wishes. It would give you a chance to explore some of the fantasies you've had that you never talk about. I know you've had some, I think every guy does."

"As long as we explore some of your undisclosed fantasies too. It should be about both of us, not just me."

"Deal. I wonder what's in store for Cherry the next time I give her to you?"

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