Femdomme Marriage Gone Wrong and Aftermath

My eyes misted over as I fondled the key and read the letter a second and third time.

Oh how I loved this woman. Why did She do what She did?

Well I'm going to stay firm for now and with that thought I headed for the showers, stopping at the toilets and after entering the stall removed my CB. After more than three weeks, it felt kind of strange not having it on. Should I jerk off right here and now? Several guys entered the toilet area and I decided to just stick it into my pocket and head for the showers after undressing by my locker.

Greg was already getting dressed as I got there.

"You OK?"

He asked with a bit of concern in his voice letting me know that he had no idea what was in the letter itself. But I'm sure he knew about the key.

"Yeah, thanks. Please tell Monique "thank you" and that I'll e-mail her some stuff by the weekend. You can also let her know that I'll be in the office on Monday."

"Hey I had great time today even if I did not beat you (grin) but at least I didn't give you the satisfaction of beating me because I would have never heard the end of that. I'm going to be busy after I get back to the office. I'll let you know on Tuesday if I can get away on Wednesday morning for our regular scheduled tee time"

"Sounds good Peter. I'll get the message to Monique as soon as I get home. May be I can coax her out and go to dinner with me. (wry grin) I know I'm not going to get into her pants – at least not until you two sort things out. Call me if you need anything or just want to talk some more."

With that he left and I headed to showers with my head full of conflicting emotions. One of them was to just go home and see where the chips fell but then I dismissed that thought. No better stick to the plan, get all your ducks in a row so that you know what you want out of this relationship.

By the time I was clean and dressed, I was hungry. There really was nothing along the way to the lake other than some greasy spoons or MD's and it would be too late to start cooking once I got there. So I decided to go back to casual restaurant but opted to sit at the bar and eat. I ordered some fish and chips – yeah still greasy but at least I could be reasonably sure that the kitchen was cleaner than anything along the highway and a Yuengling. I know fish and chips and a German style beer, but I just don't like Guinness.

After eating I got into my car and drove back to the lake, looking forward to sitting on the back deck with my pipe and contemplating some more Monique's letter.

That night was the first one with completely untroubled and restful sleep since the whole mess got started. I had a light breakfast, went for a run and upon my return called the office to check on things. As expected things were running pretty smoothly. I told my PA that I would be back on Monday and meanwhile one of the research guys should look into every aspect of Harry ... business and personal life.

"I expect at least an interim report to be on my desk on Monday"

After wishing her a great rest of the week and weekend, I hung up to head for the shower but as I looked out the window, I realized that a nice breeze had sprung up between the time I came in from my run and the end of the telephone conversation. Screw the shower, time to go sailing. I don't do that often enough.

As I was on my boat scooting along on a broad reach across the widest part of the lake, I decided that I would go racing on Saturday and Sunday if there was a nice breeze. I admit it, I'm a "fair weather sailor". I just hate to sit in a drifter constantly looking for ripples on the water trying to figure out where the next puff of wind is coming from. On the other hand, give me a good stiff breeze forcing you hike out and spray hitting you – well that is my kind of sailing and racing. Better call Jack, a kid living on the other side of the lake to make sure he was available to crew for me.

I can handle the boat alone but club rules say that if the boat has a jib, you need a crew during racing.

When I got back from sailing, I had a late lunch and took a nap. Hmm, maybe I have something here. I could get used to this. Maybe I should make more of an effort to train a replacement, take early retirement or at least cut back during the summers to a couple of days a week and spend more time up here. It would be great to have the time to restore that old wooden M-Scow that is sitting in the barn across from the main road that passes by the lake.

Wonder what Monique would think of that? Oh yeah, Monique and what to do about her...

With that thought, I fired up my lap top and started to compose an e-mail to her.

Dearest Monique,

I was truly touched by your thoughtful letter and giving me the key to my CB. Thank you very much.

I guess we are in a bit of a mess. I really don't have the words to describe the feeling when I caught the two of you last Friday afternoon. Let it suffice that it took a great amount of restraint not to hurt that bastard more than I did. The trouble is no matter what I would have done to him, it would not have soothed the pain in my heart because you were a willing participant.

You said something that fateful day that struck a chord.

You said - "I guess I was wrong in viewing cuckolding you in MY house as just a natural extension of our Domme/sub relationship."

Yes, it is YOUR house but it was OUR home. Do you see the difference? I hope you do because if you don't then I see no hope for us.

I don't know for sure if it would have been different, had you been open with your cuckolding me. You know Greg confessed that has been sleeping with you and I guess you fed him a bit of "white lie" by telling him that I was OK with it. We never talked about you taking lovers.

Maybe that is part of the problem – a failure to communicate. I guess I'm partly to blame for that. Maybe I should spoken up after you fed me your first cream pie at the BDSM club. But after having been tied up for who knows how long without sight or sound other than that damn white noise from the ear phones, I was so deep into sub space that it probably did not register properly. And all that incredibly hot sex after we got home from the club further dulled my memories. It made me feel secure and loved and at that moment it did not matter that you had sex with some other guy.

But in OUR home...

Yes the failure to communicate. Because if we had talked about cuckolding – and I understand in some way that you look at it as an extension of our Domme/sub relationship – I would have told you that while I did not like it, I could accept it with enough assurances in words and action from your side that the love you feel for me is not effected by it. However, I would have told you that doing it in OUR home would not be acceptable. A man, even a "perv" submissive like me needs to maintain some self respect. A man's home is his castle even if it belongs to his Queen.

As I'm typing this I can just visualize Her – My Queen