A domme takes over the lives of a married couple


"Grind down on his face!"

Sam perched forward excitedly in her chair, encouraging Laura to rasp her close-shaved, bristly bush roughly against her husband's shiny face.

The atmosphere in the room was sexually charged, scored by the symphony of Laura's excited gasps, wet slurps of cunnilingus, and Sam's curt instructions.

Laura was totally naked, her 34D boobs jiggled as she rode Chris's face. They were both on their living room floor. Her sweating body glistened in the sunlight that streamed through the front window. Dust particles danced in the warm summer air. She was fully exposed should any visitor happen to walk close by and peer through the window. She was facing her husband's feet. His similarly nude body was spread-eagled on the Persian rug that covered the wooden floor.

"Harder. But don't cum yet."

In contrast to the married couple's nakedness, Sam was still dressed in her grey track pants and sweaty black running vest. She had a glass of iced water in her hand that she sipped, while she watched her new clients, 'in training'. She was moist between her own thighs, her nipples hard against the damp cotton vest, but she didn't touch herself. Not yet anyway. She focused on them.

It had all begun two months earlier, when Chris and Laura had answered her ad. She was a legitimate, qualified personal trainer, based at a nearby gym, but she did home visits too. Chris and Laura were both 27 and keen to get fitter, to lose a few pounds and to look great. Both were good looking anyway, but pretty much everybody can use a bit more definition, a healthier lifestyle, right?

Straight from the very first meeting, there was a frisson of excitement; an electricity between the three of them. At 23, Sam was four years the couple's junior, but taking charge came naturally to her. She was a hard taskmistress and Laura and Chris quickly demonstrated a willingness to follow her orders. Almost blind obedience to her, in fact.

Nobody had called her Samantha for two decades. She was Sam, pure and simple. An only child with separated parents who both had new families of their own, Sam had been the only person she could rely on for as long as she could remember.

Four weeks after meeting Chris and Laura, Sam stayed behind for a drink after their running and exercise session had finished. The conversation turned to sex. Sam encouraged her clients to use sex as physical exercise and as a motivation. But it soon became obvious that Chris and Laura's sex life was vanilla and unfulfilled. Yet that's not how it seemed either of them wanted it to be. Somebody had to take charge.

"Okay. Push back. Ram your butt on his face now."

Laura didn't even hesitate. Her eyes were closed. She adjusted her hips so her sweaty anus plopped directly onto Chris's face. Her mouth was open in a small, eager 'o'. Just a week ago, Laura had never even had a tongue in her ass and Chris had never once put his tongue into one. But Sam was broadening their horizons. Fast.

She smiled at Chris's erection, jutting up towards his stomach muscles. Neither he nor Laura touched it. His turn may come at the end? Maybe not. His dick was a decent size. His groin was totally devoid of hair, waxed bald as a baby now, a blunt reminder that Sam was now in charge of 'all his body'. She could hear him struggling to breathe and see his neck muscles working. The room smelt heavy with the sweet and sour perfume of their perspiration and sex.

Sam couldn't really believe her luck. This was her fantasy in the flesh. She had a casual boyfriend but he was nothing serious. She loved kinky sex and was bisexual and dominant. So Chris and Laura ticked all her boxes.

Laura had already revealed to Sam that she had been a virgin when she married Chris 7 years before. She hadn't done more than kiss another boy when she was in her mid-teens. She'd been 18 when she met Chris and had married him at 20.

Even Chris had only ever had one girlfriend before Laura. They met on arrival at college and it was love at first sight. Sweet, romantic, young love. Sex was typically plentiful but bland; inexperienced, rushed, missionary, vanilla. Laura had shyly admitted to Sam she'd almost never had an orgasm from sex with Chris. They had both slowly settled into a sexual rut. Each of them silently thought it was their destiny to live with their own private, unshared fantasies.

Before fate had decided to scratch their seven year itch.

Sam sipped her water and smiled, as Laura bounced her sweaty buns energetically over Chris's chops. Laura had enjoyed quite a few huge orgasms once Sam had taken over her lovemaking.

The shattering, memorable, addictive kind that become like drugs.

Now, for the past fortnight, Sam had forbidden Laura and Chris to have any sex together at all, or even to masturbate, jointly or alone, without her permission. Laura's eyelids opened and her smoky green eyes sought out Sam's face.

Laura was pretty, very pretty, prettier even than Sam. She was a brunette with shoulder length dark hair, high cheekbones, and classic features. She stood tall, at 5'9", with a model's legs and a lissom body. As she bucked and moaned astride Chris's face, her posture showed off the symmetry of her tiny waist and rounded hips.

The slight excess on her thighs that she'd been worried about had already been exercised off. Her skin glowed from the strict, healthy diet Sam had put her on. But Sam's favourite feature was Laura's boobs; high and full, 34D, with dark berry nipples. Her tits were larger than you'd normally expect on such a lithe body. They bounced and swayed and made Sam want to kiss and bite them.

Sam herself was a fake blonde, only 5'6", but her athletic, upright bearing made her appear taller. She had citron-yellow hair cut in a short bob, framing her cute puckish face.

People said she looked like some French actress, but she couldn't remember the name. Her body was magnificently fit, without a millimetre of fat, although she herself would have liked more generous curves. But she only had a flat A-cup chest and was going to get herself a boob-job if she ever got the money. Boys fancied her aura, energy and sexual enthusiasm as much as her looks. She'd lost her virginity at 14 and had never looked back since.

She smiled and gently nodded her head. Laura's eyes blinked back at her in relief like two emeralds. Laura was desperate to cum and she was seeking approval to swivel her clit back into contact with Chris's tongue. After two hours of exercise, every inch of her skin shone and her bottom was leaking sweat.

Sam watched her lean forward so that her stubbly 'five o'clock shadow' of pussy hair slid down either side of Chris's nostrils. By now, his face was rubbed red and raw from his wife's bristly pubes. But his tongue slid obediently into her pink folds.

"Okay." Sam sighed magnanimously. "You can cum".

*** *** ***

Three days later, Sam arrived early and let herself in. She had a copy of their door key now. She made two home visits a week; Thursdays and Sundays. Both training sessions were officially two hours; paid in cash at her full, standard rate.

But today was going to be different. A whole Sunday. They had all agreed to kick things up another notch. Chris greeted her in his running shorts and a Coldplay T-shirt. His face was fresh-shaven but he still bore the 'shaving rash' of the marathon face-sitting session three days before.

Chris and Laura lived in an upmarket starter home. It was a modern built house with a living room, kitchen, master suite, a guest bedroom and a third bedroom-study. It was quite a contrast to Sam's rented bedsit in a derelict neighbourhood.

He was as cute as his wife was pretty. They made a handsome couple. He was 6' 1" tall with caramel hair and a square-jaw. A bit like the actor Christopher Reeve, but in Clark Kent rather than Superman mode. He proved the truth that not all male submissives are poorly endowed wimps. He had intelligent brown eyes and wore glasses most of the time.

Like Laura, the excess inch round Chris's waist when they'd begun their training had already disappeared. Sam had put him on a rigid alcohol-free, low sugar, zero red meat diet. He had given up his 5-a-day smoking habit and tried as hard as he could to observe her total veto on masturbation and internet porn.

"Morning Chris." She said, placing her key on the console. Her envelope was already there, containing cash for two sessions and a copy of their past three months bank statements she'd asked to see.

"Good morning, Miss." He replied. "Coffee?"

She smiled and he flicked on the kettle. There was a flushing sound and Laura emerged from the downstairs toilet. She was wearing running shorts as well, with slits up the side. She had on the new skin-tight top Sam had found for her online; 'Bimbo' was emblazoned across her straining chest in bright pink letters.

"Ready?" Sam greeted her, without even saying hello.

"Yes, Miss." Laura replied.

Sam pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket with a 'treasure map' on it. It marked a route to her own neighbourhood in red pen that added up to a six and a half mile run. There and back would be thirteen miles. A half marathon. Sam had deposited a coin buried by a tree that was the 'treasure'. Laura had to run and fetch it and bring it back. As fast as she could. Sam watched from the front doorstep as Laura set off running down the street.

Sam sat down with the coffee Chris had made for her; black without sugar. He knelt at her feet and she began the interrogation.

"So, no cigarettes?"

He shook his head.

"No booze? No porn? No sex?"

He shook his head.

"No jerking off?"

He paused, then shook his head.

"No? Sure?"

She looked hard into his brown eyes. He swallowed.

"Tell me."

"I didn't cum. But I did touch myself a bit. I managed to control myself before coming."

"When? Where?"

"At the office. In the mens room cubicles at Lewis Mitchell. On Friday."

She feigned anger. She had forbidden him to cum last Thursday at the end of the session. It was the first time she hadn't let him spurt his load, not even just before she left as she usually did. She wanted to see what happened if she didn't.

"You expect me to believe you didn't make yourself cum?"

He met her gaze. "I didn't. I promise. It was agony but I didn't."

She stared at him, exploring his brown eyes, and then finally smiled. It was probably true. How delicious.

"What did you do Friday and Saturday nights?"

He shrugged. "Supper. TV. Chores. Early nights."

"No touching Laura? No sex?"

"No." He shook his head. "I swear."


"Just a peck on the cheek goodnight."

She chuckled. It felt so good to be controlling an adult couple; married, older than her, forbidding them to do what any normal husband and wife would do at the weekend.

"Take off your clothes."

He quickly obeyed, stepping out of his flip-flops, shorts and Coldplay T-shirt. She studied him casually. He'd make a fine boyfriend, husband even. A good earner, domesticated, well mannered. But he was hot too. His waist was narrow and his torso flared out in a sexy v up to his broad shoulders. His cock and balls looked strangely magnified by the fact there was no pubic hair around them.

"Now mine."

Sam watched his eyes widen in shock. But he obediently unlaced and removed her running shoes and socks. Next she raised her hips so he could tug down her grey track pants. She wasn't wearing any underwear. She signalled dismissively that he should leave her running vest on.

She sat above him, naked from the waist down, thighs apart. Her own bush was lush and curly, in contrast to Chris's baby-waxed groin and Laura's bristly stubble. His eyes looked down at her feet and his face had flushed red.

"Look at me." She snapped.

He gazed at her and gulped.

"You don't think all that oral training you've been having is just for your wife, do you? Well, do you?"

He shook his head. "Er ... no Mistress."

She stared him down until he glanced away then reached out to tug his hair. She twisted his head until his eyes were fixed on hers. A thrill of power surged through her.

It felt so good, thinking of Laura, barely out of the house, running a half marathon. And Sam was about to cuckquean her as the next stage in the takeover process. Eventually she'd have Chris's dick inside her – though probably just the once - to prove she could, but for now his tongue and lips would be enough.

"Kiss it."

It would have been immediately obvious to anybody that Sam's pussy wasn't clean. Her labia were puffy, her thighs damp and her pubic bush was wet. She was usually a manic bather and took showers twice a day or more. But she'd had sex with Tim at midnight and again that morning before he left. Then she'd just pulled on her kit and come straight round. On purpose.

Chris lent forward and ran his tongue up her gaping slit. A bolt of electricity ran through her. This was a first, even for her. She shut her eyes and settled back into the armchair. To think, she was being paid for this!

*** *** ***

Chris controlled his gagging reflex. There's a big difference between fantasy and reality. It was obvious that Sam's pussy had been fucked recently. But the fluid oozing out of her was clear and rancid, not thick and white like fresh semen, so he guessed it was at least from earlier that morning, or maybe even the night before.

He ran his tongue between the folds of her soaking slit, up and down. She gasped and he felt her body shudder, then relax, and her thighs parted even wider. He realised that he had not even considered whether Sam might have her own sex life beforehand. He'd just assumed she was single, part of their triangle, and not thought about the possibility she had a boyfriend as well.

Yet here he was slurping the fishy spunk of some unknown guy. Did the guy know? Had Sam told him what she planned and had they laughed together as he deposited this load in her pussy? Who was he? Old? Young? Black? White? Chinese? Married? Fuck knew? He could even have some disease? He realised he just had to trust Sam.

It didn't really taste of much. Just sour and salty. But the stench was worse. And the thought. He couldn't have licked it from anywhere or anybody else. But somehow Sam's pussy made it bearable. His young Mistress. His 23 year old trainer. Hot. So fucking hot. And sexy. And dominant. He was kissing her cunt at last.

He suddenly thought of Laura. Out running. Shit. What would Laura say? What had Sam said? "You don't think all that oral training you've been having is just for your wife, do you?"

He'd never considered oral sex before. Was it being unfaithful? It wasn't like he was fucking another woman. He was just using his tongue. But how would he feel if Laura gave another a guy a blowjob? That would be infidelity too, wouldn't it? Just because Sam had told him to do something, didn't make it right, did it?

But he didn't stop. He couldn't. He was like a deer in a trap. A honey trap.

Then he felt fingers in his hair. Her thighs tensed and she shifted her body.

"Hold my knees up." Her voice was crisp, authoritative, unembarrassed.

He used his hands to support her and found her crinkled butthole under his face.

"That's right. Yes." She hissed. "Put your tongue in there now."

*** *** ***

Laura walked for a minute or so, then managed to stagger up to a jog again. She had terrible stitch. Her legs ached and she was dripping with sweat. But at least she'd found the coin and was on her way home now.

Thank heavens most people didn't seem to notice her outfit. The slit shorts and the tight T. At least it supported her bouncing breasts as she ran, so they didn't flop about too much. There were a lot of men, women and families out and about in the sunshine. Thankfully only a few groups of teenage kids. A few smiled slyly at the 'Bimbo' logo inscribed in pink across her chest.

The humiliation and adrenaline excited her in equal measure. What was she, a grown woman, doing? Out running to please her personal trainer? This wasn't just training, after all, was it? It was sexual submission. Pure and simple.

*** *** ***

By the time Laura stumbled home, Sam was showered and dressed. She had forbidden Chris to mention anything about what had happened between them. It would be their secret.

For now.

Sam let Laura drink a glass of water and recover her breath. But then it was time for Chris's reward. Sam knew it was important to bait the hook.

Laura hadn't licked Chris's asshole yet. Up to today their recent conversion to analingus had been a one-way street. But what's good for the gander is good for the goose. Sam was an equal opportunities Domme!

Chris bent over and clutched his ankles. He was totally naked. Laura knelt behind him. She was still dressed in her running shorts and T-shirt. They clung damply to her curves.

"Use your thumbs to prise open your husband's butt cheeks."

Sam chuckled at the nervous expression of distaste on Laura's red face.

"Good. That's it. Wider. Now have a good look inside."

Sam leaned down and put her head alongside Laura's, peering into Chris's puckered anus. His buns were toned, hairy with a red zit on one cheek.

"Mmm ...do you like what you see?"

Laura's throat bobbed. Her voice cracked. "Er ... n .. y ... yes."

"Then why haven't you done this before?"

"H ... he never asked me to."

Sam snorted. "Never asked you to? Why didn't you offer to? He's your darling husband, isn't he?"

"I ... d ..." Laura's whisper trailed off.

"Well get your tongue up there right now."

Sam gave the back of Laura's head a light shove of encouragement. She watched her pink tongue stick out and disappear between Chris's cleft.

He gasped and his semi-erect dick jumped to complete attention.

Sam reached under him and gave it a few encouraging tugs. Then she perched down on the arm of the sofa to watch the entertainment.

"Mmm ... looks good. I can't believe you've been married seven years and you haven't tongued his shitter before. His dick is sticking out like a yardarm. He's loving it. I'm going to make you both give each other so many thrills over the months to come."

Laura's head bobbed rhythmically in and out of her husband's ass. Sam lifted her phone out from under a cushion and took several photos.

"Okay." She called out after three minutes. "Lie face up on the floor now."

Laura pulled her head away, stared at Sam, and slowly wiped her lips. But after a pause, she obeyed, lying down on the living room floor.

"Okay. Sit down on her face, big boy." Sam winked at Chris. "Facing me."

She watched as he gingerly squatted astride his wife's gorgeous features.

"Now grind down on her face!"

*** *** ***

Two weeks later, Sam moved in.

Officially, she was their rent paying 'lodger' in the third bedroom. But in reality, Sam took the master suite, Chris moved to the guest room, and Laura was relegated to the small bedroom-study.

Sam used their bathroom and Chris and Laura shared the guest shower-toilet.

Their relationship had moved on apace. Chris now wore a shiny new Steelwerx Extreme chastity tube 24/7. Its measurements were tailored to his size. He worked in an accountancy office in a well cut suit. His pleated trousers hid the steel cock-cage from view. He sat down to pee in the mens cubicles and he'd aroused no suspicions in his colleagues yet.

Sam cut back most of her roster of fitness clients apart from a few favourites. She took up residence as a lady of leisure. She decided that Laura would immediately quit her 3 days a week sales assistant job in an upmarket department store, so she could become a fulltime housemaid. Sam advised them that, with some cutbacks, they could all survive on Chris's income alone.
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