Once a Domme, Always a Domme - Part 2

Click here to read the first part of the story.

 "The guy at the restaurant...what was he into?"

That was me asking the question. It was four days after I learned of my wife's past as a professional dominatrix. We honestly hadn't talked much about it - it was a busy week - but the thought popped into my head as we strolled through the park, each of us with a coffee we'd picked up at our favorite local spot.

"He had a thing for getting fucked," she answered.

"Sorry, what?"

Lily smiled and laughed softly. "Yeah. He liked being penetrated. He liked the humiliation of being put in bondage and fucked, of being made to feel like he had no choice in the matter, like I was going to take his ass and do as I pleased with it whether he wanted me to or not."

I'll admit that I was a little bit dumbfounded.

"That wasn't all I did with him, of course. I used to make him work for it. I'd make him do other humiliating things before I'd put him in some form of bondage and violate him."

There was a quality to her voice that I found intriguing. She seemed delighted with herself as she recalled her domination of this anal-loving submissive. Honestly, I think she felt a sense of professional pride, like she was remembering how good she was at the job of dominating submissive men.

"What sort of humiliating things?" I asked.

"Oh, all kinds of stuff. Bark like a dog. Get on all fours and crawl around while barking. Lick my boots. Suck on the heel of my boots. Verbally degrade himself. Once I made him drink his piss."

That one astounded me. I guess all of it kind of astounded me, in no small part because the woman that made a man do all those things to himself did not seem like the woman I'd married.

"And he did it? He drank his piss."

Lily sipped her coffee, smiled, and nodded. "He loved it, too. I mean, he hated the taste - who wouldn't? - but he loved that I'd ordered him to do it and that he was having to drink his piss to earn the right to be fucked by his domme."

Again her face lit up with what I'm certain was a sense of pride.

"How did you come up with that stuff? With the humiliating stuff you made him do, I mean."

"It was just experience, really. I'd been domming for a few years by the time he came in so I'd learned about the kinds of things guys were willing to do when they had a humiliation kink. I didn't always get it right. There were times when guys flat-out refused to drink their piss because they found it so disgusting."

She paused, sipped her drink, and then looked up at me and smiled before adding, "I suppose, though, that I also have a brain that's capable of thinking up all kinds of wild stuff like that. I mean, it's probably not crazy to think that most women really wouldn't have enjoyed that job and that I actually did enjoy it. I never found it weird or stressful or annoying. There were a few bad clients here and there, but mostly I had a good time exploring the world of submissive kink with men that were willing to pay me very well for the privilege of playing out their fantasies."

As we walked through the park I felt a strange kind of jealousy towards the men that Lily had dominated. Not because I was desperate to play out a kinky fantasy, but because they clearly got to know a part of my wife that I didn't know. I mean, I never would have guessed she'd worked that job or that she'd actually enjoyed it, that she'd been great at it.

"So how did you fuck the guy?" I asked. Despite the jealousy - which was fairly mild - I remained intensely curious about Lily's previous profession.

"I had a collection of dildos. Sometimes I'd use something like a cucumber if it felt a little more humiliating. There were a few times that I put on these elbow-length gloves and fisted him. His favorite thing was to be fucked by a strapon, though."

I'd heard of strapons (who hasn't?) but I'd never imagined Lily using one. The thought was oddly intriguing, though I had no desire to be penetrated in that way.

"So he liked you to wear a strapon and fuck him?"

She nodded, took my hand, and led me towards a bench that offered a particularly beautiful view. A couple walked by and Lily leaned over to kiss my cheek softly before answering once the couple had moved past us.

"He loved it, actually. He liked the role reversal. He liked the loss of control. He liked the humiliation of being a man that was bent over and fucked by a woman. He liked feeling my fingers dig into his hips as I pounded him. He liked when I'd grab a handful of his hair and smack his ass and call him names as my strapon moved in and out of him."

Lily was admiring the view as she talked about fucking this guy and I was staring at her and I'm almost certain I saw her get aroused. I'm not necessarily talking about an intense kind of sexual arousal, but I'd have bet anything that her heart was beating a little faster, that her senses were aroused, that she probably a little bit turned on, which was the most fascinating thing in the world to me.

"Did you like fucking him?" I asked.

She looked at me and I was certain that I saw arousal in her eyes. Arousal at re-living a memory that it was entirely possible she hadn't accessed for years. I wasn't entirely sure what to do with my certainty of her arousal, but there was a part of me that wanted to nurture it, if for no other reason than Lily's arousal often meant an orgasm for me.

She hesitated for a few seconds before smiling, nodding, and looking away once more. "I did, actually. I know that might sound weird - maybe it is weird - but it was enjoyable. There was something...primal about it. It was actually the first time I truly understood why so many men love to take a woman from behind. I obviously can't fully understand what a man is thinking, but there's definitely something distinct about someone being bent over in front of you, especially when that someone is eager to be fucked."

You don't expect to have a conversation with your wife about the merits of doggystyle sex. You definitely don't expect to have that conversation where she's talking about being the one doing the fucking, about reversing roles with a man and finding pleasure in doing so.

We were having the conversation, though, and I couldn't help but imagine my wife standing behind a man - a man in bondage of some kind - and grabbing a handful of his hair and spanking his ass while fucking him vigorously in doggystyle.

"What kind of names did you call him?" I asked.

"Nothing unusual," Lily replied with a smile. "Slut. Bitch. Whore. The kinds of words men use to degrade women, really. He liked being degraded in that way, especially when he was getting fucked."

I don't know why I was so curious, but I just kept asking questions. "You said you'd put him in bondage. What kind of bondage?"

"Sometimes I'd bind him to the spanking bench. Sometimes I'd used the St. Andrews Cross, which is just this really big X-shaped device that had cuffs for wrists and ankles. Sometimes I'd just cuff his hands behind his back and make him get on his knees on a chair or couch if the room had one. Sometimes I'd leave him totally free and tell him that he wasn't allowed to touch himself while I fucked him and then I'd beat his ass if he broke the rule and touched himself."

It struck me that having that particular conversation with Lily was a lot like talking to an entirely different woman from the one I'd been married to. It was just so far from the kind of woman I thought she was, though I suspect that's what made it so fascinating to me.

"None of this bothers you to hear?" she asked as a sense of vulnerability came over her. I could see it in her eyes, in her lips, in the slight change in her posture. She was worried.

"Honestly, it's fascinating," I answered. "It's like there's this version of you that I've never met before, you know? This version of you that I now get to know. It's kind of like when we were first dating. So in that way it's really sort of amazing."

Lily sipped her coffee, smiled, and scooted closer on the bench. I put my arm around her and she rested her head against my neck and shoulder and we sat like that for a little while without saying a word to each other.

Then she shifted and kissed my neck. A soft moan accompanied the kiss. Her lips lingered against my skin and parted just a little so I felt a hint of warmth. It was not a casual kiss. It was seductive. There was no question it was seductive. It worked, too, as my pulse instantly quickened and I felt a delightful tingling between my legs that led to my cock growing just a bit.

The moment her lips left my neck I turned and looked at Lily. Our eyes met and I leaned down for a kiss. She rested a hand on my thigh and her fingers inched towards my crotch in a public-friendly way. However, the way our tongues entwined was the sort of thing that usually happened in private and it was more than enough to render my cock completely stiff.

"Wow," was all I said when the kiss ended.

"I know," she replied before resting her head against my shoulder once more.

She was turned on. There was no question about that. She wouldn't have kissed me like that if she wasn't turned on. The thing I wondered, though, was the source of that arousal. Was she turned on by thinking about fucking one of her former clients? Had she imagined it and gotten all hot and bothered? Was she thinking about fucking the guy I'd seen at the restaurant while we were kissing?

"Did it turn you on to fuck him?" I asked after a short spell of silence between us.

Lily remained still for a few seconds. Then she leaned away, looked at me, and admitted, "Yes, it did. Not always, but sometimes it did. I'm not even sure I could explain why, but when everything fell into place there were times when it was arousing to fuck him."

For some reason I felt aroused at her admission. I really couldn't tell you why. Perhaps it's because I was already turned on and something about the look on her face or the admission itself provided a little more fuel to the fire of my desire.

I kissed her again, though. I really went for it, too. I was a deep, passionate kiss. I let my hand roam a little. I stopped just short of grasping her breasts in public, but she moaned into my mouth as my hand roamed her body and her tongue got a little more active.

Lily looked giddy when I finally leaned back. She took my hand in hers and squeezed it hard. I was pretty giddy, too. There's something about making out with your wife in public that feels really good.

"You know, you once fucked me right after I'd seen him," she said.

"What? Really?" I asked with a smile.

Lily nodded. "We'd been dating for a few months. It was a Wednesday night. I'd put him on the St. Andrew's Cross and fucked him in a standing doggystyle with this fairly sizable strapon. I'd told him he wasn't allowed to cum for two weeks prior to our session and he'd obeyed like a good boy."

She got more excited as she talked and I couldn't help but get a little caught up in it. There was something especially intriguing about the phrase 'good boy' and the way Lily seemed to relish saying it when referring to her former client.

"I fucked him to an orgasm," she said, eliciting a surprised look from me. "I had my body pressed against his as I fucked him with the fat strapon. He could feel my breasts against his back and the heat of my breath on his neck. I was telling him what a good slut he was for me, that he was taking my dick like the anal whore I'd trained him to be."

Never in my life had I imagined I'd find any kind of pleasure in hearing my wife talk like she was talking in that moment, but I swear that my cock continued to throb in a way I found a little bit baffling, though that bafflement did not stop the arousal from washing over me.

"He told me he was going to cum. I couldn't believe it, honestly, but it was so thrilling to be able to do that for him, to make him feel so good that he would cum without touching his cock. So I let him cum. I told him to cum like a good slut, like a good little anal whore."

There was no question Lily was getting turned on. More turned on, I suppose. Her nipples were now hard. Her chest was a little bit flushed. Her eyes were a little wider open. It was sexy, though.

"After cleaning up - which I made him do - I changed into a dress and called you. I told you I wanted to come over."

"And you were on me the moment you walked into my apartment," I said as the memory of that night flooded back.

Lily nodded. "I was."

I couldn't help but smile. "So you fucked this guy, made him cum, and were turned on enough by the experience to come right to my apartment so I could fuck you?"

She nodded again and for a moment I saw that same look of worry on her face. I answered that worry by kissing her. A deep, passionate kiss. A kiss that made it perfectly clear that I wasn't the slightest bit upset about her confession.

"The sex was amazing that night," I said. "You were on top, if I remember correctly."

"I was," she whispered as our lips remained close.

"You were incredible. You were so wet. You were so...passionate. A little wild, in fact."

She kissed me again. Our tongues entwined. She moaned. Then she grabbed my cock and stroked me for a few seconds, to my surprise and delight.

"Can we go home?" she asked.

We had to wait a few minutes for my cock to soften, but once I could walk without drawing attention we headed home. We rushed, too, stopping short of running through the park to get to the car. We did a little more kissing once we were in the car, but mostly I drove with great haste to get us home as quickly as possible.

We rushed to the bedroom and stripped each other naked. We kissed. We touched. She stroked my cock. I fingered her pussy and rubbed her clit. We fell into bed together. Our bodies entwined as our tongues did the same.

Eventually Lily got on top and took me inside her. She smiled, sat up, and put her hands on my chest. She rocked her hips back and forth, slowly teasing me with her pussy while moaning at the way her clit rubbed into my pelvis.

"That night...when you came over, did you think about fucking him while we were having sex?" I asked.

Lily nodded. "A little. It was all a jumble. I thought more about how good it felt to have him in that position, to be honest. To have him in bondage. To have him so vulnerable. To have him so eager to be taken, to be fucked."

She dug her fingernails into my chest, closed her eyes, and rocked her hips a little faster.

"Are you thinking about fucking him right now?" I asked.

"Yes," she said without opening her eyes.

That was the first moment where I wondered - if only for a split second - if Lily had found more pleasure in being a domme than she was willing to admit to. Yes, she'd done it as a job, but it seemed entirely possible that she'd found her job far more fulfilling than most women that get into that line of work. The thought was only with me for a moment, though, as I was inside my wife and hugely aroused so there wasn't really any time for intellectualizing.

"Does it feel good to think about it?" I asked. "To think about fucking him? To think about him being a good slut for you?"

Lily smiled and leaned down. Her pussy began to bounce up and down on my cock as our lips met and our tongues entwined once more. She moaned and then kissed my cheek, my chin, and my neck, adding another moan before gently sucking on my flesh.

"Yes, it feels good," she whispered. "It feels good to relive those memories, to think about pounding his ass, to think about calling him an anal whore while his moans filled the room, to think about my body pressed against his, to think about making him cum while I fucked him like a slut."

I felt the jealousy again. This time, though, it was more significant. I was jealous that this man I didn't know - that I'd seen only once - occupied a particular place in my wife's mind. I was jealous that her memory of him was arousing her in that moment.

I'm pretty sure the jealousy is what spurred the thing that happened next. It certainly didn't happen consciously. It wasn't something I wanted to happen.

You see, something popped into my head. An image, I suppose. An image of me in the guy's place. Of me bound in my wife's dungeon space. Of me on the St. Andrew's Cross. Of me with her strapon in my ass. Of me with her breasts pressed against my back. Of me being called a slut and an anal whore. Of me being fucked and arousing my wife by taking her strapon like he took her strapon.

I was caught up in a really intense level of arousal in that moment and that arousal led to that image popping into my head. It also led to me saying something, to me effectively verbalizing what was in my head.

"Would it turn you on to fuck me like that? Would it turn you on to have me in bondage, to have your strapon inside me, to fuck me so good that you made me cum?" I asked. Honestly, the jealousy was part of it. Maybe even a big part of it. The imagery was another part of it, though, imagery that was dancing in my head as those words left my lips.

I regretted it the moment I said it. I really did. I was absolutely certain I had completely ruined the mood by mixing past and present, by acting weirdly jealous.

Then, Lily answered.

"Yes," she said softly. "Fuck...yes!"

Then I came inside her. I grunted and groaned and she sat up, looked at me for a moment, and ground her hips with such vigor that she was soon cumming. Her orgasm joined mine and we both climaxed while the question I'd asked lingered in both our minds (well, my mind at least, though it was mostly lingering because I was still embarrassed at having asked it).

After her orgasm, Lily leaned down, kissed me softly, and rested her head in the crook of my neck. I ran my hands down her back, gave her ass a quick squeeze, and then wrapped my arms around her.

"I enjoyed that very much," she said softly.

"Me too," I replied.

For a short spell I was deeply self-conscious about what I'd said. Embarrassed, too. I was worried about what Lily would think of me. I was worried we'd have to get into a long and awkward conversation where I'd be unable to explain why I said what I said and why I found myself oddly aroused at all the things she'd talked about with regards to her client.

I mean, I honestly didn't understand my fascination with it and the sense of desire that overtook me as we had sex. It was all too new for me to even remotely comprehend it.

Thankfully, we didn't talk about it. Lily didn't mention it. Not a word of it. She just acted like we'd had good sex and that was all there was to it.

It was nice. Really nice. She didn't mention it in the days afterwards, either. Instead, she let me be the one to bring up her time as a domme again. I got there eventually. It took a little while, but I came around to it and brought it up again. I couldn't help myself.

As it turned out, I was exploring desires I didn't know I had and doing so through conversations about her former clients.

As it also turned out, I was unlocking something in Lily, something she would soon find it impossible to ignore.

I'll tell you all about it soon enough.