My Wish Was Her Command

Chapter Three-2

After a minute or two she stopped, and I breathed heavily while recovering from her lovely teasing. She’d never done anything quite like this before, and my d**k was simply pounding with the desire to erupt. I remained where I was because she had not indicated that I should do otherwise. I realized then that I felt she was in control of the situation, and of me. I further realized that I absolutely loved the idea. “Good,” she said, going back to caressing me as if reading my mind. “You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“And how about this?” she asked, suddenly making her hands into claws and raking them down my chest. I drew in a quick hissing breath at the sensation. “Ooo, was that a yes?” she asked with a smile, and did it again. This time she really dug in her nails—they were short, but still I felt them scraping my skin. One of the nails on her right hand scraped over my left n****e, a pain I’d never experienced and which turned me on even more.

“Aaahhhh... yes...” I gasped, my hips beginning to grind forward again.

“Well, I guess you do like it,” she said, eyeing the slight thrusting of my engorged shaft. “It looks like it’s almost enough to make you come.”

“Mm-hmm,” I muttered.

“And I’ll bet you’d also love some of this!” she said, reaching around with her right hand and giving my left ass cheek a resounding SMACK!

“Ah! Oh yes!” I panted.

“Well, let’s just give you some more, then,” she said and began slapping my ass while I ground my hips against her naked chest. The overwhelming sensations and the sight of my lovely wife naked, smiling and sweating beneath me, spanking me steadily, was going to send me over the edge.

I started moaning. “Ohhh... OOOHHH...”

Just as I was about to come all over her chest and face with a mighty explosion, she gently pushed me back off of her and said, “Oh no, you don’t.” I rolled onto my side, thinking that she just wanted me to come somewhere else, but she said, “Up! Up and out of bed! No coming for you yet!” She grabbed all the blankets then and covered herself, curling up as if to go back to sleep.

“What do you mean?” I asked the pain of desire still intense in my loins, even though my actual erection was now fading a bit.

“You know what I mean. You’ve had enough pleasure for the moment. We’re trying something new. I did tell you that I had some ideas, remember? Well, this time I didn’t wait to ask you first. I’m just telling you what we’re doing. If you want me to keep on giving you the spankings you love so much, you need to do some things my way.”

“Oh. Well, okay, I guess. But... you’ll come back to me later, right?”

“Don’t you worry about that,” she answered. “All you need to know right now is that I am going to decide when you come next. Not you. All that sperm in your balls is just going to have to wait until I’m good and ready to let you release it. Now go take a shower. And don’t you dare jerk off in there.”

“Oh, fine...” I mumbled, frustrated yet totally excited, completely hot for this wife of mine who had taken charge of my orgasm.

I showered—with more than a little cold water mixed in with my usual hot—and went back into the room to throw on some clothes. Justine was snoozing lazily. “Hey, honey, how about some breakfast?” I said, kissing her hair.

“Great idea,” she said, stretching and writhing. “Why don’t you let me know when it’s ready? I’ll just sit up here and read for a little while.”

“Okay,” I said, smiling. We normally cooked together, but she was continuing her role of subtle control. She knew how desperate I was for more s*x, and she knew that I’d certainly cook her breakfast. With the pounding yearning that had not completely left my groin but had instead shifted to a background feeling of desire and love that would be at the back of every thought and action until it found release, I’d pretty much do anything for her—and she knew it.

Therefore, I went downstairs, heated up a couple of pans and started some coffee. I made bacon and omelettes and toast, then poured some juice and carried it out to the coffee table in front of the couch, where we usually ate breakfast. Before bringing out everything else from the kitchen, I went up to tell Justine that she should come down to eat.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” she said, still reading her paperback. Then she glanced up at me and said, “And when I get down there, you’d better not be wearing any clothes.” Before I could reply, she went back to reading. I closed the door behind me and went into the downstairs office to strip naked.

As I made the first trip from the kitchen to the living room, I heard Justine coming down the stairs. I made sure to be carrying her plate and mug on my next trip. She had walked to the couch and turned to look at me before she sat down, so my timing was rewarded.

“Now that’s what I love to see,” she said. “My sexy naked husband bringing me breakfast. I do get spoiled...”

I smiled as she sat down, and I placed everything on the table before her. She closed her eyes and inhaled, leaning close to the plate. “Mmm, smells good. Now get the rest and let’s eat before it gets cold.”

I hurriedly brought out the remaining items and sat next to her, leaning in for a long kiss before we began our breakfast. We watched one of our taped TV shows as we ate. When the first advertising break came on, I picked up the remote and fast-forwarded through the commercials. By the time of the second ad break, though, Justine had finished her breakfast, and as I was about to skip some more ads, she took the remote from my hand. She leaned over and turned herself sideways a little, kissing my chest in various places while the ads played. Her warmth radiated into my naked skin as she pressed against me, her hands on my shoulders. I gasped and shuddered at her touch, at the smell of her hair as her head roved over my chest. The mundane commercials with their loud, annoying jingles made a surreal counterpoint to my wife’s attentions. Then our show came back on, and she immediately stopped and sat back where she had been, intently watching the TV once again.

It was agony to go cold once more after so much heat, but at the same time, it was tantalizingly wonderful. I felt like writhing and stamping my feet in frustration, but I took several gulps of coffee instead. My erection had just about subsided once more by the time the next ad came on, and this time she ran her hands over my chest and brushed my n*****s lightly, immediately making me swell again. Then she pinched both my n*****s quite suddenly and quite hard, and an involuntary “Ow!” escaped me.

“Oh, I’ve got your attention,” she said. “Good. Because I have something important to tell you. Whatever you do, do NOT come during this ad break.” I was still recovering from the pinches and trying to figure out what she meant when she lowered her head and took me in her mouth.

“Aaahhhhh... oooohhhhh...” I moaned loudly. “Ooohhh, it’s not fair! Jus—aaahhh!—Justine, this is... oohhhh...this is too—ngh!—much... ahhh...” She ignored my pleas and kept bobbing her head, her mouth oh-so-hot and sliding slickly over my swollen head, gliding up and down on my terribly aching c**k, and it felt sooo good, and I could not believe it was this good, and I could not believe she would not let me come, and oh God this was lovely, and it was f*****g torture.

I couldn’t stand it when she started making noises, her “mmmm, mmm” exclamations of delicious satisfaction vibrating her mouth. I was in heaven and hell, and I couldn’t hold on. I was going to let go and—

The last ad ended, the show was on again, and she removed her mouth and sat up, taking her hands off me and sipping her juice, staring intently ahead. My mind spun. I didn’t even know if I was awake anymore, or who I was for that matter, at least not for a few seconds. My whole body was electrified, and I felt like I had tingly light instead of blood in my veins. I took a few deep breaths and tried to focus on our show. Eventually, I came back down into myself and began to feel somewhat normal again, my stiffness returning to softness, that same background ache of lust now feeling like some kind of generator in my crotch, a stack of batteries that could power a whole city.

The show finally ended, and Justine picked up the remote to shut off the TV. “Now,” she said, “clear these dishes. I’m going to get ready to leave.”

“Okay. I’ll throw on some clothes.”

“No, you won’t,” she retorted. “You’ll bring these dishes out to the kitchen and then stand there and wash them naked. No clothes for you yet.”

“Uh... OK,” I said, starting to bring our breakfast things to the kitchen. I hadn’t thought much of making some quick trips to the kitchen without any clothes, just to bring out our breakfast things after Justine had told me to strip, but just standing there at the sink and doing the dishes was a different story. Our kitchen was bright and had low windows in two of its four walls. There was one house next door and two across the street that were visible from that room. I had no idea who might be staring in at me at any given time. And what if the mail carrier came? Our mailbox was on our house, next to the kitchen door.

As if sensing my reluctance somehow, Justine came into the kitchen. “Seems like you’re hesitating,” she said with a touch of firmness in her voice. “We’ve talked about that. Naturally, I’ll have to punish you for it. But for now, get over to that sink and start washing. I don’t care how many people see you naked.”

There was no use arguing—at least, not if I wanted to come anytime soon, and not if I wanted Justine to keep on participating in the spanking scenarios that I loved so much. So I accepted her command and began washing while she stood staring for some moments—to make sure that I was really doing it, I suppose. I heard her go upstairs.

I don’t think that anyone saw me, but I may never know for sure. After about ten minutes, Justine came back into the kitchen just as I was finishing up. I shut off the water and began toweling my hands. Justine came up to stand next to me and held a long wooden spoon in one outstretched hand. “You’re going to have to wash this, too,” she stated.

“But we didn’t use that this morning. It’s not dirty.”

“Not yet, it isn’t,” she said. “But there’s the little matter of your hesitating to wash the dishes after I first told you to come in here. Remember our rule about that? I believe that we had decided on ten swats. Hands on the counter.”

I certainly did not hesitate at this last instruction, but I did get a little worried. We had indeed agreed on ten as the number of strokes for hesitating that very first time on the couch. We’d never used a spoon, though, so I had no idea what ten strokes would feel like. She didn’t either, of course, which was why she said, “Now, let’s see how this does on that eager little bottom of yours.”

Without further ado, she began smacking my ass with the spoon, and from the very first, I knew that this was an effective instrument. She used a lot of momentum to flick the thing against my bare flesh, and the sting was immediate. The first “Ah!” was barely out of my mouth when the second one hit, and the rest came in rapid succession. She alternated cheeks but hit the same spot on each one so that I had a hot sore spot in the center of each buttock. “Ow! f**k!” I said after she had stopped, for the pain lingered.

“I’m glad you feel that,” she said, rubbing my ass with her hand. “I’ve been thinking that the spanks I’m giving you are too light. I’ve realized that my initial worries were all silly. I used to think that I was really hurting you, but now I know that you can take a lot more than I think. In fact, I know that you can take a lot more than you think. Lucky for you, I love you enough to persevere and give you just what you want, even if you yourself don’t yet know what it is.”