"What??" I asked. My voice sounded unnaturally high.

"I said that things are going to change around here." The look on her face left no doubt that she meant it. Things WOULD change. "I'm taking control. You've fucked up our marriage with your little affair," she spat, "and if you want to save it, you'll do everything I tell you."

Her eyes still showed the hurt and anger of the night before, when I'd finally confessed that I'd been unfaithful. I guess I should have just kept my fucking mouth shut, but I had this crazy notion that if I got it all out into the open, she'd forgive and forget, and that would be the end of it.

"I see. What are you going to do?" I kept my voice even, despite the churning of my stomach. She had every right to walk out the door, and as I was no longer filled with the virtuosity of confession, the guilt pressed down on me.

"Ah shit, Dave. I don't know yet, but you'd better be prepared. I'm not ready to just pat your head and tell you 'thank you for screwing up our lives.' I can't believe you did this to me."

She sounded bitter and confused, and I felt like a complete ass. Why is it that you can justify just about anything to yourself while you are on an emotional high, then, when the truth sets in, you plummet to the depths of your depravity .

"I know. I'm so sorry, Carrie." I tried to hold her, but she yanked out of my grasp, and walked quickly away.

The next three days were hell. Carrie would hardly even look at me, and the misery and guilt piled up even higher. I tried to make it up to her by bringing her flowers, but the look she gave me made it plain that my effort was wasted. I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I hoped I'd wake up one day, and everything would be the way it had been before - before my conscience got the better of me, and I confessed my unfaithfulness. How stupid.

The next day, Carrie looked at me strangely. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head. She smiled at me gently, and I felt an immense relief spread through my body. It would be okay.

She spoke quietly, but with every word, the relief seeped out and dread took it's place. The affair had lasted three months, and as Carrie revealed her plan, I realized that she wanted revenge for every single day of that period.

"Okay Dave, here's the deal. I've arranged to work from home for the next ninety days. I've also contacted Dwight Belmont, and they've given you an equivalent leave of absence." My jaw dropped open, and I stared at her in complete shock.

Dwight Belmont was the law firm I'd been working at for the past eight years. I was very close to making partner before this whole debacle, and now I saw my entire professional life swirling down the drain.

"What the fuck did you tell them?" I roared.

Carrie looked at me coldly and snapped, "Shut up, Dave. You made this mess, I'm cleaning it up. From now until these three months are over, you will defer to me in every decision. You will not question my motives, nor my actions. Is that clear?"

This was a new side to her, one that I'd never even suspected existed. Her eyes sparkled dangerously, and there was a cruel little curve to her lips. The little bitch was enjoying this. The strange thing is, so was I. She looked so sexy. I felt my cock stir in my pants at the way she sat, looking every inch the boss.

"Carrie, I understand that I really screwed up, but I can't take three months off. I'd be ruined."

She just sat there looking at me. She didn't utter another sound. I started to squirm, while she looked fresh and totally in control. I'd always wondered what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of the silent treatment - it was a favorite ploy of mine in the court-room. It was horrible. The ticking of the wall clock seemed louder as we sat across from each other; she calm and collected, me getting more uncomfortable with each jerky movement of the second hand.

Finally, I broke. "Yes, dear. I understand."

She smiled with only the tinniest indication of arrogance, and continued as if the silence had been a figment of my imagination. "I assume you felt the need to play around because the excitement had gone out of our own sex. You were right, of course. It wasn't satisfying to either of us."

I was stunned. Our sex had always been exciting, I'd just been stupid and wanted a little fling. She felt it was lacking? Why the hell hadn't she told me?

"So," she continued, "we are going to add some spice to our lives. Well, mine anyway. Strip."

I looked at her dumbly. "Strip?"

She sighed and repeated, "Strip. Get naked. Take off your clothes. Is that a difficult concept?"

Once again I felt my cock stir at this new side of my wife. I stood up and began removing my clothes, piece by piece. When I finally stood naked before her, she got up from her chair and circled my body. Her eyes raked over every inch of my skin, her gaze lingering here and there. My shaft twitched and rose as she concentrated on my rapidly growing erection.

"Hmm, you like this, do you?" She lightly scraped her fingernails down my stomach, then dug them sharply into the fleshy skin just above the base of my cock. My heart pounded furiously in my chest as she moved her hand farther down. By this time, my cock was very hard. Damn, this was sexy. Why hadn't I known she could be so commanding?

She cupped my balls in the palm of her hand, then closed her fist. Not gently, but hard, crushing them in her fist. Stars exploded behind my eyes and I felt lightheaded from the arch of agony that spread through my entire body.

"Jesus!" I cried out, and tried to move away from her punishing grasp. She responded by another spasm of her hand on my rapidly swelling balls. I dropped to my knees in excruciating pain and the sudden onrush of fear.

I whimpered as the pressure eased, and she began a slow massage. She stood above me, fully dressed and in total control. My eyes were level with her slim hips, and I could smell her musky scent. Oh no, she was getting turned on.

I reached out to touch her stocking-clad thigh. It was smooth and warm to my fingertips. I trailed my hand upward, slipping it under the tight black material of her skirt. As I reached the moist crotch of her panties, I was pushed violently backwards by her foot. I felt a blossom of pain on my right nipple from her sharp stiletto heel.

"Did I give you permission to touch me, Dave? I don't recall doing so. Just lay there like a good boy. You wanted something a little different, a little exotic perhaps? Well, you're getting your wish."

I watched in stunned silence as Carrie went to her purse and pulled something thick and black out of it. My heart was pounding erratically as she knelt beside me, and fastened a thick dog-collar around my neck. Next, she clipped a leash to the back and pulled me to my feet.

This was incredible. My cock was throbbing painfully as Carrie led me around the living room. Thick drops of moisture ran down the length of my shaft and seeped slowly down the inside of my thighs as she paraded me before the open windows of our home. I was buck naked, with an enormous hard-on, and anyone that happened up the sidewalk in front of our house would see me.

Abruptly, she stopped in front of the big bay window. My body was turned sideways to the glass, and my prick stood out strongly. Carrie dropped into the chair in front of me, and opened her legs. I saw the way her pubic hair curled around the elastic of the wet crotch of her panties. I started to move toward her.

"Stop!" She snapped the leash hard against my chest. "You stay right where you are, Dave. You may watch, but you can't touch me. You aren't allowed to touch yourself either, unless I tell you that you can."

She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pulled them slowly down her hips. Carrie has a beautiful pussy, and watching it glimmer with her wetness is really arousing. The moisture coming from the tip of my cock kept steadily dripping. I was so fucking turned on. I wanted to plow into her, pummeling her until she begged for mercy. But she wouldn't allow it, and that thought turned me on even more.

"These are the rules," her hand slipped lightly up and down the inside of her thighs, moving from stockings to damp skin and back again. "You will not wear clothing while you are at home." She slipped a finger through the tight, wet curls at the apex of her thighs. "You will always wear your collar, if not around your throat, then around your thigh. The ONLY time you will touch me, is if I invite your touch specifically."

I heard her voice, but the words really didn't register. My whole body was tingling with need and desire as I watched my wife play with her pussy. Her hand dipped between the folds of her pussy and slid back and forth. My lips felt dry, my throat swallowing convulsively as her voice began to shake while she continued the list of rules.

"You will be my pet, my slave. You will fulfill my every wish, no matter how much it may embarrass you, or how uncomfortable it makes you. Is that understood?"

Her fingers moved faster, swirling around her clit. I felt myself panting with lust as I watched her eyes roll back. I nodded mutely. I would have agreed to anything by this time.

"Come here."

She yanked hard on the leash, and I stumbled toward her. She stopped my momentum with her foot. She was still wearing the stilettos, and she ground her foot into my crotch. Oh God. I almost came the moment I felt the delicious pressure of her heel in my groin.

"Kneel."

Her command was accompanied by another yank on my leash, and I dropped to my knees. The urge to touch myself was almost overpowering, and my hand went toward my cock. She jammed her heel into my crotch again and hissed.

"I said," she emphasized each word with a little jab of her foot, "don't... touch... yourself. Lie back."

Another little push, and I found myself on my back in the middle of the living room floor, with Carrie standing over me.

Her skirt was bunched up around her hips, and her pussy was open and gleaming. She moved up so she was directly above my face. She squatted down, until her cunt was mere inches from my nose and mouth. Her scent was irresistible: strong, musky, and so uniquely hers. My tongue flicked out and lashed against her clit. She moaned, but pulled herself away from my lips.

"No. Don't fucking touch me, Dave. Not unless I give you permission." This was nuts! I was squirming on the floor, my cock felt like it was on fire, and every single move she made, had me wanting more of her abuse. I groaned, but kept my tongue inside my mouth.

"Carrie... please?" My voice was husky with need, and I saw Carrie shudder. She shot me a look that I interpreted to mean she recognized how tightly I was controlling myself, and the thought pleased her. I felt exhilarated and ashamed at my guilty pleasure at the same time. Where was the macho guy who was always in control of our sexual encounters? The man who set the pace and only cared whether it was satisfying for me? Jesus, if only I'd known how hot Carrie was, things might have been different.

Finally, Carrie moved back down my body, dragging her sopping wet pussy across my chest. I realized that she was grinding her clit on my ribcage as she went, and I had to clench my teeth to stop the onrush of orgasm. This was getting to be too much to handle.

She reached my hips, and stopped. I could feel the steady drips of her pussy juice splash against the tip of my cock. I leaned up and watched greedily as she positioned herself over me, and sank slowly downward. Ahhhh, Christ she was so hot, so wet and tight.

She took me hard and fast. Every time I tried to raise up and meet her thrust, she uttered a sharp, "No," and stopped moving until I stayed completely still. I was in agony. I wanted so much to fuck *her*, to take *her*, instead of the other way around. She was using me. She was using me for her pleasure, and it was so damn arousing. I loved seeing her this way. She was like a tigress, taking what she wanted without giving an inch.

My fingers dug into the pile of the carpet as she gyrated on top of my cock. I could see the hem of her skirt growing wetter and wetter as she rocked and bounced. The contrast of her fully clothed body and my completely naked one was humbling, especially as I was still wearing the leather collar and leash. I truly was her pet, and I was in ecstasy.

"Is this the kind of excitement you wanted, Dave?" The words were interspersed with little grunts as she fucked me.

"How do you like the new Carrie? The one that is going to tell you every step you are allowed to make for the next three months."

"Oh God, Carrie." My words were barely audible over the wet sounds of her pussy coming down on my swollen cock. "I'll do whatever you tell me. Just don't fucking stop."

Carrie started moving faster, grinding herself on top of me. I tried once more to thrust my hips upward, but this time, Carrie slapped my hip with a stinging blow.

"Don't move, damnit!" I whimpered.

The slap hurt, but it turned me on even more. I bit my lip to stop from grabbing her and fucking the shit out of her. I felt her hands dig into my shoulders and I saw the cords of her neck stand out in sharp relief against her strained muscles. She was coming. I couldn't move. This was pure torture.

Her movements slowed, then stopped completely. I was still hard and throbbing inside of her wildly convulsing cunt. I needed to come, but without the ability to thrust, I couldn't. Carrie must have seen the pain in my eyes, because she pulled off of me and stood over me again. She looked down at my dark-red cock and placed her foot against the underside, pressing it forward, until it lay stiffly against my heaving stomach. Then she started massaging me with her shoe. The heel dug into the base of my cock, and the sole pressed hard on my shaft. She applied more and more pressure, sending jolts of mixed pain and pleasure up my spine. Finally, she stepped fully on that foot, driving her heel deep into my balls.

Fuck! I saw stars exploding as I screamed. My cock started spewing thick globs of come all over my face and chest. Carrie laughed as a thick jet coated my eye. I felt a hot rush of humiliation that she'd made me come this way. Carrie stepped back and picked the leash up from the floor. She tugged on the leather, and I got shakily to my feet.

"You did well, my pet. Now come give me a bath, and get me all clean for tonight."

"Yes ma'am." I replied, the whole time thinking that these three months might not be so bad after all.