You grab my hips, grounding me. “Not yet, love,” you say. I take a few deep breaths. I know it will be that much more amazing if I hold out. I l...e on my back and you tie my hands over my head. You bend my knees, pushing them out, and tie them to the side of the bed. I have a little slack, not much. I can’t straighten my legs. You slide a pillow under my ass. You test it; you push my legs up a little. You whisper in my ear, “Mmm, perfect access to that juicy pussy and inviting ass.” You push. I had just finished putting the groceries away and changing the load of laundry when she walked into the house.“Everyone’s gone already?” Bethany asked.“Just you and me! I took Stephie to the airport this morning,” I said.“Did you fulfill her Thanksgiving wish?” she smirked.“She called you?”“Yesterday. She wanted to talk about your rule before she asked you to violate it. She’d been agonizing about it for over a week and couldn’t make up her mind. I assume you did the right thing?”“I’m pretty. ”“Your birthday is not until next week, 7/14! “ He pouted; she pretended to protest for a moment then grinned her agreement. They ignored me as the third wheel. She leaned over and whispered to me, “Does he really not know his birthday, Bastille Day and National Nude Day are all the same day? We can have fun with that.”Beaming, he asked, “OK, Sue, name the capitals of the first American thirteen colonies.” Stumped, she couldn’t name any. He turned her toward me and began unbuttoning the blouse. But in all of these instances, I cannot imagine her enjoying any of the actual activity beyond her basic desire to correct a bad behavior. So far, my favorite plotline around a plausible scenario is as follows: A married man finally decides to act out his Femdom fantasies by going to a professional dominatrix. He finds an interesting ad for dom services in a local paper and makes an appointment. When he arrives, he finds, to his horror, that the dominatrix is a friend of his wife’s..