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Beginnings

Bobbi and Larry*

Bobbi and Larry had led an ordinary marriage for seven years. But when Bobbi took up taebo as an exercise, things began to change.

Larry noticed that Bobbi had become more sexually aggressive in bed and assertive around the house. Of course, he enjoyed her increased interest in sex. But he also found strange new feelings welling up inside him as a result of her new assertiveness. For the first time in his life, and without understanding why, he felt an irresistible urge to yield to her. To let her take have her way in even the most ordinary disputes.

One day, while she was away on a business trip, he was exploring the web to learn more about the feelings he had been experiencing lately. In the course of his exploration, he ran across the RWDDH website and was captivated. He wasn't sure about the housework part, but he quickly realized that this was the sort of relationship that he had been craving. He wanted to submit himself to his wife in every aspect of their life.

So he composed a long email to Bobbi explaining his feelings, pointing her to the website, and offering to submit himself to her. He even offered to clean the house while she was away.

When Bobbi received the email at her hotel that night she was immediately excited. Since taking up taebo, she also had experienced strange new feelings. For the first time in her life she felt empowered; she had been struggling to express herself without upsetting their marriage. When she followed the link to the RWDDH website she was intrigued. Here, finally, was a way she could express herself. She was all the more excited because Larry had similarly recognized the change in her and was already adjusting himself to it. She thought about assigning him the household chores, which they nominally shared but which tended, in practice, to fall to her. She had tried before to get him to do more housework to no avail but this seemed most promising.

She picked up the phone and called home. Larry answered, "hello?"

"Hi, Larry, this is Bobbi," she said. "I got your email."

There was silence on the other end for several seconds and then Larry offered defensively, "I hope you didn't find it too weird. I was just in a strange mood, I guess."

"No, no," Bobbi replied. "I thought it was really touching. I don't think you've ever said anything so honest before. Is this really what you're thinking?"

Again Larry paused, "it was just a thought."

"Well I think it is a beautiful thought," Bobbi offered.

"You do?" Larry began to shake with anticipation.

"I do. In fact, I've also been feeling differently lately and I really think we should explore your idea."

Bobbi spoke in her most authoritative voice, "I want to take you up on your offer. I want you to clean up the house and I want you to make sure all the dishes and done and the laundry is put away. Then, when I get home, if everything is in order, we'll spend some time together."

"Yes, ma'am," Larry replied with a mixture of sarcasm, joy, and a touch of trepidation.

"I'll arrive tomorrow at the airport and you can pick me up. You already have my flight schedule. I'll let the secretary know that I won't be needing a shuttle this time. OK?" she asked.

"OK," he replied. "I'll pick you up tomorrow and the house will be clean when you get home. God I want you so bad right now."

"Go take a cold shower and then start cleaning up the house," Bobbie said. "And Larry, one more thing. Get rid of those porno magazines in your drawer and those pictures on our computer. You won't be needing those anymore."

Larry winced, "yes, ma'am."

"Good night. I love you," she said.

"I love you," Larry replied.

That night, Bobbi could hardly sleep as she imagined Larry, back at home, toiling away at the housework. The thought of it made her shake. She wondered if this was just a phase, something that would pass in time. But it didn't feel like a phase. It felt like this was the way it always should have been. It felt natural. It felt right.

She wondered how far she could go as the head of the household. She already made more money than Larry. His consulting business had never taken off while her career had blossomed. It was her stock options that were providing for their retirement. It was she who had managed to pay off the house. Why shouldn't she make the financial decisions, then. Would Larry tolerate that? She logged on again and reread the RWDDH website and was convinced that she could persuade him. In fact, since he was only half employed as it was, why not have him become her househusband? He could split his time between keeping the house and his consulting business, which he did mostly out of the house anyway.

She sat down and made a list of things she wanted to change. She was in charge now. Things were going to be different.

Jane and Joe*

Joe was a porno junkie. He spent his nights browsing the web looking for free pics. His favorites were female domination sites, strong women with whips and chains.

Occasionally, he tried to introduce his wife, Jane, to his sexual fantasies. He bought her leather lingerie, a rubber suit, a paddle, handcuffs, clips, and various other BDSM props. He offered her his services for the weekend as "sex slave."

But each time she not only rejected his suggestions but also castigated him for trying to introduce such perversions into their peaceful home.

But when Joe stumbled on the RWDDH website, his intuition told him that this was different. Maybe, he thought, his wife might try something as toned down as this.

So one evening he printed out a copy and left it on her pillow for her to read. When she came to bed, she picked it up and skimmed through it. "What do you think of that," he asked as innocently as he could manage.

"Why do you keep giving me this stuff," she replied. "You know I'm not interested in this."

"But this is different," he argued. "You should read it with an open mind. Wouldn't you like me to do the housework for you?"

Reading it over a little more carefully this time, she looked up, "but I'm supposed to 'reward' you for doing the chores with sex. That's ridiculous. I'm not going to do that. Stop trying to drag me into your sexual fantasies?"

She tossed the printout in the trash. Joe left it there that night but the next day he retrieved it and put it on her nightstand. Thereafter, a game ensued. She would toss it at night and he would retrieve it in the morning.

Meanwhile, Jane thought about the concept now and again. As absurd at it seemed to her, she was intrigued by it. She wondered what it would be like to live such a marriage, to be the female head of the household. To wield erotic power over a compliant husband.

She began to fantasize about Joe doing the housework while she relaxed and watched tv.

Eventually, Joe gave up and put the printout in the drawer of his nightstand. He visited the website from time to time but slowly lost interest and hope.

One weekend, though, Jane became utterly frustrated with Joe. He had been promising to clean the garage for over a month but now she could barely get from her car to the door.

She stormed into the den where Joe was watching football with a beer in one hand and a pretzel in the other, "if you don't get off your fat ass and clean up the garage there's not going to be any more sex in this house, period!"

After recovering from his brief shock, Joe leaped to his feet and immediately set about not only to clean the garage but also the entire house.

Jane, seeing his reaction, reflected on the power of her authority. She remembered the website and suddenly, all her former inhibtions were swept away. "Why not?" she wondered. If that's what he wants and if that's what it takes, why not?

That night, when the two of them were in bed, Joe reached over and softly caressed Jane's breast. He was ready for sex. But Jane had other ideas. She brushed his hand aside and sat up. "Aren't I the one who should initiate sex," she asked. Joe stared blankly but he immediately thought about the RWDDH website. Could she be referring to that he wondered?

"But you did such a very good job of cleaning the house today," she continued. "Why can't you do that more often," she asked? Joe shrugged innocently but he began to shake with anticipation. Jane reached over and grasped his penis firmly in her hand and began to caress it. "I'd like you to take responsibility for cleaning the house from now on. Can you do that for me?" she asked.

Hardly able to contain his excitement, Joe answers simply, "yes!"

"And I'd like you to prepare breakfast and cook dinner and clean up afterwards. Can you handle all that?"

"Sure," Joe replied.

"That's very good," Jane said. "Now I want you to make love to me."

Indeed, Joe took up the housework with earnest if not competence. Jane patiently instructed him and in time he got the hang of it. His enthusiasm never waned but Jane made an extra effort to give him sexual gestures from time to time as he did the chores, a wet kiss or a pat on the crotch or just a flash of her breast.

As the days went by, Jane became accustomed to his dutiful attention and began to become comfortable with the situation. So comfortable, in fact, that she shared the transformation of their marriage with her best friend, then with another friend, and then another, until it seemed that everyone they knew knew about their new arrangement.

Joe felt increasingly boxed in as more and more of their friends learned about their role reversal. What had started as sexual fantasy and role playing had become all too real.

One night, while Jane was reading a book in bed, he opened a conversation: "I'm not sure I like this new situation between us. I'm having second thoughts about all this. I think I'd like to go back to the way things were before."

Jane rolled over, and looked quizzically at him without answering. Joe continued, "I mean, I really like doing things for you but I think maybe you were right before when you said that a marriage should be between two equals."

Without a word, Jane set her book aside and grasped his penis firmly in her hand. "Are you unhappy?" she asked directly staring into his eyes. Joe began to answer 'yes' but instead responded, "well, I just think I should have more say around the house. Maybe we should share the chores more."

Jane reflected on their situation, which, she reminded herself, was Joe's idea to begin with. The house was clean, the food was edible, and she was being treated like a Queen. Why, she thought, would she ever want to go back to the way things were before?

Jane replied, "actually, I rather like things the way they are right now. Don't you like taking care of me?" As Jane stroked his erect penis, Joe felt his determination slipping away. His gaze wandered from her eyes to her lips. He longed to kiss them. His gaze fell to her breasts, he longed to suck them. He began to wonder why he had even raised the issue with her. How could he have been so selfish?

Jane continued, "in fact, I was thinking that maybe we should take this a step further. I was thinking that maybe I should take control of our finances. We could take your name off our joint bank account and put the house and other property in my name only. What do you think about that?"

"I'm not sure about that," Joe replied. Jane gave an exaggerated pout and began to pull her hand away from his penis. Joe quickly added, "but maybe we should talk about it."

Jane smiled and began to stroke again, "yes," she said, "let's talk about it. I'd like to do it tomorrow. Let's drop by the bank on the way to work and take care of it there."

As her stroking increased, Joe let out a muttered, "yes."

"So from now on, I will take care of our finances. Your paycheck is already deposited directly into the account. I'll give you an allowance and you can come to me when you want to buy something. Okay?"

"Okay," Joe muttered.

"Let's start right now, then. Go bring me your credit cards and a pair of scissors."

Joe ran to his wallet and pulled out his cards. He grabbed a pair of scissors from the bathroom and returned to the bed.

"Now cut them up," Jane instructed, caressing his penis again.

As Joe cut the cards in half, one by one, Jane quickened her stroke of his penis. When at last all the cards had been destroyed, she pulled him onto her and guided him to enter her.

Cindy and Phillip*

Cindy had came to the end of her rope with Phillip but the problems had actually started three years ealier when they were married. Phillip had been a considerate, polite, giving, and thoughtful suitor while they were dating and during the year while they were engaged. But as soon as they were married, that all changed.

At first, Cindy actually thought he had misrepresented himself to her, her friends and her family in order to 'get her.' It was only after sharing her frustration with Carmen, her close friend, that Cindy came to a realization that Phillip had simply transitioned to his idea of a normal marriage based on his own family experience.

Philip's idea seemed to be that he was the boss in the family, that Cindy should do all the housework (except yardwork and some home repairs) and that he would earn the money and give orders and be waited on. He didn't bother to seduce Cindy. Instead, they would just have sex when and how he wanted.

But Cindy had a demanding job outside the home and so she did not have the time or the energy to wait on Phillip as he expected.

As a result their sex life had become infrequent and lousy and their love and companionship was just as bad. Phillip was flirting with an affair.

All this came to a head over the Christmas holidays. As they went to visit each of their families his whole "Lord of the house" and his faithful female servant routine intensified and Cindy began to harbor constant divorce fantasies. They survived the holidays only because she bit her tongue every day.

After the holidays had passed, Cindy shared her frustrations with her friend Carmen. It was only by virtue of their conversations that a divorce was averted.

Throughout their discussions they joked about turning the tables on Phillip. Wouldn't it be nice, Carmen suggested, if Cindy became "Lord of the household" and put Phillip in his proper place. As they explored this idea it began to transform from a joke into a goal. And when Carmen found the RWDDH website they turned that goal into a plan.

Cindy cooked a nice dinner serving snacks and wine while preparing it. She wore a blouse that she knew would catch his attention.

As the meal came to an end Cindy said, "you know, life has been kind of hectic for me lately. I've been so overwhelmed at work and doing stuff here that we haven't been having anywhere near as much sex as I'd like, and maybe not as much as you'd like." She paused noting that she had caught his attention.

Cindy continued, "If you agree to it, I'd like to have sex with you this evening in a different way. I'd like to do a lot of sexual foreplay the way I ask you to do it, and after you've done me, I'll do you."

Phillip mumbled a positive response and they set off for the bedroom.

But Phillip kept forgetting his promise. Each time he strayed from Cindy's direction she admonished him sharply, "No! remember what we agreed."

Cindy didn't climax from the foreplay, but she was so relieved and so happy that it was working that she had to work to keep from laughing out loud.

When she decided that it was time to "do him" she said, as planned, "okay, it's your turn." Immediately he rolled atop her in the missionary position. "Whoa! Remember, I do you, my way. You're going to love it," she instructed.

Again, Cindy had to remind Phillip repeatedly, but she put him into positions that allowed her control and played with his nervous system while snuggling and kissing. Finally, she directed him into a missionary position but up on his elbows not letting his weight bear on her. She controlled his pace slowing him considerably.

In the end, it was, by far, the best sex she'd had for months if not years and (probably as importantly) the best he'd had for a long time.

Cindy made the rule that he could ask, he could beg, and he could be affectionate, but she decided if, when and how and only she actually initiated sex. She and Carmen had worried that Phillip would resist her control. But Phillip quickly adjusted to Cindy's control of sex with barely whimper and followed her direction of their sex. Indeed, he even began to develop an erotic response to her control of sex.

And while Cindy was happy that their sex life had improved markedly and that Phillip was more attentive and affectionate, she also found that she loved her new power over him for its own sake.

A couple weeks after she had established her control of sex Cindy turned to the housework.

Again, Cindy met with Carmen and they carefully planned the evening analyzing the situation, guessing at Phillip's responses, selecting phrases and ways of saying things and actually rehearsing them. Carmen was a lot more confident in the result than Cindy was, but Cindy needed the result.

Cindy led up to the big day for a few days by dropping comments like "I really like being in control of [this or that]. I hope you can get into it because it makes me feel sexy," over such minor tasks as getting something from the garage for her.

Cindy planned to pose a direct question for which there was only a single acceptable answer. She would stick ot the question and Phillip would simply find that sex didn't happen until he gave the correct answer. It was a theatrical production as well as a conspiracy.

Again, Cindy prepared a nice dinner and wore a sexy blouse that allowed Phillip a stimulating view. At the end of dinner, in a sexy but authoritative voice, Cindy told Phillip that she "needed his thinking on something." That got his attention.

"I've got a problem," she continued. "It takes me about as long to prepare for work in the morning as it does you. We each get our own breakfast such as it is and we leave the cleanup for later. I communte about as long as you do, both ways. That's not the problem. The problem for me is, I do most of the shopping, errand running, after meal cleanup, bed changing, cooking, etc." Cindy went down through her prepared list.

"Actually," she paused and sat back in her chair, "that's not the real problem. The real problem is that I resent it being that way. I resent it a lot and it's causing both of us a lot of grief. I didn't resent it when I was single and living alone, but I do now. So I've been trying to figure out how to fix it." Carmen had noted that the phrase "fix it" appeals to men. "I could quit my job and do all that stuff, but I don't want to quit my job, I like working. You could quit your job and do all that stuff, but I doubt that you want to quit your job to do errands and house work. We could hire a maid, but that would cost in after tax money and we'd still have to do a lot of the errands and things. One other thing is, we could split the work. I'm hoping you'll either choose that one or think of something better because otherwise I'm having serious attitude problems. What do you think?" She was due an oscar for that perfect delivery and Carmen and she could share for screenwriting.

Phillip mumbled around and emitted a fog bank of not much. Cindy waited until he had finished mumbling and delivered the next prepared comments, "I don't know about you, but I like being horny. Having my way in sex is a real turn on, but this housework and errands stuff is really a problem." She leaned forward to play with a dish and let him look down her blouse. "Maybe you would be willing to try the same sort of thing there. Like, I'd decide who would do what. I know I'd like that, and I think you'd like it too. I think we'd both love the results." Phillip mumbled a half-hearted agreement.

Having anticipated that, Cindy sat there silently showing no emotion and paying close attention to Phillip. Then, after a long pause, she said, "oh well, it was worth a try." She got up from the dinner table, acting tired, and walked into the living room to watch TV, which she never did before. She could hardly keep from laughing as she thought about what Phillip must be thinking. What? No sex, dirty dishes, wife watching TV.

Phillip didn't say anything, but it wasn't five minutes before he was in the living room opening up the dialogue with a new sense of urgency. Well, he'd thought about it and Cindy was probably right. She looked surprised, increasingly pleased and finally said, "oh, Phillip, I'm so glad, you have no idea how much I like being in control of the situation." With that she led him to the bedroom for sex.

After allowing Phillip a fifteen minute rest, Cindy said, "okay, new modus vivendi in operation, let's both go clean up from dinner." Phillip began to mumble, as she had expected. She waited until he had finished, and then a long five seconds. With a tiny bit of anger and a fair amount of coldness she intoned, "I can't believe this. Maybe I'm not understanding something. We agree to something very important to us, then you reach a climax and amnesia sets in. What did I miss?" Phillip mumbled some more as Cindy listened and then waited another ten seconds of silence. "You don't like my idea, and you don't have any of your own. Fine! Just don't tell me stuff and then act like you didn't," she finished very sharply.

Cindy got up, put on a short t-shirt and slippers. Very sexy, but not appearing to be seductive, she ignored him, and went into the dining room and kitchen and started cleaning up. Less than five minutes later Phillip was in the kitchen "helping". She acted annoyed, "hey, you've said what you had to say, or have you?" He mumbled some more and tried to put his arms around her but she evaded him until he distinctly said that he wanted "to talk." With obvious doubtful reluctance she hesitated and then said, resignedly, "okay, I'm tired of this kitchen crap."

She took his hand and, in a not particularly friendly manner, lead him into the bedroom, she in her T-shirt and he in pants and a shirt. "Don't lie in bed with your clothes on," she instructed. Phillip dutifully striped to his shorts. She fought an urge to laugh at him as he laid down beside her. "Let me explain something. What we agreed to is this: I enjoy deciding what we do in sex, and you seem to enjoy it too. I think I'd enjoy deciding who does what in housework, and I think you'd like it a lot. What then happens is you reach a climax and won't help me with the dishes. I'm pissed, and I think you can see why."

Phillip and Cindy discussed it further going round and round. Each time, Cindy repeated what she wanted in the clearest terms without arguing, explaining, or complaining. Finally he said the magic words, "well, I could try it."

Cindy quickly flipped the switch and was suddenly the sexy wife again. They finished the dinner cleanup, she in her short t-shirt, him in his shorts. She flirted with him affectionately and he was happy and hopeful. When they finished she looked at him and said, "I must be wierd, watching you do what I say is like an aphrodisiac, let's go fool around."

Karen and Steve*

Karen was a typical modern housewife. She got up each morning, prepared breakfast for her husband and the kids. She got the kids up, dressed them, fed them, and dropped the them off at day care on her way to work. In the evening, she would pick the kids up, come home, prepare dinner for her family, and then clean up. Meanwhile, her husband would retire to the study to "work" on their home computer.

One day, while at work, Karen received an email from a friend with a pointer to the RWDDH website and a cryptic note, "wouldn't this be nice." When she visited the website she nearly wet her pants. There she found a detailed description of how a wife can transform her marriage through erotic power to become the dominant partner and to have her husband waiting on her every beck and call.

The thought of the wife running the household by exercising erotic power seemed, to her, to be at once absurd and perverse. But she was intrigued and thought about nothing else the rest of the day. She couldn't get it out of her mind.

That night, after the kids had gone to bed, Karen decided to experiment a little. She removed her bra and unbuttoned her blouse to reveal her cleavage. Then she went into the study and, leaning provocatively over her husband, gently brushed her breast against his shoulder. "May I use the computer?" she coyly asked running her hand roughly across his crotch.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he stuttered.

Karen sat at the computer and began to browse her favorite sites on the web. Steve waited behind her a couple minutes and then left to read a book in bed. That night, he made passionate love to her.

She repeated this exercise over the next several nights always with the same result. By the fourth night, when her husband left the dinner table, he went straight for his book leaving the computer untouched. "Wow," Karen muttered to herself.

That night, as he lay in bed reading, Karen mustered the courage to go further. She squirted a dab of KY Lubricant into the palm of her hand from the tube she had earlier purchased and placed on her bedside and, without any warning to her husband, lifted her leg up and over him so that she sat astride his thighs. Before he had a chance to react, she pulled his limp penis from his underwear and began to spread the lubrication over it. Steve pulled his book to his chest and looked up at her with disbelieving eyes. Karen had always been passive in bed rarely initiating sex and never so aggressively. He was incredulous but excited when he asked, rhetorically, with a slight quiver in his voice "what are you doing?"

Steve was quickly rock hard. She replied with a smirk, "I want to talk."

"What do you want to talk about," he asked only half-attentive to their conversation, closing his eyes slightly.

"How come you never help clean up after dinner?" she asked.

"I dunno," he replied lamely showing genuine confusion at the question. For a moment he forgot the pleasure of her massage and looked wide eyed up at her.

Karen leaned forward and looked him deeply in his eyes and asked again, "I want to know, why do you always leave the dishes for me?" This time, though, her stroking began to slow. Steve reacted instinctively with a short upward thrust of his hips. His gaze turned from curiosity to desperation. "Tell me," she repeated. "I want to know." She slowed her stroking to a halt.

"I guess I just assume you like to do them," Steve ventured without thinking.

"Oh," she replied, resuming her stroking. Steve felt a relief wash over him.

"Why would you think that I like to do the dishes," she persisted.

This time, Steve considered the question, trying to sort out an answer amid the growing distraction of her caress.

"Do you like me to play with your penis," she asked slowing the stroking again.

"Yes, I like that very much," he replied without hesitation.

"Then tell me," she continued. "Why do you assume that I like to do the dishes?"

As Steve struggled to sort out his thoughts, Karen once again slowed her stroking. Once again, he instinctively thrust his hips upward. At last he replied, "I guess I just assume that because you always do them."

With that, Karen quickened her pace a little.

"Isn't that a bit of circular logic?"

"I guess so. But you never really complained."

"Well I'm complaining now. I'd like you to help with the dishes. Can you do that for me?"

Distracted by her stroking, Steve hesitated. When Karen slowed her stroking he quickly replied, "yeah, sure."

"You promise?" she said with a smile, quickening her stroking of his penis.

"Yes, I promise."

"What do you promise?" she said stroking still quicker.

"I promise to do the dishes sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" she asked, slowing her stroking.

"All the time," he quickly corrected himself. "I promise to do the dishes all the time."

Karen climbed off Steve and lay back on the bed, "I want you to make love to me, Steve," she said with a huge sigh.

Steve quickly rolled atop her and entered her. "Tell me again, what do you promise," she asked as sought desperately to relieve his primal urge.

"I promise to do the dishes all the time. I'll do the dishes," he repeated until they both reached orgasm.

The next night, of course, Steve forgot to do the dishes. Karen left them undone. When Steve got into bed with Karen, she turned her back to him and said, "I'm really disappointed. You promised to do the dishes but they are not done."

Steve winced at her scolding. He had hoped that she would forget that promise. He meekly responded, "should I go do them now?"

Karen turned and almost screamed, "yes!"

She waited a few minutes until she heard the dishes clanking loudly. She got out of bed and approached Steve from behind. While he was scrubbing the plates and silverware, she wrapped her arms around him and ran her hands down his crotch. "There, that's not so hard, is it?"

"I thought you were just playing around last night," he offered without expecting to be believed.

"Don't you want to keep your promises with me?" she asks running her hands roughly across his penis through his pajamas. She kissed him softly on the back of his neck. "I thought you were a man of your word," she teased slipping her hand inside his pajama pants. By now Steve was rock hard and having a hard time concentrating on finishing the dishes.

But he managed somehow to finish and as he turned around Karen took him by the hand led him to the bedroom. Noticing that she had squeezed a dab of KY Lubricant into the palm of her hand, Steve laid back in bed to await her attention.

Karen mounted Steve as before, freeing his hard penis from his pajamas first lubricating it and then stroking it firmly.

"I want you to promise, again, to do the dishes," she said. "And I want you to promise to do them without being reminded."

"I promise," he replied dutifully, his thoughts more on her caress than on his words. "I promise."

Over the next few weeks, Karen similarly introduced Steve to various household chores. First washing the clothes, then tidying the house, then vacuuming the house. But when she asked him to prepare breakfast and dinner, Steve revolted.

Pushing her hands away from his penis as he lay in bed, he said, "I don't mind doing a few things around the house and this has really been a lot of fun but when is this going to end? I'm beginning to get the impression that you want me to do everything around the house and you want to do nothing. That's not fair."

Karen nodded without a word and moved back to her side of the bed. "All right," she said letting the conversation die and turned to go to sleep.

For the next couple days, Steve refused to do his chores leaving the dishes to pile up and the house untidy. Through it all, Karen neither did the chores for him nor scolded him for not doing them. Instead, she waited.

Sure enough, the third day Steve came home with roses that he laid on the kitchen table. He went about his chores washing the laundry, tidying and vacuuming the house, and washing the dishes that had piled up.

When Steve came to bed, he laid beside Karen and declared proudly, "I did my chores."

Without looking up from her book, Karen replied, "yes, I noticed. That's very good. But you need also to apologize."

Steve bit his lip, "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Karen replied setting aside her book and reaching for the KY Lubricant.

From time to time, Karen found that Steve would revolt against her authority but each revolt was less sincere than the previous until his revolts consisted of little more then pouting spells and sloppy housework. Always his revolts would end with a bundle of flowers, apologies, and extra attention to housework for the next week.

Over time, Karen found that Steve was most responsive to erotic sessions not more than every other night but not less than once a week, depending various things going on in their life.

After about six months of smooth sailing, Karen decided it was time to close the door once and for all on their old relationship. So one evening she called Steve into the study to see the website RWDDH.

"I'd like you to read this and let me know what you think," she said getting up from the desk and moving to another chair.

As Steve read through the website, he was in shock. Suddenly, everything made sense. "Would you like to talk about it? Karen asked as he rose from the chair.

"Not right now," he replied. Without further discussion, he retired to the bedroom in a sulk.

He continued his sulk for a couple days, leaving his chores undone. Their conversations were short and awkward. But Karen left him to himself knowing that he was thinking hard about their marriage.

Finally, on the third night, Steve turned to her in bed.

"I can't believe what I'm about to say," he began. Karen set aside her book and listened patiently.

"At first, when you showed me that website, everything fell into place and I was furious at you. But the more I fight it the more frustrated I become. When I think about refusing to do the things I've been promising to do for you, I just get extremely tense and uneasy. Then, when I think about doing them for you, I feel relaxed and happy, blissful really. When I think about doing the chores around the house, I just get so horny I can barely stand it. I think that I am addicted to serving you."

He continued, "I understand it and yet I don't. It all makes sense, rationally, this power you have over me. But what I can't understand is why my obsession makes me so happy. But it does and I would be a fool to deny it."

After a pause he resumed, "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to submit to you. Without reservation. Whatever you ask of me, I'll do. Just tell me what you want. I want to be your househusband."

"All I ask in return," he continued, "is that you not think less of me for going along with this. My biggest fear is that I will indulge this desire, this obsession, and then you will lose respect for me and ask for a divorce or have an affair. Promise that you will be faithful to me and I will do anything you ask."

Choking back tears of joy, Karen rested her hand on his hip. She said simply, "I promise."

Tricia and Daryl*

Tricia sat in her living room waiting for her husband of twenty years to arrive. And as she waited, she reflected and remembered.

It was only six months ago but it seemed like a lifetime. Certainly, it was for all practical purposes another life when she found the letters in their bedroom. Love letters written by her husband, Daryl, to a co-worker.

And he hadn't even tried to deny the affair. Oh, he had excuses. Her blood still boiled to remember how he had tried to blame her for the affair. Their sex life had gone to zero as she had turned her back on him in bed. And why not?! He had become an egotistical bastard and she his subservient housemaid. There was no love and without love how can there be sex?

Even as she had stood there, waving the letters in his face, he seemed so confident, so self assured. He was certain that she needed him more than he needed her. There was no remorse beyond that of a criminal who is sorry he got caught.

She relished, again, for the hundreth time, the look on his face when she tossed him out of the house. You really didn't expect that did you?

It didn't take long for her to find a job to support herself. And since the home was already paid off her expenses were minimal. Daryl called a couple times to offer a half-hearted apology but she wasn't ready to talk to him and because she knew he wasn't ready to truly apologize. He didn't even understand what he was apologizing for, yet. Nevertheless, she made it quite clear to him that she expected him to remain celebate if he harbored any hope of ever returning home.

So now, after six months, she was ready to welcome him back home, if 'welcome' was the right word for what she planned.

The doorbell wrang and she got up to answer. There he was, almost dashing in his pressed suit with an enormous bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates.

"May I come in?" he asked. She gestured in the affirmative ignoring the proferred gifts. He awkwardly held onto them as he slunk in to the living room and took his ususal seat.

"That's my chair," she said evenly. She almost cracked a smile as he showed first confusion and then humility quickly shuffling over to the smaller chair.

She took her seat, settling in confidently as if it has always been her's. She let the silence hang in the air and watched as he shifted nervously in his new chair looking for a place to set down the flowers and chocolates but not daring to actually do so.

"I've asked you here to let you know that I've decided to allow you to return home," she begain. Daryl smiled and opened his mouth to speak but she interrupted, "but there are several conditions that you should hear first. If you fail to abide by the conditions I will file for divorce without further discussion."

"What are your conditions," he replied softly.

"First of all," she continued, "I am ready to forgive you but I will never forget what you did. Contrary to what you may believe, there was absolutely no excuse for violating your marriage vows like you did. If you ever so much as look lustfully at another woman again I will file for divorce." He nodded in assent.

"I am prepared to forgive you only insofar as you are prepared to make amends. And you will make amends by following my directions in everything. From now on, I will be the head of this household. And your role in life is only to please me. If you do not please me, I will file for divorce." He nodded again, but with a puzzled look on his face.

"Your first job will be to maintain this house. You are the housewife from now on. You may not take a job without my permission and I will not give my permission unless I am satisfied that you are keeping up with the housework and if you ever fail to keep up with the housework I will ask you to resign from your job. If I lose faith in your ability to keep up with the housework, I will file for a divorce." He nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"You will clean the toilets, scrub and vacuum the floors, wash the clothes, and wash the dishes. You will plan and prepare the meals. You will lay out my clothes in the morning and pick them up at night. You will draw my bath and scrub my back. And through all of this you will be a perfect gentleman. If I sense any resentment from you in your chores, I will divorce you." This time, there was not even a weak nod.

"From now on you will sleep in the guest room. That is your room from now on. The master bedroom is my room. You do not go to sleep at night until I have gone to sleep and you will wake up before me. You will spend your Sundays alone in your room thinking about what you did and how you can make amends and be a good housewife to me. Are you agreed so far?"

"Yes," Daryl replied weakly not really comprehending what he was agreeing to.

"Now, as to sex. Forget it. Just simply forget it. If I am ever in the mood for sex with you I will let you know. If you ever touch me without my invitation then I will divorce you. Is that understood?"

Daryl bent his head forward and looked at the floor, "yes, I understand."

Sylvia and Dennis*

When Sylvia first suggested using her hand to stroke Dennis's penis he easily agreed. After all, what reason did he have to say no? At first he felt strange that, while stroking his penis with her lubricated hand, she would talk about things that had little or nothing to do with sex. She wanted to know how he felt about various things, her figure, her scent, doing many things for her. In time his answers became automatic. He found he couldn't concentrate on his answers when his penis was being stroked.

Day by day, he found himself more busy with housework, running her errands, giving massages and even making dinner, not to mention clearing up. He felt that all of that had to come first before sex.

One evening, she surprised him by rejecting his offer to have sex and, instead, demanding that he give her oral sex. She said she was too tired for penetrative sex. Having never experimented with oral sex, he was shocked by her demand and refused her. She simply turned and went to sleep.

Over the next few days, he knew she was pleasuring her herself with her toys. He made it a point to turn up the volume when watching porn and masturbating but he actually felt miserable. The masturbation brought only temporary relief and he felt empty.

When he could bear it no longer he decided to compromise. He started cleaning up again. He bought her flowers and offered to give her massages. He told her he was sorry for being rude and wanted to work things out.

That night when she came to the bed in only her robe his heart pounded with excitement and anticipation. But when he went to touch her she said, "the past few weeks had been hectic and tiring, I and just want to relax, what I'd really like is to feel your tongue down there." She opened her robe to reveal her nakedness and spread her legs out. He could only stare in disbelief. Seeing his hesitancy at her request, she said "still no?" She closed her thighs and robe. She switched off the lights, turned and went to sleep. He stared at her in the dark.

For what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, he struggled with himself. Finally, he rationalised that he should perhaps give in. "I want to pleasure you with my lips," he whispered in the darkness almost hoping that she wouldn't hear.

"Are you sure?" she replied in a soft voice? She asked, "do you wish to lick me now?" He blushed, feeling his pride and ego being trampled.

"I love you," he declared.

"Show me," she said as she switched on the lights and directed his face to her crotch with her firm hands. To his surprise, he quickly brought her to orgasm. He felt proud for being able to bring such pleasure to her but, at the same time, felt humbled for being made to serve a woman this way. But all was quickly forgotten when she directed him to intercourse.

Within a couple weeks he went from being repulsed at the thought of oral sex to craving it but still too proud to admit this to his wife and, so, always left it to her to suggest.

Then she started rejecting his advances even when he offered to give her oral sex before penetration.

"I'm tired of your playing hard to get," she explained.

He took this as a cue and knelt down before her whilst she was watching TV. He was guided more by my own sexual desperation rather than intellectual reasoning.

He switched off the TV and said to her. "Darling, please forgive me for being so ignorant and insensitive in the past and even now. I realise that you were offering me an intimate part of yourself as a privilege for me to love you but I rejected you and passed negative comments. I do crave you and I am crazy about the way you smell and taste. Your pussy was the first pussy he have ever licked. If you would only give me another chance to prove my love for you, I promise to obey you and learn and do whatever it takes to give you the pleasure that you deserve." He took her hand and kissed it.

She was stunned.

Though her eyes were shining, she managed to control her emotions. She kissed him on the forehead and said "I'm so glad to have a husband who loves me as much as I love him." Not wanting to spoil the moment he asked, "dear may he have the honour of giving you pleasure?" He he kissed her crotch through her tight jeans as an indication of his intentions. She nodded silently and he pulled down her pants and panty right there.

This time the experience was different. It was intense but more sublime. He just surrendered to her movements and directions. He felt strangely proud when he borught her to orgasm. They cuddled afterwards forgetting altogether about his penis. For the first time, he felt so involved with her orgasm that he did not think about his own.

When they woke up the next morning, her tender mood was replaced by her usual dominant self. This time more assertive and confident. She teased him and held his erect penis. She said "we forgot about you last night dear. Do you want some attention?"

He said, "yes of course honey." After directing him to again bring her to climax orally, she lubricated her hand and stroked his penis.

"You are such a wonderful husband to confess your desire for my femininity," she gushed. "Tell me again what you crave." And as he repeated his desire for her she brought him to climax with her hands.

Now he truly feels like she is on a high pedestal and he serves her like a Queen. He now realizes that there is no point to contest what she wants. When she is happy then he is happy.

Anna and Claude*

Anna and Claude had been married ten years but having decided not to have children their time was taken with each other and work. Over the years, Claude had become more and more beaten down by his job while Anna was blossoming in her's, so much so that Claude started to worry that she might have an affair.

As Claude struggled to maintain his self-esteem at home he began to search the internet for ideas to rekindle his marriage. Eventually he came upon RWDDH. There he found not a method for boosting his self-esteem but rather a model for embracing his increaslingly inferior position in the marriage. Thus did he begin fantasizing about submitting to his wife. Over the span of a couple months he become obsessed with the idea and determined to bring it up with her.

Anna, meanwhile, was growing increasingly frustrated with Claude's insecurity at home. She found herself staying longer and longer at work and fighting the urge to treat him as a doormat at home. She had long lost romantic interest in Claude and she began to wonder if their marriage was worth the trouble.

So she was taken aback when she first noticed the RWDDH website link on their computer favorites list. "What's this," she asked Claude.

"Just something I found on the internet," he replied with a shirk.

As she glanced through the site she laughed out loud. "Did you read this," she exclaimed. "Did you leave this here for me to find or what?!"

Claude looked at the floor and searched for the proper response. "I thought it might be worth talking about," he said.

Anna shook her head and read on. "You think this would be fun? You want me to manipulate you like this?" She looked at him with new eyes. Their love life had grown stale and tired but she knew enough about sex to know how easily men could be led by their sexual desires. If nothing else, this would sure be a lot of fun, she thought to herself.

"What do you find attractive about this?" No answer came but as the question hung in the air she noticed the growing bulge in Claude's pants. "Come here," she told him. "This is so cute, you're really turned on by this aren't you?"

Claude replied, "I dunno, maybe it's too silly but we could try some simple things and see what it's like."

"Well let me read the rest and I'll think about it," she replied peering into his eyes and seeing a glint of fire for the first time in quite a while. He smiled at her, nodded, and returned to his reading.

She studied the site carefully over the next few nights, reading and rereading and wondering why Claude had been so taken by it. Sure there was lots of sexual fetishism but there was also a lot of work involved. According to the site he was supposed to do everything for her, obey her every whim and serve every desire.

Searching further fpr something she could use to teach him a lesson, she found other websites on bondage and submission that were even more extreme and absurd.

She finally settled on something that she was sure would shock him out of this line of thought. Before she clicked the submit button on the order she turned to Claude and announced, "I've decided we should give this a try. You start doing the housework around here and when I think you've done enough I'll give you a big surprise."

"Ok," Claude said. "Show me how." Anna rolled her eyes and hit submit.

Anna then drafted a list of chores to do around the house. She printed the list and said, "follow me." Leading him around the house she introduced him to the washing machine, the utility room, and described the various cleaning solutions making additional notes on her list of chores. Finally she asked, "are you ready to begin?"

"Yes," Claude replied. "I'll start by washing the bed sheets and towels."

The next day when she returned from work Anna was surprised to find Claude already home and cleaning the floors.

That night Claude came to bed washed and clean shaven. Anna ran her hand across his penis, "not yet." The same thing happened again the next day. "Not yet," she said as she turned and went to sleep.

She half expected Claude to lose interest after the third night but he seemed more energetic than ever about doing the chores. His questions about the chores were genuine and he seemed to be really learning how to do them right.

Finally the package arrived and Anna announced after dinner, "tonight will be your lucky night." Claude smiled broadly and as he cleared the table, a bulge growing in his pants.

While Claude was doing the dishes Anna retired to their bedroom. She drew a bath and laid out her most erotic lingerie beside the opened box locking the bathroom door behind her.

As she relaxed in the tub Claude knocked gently on the door, "is there anything I can do for you?"

"Go use the other bathroom to clean up and wait for me in bed undressed," she replied grinning to herself.

She had planned to soak for at least an hour but when she heard her husband reenter the bedroom she couldn't wait any longer. She dried herself and dressed in her lingerie. She oppened the package and drew out the leather harness adjusting the straps to what looked like the right size. She stepped into the harness letting it dangle loosely while she went to the box again picking up the dildo. She smiled to herself as she turned it around in her hands. She hadn't chosen the biggest one but it was still better endowed than her husband. Yes, Claude was going to get a surprise tonight.

She pulled it through the harness until the base rested against the leather pad. She drew the harness tight to secure the dildo in place and then pulled at it in different directions to test its security and firmness.

She walked to the full-length mirror, her new penis bobbing with each step, and admired her reflection. "I've always wondered what it would be like to be a man," she said to herself as she her pelvis and stroked it.

She drew her breath at the door, there was no turning back now. She opened the door slowly and peered out at her husband, resting naked on the bed, his eyes closed, his head in his hands. When he heard the door he opened his eyes and rolled over to face her. What he saw took his breath away. His mouth dropped and his eyes widened to saucers. Anna glided gracefully through the doorway and into the bedroom but his eys were fixed on the seemingly enormous dildo protruding from her pelvis.

"What's this," he stammered in disbelief sitting up in bed.

Anna turned profile to him and replied, "what do you think? Do I have what it takes to be the man of the house?"

"I though we were going to just try some simple things, not this," he said pointing with a shaking finger. "This is not what I was suggesting," he added.

"I know this is what you want," she said mocking his rock hard erection like a prosecutor pointing to a smoking gun. She was just joking when she said it but the thought arrested her. Was he just so horny from all the teasing over the last few days or was this turning him on?

Anna looked down at Claude as he fumbled for a reply. She had planned only to scare him and tease him but now, at this moment, things suddenly seemed different. She felt something wash over her and she tilted her head in deep thought. Everything slowed down and grew still as she pondered the situation before her. What was she feeling? Was this a game or was it for real? Was she here to teach Claude a lesson or was there perhaps something for her to learn in this?

Claude looked up at her with an expression that drew her breath away: resignation. Her heart pounded as the enormity of the situation swept over her.

The smirk gone from her face, she motioned with her hand for Claude to stay put. She retraced her steps back to the bathroom to pick up the Ky jel and returned to the bedroom to find Claude laying flat on his back staring up at the ceiling.

"What do you want me to do," Claude said in a clam voice.

Again she paused to ponder the feelings that were running through her. After what seemed like an eternity she remembered the Ky jel in her hand. She opened it and squirted a very liberal dose onto the dildo spreading it carefully around.

"Just relax," she replied. "We'll take this slow and easy." Then, her sense of humor returning, she added, "I promise I'll be gentle."

She moved to the foot of the bed and paused again. Yes, she realized. She wanted to take him. She wanted to penetrate him like a man. She felt so empowered. She was going to be the penetrator and there was her husband opening himself up to her in the most literal was possible.

She spread his legs before her and crawled onto the bed between them. She ran her hands along his thighs and his hips and then back to his legs pulling them up and spreading them further out to expose his bottom to her. She crawled slowly forward until the head of the dildo was resting against his crotch below his sac. All the while her eyes were on his and his on hers. Without breaking eye contact, she guided the head against his anus and pressed forward ever so gently.

She watched his reaction, a quick draw of breath and then another. She continued the pressure, gently, gently. She ran her hands across his chest and whispered to him, "you are mine now, you belong to me." And she truly felt it. Never before had she felt so possessive of him.

Claude brought his hands up to Anna's sides, his thumbs on her niples, and replied with a soft, knowing smile, "I am your's. Take me." He drew up his legs exposing himself totaly to her.

As he did so, Anna felt the head move past the anus and into the rectum. Claude began to draw quick, shallow breaths. She paused and then pressed gently forward again. She waited until Claude had regained his breath and then she pulled back slightly until she felt resistence of the head against the inside of the anus. Claude's short breaths became gentle moans.

Forward, back, forward, back. Awkwardly at first but with growing confidence she thrust her pelvis forward and back. As she continued she felt her end gently moving inside her. The base pressed firmly against her clitoris each time she pushed forward. The curved end pulled against her g-spot each time she pulled back. Her own breath grew shallow and quick in rythm with his.

She felt crazy, dizzy with a lust for power. For the first time in her life, she was in complete control and Claude lay passively beneath her. And as her own passion surged, she could see Claude, too, was caught up in the flow, yielding, accepting.

No, this was not a game. This was real. This was genuine. With each stroke she felt as if she were casting aside inhibitions, tossing off chains. No longer would she restrain herself to fulfill social expectations.

It didn't take long before she felt a powerful orgasm roll through her. She grasped his swollen penis and with a couple quick strokes of her hands he exploded as well.

That night forever changed their lives.

Note: These stories are based on real life events. The names have been changed and, in some cases, represent a composition of several married couples.

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