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From: David Wright <bluewords@yahoo.com>
Subject: {Bluewords} Clueless Wife (M/F Femdom? D/S?)
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{Bluewords} Clueless Wife (M/F Femdom? D/S?)

I had a hard time classifying this story. Let me know what you think.

This text contains material of an explicit and adult nature. If you
are not of legal age to 
view such text  DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER. The following text and
characters are 
fictional and in no way reflects any known persons, situations or
places. Any similarity 
to real life is purely coincidental.

Permission is granted to save this story to a private computer for
personal viewing or to 
be re-posted within this newsgroup so long as both this disclaimer and
copyright of the 
writer and owner-(me)- remain intact. The story may be archived or
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credit for the work. However, permission to print in book or magazine,
or commercial 
archive this story, as well as selling this story as your own, is
explicitly withheld.


Clueless Wife

I don't understand how Andrea can so mean to me. I try to show her I
love her, adore 
her, want to serve only her, and yet she treats me cruelly. I just
don't know what I can do 
for her that would prove to her how much I need her, how much I need
to be hers. How 
can she not know how I feel? What can I do?

I work all day, thinking of her often. My job is okay, not the
greatest, but it pays well, 
and I bring it all home for her. I don't even think she notices. I'm
not expecting thanks, 
not exactly. But sometimes I feel like I'm being taken for granted. I
just want her to want 
me, to -- to take advantage of my willingness to do anything for her.
And then, I think, 
if I'm really hers, her servant, then maybe I shouldn't have any
expectations. But I never 
see any sign from her that she realizes she can do whatever she wants
with me. She 
never orders me to do anything for her. She always seems to want
everything so -- so 
normal.

So I try things, hoping she'll notice how subservient I am. For
instance, I generally do 
most of the cooking, so I've learned all of her favorite dishes. I've
read many cookbooks, 
trying to come up with new meals that she'll enjoy. And if she likes
it, she'll compliment 
it. She'll be very gracious about it. But she always leaves it up to
me to decide what to 
cook. She never orders me to cook her favorite food.  I have to try
and guess by her 
mood what she might like. I have even gotten pretty good at it, and
occasionally she'll 
say "This is Just what I wanted." Doesn't she know how much work it is
to do that, to 
guess her moods, to cook the meals'? Just once I'd like her to say,
"Make the veal 
tonight!" Just once.

And if I guessed wrong? I did sometimes, at first. Made things she
didn't like, or wasn't 
in the mood for. I got a cold shoulder from her the rest of the
evening. And I could 
forget about sex. Occasionally, she would let me please her, but I
would get nothing in 
return. I kept wishing she would punish me, but she wouldn't. A
spanking, a whipping, 
anything would have been better than her chilly attitude. So I
learned, learned to cook 
the right things, to pick up on her little hints and moods.

Andrea is busy during the day, with friends and activities. She's on a
few committees for 
various causes, she likes to keep active in the community. So I don't
mind doing the 
cooking, and cleaning up the house after I get home. It doesn't take
that long to do the 
dusting and vacuuming, and I can do the laundry at the same time.
Luckily, we don't 
have a big yard, so I can handle that on the weekends. And I know she
appreciates all I 
do. It all just sort of became my responsibility. There were never any
demands or 
negotiations. Trying to prove my devotion to her, I just took on more
and more 
responsibility, and she just let me.

Making love with her is another example. I've had to become expert at
reading her 
moods for that, too, to figure out what she wants to do tonight. Does
she want to play 
rough with me, or have me tenderly cause her to have orgasm after
orgasm? Does she 
want it quick or slow, fast and hard, or leisurely and gentle? She
never demands, never 
orders me to do anything in particular. I'm the one that has figure
out what she wants, 
and then carry it out. Just once, I'd like to hear her say. "In bed,
now, on your back," or 
"On your knees and eat me," something like that.

Sometimes we make love so long that I lose the ability to have an
orgasm for a while. 
We've made love for hours like that, with her writhing below me,
having orgasm after 
orgasm. She knows I can't come, but she does nothing to give me any
extra stimulation 
so I can finally orgasm. I don't even think I'd mind it too much, if I
knew she was doing 
it on purpose, using me that way.

I know Andrea likes well-built men. Not necessarily a full-blown
muscular he-man, but 
at least nicely portioned. So I've always tried to keep myself in
shape for her. I go to the 
gym as much as I need to, to keep toned. I think I've done fairly
well, but all I get from 
her is sarcasm. "You look fine," she'll tell me. She says she likes my
body the way it is, 
and if I want to work out more, it’s up to me. I can't explain how she
says this, the 
inflections in her voice, or the way she looks at me when she says it,
but I know she's 
really thinking she wishes I were stronger, better built. I keep
worrying that she'll find 
some better looking guy and leave me for him. She's gone out to those
clubs where the 
men strip down to g-strings and I know she liked it. I worry that some
night, she just 
won't come home.

I mean, Andrea is a knockout, svelte and sexy. She's slim, with a
little muscle showing. 
Any man would be crazy for her. I could spend forever, worshipping her
breasts, or 
massaging her back, or kissing her long legs. I have spent hours
between her legs, 
pleasing her with my mouth and tongue. She has an incredible capacity
to have multiple 
orgasms. My tongue and jaw sometimes get sore, but I keep it up until
she's satisfied 
completely. I often imagine her ordering me there between her legs,
maybe tying me up 
and forcing me to service her. What I wouldn't give for that to
happen. I've almost had 
an orgasm thinking about it.

I'm beginning to think nothing I do will be good enough for her.
Sometimes, I think 
maybe I should try and make her mad, just to see if she'll punish me.
But then I think of 
the time at a party hosted by a friend of ours, and after a little
while, I wanted to leave 
because I was feeling a little queasy. I can't drink very much, it
hurts my stomach, and I 
had a bit too much that night. We had a small argument about it, and
she said I was 
being a baby and that we were staying. I began to complain again and
she slapped my 
face. My face! Right in front of everyone! I was so humiliated. I
would rather have her 
whip my ass raw than slap my face. And to make matters worse, she
decided to stop 
dancing with me, and instead danced with other men there. I was
mortified. I couldn't 
do anything, just sit in a corner and watch her. I tried to make light
of it, but I'm sure 
everyone knew how awful I felt. Especially since afterwards I realized
she was right, I 
had been behaving foolishly I've been very careful not to argue with
her again. Why 
couldn't she have just ended the discussion and told me she was going
to punish me later 
at home? Anything would have been better than the public humiliation.

Another humiliating incident occurred when she invited several of her
women friends 
over for a get together. She asked me if I would stick around and help
out, serving them 
drinks and all. Of course I would, she could have just ordered me to.
She's too nice, 
maybe. Then she said she wanted me to look nice, and asked if I would
wear some 
clothes she had put out for me. I put them on, but I was embarrassed
to be in them.  
They weren't normal casual clothes, or dress clothes, or even. The
pants were a pair of 
tight black leather slacks I'm not even sure why I have, and a tight
form-fitting white 
shirt. The pants showed my every curve and bulge. But I did it for
her, slave or not. 
Then, when I was going to take the drinks out to her friends, she
stopped me in the 
kitchen before I went out and told me how good I looked. And she
rubbed her hand over 
my crotch, causing me to get hard immediately. I had to serve them
like that, obvious to 
everyone that I had a hard-on. One of the women even commented on how
cute I was, 
and how well Andrea had me trained. Didn't I wish! It's what I hoped
for, for Andrea to 
train me like she wants. Instead, I serve drinks to her friends

And other things. At one point, one of the women there complained that
her feet hurt 
from walking around all day. Andrea mentioned that I was good at foot
massage (just 
one of the things I learned about trying to please her), and maybe I
would be so kind as 
to give her one. I was still embarrassed. My penis had remained hard
the whole time in 
front of the women. I guess due to the pressure of the tight pants.
Still, I thought this 
might he a way to show Andrea how good I can obey, even though it
wasn't really an 
order.

I bent down in front of the woman, removed her shoes and began to rub
her feet. She 
seemed very pleased at this. She spread her legs apart, and I couldn't
help noticing  that 
she didn't have any panties on. Not only that, her vaginal lips
opened, and I could tell 
that she was very wet. I could even smell her arousal, being so close.
I bent my gaze 
back down to her feet and kept them there until I decided I was
finished. My penis, if 
anything, was even harder. Back in the kitchen, Andrea began to
torment me. She told 
me that she had  noticed me looking up the woman’s skirt, and she used
her sexiest 
voice to ask me if I wanted to screw her friend. That’s what she said!

I didn't know what to say, I was so astonished. I thought she was mad
at me and tried to 
placate her. I told her that she knew I loved only her.

She asked me again if I’d like to. She was leaning very close to me.
She said she thought 
the woman would like it.

I managed to mutter that I only wanted her, Andrea. I couldn't
understand what was 
happening

Then Andrea laughed, saying that she might like to watch, or even join
in herself! She 
raked her hand across my hard penis through the pants, and I swear I
almost came right 
then and there. Why was she tormenting me like this? The horrible part
of it all was that 
I had been attracted to her friend. She was very pretty and had a nice
figure. But I would 
never cheat on Andrea. And here she was suggesting I do that very
thing. I wanted to 
tell her that I'd do whatever she wanted, but it sounded to me like I
was asking her for 
permission to come on to this other woman. I just couldn't tell what
Andrea wanted. So I 
didn't say anything. She left me there in the kitchen and went back to
her friends. They 
called me out for some more drinks, but luckily no one else asked for
a foot massage.

I don't know what to expect any more from Andrea. She does things to
tease me, but I 
can't be sure if she's not kidding. I finally decided to confront her
a few days ago, to beg 
her to let me be her slave. I wasn't sure how to broach the subject,
so I just came right 
out and asked.

I told her that she knew I loved her, and that I wanted to serve her,
to please her, to do 
whatever she wanted me to.

She looked at me a moment or two, then smiled. She called me a silly
man, that she 
knew I loved her. She said she loved me, too.  She said she was happy
with things the 
way they were, and that I pleased her very much. 

I guess she’s right. What more could I really want? She’s loving,
beautiful, and I really 
believe she loves me. And I love her so. I suppose I just need to try
even harder. Maybe 
by being the perfect servant, I can show her what it would be like to
have me as her 
slave. Maybe then she’ll treat me like I long to be treated. How I
long to call her 
“Mistress." Maybe someday, I will. 


Copyright (c) 1998 by David Wright.  All rights reserved








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