“IT WASN’T WHAT I WANTED”

(“How I Turned My Wife Into a Domme”)

By

B. J. Frazier

Copyright 2020. All rights reserved

Published by B.J. Frazier at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work.

This book is a work of fiction

Adult Reading Material

Table of Contents

Author’s Note

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue

About B.J. Frazier

Books by B.J. Frazier

Connect with B.J. Frazier

Author’s Note

This book contains erotic fiction with graphic sex and is intended for mature readers only.

My sincere and devoted thanks go to Thomas Antonson for his editing acumen and his uncanny ability to understand which word I really meant to use.

Please visit my website: bjfrazier.com

I know there are a lot of books for sale, and I thank you for choosing mine.

Happy reading,

~B.J.

Severe Content Warning: B.J. Frazier books contain *plots* and *well-developed characters*

Enjoy!

Prologue

Mitch mechanically put on the green thong and tried to think of a way out.

It was difficult to think when the lacy edges poked through his metal cage.

“Look at yourself in the mirror, cuck,” his wife, now-Mistress, instructed.

The “floss” of the thong pressed against his butt plug, and it wiggled in his hole when he walked. It was like receiving a mini-prostate massage with every step.

Looking in the mirror, Mitch was shocked. The thong hid his caged package and, if he focused only on the panty part, he looked feminine.

His wife appeared in the mirror next to him. “How does it fit?”

Without waiting for an answer, Vicky slipped a finger in the top and dragged it around his body. “Not too tight. Seems as though I got your size, Mitch.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“How does it fit here?” she grabbed the front and squeezed.

“It fits well, Mistress.”

“Do you like it?”

“Not really--” he started but stopped when he caught her reflected glare.

They hadn’t discussed cross-dressing, and it was a line for Mitch. Now would be the time for him to object.

He wanted to object.

Instead, he answered, “Yes, Mistress.”

She pressed her breasts against his back. “That pleases me, cuck. Hold your arms out front.”

Vicky slid the straps of a matching green bra up Mitch’s arms and clasped it in the back.

His first thought was that he looked ridiculous, having no bust to fill it out.

His second thought, though, was how arousing the lace felt against his nipples.

“Don’t you look so pretty.” It wasn’t a question.

She traced his chest along the curve of the cups.

“I think I’m going to need to fuck my pretty little thing tonight,” Vicky said as she batted a crop against the front of Mitch’s thong.

He held her stare but said nothing.

She’d kept him in chastity for a week.

“Would you like to get fucked in your pretty outfit?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She smiled. “That makes me very happy.”

Pulling her skirt up, Vicky pressed her pantyless crotch against his thigh. “Can you feel how wet I am just thinking about it?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Shit, I’m so excited, I’m going to need you to lick me before dinner, cuck.”

Mitch automatically walked to the bed, knelt on his satin pillow with his hands behind his back, and waited for his love to sit and spread her legs.

“We don’t have much time, so you’ll get some help,” Vicky retrieved a clit vibe from the drawer and sat on the end of the bed.

Having been strictly trained, Mitch knew not to move until ordered.

Vicky lifted her skirt, spread her legs and pressed a button. The mini-vibe hummed on low, and she pressed it against her opening before lightly tracing its perimeter.

“Mmm, this may be my favorite vibe.”

It was difficult for Mitch to be so close to her pussy and not participate. Still, she’d trained him well.

“Can you see my wetness, cuck?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Do you want to taste it?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Beg me.”

“Please, Mistress. Please let me taste your sweet goodness and allow me to bring you to heaven.”

“Well, you have been a good boy putting on your new outfit. And we really do have reservations. So...”

Vicky bent her leg, put her heel behind Mitch’s neck, and pulled his head forward.

“Lick my hole, cuck.”

Mitch licked the vibe’s wake and tasted his wife. He’d planned on teasing her, but she brought the vibe to her clit, causing her hips to rise and gyrate.

Fighting the urge to grab hold of her, Mitch concentrated on maintaining contact with her sex.

Following her rhythm, Mitch tightened his tongue and used it like a cock.

Vicky’s moans got louder. “Mmm, yes! I love it when you fuck me with your tongue when the vibe’s on my clit!”

Her hips revolved around his face as her leg pulled him deeper. His movement was restricted as she bucked his tongue and diddled her knob.

Vicky began to growl deeply. “Ohhh!” As her body tensed, she emitted a high-pitched squeal as she shuddered against Mitch’s face.

As her ass returned to the mattress, she sighed a sensuous moan.

It was the sound of a siren that Mitch had come to love.

He also loved her juices sliding down his face.

Vicky quickly brought herself to another, less intense, orgasm.

Mitch knew not to panic and to hold himself still. She would return to reality and let him breathe soon.

As Vicky’s panting quieted, she dropped her leg.

“I want you to keep that on your face.”

“I thought we were going out.”

“We are.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Put your clothes on.”

Mitch rose and began to remove the thong.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready, as you asked.”

“I told you to put your clothes on, not take them off.”

“But this is--you don’t want--I can’t--”

Vicky slapped his face. “How many times have I said that we’re late?!”

“Sorry, Mistress, I just--you want me to wear these out?”

“Well, under your suit, of course. And look, cuck, I got you a new tie!”

Vicky held up a tie that matched his green lingerie.

“Thank you.” Mitch hoped it would shield the bra from showing under the white button-down.

After he was dressed with his tie, he was again taken to the mirror.

“See? From the outside, no one would know that you’re wearing such sexy underclothes, right?”

“I guess.” Mitch thought if he looked closely, he could see the green peeking through.

He wasn’t pleased. It was the first time they were going out when she would be in control. While Mitch wanted the experience and had been trained for months, he still thought it was a bit much...

No one from college would really believe I’d be caught in public like this, let alone wear women’s lingerie at all.

Holy shit! Come to mention it, I didn’t think I would, either...

Chapter 1

I’m in my forties, and I met my wife in college. We were crazy then; did college things. Experimented.

You know what I’m talking about. We went to the sex store to buy a gag gift for a friend, like a dildo, edible underwear, glow-in-the-dark condoms; that sort of thing.

We’d go together. Vicky and I. It was kinda like the “thing” we were known for; bringing raunchy sex gifts to our friends’ birthdays or parties.

While we were in the store, we’d browse. We couldn’t bring the same gift all the time. Sometimes we’d pick up a thing or two for ourselves.

Maybe we used the gifts as an excuse to indulge our dark side.

But it was all fun. We were regarded as the “kinky couple”.

Really, I was the king of kink, and she was my queen.

I liked that reputation.

We were considered hardcore. ‘Cause back then, no one really experimented with toys. There weren’t sex shops on every corner, and they certainly didn’t advertise!

Also back then, hardcore sex was all about me being dominant. Well, not just me; men in general.

I liked that aspect of my reputation; the all-knowing male sex machine.

Vicky loved it, too. Me being the one in control, I mean.

Holy shit, I used to make her do some wild things.

But that’s the past.

Vicky and I have been together for thirty years. Married for twenty-six.

It’s hard to believe how far we’ve come. If our kids knew what we used to do--well, they’d never believe it.

We’ve got three kids. Great kids. They’re in college. One of them is going to graduate this year.

My point is, they’re pretty much gone. They’ll show up on weekends and for holidays but, really, we’re empty-nesters.

When your kids grow up and leave the house, you begin to take stock of your life. I did.

I plotted my sex life on the X axis of a graph and years on the Y axis. I factored in the kids and found an inverse relationship of sex to kids.

In the ‘80s, sex with Vicky was damn near off that chart. After marriage, it was still fairly high. But it took a hit in the pregnancy years. And it was all downhill from there.

That was how I took stock of my life; plotting out my sex chart.

I really envisioned it. I’m an accountant. We love charts of all kinds. Colors, too.

Anyway, as I contemplated my dwindling sex life, I also thought about my mortality.

Then I thought, holy shit, I’m only in my forties; that’s hardly graveyard-bound!

And as I stared at that stupid chart, I panicked. I saw all the sex we had when we were younger and how much had tapered off.

Could this be it?

No. My dear, sweet Vicky reminded me that sex was still very much in the cards for us. The night after we dropped our youngest off at college, I came home to a candlelit dinner in the dining room.

Vicky served dinner wearing an apron and nothing else.

When I was thrusting into her missionary style after dinner, she wrapped her arms around me and screamed, “We get to have sex whenever and wherever we want now!”

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