Friday Night Pt. 02

I think the most often-used word in his vocabulary is "perhaps," closely followed by "maybe." Sometimes I could scream at him. Now I realise how he agonises over the simplest decision. I've made it easy for him; I just tell him what he thinks. It sounds a bit dictatorial, and I suppose it is. He is happier, and so am I. It's a victimless crime.

A good example is the holiday booking season. When our girls were living at home with us, the annual divorce in an envelope was when the holiday brochures arrived. My youngest was eleven when she threw the pile on the floor and shouted, "For fucks sake, mum, just tell him where we are going.

I'd never heard either of my babies swear before. I picked up one brochure, which fell open, for a hotel in Lanzarote. Now, I said, book us two rooms for a fortnight there, I gave him my very best death ray glare. I don't give a fuck if it does cost more; we are flying from Manchester, not fucking the arsehole of the south, Luton. Do I make myself clear?

I was fucking angry, angry that his eternal dithering had drawn the first curse from my baby--well, the first I heard anyway. Truthfully, she has learned a lot more bad words from me than she will ever learn from her dad.

We had quite possibly our second-best holiday ever there. Next year, I binned all the brochures after I had made my choice. "Ooh, but darling, we always." I cut him off with a "don't you fucking dare sunshine." That was the first "yes dear" I remember him using. That one was Turkey; I think that was the third best holiday.

Back To Sex

It took a bit of experimentation for me to realise the Labia-licking orgasm was, as the Americans say, stealing first base. If you are a Brit reading this and don't understand that, watch the film 42.

A tongue up your bum is walking to home plate while you wave at the crowd after you smacked the shit out of the ball and hit it out of the ground. A proper fucking is an "All Bases Loaded Grand Slam!"

Our best holiday was two months in the States with our American friends. I love baseball; it's an entire family day out. You can dip in and out of it all day long, or you can get scorecards and analyse team, player, coach, or batboy performance. Even the girls loved it. The gridiron football we saw last time we went is as boring as a bucket full of cold piss! Its cold in Maine where our friends live I won't be going there in the winter again!

He is sensitive to my needs! Yes, I was gobsmacked too. I'm pretty sure the only time I use the crop on him now is when he deliberately provokes its use. I suppose I'm a bit naive; I'm not one of the bull whip bitches. I do love having him scream into a big, fat cock gag while I run a pinwheel around his cock head. I'm getting very good with rope as well.

Overall, I'm losing the naivety and getting better. I've found a group of dominant wives on a private Facebook forum. It's a little chat group. One or two are complete imbeciles, and I don't think they have ever had a cock in their fun box in their entire lives. All the others on there are good, helpful, funny, and just like me, a bunch of dirty, slutty bitches. I've just stopped lurking and made a post or two of my own.

I've made a friend with one of them; her name is Seph, which is short for Persephone. She doesn't live a million miles away. We've met halfway for coffee a few times now. To be honest, she isn't much more experienced than me, but we can bounce ideas off each other.

She told me the first time we met that she thinks I should try spanking him. I know if I ask him, he will say yes, whether he loves or loathes the idea. Seph has an advantage over me. Up to a point, her boy will actually tell her what he likes and dislikes, but sometimes she knows he will say yes when he means no.

She says she uses the wank test to confirm. Yes, I was nonplussed as well. The wank test is to see how high his spunk flies after you try something new on him. Nothing has beaten a tit wank yet; nothing has come close, but it's a good indicator.

The second time we met for coffee, she bought me a present. A red rubber paddle. I'd told her that a pre-sex spanking improved the wank test, but his arse is tougher than my hand. I was a bit nervous about using tools, and she laughed at me. What about your riding crop? You told me on WhatsApp that he provokes you into using it. After using the paddle to turn his bum cheeks pink, he hit the ceiling fan on the wank test in the spare bedroom, where we play now.

She wants me to PM another woman in the group; apparently, she is a whiz on computers and specialises in finding things out.

Gilla, thank God for Facebook.

I ummed and erred so long that Seph called Gilla, the other woman, and asked her to contact me. So one day I fired up our desktop, and there was a friend request from Gilla Randall on my Facebook page. Seph had warned me it was coming, so I accepted it, and within seconds I had the little wavy bubbles to tell me someone was typing.

Hi Gillian, Seph tells me you need some help.

Yes, I'm at a bit of a loss.

Tell me about it.

I want to take over our sex life. Well, I have taken over our sex life, or I'm trying to.

So, what is stopping you? Just a second, let me guess; he won't tell you what he likes.

That's right, Gilla. Is it common for men to be like that?

Most submissive men are ashamed of themselves for some reason or another. Mostly, there is nothing to be ashamed of. It's quite common. Look at his computer.

I can't; I don't know his password, and I don't want him to think I'm snooping.

Can you start his computer and get online?

Yes, it's easy; it's the one I'm on now.

Send me an email at the following email address: gillarandall@********.com. If you want to find out what he looks at, As soon as it's up and running, I'll give you admin rights and tell you how to block me so I can't see your or his stuff.

What will you do?

I have an app I can load on your computer. Only you will be able to see it, not him. Every time someone on that computer visits a page, it sends the web address to you. If you don't mind him watching porn and you want to know what he watches, that's great. Most of my Dome friends use it. We have to cheat to be the supremely dominant sexual goddess our snivelling dogs want us to be. Trust me, girl, it's the only way. If you do use it, sooner or later, you have to tell him. Secrets will bite you on the arse.

He's not a snivel-----

Gilla interrupted. None of them are really; my Will served for years in the SAS.

You need to give him a good time, then tell him. Ask if you can keep it. Tell him that if he lets you, there will be more happy times. Tell me, on a scale of one to ten, how well do you know what's going on in his mind?

I'd say seven out of ten.

Wow, that sounds honest. Most women think they know ten out of ten. I study Will. I analyse everything about him. I think I know nine out of ten.

What do I put in the email?

Anything doesn't matter. I'll send a link; you click on it, then click on accept," and you start getting emails. If he has his history set to a month, you will immediately get a month of his browsing history. It's up to you how long you keep it. My best friend Grace keeps it on all the time to see what her Kelvin is up to. It's not because she is nosy--well, a bit because she is nosey--it's so she can keep him entertained. Another woman I know has a man who has a thing about castration.

What? He watches castrations online.

No, not real ones, but acted-out ones. She bought an elastrator, it puts an elastic band around a baby sheep or goat's nuts, cuts off the blood supply, and they fall off.

They would need to be on a man for six months to cause any real damage. So she can control it. He doesn't have a nasty accident this way. She gently scratches his itch. Men can be a bit stupid, you know.

Just remember, if we don't solve it this time, we will soon. It doesn't matter what their problem is; there is an answer. We just need a clue or two.

Can I ask what your man's problem is, Gilla?

Sure, he's a premature ejaculator, or he was!

Oh, how did you cure that?

I haven't completely. I ruin his orgasm, but if I ruin his orgasm three times, his fourth lasts easily long enough for him to shag me silly. I used to have to milk his prostate. But we have moved on from that.

Can I ask you another question, Gilla?

I think the answer is to stick your finger up his bum. There is a roughish lump about a finger up. Just gently rub it; it takes a while.

I read a story he wrote about Gilla where he made me out to be some cock happy hot wife who kept him chaste and only let him cum on his birthday. I'm not like that.

Don't be silly, girl. There isn't a woman on the planet who is. Let me guess. Iced cock to deaden all feelings. You're fucking six big black men at the same time. You somehow managed to transport several gallons of cum home in your pussy, and then you made him eat it. It's pretty standard stuff.

You're funny; there were only three black men in his story, but the rest is spot on.

Was he like this when you got him? Or has it come on since?

He can't make me pregnant again; we both wanted a boy. I've got two girls, and I'm happy. I think it worries him. I think that's it, and I don't think there is anything I can do about that. I wanted a boy, but I don't want anyone else's; I got my mini me but not my mini him. I am a practical girl; I've moved on. I'm not sure he has.

I told Gilla about Hubbies injury, the fight in the pub and the lead up.

To be honest that sounds good to me. Two things, he is starting to realise its not his fault. Second the penny has doped, it's too late for both of you now. Hope that doesn't hurt.

Ooh it hurts, I know its true but it still hurts.

Look, this is not going to be simple. Do you ever make him eat you after he has fucked you?

Yes. He likes to do that.

Stop him doing it. He's removing the bad stuff. Do you like his cum?

Yes, I like the thought of having it more than the taste. When he first came in my mouth before we were married, I had an urge to swallow it, not spit it. I don't think I could bear to have anyone else's in my mouth.

Then, first thing, don't let him keep it. Take it all. You brought up prostate milking. Milk him, then make a big thing out of it being yours. Or ruin him.

Pardon!

Ruin his orgasm! Can you tell when he is about to start his orgasm?

Oh yes, his balls move; they sort of tighten up if I pull them, it slows it down a bit.

Then tie the bugger up, wank him until his bollocks twitch, then stop. Don't do a thing. It's best if his cum just dribbles out; maybe a little bit of surging, but the less of that, the better. Look into his eyes while you do this and let him know you are in charge. Keep telling him it all belongs to you.

If he complains, tell him he messed up with the sex thing; you're in charge of this now. Remember, not ejaculation; ease it out of him. You haven't been looking for this before, so you will get better. So will he! He will hate it at first, but he will promise you the world on a stick when the session ends.

Collect it; use a special container if you can; something he knows is yours and is very special to you. Then make a Broadway production of eating his seed. Show him it's yours, not his; you want it, and you're having the lot from now on. I'd repeat the ruin at least once; most men can manage two and then make it a proper one on the third.

On the third, you sit on his cock and fuck him until he puts it inside you. It will probably take a while, but I'm pretty confident it will come. If you're a good actress, fake an earth-shattering orgasm when he shoots inside you. Seriously, I think the poor boy thinks his cum is worthless. You have to convince him it's your most prized possession.

The third time I ruined my Will, I gave him a titty wank to finish him off. I'd been alternating between hand and blow jobs for a good three-quarters of an hour. I had a good idea he had a thing about seeing his cock in my boobs. The history spy tells all girl.

I oiled my boobs up, sat on his legs, and squeezed them around his cock. I didn't get two rubs; he spattered everywhere. On my face, in my eye, and in my hair. I wiped it up with my fingers and licked them clean. It wasn't completely planned, but it couldn't have gone better. I was laughing my head off.

Ooh, Gilla, that's exactly what happened to us. I had been teasing him. I waxed my puss, and then I only let him lick the outside and sniff it. He literally exploded over us both. Next time, make him lick it off your boobs; no swallowing for him. Though you French kiss him and take it all back from him, keep telling him it's yours. It belongs to you, and you will not tolerate him wasting it.

My boy saw some wicked stuff in Bosnia. Sadistic stuff. He needs joy and laughter; that's his medicine. I think you have enough to start your boy with. Try him with the ruined orgasms and see if it works; I think it will. If not, we will try History Spy. Keep in touch, and let me know how you get on. I'll talk to Gracie.

Who is Gracie?

Gracie is the head of the coven. Don't let the name put you off; Gracie's man Kel christened us that. It's a pet name; we all picked it up and adopted it.

There is a problem. Your man feels he has been castrated, you have to convince him he hasn't and stop it from being a problem.