My husband and I have been playing the game for only a month, but I already can’t imagine my life without it. Before the game, my husband and I were pretty boring. We both worked full time, leaving the apartment before 7 in the morning and getting back around 8 or 9 at night. Most nights, we had dinner and went straight to bed, too tired to even watch TV.

On the weekends, we mostly kept to ourselves. We were both 30 and childless. All our friends had children, and they consumed their lives, leaving no room for brunches or late night get-togethers. We were childless and soon on our way to being friendless. We spent our weekends doing chores, cleaning our apartment, and watching TV.

Some nights, I’d lie in bed and remember how things used to be. Mark and I had met in college. I studied Film. I wanted to be an actress, but also be in control behind the camera. Mark studied Finance. I took Art History because it sounded fascinating, Mark took it because he needed an elective and he thought Art History would be easy. He was wrong.

When I walked into the classroom on the first day, I spotted him in the crowd and sat next to him because I thought he was cute. When it was his turn to fill in the attendance sheet, Mark realized that he’d forgotten to bring a pen. I lent him mine and introduced myself, and that’s how we met. I made the first move then, and I’d continue to make the first for the rest of our relationship.

I quickly discovered that Mark was quiet and shy and nervous, but he wasn’t neurotic. If you left Mark alone to his work, he exuded a calm confidence that looked, from a distance, like meditation. He didn’t worry, like I did when I was alone and things were quiet. When he had a ton of projects and things got hectic, he seemed to always see the way ahead clearly. He didn’t let big things overwhelm him, but he would stutter when he asked me what I wanted to drink or what movie we should watch. It seemed that he was the most nervous around me, nervous that he’d look stupid or say the wrong thing.

Back then, I felt invincible and bold and special. I truly believed that I was going to be famous, that I would write and direct and star in a movie that would put me on the map and win awards and prove everyone who had ever doubted me wrong. I used to daydream about being interviewed or giving acceptance speeches. But none of that happened. I stopped acting, stopped directing short films, stopped writing, and settled into an office job at a small talent agency.

Meanwhile, Mark did well in his job, rising through the ranks and getting promotions and raises. We moved into a nice apartment together mostly because of his income, while mine barely covered the Wi-Fi and groceries.

Through it all, Mark’s confidence bloomed while mine waned. When we were in college, I pulled him out of a movie and out onto the street and asked him when he was going to ask me to be his girlfriend, so of course he asked me then. I was sure, in that moment, that I would do the same thing for his marriage proposal, if he took too long. But I didn’t. As the years went on, I let him make all the choices, let 6 years of dates and trips pass, and I never dropped hints that I wanted him to pop the question.

I think that part of me wasn’t sure I wanted him to. Mark had flourished, he was a better version of the boy I met in college, while I was the fading shadow of the bold, confident, and driven girl I had been.

But Mark asked me to marry him and I said yes and, a few years later, our lives had gotten a lot more dull. I got a few promotions, but my work life was nowhere near as exciting as Mark’s. I seemed to be working harder, for longer hours, and taking home less while being overlooked and undervalued. Mark went on trips and won certificates and awards and met clients who loved him to death.

It was on one of Mark’s business trips that I found it. While he was gone, I had decided to spend the weekend looking for things to sell, donate, or throw away to clean our apartment. I found his old laptop in the back of our closet.

I plugged it in, wanting to see if it worked to up its resale value, only to discover that it had no password. It booted up right to the home screen, where I was greeted by a mess of files and pictures that smothered his wallpaper.

I smiled. This was Mark’s laptop when we were still in college, and I remembered peeking over his shoulder and criticizing his hoarding of files. If I was going to resell the laptop, I’d have to format the hard drive, but I wasn’t going to do that without contacting Mark first.

My hand hovered over the trackpad. I was about to shut the computer off, when one of the file names on the screen caught my eye. I wasn’t one to snoop, but I couldn’t help it. It was right there, and I’d read the words in a microsecond.

"DOM GF PEGS SUB BF.MP4"

Most people would call me "vanilla." I’d seen maybe 20 porn videos in my lifetime and, once I started dating, I’d never been interested in watching more. But I knew what some of those words meant. I’d seen lewd memes online, I knew what Dom and Sub meant. I also knew about pegging, thanks to someone at work who liked inappropriate memes in our group chat. Pegging is when you penetrate someone from behind with a strap-on.

Dominant girlfriend pegs submissive boyfriend. That was what that title meant, and it was a video. A porn video, without a doubt.

I was crossing a line here. This was a breach of privacy. But, then again, was it that much of a breach if all these files were right there on the desktop? As long as I didn’t leave the desktop, could it really be considered snooping?

I looked around the desktop and other file names jumped out at me.

"DOM IN LATEX"

"SUB BF TIED IN BED"

"DOM GF PADDLES SUB BF"

This wasn’t a one time thing. My boyfriend had been downloading BDSM porn for a while, and it had spread onto his desktop page. There was probably much more of it in the other folders.

My heart raced. This was a secret. I wasn’t meant to be looking at this, I wasn’t meant to have found it out, but was it bad? Did it change things?

Well, it certainly cast things in a different light. Mark had always been shy, quiet, and…submissive. He wanted me to take control of our relationship and our sex life and, ever since I’d lost my confidence, he’d seemed to lose interest in sex altogether. Looking back, it made too much sense.

I was worried that our lives had become dull, but I had no idea that it went this far. I had lost my confidence and drive, and our marriage could suffer because of it.

Mark was more confident now, sure, but now that I knew that he liked dominant girls and wanted to be submissive to them, his behavior over the past few years made more sense. He would sometimes let the dirty dishes pile up in the sink and wait for me to tell him to clean them. He still let me choose where we’d eat and what we’d do on the weekends. He still told me to pick out his outfits for him, no matter how late for work we were.

I’d started to find some of those habits annoying, having grown tired of looking after him like a babysitter, but maybe that’s what he wanted. Even now, when he made more money than I did, was more confident than he had been, and was more successful, he still wanted me to be in charge.

I looked at his desktop again and the porn on it no longer seemed like a dirty secret.  I tried to imagine what my sister or my friends would do in a situation like this, and I came to the conclusion that most of them would break up with their boyfriends, even if they had found "vanilla" porn on their computers.

But I wasn’t going to do that. In fact, I found myself…excited. Discovering this had made me remember the confidence I’d lost, made me realize that it had aroused my boyfriend, and made me want to reclaim it. I was beginning to feel empowered, driven, and awakened.

My husband was on a business trip, but he was going to be back on Monday. I didn’t have long, and there was a lot to do.

By the time Mark arrived at the apartment, I had watched the videos on his desktop, and a few others that I had searched for myself. I had also gone shopping.

When Mark opened the door to our bedroom, he found me standing next to our bed. His eyes widened, the color drained from his face, and his backpack slid from his arm, and I couldn’t blame him.

Usually, I wore sweatpants and a hoodie at home, and what I was wearing at that moment was about the furthest thing from that. I stood tall, my feet covered in black, high-heeled boots that rose all the way to the middle of my thighs. I wore fishnet tights, a leather garter belt, a leather thong, a latex mini skirt, a leather corset, and latex gloves that ended at my biceps.

The outfit was a near perfect replica of the outfit the "Dom GF" wore in the first video I’d seen on Mark’s laptop.

"Uh," Mark said, "hi."

"Hi," I said.

"What’s going on?" he asked.

"Sit down and we’ll talk about it," I commanded.

And we did. For a couple of hours, I told Mark about how I found the videos on his computer, how I’d seen them, and how they made me feel. He was clearly concerned that I’d gotten scared, or turned off, or disgusted, but he was surprised when I told him that I’d felt the opposite.  

I liked the videos. I liked how they made me feel, and I wanted to learn more.

If you don’t have experience with BDSM, you need to know that it’s all about rules, communication, and mutual safety and understanding. Everything that you and your partner will do must be talked about in a safe environment, and both parties must clearly express what they like, how they like it to be done, and how far they’re willing to go. If, at any point, one partner feels uncomfortable or unsafe, then the other partner must stop.

We had many discussions about what we liked, and we did months of research before we ever started our game. When the time came, we knew what we were doing, how we’d do it, and how far each of us was willing to go. We also had a safe word for stopping the game and going back to our normal roles.

But, now that we had covered that, it was time to play our game.

At the start, Mark and I engaged in some foreplay.

I held a dildo in my hands, wielding it like a baton, directing Mark to kneel in front of me. I walked around him, his eyes trailing to follow my every move. He was naked, blushing, and breathing quickly. And he was harder than I’d ever seen him. He hadn’t even had an erection like that on our wedding night.

As I walked, I used the dildo to stimulate my nipples, lips, and breasts. Mark swallowed hard. I could tell that he wanted to get up and please me, but he knew he couldn’t. He wouldn’t be allowed to move until I’d said so. That was part of our game.

I kneeled behind him and brought the tip of the dildo toward his anus, tracing its lips with the dildo’s rumbling tip.

Mark moaned, his voice desperate with need.

I felt the power again, the confidence rushing underneath my skin like hot blood. I was in charge. We both knew it and we both loved it.

I removed the dildo and walked around Mark until I faced him, sitting on the edge of the bed in front of him. I stretched my right leg out and let the tip of my leather boot touch Mark’s parted lips.

"Lick," I commanded, and he did. He licked the tip of my boot, its sole, and moved all the way up to my thighs, leaving a wet sheen that made the leather as glossy as latex. Mark’s lips trembled with excited arousal, the drool dripping from them to his toned, hard body.

Anal sex is a little complicated because the anus doesn’t self-lubricate. That’s alright though, like most things in sex and pleasure, the harder you have to work toward something, the better it feels.

I traced the outer rim of Mark’s anus with my finger, massaging it in order to loosen the muscles. The sphincter and anus are filled with strong muscles and powerful nerves, and carry some of the most tension in a human body. There’s power there, if you can control it, power enough to release stress and to make even the most quiet man shriek with pleasure.

I inserted my finger into Mark’s anus slowly, massaging as I went, loosening the tight sphincter muscles.

Mark was already moaning and grunting with pleasure, the tiniest movements of my finger touching nerves and releasing stress, tension, and a little restrained joy.

In a few seconds, there would be nothing restrained, or subtle, about Mark’s pleasure and sexual delight.

We both knew what was coming next. I commanded Mark to kneel on all fours as I set up the strap on. It was a dual-ended dildo and vibrator, with one end going inside me and the other meant to go inside Mark. It would please both of us, as would everything else that we would do.

I covered the strap-on with lube, using just enough to make the insertion smooth and painless, but not too much to clog things up or make them uncomfortable. I’d tried it on myself beforehand to make sure.

"Take a deep breath," I commanded, and I felt Mark stiffen and loosen as the breath entered and left his body, taking his apprehension with it. All that was left was arousal and excitement.

I traced the outer rim of his anus with the vibrating strap on. When it touched his skin, it pushed the other end of the strap on into me, teasing the inside of my vagina. Then I began to drive the tip of the strap on into Mark’s ass, moving slowly and with purpose. I stopped after every inch or so, letting the strap on vibrate and loosen Mark from the inside while I reached around and stimulated his hard manhood.

I rubbed and massaged his hot, hard, and sweaty body with my latex gloves, loosening the tension everywhere I touched even as I drove the strap on deeper into his ass. The moans and grunts coming from Mark were music to my ears. So I drove deeper, positioning the strap on just right to hit his P-spot.

Mark grunted and screamed with orgasmic pleasure. I had known him for more than a decade, and he’d usually make little to no noise in bed. But this was a shriek of pure pleasure. He couldn’t help but let it out, even if it probably alerted every neighbor within a five mile radius to what we were doing.

After we were done, we talked about how we felt, about the boundaries, speed, and expectations that we’d had.

This was a game we repeated at least once a week and, with it, our relationship changed. I felt my confidence blooming outside of our bedroom. I had studied film because I wanted to be an actress. With Mark, I got to play the role of a lifetime. I commanded him in his role, put him in his place, and made sure we both enjoyed it.

At work, I felt myself becoming more outspoken, more present, and more demanding. Some days, I had to double check that I wasn’t wearing my dom outfit under my work clothes. It felt like a part of me, like the real me, in many ways.

Mark grew more confident too. He was only submissive in the bedroom, but he was more relaxed, more at ease, and I understood why. This kink had been a secret that he’d carried for who knows how long. He probably felt ashamed of it, probably feared that I’d find out one day and react the wrong way. Now that it was out and he knew that I loved it, it was as if a weight had been lifted, one that I hadn’t even known was there.

I can say, without a doubt, that finding that old laptop saved my marriage and gave me back my confidence. As I write this, wearing my dom outfit, I can’t help but smile thinking of the girl I was just a few months ago. I had been asleep, fading, lost. Now I am confident, awake, and dominant. And aroused. That too. Because Mark is about to get home, and our game is about to begin once again.

THE END.

Written by: F. Inglewood

F. Inglewood is a writer who strives to transport readers into vivid, personal and erotic worlds. Each of their stories is a sensual escapade that you might find yourself daydreaming about. After all, it could happen to you!