Unexpected Top (Ball & Chain) (4 page)

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Authors: Cassandra Carr

Tags: #Erotica

BOOK: Unexpected Top (Ball & Chain)
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His ass, still firmly planted in the chair at the café, tingled.

Shit. Dammit. Fuck. What the hell is going on here?

There was no way he could stand up or walk right now. Len tried to think unsexy thoughts, but his prick staunchly refused to calm down. Luckily he was able to get back to the office seemingly without any of his officemates seeing his erection, and went directly to a seldom-used bathroom on an empty floor in his building.

Closing the door firmly behind him, he went into a stall and locked it. It took far too long to free his raging hard-on, but with a sigh his zipper finally slackened. Shutting his eyes, he gave in to his fantasy.

Cissy was wearing one of those corsets he liked so much, along with a short skirt and high heels, and she looked sexy as hell. But she wasn’t happy. She’d used their cuffs to restrain his hands behind his back, and now he knelt before her while she yelled at him about his swearing and a bunch of other stuff. Then, after forcing him to stand, she undid his belt buckle, tossed the belt aside and opened his pants, pulling them and his boxers to his knees.

His cock was already starting to leak, and he let his pants drop farther before tucking his dress shirt under his chin.

She turned him around and made him bend over the end of their bed, his face in the floral comforter and his shoulders straining from his wrists being held behind his back. He felt something cool touch his ass and a few seconds later pain exploded through it as Cissy gave him the first stroke with his own belt. Things began to blur as she used all her strength to make that wide, supple belt bite into his defenseless ass cheeks again and again.

Len’s hand blurred too, stroking his dick faster and faster.

All Len could feel was pain, though a strange sense of peace was mixed in. Most of all he was regretting letting Cissy down. His ass seemed to double in size as Cissy laid on stroke after stroke with the evil piece of leather. Finally he cried out and she stopped, telling him he’d get the same thing again the next time she heard him swear or he broke another rule. He promised to be a good boy and she left him there, his bright-red ass on display as he lay on the bed. The pain was absolute, but in an odd way, he loved it. It meant Cissy cared and he was forgiven.

He bit his lip to the point of blood. Len’s eyes flew open and he came all over his hand, the floor, and even hit the stall wall in front of him. He saw stars and his knees buckled, but luckily he was able to hold himself up with one hand and the help of the other stall wall behind him.

He was panting as if he’d just finished a triathlon and as he drew his cum-covered hand away from his spent cock, it was shaking. Len closed his eyes again as shame set in. Why the fuck did that fantasy turn him on so much? Then the guilt got worse as he realized he’d just sworn inside his own head, had done one of the very things that had gotten him punished in his fantasy. Half expecting Cissy to barge in with that infernal belt, he listened for a moment but heard nothing.

Finally he was able to grab a bunch of toilet paper and clean himself off. When he realized small drops of cum dotted his pants and even his shoes, he groaned and did the best he could with those. Luckily his suit jacket was in his office. Even though he detested wearing suits and it would be hotter than hell in the office with the jacket on, Len didn’t have much of a choice if he couldn’t get the cum out of his clothes.

With still-shaking hands, Len exited the stall, grabbed paper towels and watered them down before wiping off the floor and the wall of the stall. He washed his hands and straightened all his clothing. No one who saw him would know he’d just come like a fucking rocket to the thought of his wife belting his bare ass. He hoped.

Len went back to work, but his mind continued to swirl. Later that night, Cissy had gone to her friend’s house, and Len decided to do some research into this spanking thing—see if there were other men who were turned-on by the thought of a woman spanking them bright red.

As he was typing a URL into the address window, several other addresses popped up to autofill the entry. Curious, he clicked on the first one and found it was a website devoted to dominant wives. Again his cock stirred, but before he could lose himself in that site, he looked at the others and found similar things, plus a website about men taking their women in hand. It appeared Cissy had been doing some research on her own. He continued to explore and one website in particular caught his eye. On it, women talked about exactly how to control a man, and Len noticed some of the things Cissy had been doing lately were outlined there.

The men being controlled each had a journal of sorts online where they talked about their experiences, and included in those journals were pictures of their asses after punishments. He swallowed thickly as he saw pictures with obvious belt marks, some sort of raised welts and all manner of other things. Those punishments must’ve been really painful and he felt sorry for the guys who’d had to endure them. But then he started reading their journals. None of them felt sorry for themselves. Their wives had made rules, and when they broke those rules their wives punished them. It seemed so simple.

But he had so many questions. Why were the wives the only ones allowed to make the rules? What happened if one of them broke a rule? And why did the husbands agree to ceding control to their wives? And he’d seen that FLR website. None of the men there were submissive to their wives—it was exactly the opposite. He was so confused. One thing couldn’t be denied though. The more he read, the more turned-on he got.

Jumping up, he closed the laptop and went to The List. He needed to come like he needed his next breath and Cissy would be home soon. What chore could he complete to get a reward?

As he was finishing up with mopping the kitchen floor after having wiped down all the cabinetry, Cissy walked in and raised a brow. He couldn’t help the sheepish grin, but Cissy just laughed and tiptoed across the room in her bare feet so as not to disturb his mopping. A few minutes later Len found her in the bedroom waiting for him. She put him on his back on the bed and tugged his shorts and boxers off, throwing them in the hamper and then returning to him.

“Do you want me to cuff you?”

Fuck yes.

“No.”

“Okay.”

Len blew out a loud breath.
Honesty, dude. Man up.
“Yes, tie me up.”

After restraining him, she first licked his dick like a lollipop for long moments, and he was about to complain how she was teasing him when she swallowed him whole and
he
nearly swallowed his tongue.

He barely held in a “fuuuuck” and instead let out a groan as her lips closed around his cock head. Everything he’d been thinking about and all the stuff he’d seen online came rushing back and despite his earlier orgasm he came quickly, bowing off the bed and trying to force his dick farther into Cissy’s mouth. It was only a little after nine p.m. when they finished, but he was asleep within seconds, still half dressed.

* * * * *

 

The next morning, he woke refreshed and rolled on top of his still-sleeping wife. During the night she’d shed her clothes, as she tended to get hot as the night went on, and he nuzzled into her breasts. Reaching between them, he gently guided his morning wood into her pussy and she stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

He smirked at her surprised expression. “Good morning.”

“Morning. Feeling horny?”

“Yep. And look, there’s a nice, warm female right on the other side of my bed.”

“How convenient for you.”

“I thought so.” He began to thrust slowly, letting her natural lubrication ease his way. As he continued to thrust, though, and she counteracted his actions, he didn’t feel that familiar stirring in the small of his back. Usually it was easy for him to come early in the morning. Was it because of the two orgasms he’d had yesterday? He tried not to panic as he moved faster and harder in and out of Cissy’s tight sheath.

Len glanced at the clock. They’d now been going at it for almost ten minutes and would be late for work if he didn’t get a move on. His cock was still hard, but he wasn’t even close to an orgasm. What the fuck was going on?

Cissy threw him a strange look and he knew his frustration must be showing. Why couldn’t he come? Cissy felt good. What was wrong?

With a sigh, he pulled out. What could he say to her when he didn’t have any idea what was happening?

“We’re running out of time. Why don’t we try this again later?” Avoiding her eyes, he turned and headed for the bathroom.

“O-okay…”

Len felt horrible.
He’d never walked away in the middle of sex before. And Cissy hadn’t come again. No wonder she was pissed off at him. He knew she had a vibrator, but part of his job as a husband was seeing to his wife’s needs, and it was becoming increasingly obvious he wasn’t doing that.

After taking a quick shower he grabbed a granola bar and was out of the house before Cissy had even come out of the bathroom from her own shower. He just couldn’t face her, feeling like such a fucking failure as a man and a husband.

On the way to work, Len turned the incident over and over in his mind. What was different about this time versus all the other times he’d had sex with Cissy?

Len swerved, nearly taking out a parked car when the answer came to him. He’d been in control, much like most of their other sexual encounters before the past couple of weeks, and that was the problem. What the fuck? Did it really mean that much to give up control to Cissy? Wasn’t he the man, the one who was supposed to fuck the woman?

Chapter Four

 

Len slogged through work that day, weighed down by that morning’s events. As five o’clock approached he sent a text to Cissy that he was going out for drinks with some clients and not to expect him until later. He knew it was cowardly, but he just couldn’t face her right now.

He didn’t have drinks with clients, of course. No, like a loser he went to a sports bar alone and sat there watching a baseball game while he nursed a beer. His mood got darker and darker, and he caught the bartender’s eye.

“Shot of JD, please.” Without a word, the bartender poured the shot. Len downed it. “Another.”

Now the man glanced at him with that patented “sympathetic bartender” look. “Bad day, bud?”

“You could say that.” He pounded the second shot and reached for his beer to chase it down. While the guy probably would be sympathetic—it was practically in his job description—Len wasn’t about to go telling some stranger he hadn’t been able to perform. And maybe it was a one-time deal. He’d been telling himself that very thing all day, but his stupid brain kept arguing it wasn’t.

The other man nodded and gestured with the bottle in his hand. “Want another one?”

“Nah, I’m good for now.”

“Might wanna eat something.”

Len grunted and the man replaced the bottle on the shelf behind the bar before moving away to take care of other customers. Eating would defeat the purpose of slamming two shots in a row. He was in the mood to get a good drunk on and he wasn’t about to let food destroy that.

He had one more beer and two more shots and knew he shouldn’t be driving home. Looking at his watch, he saw it was almost eleven. Too late to call Cissy to come pick him up.

“Hey, man,” he addressed the bartender with the universal greeting for dudes he didn’t know, “could you call me a cab?”

“Sure thing.” The guy made the call and then cashed Len out. “Cab’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.”

“Sorry you had a bad day. That sucks. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.” Len snorted and the bartender gave him a small smile. “Well, if not, I’ll be here then too.”

The cabbie honked his horn outside and Len sent the bartender a brief salute as he left. On his way home, he debated what to say to Cissy. He could hardly tell her the truth he wasn’t even willing to admit to himself.

By the time the cab pulled into his driveway, Len was no closer to figuring out a good way to approach his wife. When Cissy opened the door before he even reached the porch, a strange look playing across her features, he stumbled and she darted out to grab him.

“You took a cab home?”

“Yeah.”

She studied his face and Len resisted the urge to squirm. “How much did you guys have to drink?”

Len jerked away from her. “Does it matter? I was a good boy. I didn’t drive.”

“What’s going on? Are you angry about something?”

He’d made it halfway across the room and was about to mount the stairs, but he pivoted, grabbing the railing for support. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. I’m the man of this house and I can do what I want.” Len knew he sounded like a petulant child, but between the alcohol and his general state of mind, he wasn’t in the mood to be quizzed.

“Where is this coming from?”

“You wanna control me.” When Cissy’s face went blank he plowed on. “Yeah, I found those websites you’ve been looking at. Giving me all those sexual favors is your way of controlling me, your way of getting me to do what you want. Well, fuck that. I’m the man, not you.”

“Oh you’re the man all right,” she answered with deadly calm. An alarm went off in the back of his head but he was too fuzzy to pay it much heed. “You’re the man, and you do what you want. That’s true enough. But there are two of us here, Len. Two of us in this marriage, and I’m tired of being the one who’s expected to not only work full-time but also to do most of the housework, the grocery shopping and the laundry. I’m not your maid, I’m your wife, and it’s time I got the respect I deserve. So yeah, I was trying to reward you for doing stuff for me in order to encourage you. How is that a bad thing? We both get something we want.”

“I don’t want to be controlled!”

Her voice remained quiet, but the color was high in her cheeks. “I’ve tried a million times to ask you to do more around the house, to cajole you, even to nag you. None of it worked, so I took more drastic measures. And it’s not just about the housework. That’s what I started with because it seemed like the easiest thing to fix.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

She gestured toward him. “This. I’m talking about this. The swearing. The disrespect. Did you ever notice that when we have sex—on your timeframe, I might add, not mine—I hardly ever come? I give you a blowjob almost every time, but you almost never go down on me. Then when you get ready to go, you rut on me like a bull on a cow. Have you even noticed I haven’t had an orgasm during sex in years?”

Len was stunned into silence even as his mouth hung open.

Cissy wasn’t done. Her tone turned vicious and he felt about two inches tall. “The look on your face tells me everything I need to know. So yes, I tried to control you. I did it to save our marriage. I can’t go on like this. I feel like I’m down around number five or six on your priority list.” Her hand slashed the air when he tried to speak. “I thought maybe if we started with something that was easily fixable we could move on to the harder stuff. But right now I’m tired and I’m going to bed. I have to work tomorrow. If you think you’re going to puke you’d better get a pan to put by the bed.”

She rushed past him and up the stairs before he could unlock his jaw. Was it really as bad as Cissy said? Was their marriage in trouble? He’d always taken it for granted Cissy would be with him forever. She was one of the only women he’d ever dated, and the only one he’d ever wanted to stay with.

Len actually smacked himself upside the head. Then, as the realization of exactly how much he’d had to drink dawned on him, he swayed. Yeah, he’d taken her for granted, all right. What had he been thinking? Through his own fucking stupidity he was throwing away the best thing that had ever happened to him. He guessed he’d figured she’d always be there, no matter what.

He followed Cissy up the stairs slowly, his tread heavy. Len was exhausted, but surprisingly sober. Hearing Cissy go off on him had shaken off the alcohol buzz pretty quickly. She was already in bed, her back turned to him. When he came around the end of the bed and spotted the tears tracking down her face, he sobered even more.

Dropping to his knees, he crooned, “Cissy, baby.” Len gently pushed her hair out of her face. “Don’t cry. I’m an ass. Or, well, a jerk.” She sniffled but didn’t contradict him. “We’ll work this out. Don’t give up on me. Can you take tomorrow off?”

She nodded and he leaned forward to kiss her head. Cissy grabbed the back of his neck and held his lips to hers. “I love you,” she choked out.

“Oh honey, I love you too. And I’m so sorry. We’ll figure this out. I promise.” Pulling the thin coverlet up, he tucked it around her. ”Get some sleep. We’ll call in sick in the morning and then talk as long as we need to, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Satisfied the crisis was at least temporarily averted, Len went into the bathroom, exiting a few moments later and climbing into bed next to his wife. He had to fix this. He had to. Life without Cissy was just too horrible to contemplate.

* * * * *

 

Cissy lay awake for a long time, listening to Len’s slow, even breathing. No doubt the alcohol was helping him sleep. She had no such luck. Could she believe Len was sorry and wanted to fix things? It felt as if their entire marriage predicated on what happened in the morning.

When that morning came, Cissy gave up on sleep and rose, padding into the bathroom to shower. That task completed, she stepped into the bedroom to get dressed and call in sick to work, expecting to see Len still sound asleep, but the bed was empty. Turning toward the door, she sniffed. Coffee and something else. Was Len making breakfast? The mind boggled.

Throwing on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, Cissy then walked downstairs, not sure what she’d find. She nearly fell over when she took in Len with an apron over his bare chest and a pair of shorts, turning eggs in a pan. Cissy couldn’t remember the last time he’d made breakfast. Had he
ever
made breakfast?

“Hey. Did you call in yet?”

“N-no. I’ll go right now.”

“Don’t take too long. I’ve got bacon too and the eggs are almost ready.”

Who are you and what have you done with my husband? And when did you learn how to cook breakfast?

“I’ll hurry.” In a daze she walked out of the kitchen. She couldn’t get over it. Len had made breakfast. Of his own volition.

Maybe he
was
serious about trying to fix their marriage.

A spark of hope rose within her, but she forced herself to tamp it down. Unless and until Len proved to her he was serious, that this wasn’t a one-time thing because he felt guilty about drinking too much the night before, she couldn’t put too much stock in it.

She called her office and then returned to the kitchen just as Len was setting two laden plates down on the table. He’d already fixed her coffee, and when she took a sip she was surprised he’d gotten the proportions right.

He cocked a brow at her. “You think after, what, fifteen years with you I didn’t know you take your coffee with a lot of half-n-half and a little bit of sugar?” Cissy blushed and Len smiled. “Sit and eat before it gets cold.”

“It looks great,” she ventured, still not sure what to make of this man. Maybe he’d been abducted by aliens during the middle of the night. Aliens who, instead of doing gross tests on his person, taught him to be respectful and thoughtful. If she found out that was the case she’d probably kiss the poor things no matter what they looked like.

They ate in silence, each of them probably waiting for the other to start what might very well be an uncomfortable discussion. When he finished, Len stood and began to clean up and Cissy continued to eat, watching him in silence. By the time she took her last sip of coffee, Len was drying the frying pan from the eggs.

After putting it back in the drawer with the other pans, he leaned on the counter. “Want to talk outside?”

“Sure.” Together they went out onto their back deck, an area Cissy loved and one of the reasons she’d wanted to buy this house. They’d always known they weren’t going to have children, but Cissy had fallen in love with the large stamped-concrete patio that led into a landscaped yard, complete with perennial beds bursting with flowers. People said she was crazy, but Cissy found pulling weeds and tending to her beds very therapeutic.

“Sit with me.” Len indicated the porch swing and Cissy sank into it, grateful they could be close without having to look at each other. After her husband sat and began gently rocking them with one foot, he said, “I think we’ve both made mistakes, but I want to fix our marriage. You’re the most important thing in the world to me, and if I’ve made you feel any other way I’m sorry. I could make excuses, but I’m not going to. I do think both of us are lying to the other. Lying about what’s going on inside our heads, what we want and what we need.”

“Okay…” Cissy drew the word out, not sure where Len was going with this.

“I think if we’re going to move forward, we both have to be totally honest, no matter how stupid or embarrassed either of us feels.” He took a deep breath and Cissy chanced a glance at him. His face was red and he was rubbing his palms up and down the front of his shorts. “Here goes…I lied last night. About a lot of stuff.”

Bile rose in Cissy’s throat. “Lied?” The word came out as little more than a squeak.

“Yes.” He must’ve looked at her, because he rushed on. “But probably not what you think. I’m not cheating or anything.”

Cissy let out an audible breath. “Go on.”

“I didn’t go out with clients last night. I went to a sports bar by myself and drank myself silly.”

“Why?”

“Because I was totally freaked out. We had sex yesterday morning and I couldn’t finish.”

That’s what all this was about? Cissy wanted to laugh and scream in turn.

“That happens to everyone, hon. We were in a hurry—”

“That’s not why it happened.”

“Then why?”

His next words came out in a rush and she had to concentrate to understand him. “I think it was because I want to be tied up in bed. I don’t…I don’t
want
control in bed. Or maybe even out of it. And yesterday I was on top, I was the dominant one, and it just didn’t work.” Len swore softly, but it hardly registered. “I feel like such a wimp.”

She turned to face him. “You’re not a wimp.”

“Easy for you to say,” he grumbled, raking his hands through his hair. “You’re not the one who wants your wife to tie you up and blindfold you and spank—” He swore again and Cissy knew her eyes were practically bugging out of her head, but try as she might to school her expression, there was just too much information coming at her to properly process everything.

She latched on to his last word. “Spank?”

“Okay, so I said we needed to be honest, and I’m going to be. Please don’t laugh at me.”

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