Dominating another woman: Jean's challenge

When I wake in the middle of the night and can't get back to sleep I find I have to break the impasse, so I get up, have a little tub of lactose-free vanilla yoghurt and sit down and write myself a smutty tale. After that, I wander back to bed, encase myself in my husband's body and sleep a wonderfully deep sleep. Highly recommended for all perverted insomniacs out there. And, don't worry about the quality of your tale. Really, anything very smutty will do the trick!

 Jean bathed herself and applied her make-up carefully; put on the long looped silver ear-rings and the solid silver necklace around her neck. She applied a little perfume to the back of each ear and a slight spray to one wrist. As Jean rubbed her wrists together she allowed herself a fleeting moment of apprehension about the requirements of the day. It was not her way to move too far ahead in her mind. It was her way of controlling nerves that could too easily run a muck. Instead, she checked the time and noted that she was running according to schedule.

Jean picked up the printed out email again and checked the dress instructions one last time. She put on black panties, the black suspender belt and attached sheer black stockings to the loops; slipped her feet into the black suede, high heels pumps. Jean reached for the quarter-cut bra now and put the item around her breasts. She checked her reflection in the mirror and took in the fact that she was scantily and titillatingly dressed. Not permitted a dress, she put her coat over her undergarments, checked that her hair was in order, collected her keys, printed email and handbag, and went down to her car. 

It was a half hour drive to her destination, she had predicted. On this day, in a house she did not know, Jon would be waiting. If she were off to meet him alone her only real concern would be that she may become lost; that her car should break down and someone would learn of her state of dress below the coat. Jon wasn't always tender with her, thankfully, but he was a known quantity. She trusted him.

Today, Jon had told her in the email, would be a new experience. Today, another girl had been invited to play with them and Jean understood that she would be challenged. She would need to quash her jealousy, perhaps. To see Jon's hands on another woman would not be easy. Under his careful direction and choreography, Jean was confident that she could abide by his desires of her; allow this other woman to test and tease her; to touch her in a way that no woman had ever touched her before. 

Jean's mind had played with the thought since the email arrived in her in box three days ago and she was opening herself to the thought that she might enjoy it; might melt into the touch of womanly hands; womanly lips; soft, gentle embraces. She hadn't quite managed to embrace the thought that the woman may not be tender at all; that she may be in the company of a bitch. Jean decided to expunge the thought before it took hold of her nerves because the thought truly terrified her.

 

Breathing deeply and calm again, Jean's mind roamed over past conversations with Jon and for reasons she did not know it rested on a particular conversation at the Supper Club a few weeks ago. He had asked a question softly, almost absentmindedly; as if it were of no importance at all; a passing fancy. 'Do you ever imagine controlling a woman; providing her with pain?' he asked. Jean had shaken her head immediately. No, she had never thought about that, could never do that, she told him. He changed the subject and the matter was closed.

Driving along the coastal highway, with the vision of the ocean soothing and settling her mind, the potential implications of the casual statement suddenly settled in Jean's brain and her mouth registered a silent 'Oooooo'. Anything, but that.  Jean couldn't do that. No sooner had the silent sound reverberated in her mind when another thought took over. Jon was not someone to be denied. Ever. She'd tried that before, a long time ago now and never would again. Whatever her resistance at this moment, it needed to be overcome.

As the car made its way down the Peninsula Jean allowed images of dominating another woman to enter her consciousness. In an effort to spur herself on she imagined that the woman had whipped her and gained pleasure from the experience. She'd laughed while Jean cried. No man had ever done that to her. She was right to be suspicious of women after all.

As she lay across a bench breathing heavily, tears rolling down her face and trying to recover her composure, she imagined Jon's whisper in her ear. "Now, it's your turn, darlin'. Show that tart what you think of her." Something in Jean stirred at the thought. She imagined the woman's prone buttocks at her mercy now and she imagined the feel of the whip in her hands.

The trip had been faster than she expected and without incident. His instructions had been straightforward and easy to follow. Jean turned off the ignition, locked the car and walked tall to the front door of the white wooden house. She was ready to be good, or bad; to do whatever she was told, as always. 

(to be continued, maybe)