A Wife's Control [( Moirae & Raveled )]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: desert ashes on 16-11-2009, 23:10:22</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>A Wife's Control [( Moirae &amp; Raveled )]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>desert ashes</strong> on <strong>16-11-2009, 23:10:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v335/iconofroses/SerenaWade-2.png)</div>&nbsp; <br>This was the last straw.&nbsp; Serena Wade nearly screamed as she stood in the entry of the kitchen's backdoor, grasping so hard onto the handle of her briefcase that her knuckles were white, and stared at the utter chaos before her.&nbsp; The kitchen hadn't been like this when she'd left this morning.&nbsp; It'd been spotless, just as she liked it.&nbsp; Now, signs of her husband's foraging were clear -- a discarded pan in the sink (not even soaking!), dishes left on the counter, empty beer cans left on the table, scuff marks marred her beautiful and expensive tiled floor.&nbsp; And was that... <em>No.</em>&nbsp; Her jaw clenched as her eyes narrowed on the dotted trail of ketchup leading from the kitchen and down the hallway, likely to the living room where she could just barely hear sounds of a football game.&nbsp; In typical fashion Nathan Wade hadn't given a damn.&nbsp; <br><br>Uncharacteristically Serena tossed her briefcase onto the table and slammed the kitchen door shut behind her.&nbsp; Sharply her thin heels clicked on the tile as she swiftly strode from the kitchen and headed for the living room, loosening the Italian silk scarf from her neck as she went.&nbsp; Any other day she would've taken at least a few moments to enjoy the decor of their home -- the high priced, two story colonial manor in the exclusive community that she'd outright paid for, decorated with furnishings that had cost nearly a quarter of what had been a very generous six figure salary.&nbsp; For years she had been the bread winner between them, and, much to her despair, seemingly the only one who cared about their present and future.&nbsp; When was the last time he'd even bothered to see how her day went?&nbsp; Likely just as long as he'd bothered to bring her to orgasm -- eons.&nbsp; <br><br>That was all going to change, she mused as she stepped into the doorway of the living room.&nbsp; There he was, just as she'd suspected -- propped on the couch, his "comfort" food spread out over the three thousand dollar coffee table and his dirty boots propped up right beside them.&nbsp; He seemed completely absorbed in the football game that roared in front of him.&nbsp; &nbsp;Had he even heard her come home?&nbsp; Her full mouth briefly pinched as her arms crossed under the generous swell of her breasts, the Italian silk of her suit shifting alluring over the curves of her sweetly curved, full figured body.&nbsp; Serena had never been skinny or slender in her life, but she was healthy, attractive and knew she took very good care of herself.&nbsp; It baffled her that she could solicit numerous affair offers and yet seemed to fail at enticing her husband the last few years.<br><br>Purposely she waited, watching the game until she knew that moment would be coming -- the great highlight of the game that no sports fan ever wanted to miss.&nbsp; She'd overheard so many of these blasted games to recognize when one was coming; she could tell just by the way her husband's shoulders were starting to tense, he was sitting a little straighter in the couch.&nbsp; The game announcer was getting excited.&nbsp; There should have been a commercial by now.&nbsp; The announcer's tone grew louder, quicker; on the television set she could see the team moving out of the huddle.&nbsp; The play -- the last of the game according to the clock -- was going to start. <br><br>Clearing her throat, Serena came forward from the doorway.&nbsp; In the blink of an eye, she swooped in to the television, plucking up the remote and descending the game into utter blackness before a word of protest could be said.&nbsp; With steel glinting in her eyes, she spun on her heel to face her husband and block the darkened set, the remote held captive in her hand.&nbsp; <br><br>"Nathan.&nbsp; We need to talk.&nbsp; <em>Now.</em>"&nbsp; Barely controlled fury bubbled in her voice, came through in the hard stance of her body, and yet her voice barely raised beyond a cold, murderous whisper.&nbsp; If he thought a simple apology for the kitchen was going to get him out of it this time he had another thing coming... 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Wife's Control</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Raveled</strong> on <strong>27-11-2009, 16:54:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nathan was sitting at the edge of his seat, quite literally, all of his attention fixed on the rectangle of the television screen.&nbsp; His body was tense, his eyes were shining, and he was whispering almost inaudibly under his breath.&nbsp; When the image flickered out of existence he blinked and glanced around, certain at first that there had been some kind of power outage.&nbsp; Instead, there was simply Serena, standing over him.&nbsp; The man's face twisted into a snarl and he vaulted upright, ending up with his face only a few inches from hers.&nbsp; "What the hell is this?" he demanded.&nbsp; "You couldn't wait ten minutes?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Wife's Control</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>desert ashes</strong> on <strong>28-11-2009, 06:03:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				For a moment her eyes widened when he was suddenly there before her, his quickness something she hadn't quite expected from him.&nbsp; Still, she kept her ground and felt her back straightening, her chest raised as she narrowed her eyes at him.&nbsp; One hand rose from her hip to firmly push him back down to the couch.&nbsp; "Oh no, you sit right there -- you should be good at that," she coldly snapped.&nbsp; "Maybe if I'm not still too mad at you I'll let you check the game scores later on, but for now you're going to shut up and listen to me, Nathan."<br><br>A deep breath drawn in she tried to soothe some of the tension that held her shoulders firm.&nbsp; "This is a wake up call, Nathan.&nbsp; Our marriage is failing.&nbsp; We're failing each other.&nbsp; This is me saving our marriage."&nbsp; Clearing her throat, she glanced down at her watch.&nbsp; This was her saving her damn sanity.&nbsp; Here was where she faltered just a little and had to quickly mentally recollect herself.&nbsp; <em>Be stern, damnit.</em>&nbsp; &nbsp;"You have precisely fifteen minutes to clean up that chaos in the kitchen and return to here to the living room."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Wife's Control [( Moirae &amp; Raveled )]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Raveled</strong> on <strong>29-11-2009, 18:12:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nathan hadn't let himself go like some men in his situation -- good job, stable marriage, patient wife.&nbsp; Still, sitting on the couch and looking up at her, he was suddenly aware that Selena was in much better shape than he was.&nbsp; "Honey," he said, his voice taking on a wheedling tone.&nbsp; "I just got back from that big business trip."&nbsp; The big business trip that had taken him out of town for three days.&nbsp; "I'm tired, from working for three days straight."&nbsp; 'Working' with the local manager in the hotel's bed -- he would never admit how little he'd actually sold that trip.&nbsp; "I just wanted to catch the end of the game, and then I was going to clean up the kitchen.&nbsp; Promise."&nbsp; His eyes flicked from his wife's face to the remote in her hand, to the dark television.&nbsp; It was just possible to still catch the after-game show...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Wife's Control [( Moirae &amp; Raveled )]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>desert ashes</strong> on <strong>29-11-2009, 18:49:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>"</strong>I don't care if you just swam the bloody English channel,<strong>"</strong> she said icily and calmly as she glanced down at the trim watch on her wrist.&nbsp; <strong>"</strong>You're now at thirteen minutes.&nbsp; I'm feeling compelled to mention that you will be punished for every minute that you're late.<strong>"</strong>&nbsp; The words were said so casually now as she clasped her hands, and the remote, behind her back, hiding the object of his desire.&nbsp; Her brows lifted as she returned her steady gaze to him and lips pursed.&nbsp; There wasn't a hint of compromise in her stance.&nbsp; <strong>"</strong>You have twelve minutes now.<strong>"</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Wife's Control [( Moirae &amp; Raveled )]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Raveled</strong> on <strong>04-12-2009, 04:11:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nathan stared for a moment, stunned.&nbsp; In seven years of marriage, Serena had never spoken to him like that.&nbsp; She subtly shifted her weight, and it was that small thing that broke him out of his stupor.&nbsp; He lurched forward, grabbing up dishes in a precarious stack.&nbsp; He wasted precious minutes walking, very carefully, into the kitchen, making sure not to drop a single dish or wrapper.&nbsp; The plates clattered into the sink for a moment as he opened the dishwasher, chucking in a washer tab from under the sink.&nbsp; The dishes all went in the washer; the wrappers went in the trash can; he filled up the sink with hot water, squeezed in some of blue liquid dish cleaner, and set the pan to soaking.&nbsp; He barely remembered to punch the buttons on the dishwasher and start the machine running.<br><br>Nathan leaned in the doorway connected the kitchen and the living room, staring at Serena, mouth hanging open.&nbsp; "What... what is this?&nbsp; What is coming over you, hon?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Wife's Control [( Moirae &amp; Raveled )]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>desert ashes</strong> on <strong>04-12-2009, 20:40:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Wisely Serena used the time it took him to clean, briefly leaving the living room to hang her coat in the front closet.&nbsp; In her head she went through every bit of advice and research she'd gone through since this idea had taken shape.&nbsp; It'd been about three months ago when she'd started to think about the state of their marriage and how bitterly unhappy she was.&nbsp; Then she'd heard such a casual comment in the ladies' room at the office, one of the senior partners on her cellphone to her husband.&nbsp; She'd been informing him -- directing him, really -- to be waiting for him when she got home for his daily lesson.&nbsp; That alone had spurred her into digging around the internet and then a week ago knocking on her co-worker's door.&nbsp; <br><br>The fact that Nathan had already responded was a promising one.&nbsp; Now she just had to stay unwavering.&nbsp; <br><br>When he came to the doorway she was standing casually beside the couch, her hands clasped calmly behind her.&nbsp; <strong>"</strong>Although you're speaking without permission, I'll forgive that as we haven't yet gone over the ground rules.&nbsp; However, you are four minutes beyond the allotted time.&nbsp; Remove your clothing and go stand in the corner.&nbsp; Afterward we'll go over the rules.<strong>"</strong>&nbsp; <em>Calm, controlled, collected.... calm, controlled, collected... It's just like a board meeting, Serena.&nbsp; </em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Wife's Control [( Moirae &amp; Raveled )]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Raveled</strong> on <strong>09-12-2009, 21:41:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Remove my..." Nathan goggled at his wife, not really understanding.&nbsp; "Serena, if there's something you want to talk about, we can."&nbsp; He rubbed at his face, feeling the perspiration he built up in his sudden cleaning frenzy.&nbsp; "I know I messed up, but it's just been a hell of a day, ya know?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Wife's Control [( Moirae &amp; Raveled )]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>desert ashes</strong> on <strong>10-12-2009, 02:39:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Serena let out a long, quiet sigh and flicked her eyes down to her watch before unbuttoning her jacket, moving the lapels aside to freely unlatch her trim, black leather belt.&nbsp; A hint of impatience flared in her tone and she narrowed her eyes at him.&nbsp; <strong>"</strong>Remove your clothes and stand in the corner.&nbsp; I didn't realize you were incapable of understanding simple directions.&nbsp; If that's the case we'll do it the hard way.<strong>"</strong>&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Wife's Control [( Moirae &amp; Raveled )]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Raveled</strong> on <strong>11-12-2009, 20:57:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Eying the belt uneasily, Nathan held up his hands in mock surrender.&nbsp; He stripped his shirt off quickly and laid it over the back of the couch, following it with his pants, finally setting his shoes and belt on top.&nbsp; He walked to the corner and stood there, clad only in his underthings, facing his wife uneasily.&nbsp; "Now what is going on, Serena?"
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>