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Chapter I. First, A Few Words About Ann!@END_FILE_ID.DIZ


 The females of this world have been handed an impossible image to live up to.
Magazines that display the loveliness of the female figure and put her charms
on display for all to see, have created a false image of female perfection.  I
know, as well as other men, that the women pictured in these magazines are
beautiful, desirous and wonderfully proportioned.  However, they are not
average women.  They are not the "perfect" female that they pretend to be.
They are an airbrushed idealization of female sexuality and eroticism.  As a
matter of fact as little as 50 years ago, they would not represent the ideal
female at all.

We are all victims of another man's images.  We males are forced into judging
our partners bodies against the false standards created by male ego and
insensitivities.

Most women see themselves as flawed in their own minds eye.  Most women feel
that some physical attribute is not right and wish that they could change it.
Some of the worlds most "beautiful" women feel inadequate in some area of
their appearance.  The truth is that the old adage that "beauty is in the eye
of the beholder" is accurate.

Ann, like many other women, never really felt beautiful.  No matter how many
times I told her that she was, she somehow failed to believe that.  Her
figure?  Well a 35-23-36 figure is nothing to be ashamed of.  But Ann didn't
think much of it.  Her breasts were too small, her waist too big and her rear
end too fat.  Besides, now she had a few stretch marks from mothering three
wonderful kids, now that was really something to be concerned about.  Ann's
belly button didn't sink in far enough. Her nose wasn't right because it has
this small bump on it. Her hair wasn't perfect either.  Ann was sure that I
could have married some other beauty queen was never fully sure why I married
her. She felt inadequate in many respects.  In short, Ann saw Ann through eyes
clouded by Hollywood image makers and Playboy plastic.  Ann did not see Ann
through the eyes of my love for her.

How did I see Ann?  Well surely this must be a different person because it
doesn't match the one she carried around.  I see Ann as a stunningly beautiful
female.  When we go out, it gives me great pleasure to see other men eyeing
her perfectly shaped legs, her pleasantly curved and sexy behind and her
small, wonderfully firm breasts.  I love the way her face radiates her
personality and her obvious joy with life.  I love the devotion that sparkles
in her eyes as she looks at me.  I am facinated by the curve of her lips, the
cuteness of her small nose (bump and all) and the soft brunette hair that
frames her face.  In short, Ann is radiantly beautiful.  She is my centerfold.
I know her figure is not propped up and will be just as lovely when the
clothes are removed as it is while she wears them.  Ann does not look her age.
She looks much younger.

Ann told me that she never fantasized nor had she ever masturbated.  Ann was
not aware of her own sensuality at all.  Her sexual feelings were supressed
until we were together.  She was a good lover.  She was willing to do anything
I wanted in bed.  She loved oral sex and when aroused, could make love with a
fury and recklessness that was wonderful.
Üj܌But Ann was repressed.  She could not express her desires, she could not voice
her feelings on any aspect of our sexual relationship.  Her repression gave
rise to my own.  I wanted to share fantasies with her and be able to make love
with total abandon.  I wanted to here her call out to me during orgasm. I
wanted her to be free to say "Fuck me!" if that was what she felt.  But
repression being what it is, we never discussed it.

I remembered we had shared a book one time on female fantasies.  She read them
with great interest.  When we were through she timidly confided in me that
there was one that captivated her imagination.  In this fantasy the woman was
tied to the bed while her lover brought her to one screaming orgasm after
another.  Amazingly enough this matched my wildest fantasy.  But I was too
inhibited to try it out with Ann.  I was a fool! I should have read the desire
at that point, but I didn't.

The problem was simple enough: I was afraid that she would reject me, or
worse, go along even though repulsed! Ann was afraid to be viewed as a whore
or a slut! Simple problem to define, one not so easy to overcome.  We even
talked about it, but skirted the issue and minimized the importance - testing
the waters, so to speak.  But we got nowhere.

Our lovemaking, while satifying physically, was almost boring.  I knew that if
anything was to change I had to make it happen.  It wasn't up to Ann to
initiate the changes, it was up to me.  It took a lot of thought and time for
me to come to the decision that was made.  I needed to trust her in the way I
would want her to trust me.  I needed to become the architect or our
relationship.  I was the one who saw Ann in the light I described, therefore I
was the one who possessed the blueprint for making her into my dream lover, my
submissive lover.  If I did not show the willingness to dominate, she would
not show the initiative to submit.  We had all of the proper elements working
for us; love, trust and devotion.  The only thing needed was a catalyst.  I
was that catalyst.

Ann no longer sees herself as she did before - now she sees herself through my
eyes.  It took a lot of work (delightful work) to make her that way.  Now she
is confident.  When we are together in public, she radiates her sensuality.
Her walk, her self-assurance and her attitude blend with her appearance to
present to all who see her a startling image of a wholesome, sensuous and
self- assured woman.  Ann is incredibly erotic.  She is aware of her female
charms and uses them to keep me in constant awareness of her willingness to
share them with me.

I have created an atmosphere in our relationship that lets her know that I
desire her almost continuously.  I can no longer be near her without fondling
her breasts, pulling her close to feel her body mold itself to mine or sliding
a hand underneath her skirt to feel the silky texture of her thigh or warmth
of her sex.

What follows is a history (in part) of my domination of Ann.  My taking
control and leading her into the pleasures of submission.  What has resulted
is almost too wonderful to describe in written words.  Ann has become the
living embodiment of all of my desires, fantasies and most of all my
conception of the perfect female.  I know that if there is anything lacking,
we will discover it and together will make it happen for us.  We have indeedÜj܌become one flesh.

No, I am not married to a beauty queen, a Playboy centerfold girl or even a
runner-up to these supposedly enviable places in the hearts of the
all-american male.  I am simply married to the sexiest, most erotic and
sensual lover on the face of the earth.  In my eyes she is more beautiful then
any other woman could be.  Her figure is perfect.  Her face is captivating.
Her personality is superb.  Her dedication to our happiness and pleasure is
remarkable.

Ann is the epitome of womanhood.  She is all that any female could ever desire
to be.  Ann is erotic.  Ann is sensual.  Ann is beautiful.  I know - I made
her that way!

Introduction

 I hate justification, but I think it is necessary to write my thoughts here
if only to remind myself later on, should they become dim or confused.  I know
that there are many people who will be shocked and appaled by these thoughts,
but I believe them to be accurate.  In any case, they are for both Ann and I,
if not for others.

I only can justify these concepts by laying claim to the fact that I am an
incurable romantic.  I still believe that the knight on the white charger was
meant to rescue and protect the fair maiden.  Old fashion?  Not for me and
certainly not for Ann.

Woman, that creature that men everywhere base their most secret desires and
fantasies on, has become a walking, living dichotomy.  She has been forced
into the position of having to assert her independence and become man's rival
in our modern society.  It is my opinion that we have all been dealt a
terrible hand in the game of love and sexual persuit.

We have fallen for a lie monstrously concocted out of hidden fears and unjust
suppositions.  This is not to say that I believe that women have not been
misused in certain situations, just that the reaction to these abuses have
spilled over into areas that have dulled roamnce and permeated love with
suspicions of selfish motives.

The nature of woman is to respond to man.  Woman as the aggressor is a lie of
modern society.  And at what cost has this lie been accepted?  The differences
between the sexes is becoming blurred and boundries, once clear, have become
hazy.  To many, the word "commitment" has become a word in the dictionary, no
more, no less.  Marriage is entered into with divorce as an option, almost a
self- fulfilling prophecy.

Instead of man looking at his partner as one who is to be "loved, honored and
cherished as long as we both shall live", he now sees her as a competitor in
many of life's endeavors. Some even find that the strain of becoming equal
soon devastates the ability to love, makes honoring impossible and deals a
death blow to his ability to cherish.  As with all natural laws, violation
inevitably brings tragic results. Man is meant to dominate woman as surely as
woman is meant to be submissive to man.  To do otherwise is to violate a basic
law of both natures. Üj܌
There is a paradox associated with this order of things.  One that was
probably best expressed in Christian thought governing relationships.  "The
one who is to become greatest among you, shall become the least." "He who
exalts himself shall be humbled.  He who humbles himself, shall be exalted."
These expressions of the paradox are accurate and hold the truth in the matter
of male/female relationships.  This paradox is contained in the very concept
of domination and submission.

The vision conjured up in so many minds is one of authoritarian rule and
despotic subjugation.  This is not the case at all. If it was the case it
would become just as much of a violation of natural law as female domination
of man.  All power that is true power is granted from the one in submission.
The very definition of submission is to allow onself to be ruled over.  The
word "allow" is the key word. In other words, to grant the dominant partner
the permission to dominate - a dichotomy to be sure.  There is nothing more
confusing then this concept; for in the overall scheme of things, the one in
submission is the one in control.

Chancing total alienation in the mind of my readers, I put forth that the
woman who willingly gives herself to become the "possession" of a man lucky
enough to receive this gift, becomes the object of man's most dedicated
attention.  Never has a gift more precious been offered to a man then the
fragility of a female's trust.  She says to him, "I am yours to do with as you
wish.  I trust you with my feelings, my body and most especially with my soul.
I offer it to you because I am willing to risk that you will love, honor and
cherish this gift."

The phrases "she belongs to me" and "she is mine" take on a new meaning in
light of this precious offering.  She suddenly finds herself to be the center
of his affections.  She becomes vulnerable to his attention and finds herself
becomming the woman he desires in his most intimate and private thoughts. He
does in fact begin to cherish this gift of love, his warmth causing her to
become pliable as she gives herself over to become his.  He now begins the
task of molding her into what he sees as his dream woman.  He carefully and
consciously creates in her the willingness and then guides her to be his
sensual and erotic lover.

She finds herself believing, for it is true, that she is the epitome of
womanhood, the very essence of all that is desireable and voluptuous.  She no
longer feels the need to compete for his ardor or attention, for she has
become the unswerving center of his adoration.  She believes in herself, her
sexiness, her attractiveness and her unbound ability to hold him captive in
her submissive nature.

He is caught, bound up in her web of tenderness, held captive to her
allurement.  Suddenly he finds that he can tell her anything without fear of
rejection.  He discovers that his fantasies now have a face - her face.
Communication becomes the center, the very heart, of the relationship.  The
ultimate of human communication, sexual communication, becomes a new and
wonderfully exciting experience for both of them.

What follows is an account of my adventures into this world of total
commitment with Ann, my wife of fifteen years.  It may be viewed as a book ofÜj܌suggestions, ice breakers and advanced
ideas.  What you are reading is meant
to arouse you and provoke you into becoming an inventive lover.  Remember that
these are our experiences and they may not appeal to you in all ways. Besides
it is not meant to be a script to follow, but simply a record of events that
turned a hum-drum love affair into a raging hot bed of passionate renewal.
These are fantasies lived out.  Sometimes modified to suit the sensibilities
of my lover, they provoked in me as well as Ann, transport unknown in our
entire married life.

Ann and I don't live like this every day.  These are games.  Well planned and
designed to bring newness to our sexual experiences.  Ann is submissive in our
marriage in all ways.  She enjoys having me be her strong mate.  She thrives
by allowing me to lead her.  She is a wonderful woman, my lover and above all
my best friend.

Her opinions, needs and wants are valued deeply and nothing that I do is
without mutual consent.  Ann is brilliant and her mind is amazing to me.  She
thinks with a clarity that I can depend on no matter what the situation. Her
insights and creativity bring me great joy. Ann is my woman. She is my most
valuable possession.  I cherish her for what she has given to me - the gift of
herself.

What I write on these pages therefore, I do with the fond hope that some of my
readers will discover that there is unbound pleasure and unending love to be
found in the oldest of human relationships - marriage.  I know that there are
some who will think this book horrible.  There are others who will consider it
pornographic.  There will be still others who will think I should be sent back
in time, relegated to some less enlightened age.  However there are some of
you who will take what you read here as confirmation of your deepest desires.
It is to you that this book is dedicated.

Take courage, my male friends.  Your "Ann" is awaiting your emergence as her
dominating lover, the one to whom she can give her all.

For my female readers, you are the key to the entire experiment.  Only you can
give the gift necessary to make this your story.  I fling this book into the
face of woman's liberation.  I use it as my gauntlet to challenge modern
society to once more pick up the lance of romantic love and go out to conquer
whatever dragons stand in its way!

Michael

February, 1985  - The Aniversary -

How do I say what is on my mind?  Fifteen years of marriage and we are still in
love, but something is tarnished.

Ann is such a gentle woman and amazingly beautiful in my eyes.  Today is our
anniversary and I have booked the hotel suite for the weekend.  We will go
there and have a marvelous weekend.  Yes marvelous, but not a phenomenal
weekend.

We will spend a lot of time making love and talking about the past and the
great life we have together.  We will discuss everything from the kids to theÜj܌inlaws.  Ann and I will then make love
some more.

We will spend most of our time doing silly things, fun things.  I will look at
her face and her nicely rounded body and my thoughts will drift off into a
fantasy world, lost in impressions of what we could have together.  Thoughts
and dreams that are filled with the frustrated desires of passion beyond what
our boring sexual routine delivers.

That is not to say that Ann is boring, quite the contrary, she is alive
sexually, very much alive.  But I somehow have the feeling that we have lived
with our toes in the water for fifteen years, testing the water, but not
jumping in.  Life has become a paradox.  Ann and I have become predictable,
familiar lovers.

I know exactly how she responds to me.  I cannot remember a time when she has
not responded to my insistance, no matter what the issue.  Ann is happiest
when I am strong and leading her.  The predictable familiarity is my fault,
not hers.  I have allowed it to happen.

Somehow I do not trust Ann.  Oh yes, I trust her in areas where I am not
vulnerable to rejection.  God! What a terribly selfish thought.  Deep inside
me I know that Ann has never done that to me, yet somehow the fear of looking
or sounding like a fool or worse, a sexual deviant, is overwhelming to me.

All of these thoughts are racing through my head.  Colliding, conflicting,
carroming off one another like a demolition derby, one thought destroying the
next! What I believe to be the truth and what I believe will make life with
Ann refreshing and wonderful, surely goes against all modern thought.

If we are to make it together for another fifteen years - it will be up to me.

If the truth were known, I would never keep this diary unless I believed it
would become a chronology of a love story so meaningful that I have preserved
it for our pleasure in times to come.  I wonder what Ann will say when she
reads this many years from now.  I feel like a little child peeking into a
forbidden book in the back room of a library.

But I am committed to this project now.  I will make Ann into my fantasy
lover.  The woman who is so overwhelmingly erotic and sexy that I cannot keep
my thoughts, much less my hands, off of her.  I will chance becoming a fool
for her and for me!



- The Decision -

Our aniversary weekend is as I predicted, with one exception.  I let it go
that way in order to collect my thoughts and let a plan formulate in my mind.
Our love making was - well it was routine.  We talked of the very things I
knew we would - sort of a mini version of "The Year in Review".  We laughed
and even cried a little over the memories.

I spend my time studying Ann.  While doing what was familiar and expected on
the outside, I am creating her anew on the inside. Üj܌
Her face is a study in care and love.  Ann's soft brown hair frames a face
that expresses her thoughts before she speaks them.  I look into her
grey-green eyes and marvele at the flashes of love that seem to light up my
world of thought.  Her eyes have always facinated me.  They are like velvet
traps that can ensnare me with a glance.  They tell me what she feels on the
inside.  I read her moods in them.  Ann's eyes are so large that they surround
her conversation with insight into her soul.

Her mouth is full and her lips are meant to be kissed and tasted.  It amazes
me when I think of how sexualy expressive her mouth is.  Her lips fairly
glistened with temptation as if they were are primarily to be kissed and only
secondarily used to form words.  They express a life of their own when she
speaks.  Her gentle words trickle out between them given meaning by the
expression her lips form as she speaks.  The flash of her pink tongue as she
runs it over her bottom lip is just another erotic invitation to taste them.
Her words are given an additional softness by their texture.

I was lost in these thoughts when somewhere in the distance I thought I heard
my name.  "Michael?" By the time she spoke it a third time, I shook my head
clear and returned to the hotel room.  I must have looked like a kid who had
been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Ann laughed her silly little laugh and asked me what took me away on such a
long journey into myself.  I took her hand and returned a smile and asked her
if she was sure she wanted to know.  She shook her head yes.

I do not believe I will ever forget the look on her face as I spilled out the
feelings inside of me.  I was about to take a step forward that would change
our lives for "better or for worse".

"Ann, I am not sure how to express all that I feel right now.  I will try, but
you have to forgive me if it sounds a bit jumbled.  I love you, love you so
much that it hurts me to know that we are predictable and boring.", I began.
Ann lowered her eyes and I knew that she was feeling the same thing.

"I am taking a chance too, hon.  Look, tell me you can't set your watch by our
sexual routine.  I don't mean that it isn't pleasurable, but it is
predictable.", I couldn't help but laugh.

To lighten up the conversation (well maybe just a tad out of embarassment too)
I continued as if I were a clinical sex therapist:

"Kiss her mouth...  there, that's it! Ummmmmm...  nice lips.  Now it is time
to nibble on her neck and fondle the right breast.  Keep checking those
nipples and see if she is getting hot! Now for a quick feel between her
legs...  nope, not wet yet!", by now both of us were laughing at ourselves.

"Seriously, Ann, can you see it, or is it just me?"

"No, it isn't just you.  I have had the same thoughts.", she agreed.

"Well", I continued, "I want to do something about it.  I want to refocus our
lives on us.  Not just the sex, but on our relationship as a whole.  ThisÜj܌sounds very selfish, but I believe we have
become great parents, good friends
to others, and wonderful homemakers.  My job, your work at home, the kids,
finances - all of this has somehow turned our heads from the main goal we had
when we married.  I know these things are important, but I also know that we
have allowed them to rob us of each other.  We married each other.  Our vows
were to each other, not all of these other things.  We need to refocus our
lives."

I looked up to see her following my every word and did not have to ask her if
she agreed.

"The problem is simple to define.  I have abdicated my position to
circumstances.  I have not been strong for you.  I intend to change that, Ann.
I want you to agree to one thing only, ok?", I asked.

"Sure, Michael.  What is it?", Ann looked into my eyes.

"I want you to become totally submissive to me.  I want you to follow my lead.
I know this sounds weird and by today's standards even abnormal, but I can
promise you that you will not regret it for one moment."

"I don't understand this at all.  What do I do?"

"Not a thing, hon.  Just follow my lead."

When I was through, Ann's eyes were sparkling with moisture and a radiance
that signaled that I had touched her innermost being wrote itself all over her
face.  It was a dream come true for her too.  I was not alone in my feelings,
Ann was right there in the midst of them.

Yes, I am sure now that there is much undiscovered love planted deeply inside
both of us.  I am going to bring it out in the open.  Ann and I will find a
newness and joy unrivaled even by the delight of discovery of each other in
our early marriage.

March, 1986

- The Domination Begins -

I took time today to send flowers to Ann.  A simple note was attached to them
reading:

     Dearest Ann:

     Please be ready to go out to dinner tonight at 6 pm.

     Love, Michael

I wonder if she has them yet?

Ann looked beautiful when I arrived home that night.  she greeted me at the
door and I dropped my briefcase in the hall and told the kids not to wait up
for us.
Üj܌I opened the passanger door for her before going to my side.  Funny how a
little thing like that politeness had slipped away from me.  I got into the
car and put the keys into the ignition.  Instead of starting the car, I looked
into her eyes and told her how beautiful she was.  I wanted her to feel sexy
and desirable.

"Ann, your breasts are beautiful." and slid a hand under her blouse to caress
one of them.  She was startled, but pressed against my hand.

"When we get home, I want to make love to you, Ann.  I want to feel your warm
body against mine.  I love you.", I said as I moved away from her to drive us
to dinner.  Ann just blushed and made a silly joke.  It was her way of telling
me that she was glad I liked them, but she didn't believe it.

The rest of the evening was spent making small talk and flashing knowing
smiles between us.  Several times during the evening, I caught her off guard
by expressing some overtly sexual thought out loud and out of context.  When
we got home, Ann was not prepared for what happened.

Turning out the headights of the car, I slid over to her and without saying a
word, reached under her skirt and began to slide her panties off.  She began
to protest, but I looked sternly at her and told her to be quiet.  She didn't
say another word as I continued to remove her panties.

I slid my hand between her legs to feel that she was more then a bit ready to
make love.  I covered her mouth with mine and drank deeply of her mounting
passion.  I waited until we were both unable to contain our desire and
stopped.

I opened the door to the car and led her to the house.  At the front door, I
pinned her against the house and lifted her dress to her thighs as I kissed
her again.  I let my hand find her moist warmth and slid it over the silkiness
of her sex as we kissed passionately once more.

"Michael, the neighbors!"

"Shhhhhh." Was my only reply as I continued to explore her wetness with my
hand.

I could hear aroused excitement in her breath.  She was kissing passionately
and moving her body against mine now.

"I want to be inside you, Ann.  I want to feel your warmth around me, to feel
the slipperiness of your pussy."

"Mmmmmmmmm, yes, Michael.  I want you inside me too"

I pushed her hand to the obvious bulge in my pants and bit her neck as she
began a soft rhythmical stroking motion.  I had to stop her before I came.  I
was out of control now.  Stepping back slightly, I undid her blouse and
unhooked her bra.  Lowering my mouth to her breast, I felt her press backwards
into the corner.  Her hands found the sides of my head as she moved her torso
forcing my lips and tongue to bathe the soft mound of flesh that I loved to
fondle. Üj܌
Ann no longer had mastery over her thoughts or body.  I dropped to my knees
and her hand went to her breast and continued to tease its swollen and
sensitive nipple.  She gathered her skirt in her other hand and thrust her
hips forward, spreading her legs and giving me access to her warmth.  As I
tasted her musky sweetness, I heard her utter involuntary, animal-like noises.
Ann was whining her excitement now as I teased her velvety moisture with the
tip of my tongue.

I looked up to her face and saw her chewing the back of her hand to try to
silence her growing ardor.  Her eyes were shut and her expression spoke of
uncontrolled pleasure.  Ann was coming now.  Unable any longer to prevent her
squeals of delight, or control the gyration of her hips, she was caught in the
rapture of the moment.  Her entire body stiffened suddenly as bolts of
pleasure shot through her lower body.  I could feel muscles reacting to the
detonation of thousands of nerve endings.

Ripples of satisfaction crashed through her body and communicated the
intensity to me.  I heard her gasping as I continued to force her into one
orgasm after another.  I found myself caught up in her passion unable to stop
until she relaxed and slid gently down to replace one set of lips with the
other.

We went into the house and somehow made it to the bedroom and made love on our
bed.  Not another word was spoken, our bodies said all that was necessary.
End of Part 1