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From: MarArch@ix.netcom.com
Subject: REPOST: Time Of Possession, 1/? - Wife, D/s
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This is something a bit out of the ordinary for me. Please email me
and let me know if you think I should continue with it. If so, I will
post it on my web site at:
http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/jon_thompson_3/adult01.htm

Time of Possession, part one
(part one)
by MarArch

Ralph awoke slowly, his eyes pulling open, blinking and gradually
focusing. The sun was up, but he immediately recalled that it was
Saturday and he didn't have to get up, if he didn't want to. Then
again, he knew that since he was now awake, if he allowed himself to
drift back to sleep he would be out for hours more as he usually did
on most Saturdays. Instead he sighed, tossed back the covers and rose.
He knew, of course, the instant his eyes had opened that his wife,
Debra, was already up. He could sense the feeling of a vacancy behind
him on the other side of the bed but he also knew that she was always
up before him on Saturdays, sometimes for hours before he stumbled out
of bed.

He trudged into the bathroom, relieved himself, and then headed for
the stairs, some inner need drawing him to the kitchen and the coffee
pot that Debra always prepared on Saturdays. He poured his mug full of
the hot black liquid and took that first sip, savoring the taste. Then
he moved to the den, stopping in the doorway, somewhat startled to
notice that she was not laying on the couch, her ever present book
before her lovely face. Odd, he thought. Getting a cup of coffee and
snuggling in on the couch to read on a lazy Saturday morning was a
ritual for her and had been throughout the four years of their
marriage. In fact as he stood there, he couldn't recall a single other
time she had foregone this activity, unless there was some sort of
emergency or she had other plans he knew of in advance.

He was about to call out for her, but he could feel that his voice was
still fuzzy with sleep, so instead he turned and trudged back through
the house, stopping to look into the livingroom before mounting the
stairs, his steaming coffee cup in his hand. About halfway up the
stairs he thought he heard something and stopped. It was Debra, the
sound coming from the room at the other end of the upstairs hallway
where the computer was. But what was most startling was the nature of
the sound. It was a quiet, rythmic moaning. The same sound she had
made just the night before when they were making love, as his cock was
stroking deep into her body.

Puzzled, he slowly crept up the rest of the stairs, tiptoeing down the
hall towards the almost closed door. He stopped and slowly leaned in,
catching sight of a sliver of the room beyond the inch wide crack
between the door and the jamb.

There was his lovely, petite wife, seated in the straight backed
wooden chair in front of the desk on which sat the computer, her legs
spread very wide and her hands, though hidden from his view by her
body, obviously stroking and playing over her body. The computer
screen was glowing and she seemed to have her full attention fixed
firmly on it, even as she stroked and teased her own body, small
whimpers and groans escaping her.

Ralph smiled to himself, figuring that she had signed on-line and had
discovered some piece of erotica or other which was now doing it's
job, providing her with a pleasant Saturday morning fantasy, and was
about to reach out and slowly push the door open, mischeviously
wondering how long it would take her to notice that he was standing,
watching her masterbate. But then his arm froze just before it touched
the door and his brow furrowed as he spotted the fact that around her
ankles and tied to the legs of the chair were a pair of long, soft,
silk scarves.

What the hell, he thought, confused and startled that his sweet, shy,
demure wife would find excitement in something so.... so kinky. Of
course she was sexy and giving in bed with him, but their love making
had always been soft and gentle, and even as she would sigh in orgasm
it was as if each was her first time, delicate and tender.

He leaned closer to the crack fixing his gaze on her, straining to
absorb what he could of what she was doing.

Even though her back was to him, blocking his view of the screen, he
could tell she was now stroking her sex, hard and fast, her breath
coming in short gasps, her hand working herself vigorously as her
other leapt back and forth from nipple to nipple. Suddenly she sucked
in a deep breath and groaned, an almost animal growl and Ralph knew
she was cuming. Her whole body flinched and shuddered as the rippling
waves of orgasm rolled through her and for a long moment she sat very
still, letting the sensations wash over her.

Ralph was confused, wondering whether he should push the door open and
happen to discover her at that moment or tiptoe away and forget the
whole thing, for now, at least. But then he saw her lean suddenly
forward and begin to type, a short burst of keystrokes, after which
she paused, her gaze fixed on the screen. She typed again, paused
again, and it suddenly struck Ralph that she was engaged in "chat"
with someone. And it hit him. His lovely, adoring wife had just had
cyber-sex with someone.

He didn't know how to feel about the fact that someone else, some
stranger, using nothing but words on a screen, had just made his wife
climax, especially when it sank back into his thoughts that her ankles
were bound to the chair. What the hell was going on here, he wondered.
He felt his stomach tighten and flutter, a strange, violent mix of
jealousy and arousal as the thought thundered through his mind. Then
he saw her type one last message and reach for the mouse. A moment
later he heard the quiet "good bye" wav play as the connection was
broken and saw her reach down to begin untying the scarves, freeing
herself. He eased back as slowly as he could and tiptoed away from the
door, his mind a jumble of thoughts.

When she came down and stepped into the den a little while later, she
seemed startled to find him sitting on the couch, watching tv.

"Oh, hi, honey" she said, smiling. "I didn't know you were up yet."

Ralph grunted and smiled back at her, seaching her face for signs of
the glow he knew she must still be feeling.

"Can I get you some breakfast" she asked.

"No, thanks, sweetheart, I'm fine with just coffee" he replied.

She turned back into the kitchen, leaving him to stare at the now
vacant doorway, a mix of thoughts flowing through his head. Should he
mention what he'd seen? Should he forget it? Should he try to be
subtle, hint at it and hope she'd confess what she'd done? He simply
didn't know how to handle it. And he also was concerned. How long had
she been engaging in this private little activity? Who was on the
other end of the connection? Was it someone she had engaged in this
with repeatedly or simply someone she'd encountered that morning in
one of the chat rooms and decided to have a little "assisted solo
fling"?

For the rest of the morning he pondered these thoughts in his own
mind, even as she curled on the couch next to him, her book before her
face, her legs thrown casually over her lap. Part of him wanted to
simply turn to her and ask if she'd had a good time and maybe could he
watch the next time. But he simply couldn't figure out how to even
begin to broach such a subject. Their shared sex life, while
fulfilling for them both, was too private, too delicate. It was
something sweet and tender and he knew that if he ever were to try and
discuss it, especially out of context, he would probably choke on the
words and turn beet red. Still, his mind was a swirl of confused
questions and he had to find out what he could. He already felt
embarassed for having caught her that morning, even though he reasoned
that, as her husband, he had a right to share in any such pleasure.
But how could he talk to her about it? Where would he even begin? He
sighed and leaned back, letting his mind play over the questions.

Late that afternoon, as she began to prepare dinner, he went up to the
computer room, sat down before the glowing machine and started up the
on-line program. In a way he felt ashamed of what he was about to do,
but he simply had to know what was going on. He knew she was not all
that computer literate, while he had quite a lot of experience with
the devices, so he planned to use that to his advantage. He quickly
switched the sign on screen over to the screen name she used
exclusively and accessed the preferences menu, setting up the software
to automatically save a copy of any e-mail she might send or recieve
for access off-line. He then closed the on-line software and launched
the security program he'd recently installed. While it was originally
intended to allow for recording and monitoring of activity the system
might engage in, it also had the ability to log any keystrokes fed
into the system. It was this capacity he accessed, starting the log
and then minimizing the program. As it was designed to do, it
disappeared completely and only a hot key combination would call it
back up, a fact she was totally unaware of. That done he went back
down to dinner.

Over the next few days, through Saturday, Sunday and into Monday, he
made numerous trips to the computer room, quickly calling back the
monitor program or jumping into the on-line software to see if any
letters had been sent or received under her private screen name or any
of her keystrokes had been recorded. But it appeared that she had not
touched the machine at all since Saturday morning and slowly his
concerns began to fade. By the time he reset the monitor program on
Monday night he had pretty much decided that he had witnessed a unique
event... just something wicked she had tried and that was that. He
spent all of Tuesday believing that, until just before bedtime that
night.

She had taken the afternoon off on Tuesday to get a few things done
around the house, and went to bed early, leaving him to finish
watching the late news, turn out the lights and trudge upstairs to
join her. Poking his head into the bedroom he saw that she was already
asleep, and he decided to make one last check on the computer before
turning in himself. If he didn't find anything, he had already decided
to simply shut down the monitor program and forget the whole thing.

He sat down in the chair, launched the on-line program and checked her
screen name. No mail, coming or going. Shutting it down he tapped the
hot keys to call up the monitor program and clicked on the log file,
expecting to find it once again empty. It wasn't.

On the screen he read:

LOVESLUT

That must be her password, he thought. 

GOOD AFTERNOON SIR 	I HOPE YOUR TRIP WENT WELL I TOOK THIS
AFTERNOON OFF I AM ALONE

So, she was talking to a man, he reasoned.

YES SIR A VERY GOOD GIRL

He must have asked her something, he decided.

I DONT KNOW IF I CAN SIR I WILL TRY

Try what, he wondered.

YES SIR I WANT TO VERY MUCH I AM JUST AFRAID MY HUSBAND WILL FIND OUT

Ralph felt his stomach tighten and begin to flutter as he read on,
upset that he was only able to see her side of the conversation.

THAT WOULD BE BETTER FOR ME EASIER TO ARRANGE WHAT TIME AND WHERE I
LOOK FORWARD TO IT SIR

Ralphs hands were trembling, his eyes glued to the screen.

I AM NERVOUS ABOUT THIS SIR IVE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE YES SIR I WILL
SEE YOU THEN I LOOK FORWARD TO MEETING YOU TOO

So, she was going to actually meet this person, Ralph suddenly
realized. But why?

YES SIR MY ANKLES ARE TIED TO THE CHAIR NOW

Ralph could feel his cock begin to stir, a tingling rushing through
him.

YES SIR YES YES YES YES CUMMING SIR THANK YOU SIR THAT WAS WONDERFUL

Ralphs hand slipped down to his lap and began to stroke his now
throbbing cock through the thick fabric of his trousers, his eyes
glued to the screen.

I ONLY HOPE I WILL PLEASE YOU AS MUCH

A low moan escaped his lips as he could feel his excitement growing at
the words on the screen.

ANYTHING YOU WISH SIR YES SIR I WILL SEE YOU THURDSAY NIGHT

That was all. Ralph quickly closed the file and set up the software to
continue monitoring, then stripped off his pants and began stroking
his cock, closing his eyes and letting his mind wander over the
thousand images that flooded his mind.

Laying down next to her sleeping form that night, and all through the
next two days Ralph wondered whether or not to mention that he knew
about her upcoming meeting with this mysterious man. How would he
explain how he had discovered it? What would she say? Would she be
upset that he had spied on her? Instead he kept silent and waited to
see what would occur on Thursday.

The next few days were agony for Ralph. Every night before going to
bed he checked the computer only to discover that no further logs had
been recorded. Finally on Thursday he found himself unable to
concentrate on his work at the office without thoughts of Debra
meeting another man flooding into his thoughts. That morning as they
dressed she had casually mentioned that she was going to meet one of
her girlfriends after work for a drink and perhaps dinner. He had
barely managed to choke out "okay". Finally, unable to take it any
longer, he decided to leave early, giving his boss a rather lame
excuse about stomach trouble. He drove home in a state of tension and
pulled into the driveway. Her car was gone and when he entered the
house he noticed there were no messages on the answering machine. He
bolted upstairs to the computer room, launched the on-line software
and was about to call up her screen name and sign on to see if she had
recieved any mail, but quickly thought better of it. What if someone
she knew on-line happened to notice her and tried to chat with "her"?
Of worse, mentioned having seen her at this time? Instead he opened
the filing cabinet. There was an email that had apparantly been sent
by her just that day. With trembling fingers he double-clicked on it
to open it, struggling to stay calm.

"Sir" it read "I hope you get this letter in the next few hours. It is
now almost 5 pm and I am about to leave to meet you, having taken half
the day off because of pure nervousness. I tried to take a nap but
couldn't close my eyes. I settled instead for a soothing, warm bath
which helped to calm me. I have just now finished dressing and, as you
requested, I am wearing the undergarments you directed me to as well
as not wearing the one you said I could not wear.

"Please understand, Sir, that I have never done anything like this
before in my entire life. I love my husband very much and would not
hurt him for all the world. But I can no longer deny the urges that
have taken control of my thoughts and even my dreams since we began
talking. The things you have told me have driven me half crazy.

"At this moment I don't know whether I should say I'm sorry and forget
about this evening or take a deep breath and just see what happens.
Part of me is very nervous that we will not like each other, while
another part is frightened that we will like each other too much. I do
want to thank you for telling me that I will be home by 11 regardless
of how we find each other. That has gone a long way to calming much of
my fear. And yes, I do trust you, Sir.

"By the way, will you have me calling you 'Sir' all night? Not that I
would mind that at all. In fact, it is part of what I very much want.

Well, I will see you very soon, Sir. I hope you like me.

"Debra"

Ralph sat back, his entire body trembling as he stared at the screen.
Quickly he glanced at his watch. Six o'clock. By now she was with him,
whoever he was, wherever they were. But where exactly were they? And
what were they doing? Ralph didn't even notice when his hand slipped
into his lap and began to stroke his hardening cock through the fabric
of his trousers.

At precisely eleven, as Ralph sat on the sofa in the den in front of
the tv, he heard the front door open and close as Debra returned home.
But instead of coming into the den she went directly upstairs. Ralphs
was torn between simply sitting where he was and bolting up to
confront her. Instead he drew in a deep breath, rose and moved as
calmly and evenly as he could to the stairs.

When he reached the bedroom he noticed the bathroom door was shut and
the water was running.

"Debra?" he called through the door.

"Be out in a second!" came the reply. He scanned the room, looking for
evidence of what she had worn that evening but saw nothing out of the
ordinary. A few moments later the bathroom door opened and she stepped
out, smiling.

She stepped up to him and gave him a brief hug and peck on the cheek,
but he could see that she was flushed. Before she could step away he
wrapped his arms around her and drew her close, his lips dipping to
meet hers in a long, tender kiss. She sighed in his arms but then she
pulled back, as if flustered and smiled at him.

"How was your evening" he said, hoping he sounded casual.

"Good" she said, the word sharp, almost started by the question. "But
I'm really tired and I need to get to bed."

"Yeah, I should join you. I'm pretty beat myself."

She seemed to hesitate, uncertainly, then said "Why don't you go shut
off the lights downstairs then and set up the coffee?"

"All right" he replied, smiling warmly at her and turning to the door.

Downstairs he quickly set up the coffee maker for the morning and
turned off all the lights, arriving back at the bedroom door in only a
few minutes, to discover that she was already in bed, curled up, eyes
closed. He could tell she was wearing her comfy, oversized t-shirt, a
sure signal that she wasn't in the mood for anything except sleep. He
sighed and began to undress, finally slipping into the bed beside her
and curling up next to her.

"I love you" he whispered, his lips close to her ear.

"I love you too" she replied and he knew it was true.

It was difficult but finally he drifted off to sleep.

The following morning when he got up she rolled over and said that she
wasn't feeling very well and was going to call in sick. For a brief
moment he almost asked her why, but instead simply nodded, kissed her
tenderly on the forehead and got ready for work.

His mind was racing a mile a minute from the moment the front door
closed behind him and by 10 o'clock he picked up the phone to call
home, just to hear her voice. Instead he got the answering machine. He
tried again at 11 and again the machine answered. By noon he could no
longer stand it, told his boss that he needed to go home and left the
office.

Arriving home he quickly moved through the house, looking for anything
out of place, some telltale sign but could notice nothing. He headed
for the computer room.

There was no letter, but there was a long recording of her keystrokes
which he rigidly focused on, his hands trembling every time he reached
out to scroll down.

GOOD MORNING SIR it began.

I WAS HOPING I WOULD SEE YOU THIS MORNING I HAD A WONDERFUL TIME LAST
NIGHT

IM GLAD SIR I HOPED YOU WOULD

YES VERY PLEASED MAYBE TOO PLEASED LOL

NO SIR NOT AT ALL IN FACT I WANTED YOU TO BUT YOU MUST HAVE KNOWN THAT

SIR I WAS WET FROM THE MOMENT WE MET COULDNT YOU TELL

I LIKE YOU TOO SIR VERY MUCH

I DONT KNOW WHAT DO YOU THINK WE SHOULD DO NOW

REALLY HONESTLY

YES I WOULD LIKE THAT

YOU DONT THINK THAT WOULD BE TOO SOON 

NO I DONT EITHER IN FACT I THINK I HAVE TO NOW OR ILL GO COMPLETELY
CRAZY

ALL RIGHT WHEN

ARE YOU SERIOUS SIR

I WOULD HAVE TO BE HOME BY AT LEAST 5 MY HUSBAND WILL BE HOME AROUND 6

ARE YOU SURE SIR

PROMISE ME

YES SIR I TRUST YOU MAYBE TOO MUCH

ALL RIGHT SIR WHATS THE ADDRESS

YES SIR WHAT TIME

OH I COULDNT I WOULD FEEL SILLY

ALL RIGHT MASTER

NO I GUESS NOT SILLY AT ALL

YES MASTER SEE YOU IN A BIT

Ralph sat for a long while, staring at the screen, his entire body
trembling, as if in conflict with the throbbing hardness of his cock.
Finally he rose and went into the bedroom, standing in the doorway for
a long time, wondering what he should do, how he should react.  The
rest of the afternoon he paced the house, restless and unable to sit
for more than a few moments at a time. His mind flooded with images of
his beloved wife doing unspeakable things with another man and he had
to stroke himself to climax three times throughout the afternoon, his
thoughts a jumble of jealousy and excitment at the idea.

Finally, just before five he went out and moved the car down the
block, parking it at the curb out of sight and walked back to the
house.

At just before five the door opened and Debra come into the house. She
didn't know he was in the den and she headed straight for the stairs.
He forced himself to remain still for several minutes before rising
and moving as quietly as possible toward the stairs himself, tiptoeing
up them. As he reached the top he could hear her in the bedroom,
moaning quietly. As silently as he could he eased toward the door and
leaned to look.

Debra stood in the middle of the room, completely naked, legs apart,
her back to the full length mirror, her head turned to see her own
reflection. Ralphs jaw fell open at the sight of the bright red flesh
of her buttocks and the thin welt-like stripes across her back. But
what stunned him completely was the fact that Debra was stroking her
clit hard and fast as she gazed at the signs of punishment on her
body. Her moaning grew deeper and she closed her eyes, tossing her
head back, crying out in a climax, her knees quivering.

Ralph eased a little further into the doorway, gaping at her dumbly.
When she opened her eyes with a deep sigh and began to turn, she saw
him and flinched in surprise, her body jerking around, her hands
coming up almost instinctively to cover herself.

"Ralph! What are you doing home!?"

She was now turned to face him and Ralph instantly saw that the fine,
downy hair that had shrouded and protected her sex was now gone,
leaving it smooth and bare.

"Oh God" she moaned, one hand falling on her face in startled
realization that she had been caught.



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