“You can forget about safe, sane, and yes, consensual too,” I said.
      How did I get here? It is not a long story. Soon after our marriage, Richard and I
began to experiment with bondage and S&M. I always got a thrill from being bound,
defenseless, but S&M, or rather the masochism part was another story. By the fourth
stroke of the cane on my butt I would be screaming my safe word “Bananas”. The fucking I
would get afterwards was always hot, but all the time I would be cursing at myself in
frustration for having stopped the punishment.
      Richard loved the D&S sessions, but even he started to become tired of my
stopping a session just when he was getting started. He did not say anything, of course,
but his sessions became less imaginative, more routine and he stopped buying and trying
new instruments. Why would he, if I would stop every session with my safe word, “Bananas”,
almost as soon as it started.
      It wasn’t the same in my fantasies of course. No; when I dreamed, even waking
dreams, I was always bound, chained, at the mercy of a ruthless master, or pirate, or what
have you.  In jeopardy for my own life, I had to endure nameless tortures, unspeakable
violations, and always, always would wake up, sheets soaked in sweat, and the musk of my
own arousal redolent in my bedroom.
      I tried to fantasize, to imagine me and Richard in the same setting, but it wasn’t
just the same. “Bananas” the safe word always hung in the balance. The difference glared:
I could stop it, anytime I wanted. And I always wanted.
      This brings us to the night in question. After dinner, we watched TV. Richard had a
scotch; I knew what I wanted to say, but lacked the courage; I made a pitcher of cosmos,
and had four of them, my limit is two. I was so anxious that, even with the four drinks
under my belt, I wasn’t sure I would go through with it. When he went to bed, I stumbled
to the bathroom and then joined him. We did not make love that night; well, not at first.
      “Richard,” I said before he fell asleep, “when you tie me up and, you know, spank
or whip me…”
      “Huh?”
      “You can forget about safe, sane, and yes, also consensual.”
      That got his attention. In the dim light, I saw his eyes opening wide; I also saw a
different movement under the sheet that covered a certain part of his anatomy.
      “But you cannot take, not even five strokes of the flogger!”
      Before I lost my nerve, I told him what I needed so badly to say.
      “That’s why I have to get rid of my safe word. It doesn’t work for me if I can stop
you at any time,” he looked puzzled. “I don’t like pain, that is not my thing, that’s why
I always stop you,” He nodded, confused.
      I took a deep breath, trying to quiet the butterflies in my stomach.
      “I need to lose control, to hand it over to you, but it doesn’t work if I know that
you will respect my limits, that you will not hurt me, that you will restrict yourself to
what you know I want,” he nodded. “That’s what I mean when I say that I don’t want it
safe, sane, or even consensual.”
      His cock, under the sheets had risen to the occasion; I slid my hand over his firm
belly, down to where his, now erect, member joined the black curls that adorned him; I
felt its pulsing between my fingers. He loved this as much as I feared it.
      “You can do anything you want to me; I will do anything you want me to; if I don’t,
make me.”
      Before he could say anything I silenced him with my finger. I slid the sheets off
his body and crawled towards his massively erect cock.
      “I know you want it,” I said before I wrapped my lips around the bulbous head.
      “We could try that for a month or so,” he said, “see how you like it.”
      I took my mouth off his member for a moment, “No, that would still give me control
and I would chicken out after the month was over. No. It must be forever; until you don’t
want me anymore.” 
      I returned his cock to my mouth; it had grown even larger, it seemed. I took him as
deep as I could; the head hit the back of my throat, making me gag for a moment. I could
not take him deeper, not in this position. Not that I ever took him any deeper; although I
felt that this would change soon, perhaps not tonight, but soon.
      His hands moved to my head, playing gently with my long, light brown hair, as I
bobbed up and down on his shaft.
      “As you wish,” he said in a hoarse voice.
      I licked up and down his shaft, cupping his balls in my hand, slobbering my love
and devotion all over him. I felt the moisture welling in my pussy. I was still wearing my
nightgown; I wondered if I should stop what I was doing to remove it but the vibrations
coming from his cock, and the humping from his hips, suggested otherwise. His eruption in
my mouth came as a surprise; I had never before let him come in my mouth. Gobs and gobs of
sperm filled my mouth. I kept it all, fighting the urge to retch. When he was done, I
released his cock and, not spilling a drop, knelt back on my heels, my mouth open, and
swallowed the whole thing.
      Another first.