INTRODUCTION

 

He was a man of wealth and power, handsome like a Greek god, the dream of most women. She was a perfect complement to him; an elegant woman with a classic Mediterranean beauty, jet black hair, olive skin, and enchanting brown eyes. He was a self made man, she was a trust fund baby. He put most of his energies into building his fortune; she used her days spending hers. They were two forces of nature, but at different ends of the spectrum.

The way her funds were dispersed guaranteed she would never be without money, but the way she liked to spend it was not supported by her income. She became a party girl, meeting rich single men and letting them buy her things. It worked well for her and gave the illusion she was far better off financially than she really was.

He was so wealthy by his thirty-fifth birthday that he could have easily retired, but he was too ambitious. Living for work, however, seemed so one sided. In response he started seeking a soul mate, someone to share his success. He frequented the many cocktail parties and fundraisers his circle of friends often hosted. When word got out that he was looking for a woman, as it always did, he found himself pursued by too many beauties.

She traveled in the same circles, and though she liked her carefree life style, once she found out that he was looking for a wife, another idea came to mind. She was twelve years his junior and she reckoned that made her a perfect fit for 'trophy wife' status. She fancied that she was as adept at seducing men as he was at making money. So she set her sights on meeting him, achieving that goal with relative ease.

They met at a fundraiser, where she engaged him in a conversation that evolved into a full-blown seduction. He found her exotic and accepted her invitation and a torrid affair followed. He quickly discovered this one had a brain and a quick wit, nothing like the airheads with fake breasts that pursued him relentlessly. The courtship was short, both of them too pragmatic to draw things out too long. They chose to marry for practical reasons, the sex was great, they made each other laugh, and they both wanted a partner to share their lives.

But a year into their marriage he was aggravated, she spent more money than time with him. He did not like how she had reverted so fast, but he would not consider divorce, knowing something inside her was worth salvaging. He was at a loss, a rare occurrence, as to how to break though her barriers.

Then a friend told him about a doctor who ran a special clinic, one that specialized in husbands and wives. But it was an unusual approach and was only designed for dominant men who wanted their women submissive. He met with the doctor and was soon convinced it was what he wanted. He knew she would disagree, but the doctor had an answer for that. She would come to his 'spa' for two months of pampering and relaxation. Once there, her therapy would begin.

Chapter 1: He Meets The Doctor

 

Reggie Armbruster was a powerful man, not just in stature (standing six foot four inches tall), but also in every aspect of life. He was wealthy, generous, demanding, driven, and absolutely refused to lose. By the age of twenty he had graduated college and started a lucrative career in real estate. In 2007 he saw the bubble coming and liquidated the majority of his properties, converting most of it to gold. Needless to say, the way things shook out he weathered the global recession far better than most people did.

Anna Tacorian was of Armenian descent, but was born and raised in America. Her father had been a jeweler and he made a small fortune designing custom tokens for the rich and famous. Anna was an only child and when her parents died in an accident while she was in college, it left her the only heir to his estate. But Anna's father knew she was an undisciplined girl, and he had structured his will to sell the business and provide his daughter with a trust fund. This guaranteed her a lifelong income that was comfortable, but she wanted a more lucrative lifestyle.

Anna finished college, getting a BS in marketing, something her father stipulated in his will. He was smart enough to make sure she finished her studies to earn her inheritance, not that she planned on using her degree. She chose to use what nature gave her, stunning beauty, to manipulate men to provide her with the luxuries she could not afford on her own. This Bohemian lifestyle suited her for several years and she used her natural assets to play it to the hilt.

She measured five-foot nine inches tall, with a 38D set of all natural breasts. Coupled with her twenty-four inch waist and thirty-six inch hips, she had a classic and alluring female form. Her legs were long and toned, and she always wore at least three-inch heels to emphasize that aspect of her physique. She never wore slacks, occasionally a pair of tight jeans, but skirts and dresses were her main choice. Her olive hued skin, almond shaped eyes, and nearly symmetrical face made her more than attractive, she was simply stunning when dressed and made up for the hunt. The men she set in her sights rarely had a chance and she made the most of it.

But like the premise it was based on, it became a hollow existence, and she felt something was missing. That was when she heard about Reggie and his search for a wife. She had been happy being on her own, but having a steady presence in her life and access to a fortune that dwarfed her trust fund was more appealing. She set her aim at him and hit the target, marrying him within a year of the first time they had met. But after a long honeymoon the call of her old wild self seemed to take control again. She loved the party life, but he did not, so she left him behind when she started to live that lifestyle again.

Anna did not realize how much this would affect him, thinking he just wanted a glittering jewel to show the world he had everything a man could want. But Reggie wanted a wife who was devoted to him, something she seemed incapable of becoming. Reggie had a driving will, one that never accepted defeat, so he decided to look for a way to reign in her untamed spirit.

It was an old friend that recommended he meet Dr. Preston, a psychiatrist who specialized in guiding rich married couples into better relationships. At first he doubted that counseling was the right course, but he agreed to meet the good doctor. He had a clinic in northern California, a short flight from his home in San Diego. At the doctor's suggestion Reggie would meet him unaccompanied, telling Anna he was going away on a business trip.

When he arrived at the clinic, a large antebellum style house that was surrounded by small cottages for guests, he was surprised by how warmly he was greeted. The doctor came out of the main house to meet him along with a beautiful blonde woman dressed in a tight fitting peach colored dress. She was almost as stunning as Anna but her demeanor seemed so different.

"Good day Mr. Armbruster. I am Dr. Emile Preston and this is my lovely wife Grace," the doctor said when Reggie came up the steps to the front door.

"Hello, it is a pleasure to meet you both," replied Reggie, taking the lady's hand and kissing it like an old fashioned gentleman. When he looked up at her afterward he swore she looked at him with a seductive glance, but dismissed the thought. He the grasped the doctor's hand firmly and shook it.

"Please come in so we can discuss a possible stay with us for you and your lovely wife," the smiling doctor said.

They led Reggie inside the impeccably furnished house and to an office that was directly to the left of the front doors. The doctor took a seat at his desk, gesturing for Reggie to sit in a comfortable padded chair facing it. Hanna simply stood behind and to the side of her husband with her arms behind her back, a position Reggie found odd.

Before he could say a thing about it, Dr. Emile said, "Would you like a drink? Grace would be happy to fix you one."

"A scotch on the rocks would be fine."

"Single malt or blended sir?" Grace asked, her voice lilting and almost melodic. He found it unusually soothing.

"Single malt please."

"As you wish sir," she said and then she gracefully walked over to a small bar against the wall.

While she mixed the drinks, Emile said, "So I understand you want to build a closer relationship to your wife?"

"Yes, but I am not a fan of counseling and I am sure Anna would not be either."

"I do not offer counseling, it is more of a training regimen. I will show both of you the benefits of a closer more intertwined relationship." He picked up a couple of manila folders, and said, "I have done some research on the two of you and am sure my methods will work for both of you."

At that point Reggie saw Grace standing beside him, holding out a drink. She was bent over just enough to place her cleavage near his face, the upper swells of her mounds pushing out from the tight confines of her low-cut dress. "Your drink sir," she said, forcing him to look up at her face and away from her displayed chest.

He cleared his throat, feeling a bit embarrassed, before saying, "Thank you Grace."

He took the glass she held out and then she walked back behind the desk to hand her husband the other drink she carried. She resumed the position from before, obviously not having a drink with them. Reggie wanted to question her about that and tell her to call him Reggie, but once Emile was handed his drink he started to talk again.

"You sir are a man used to having his way, to making people who do not agree with you at least accept that you are in control. The problem you face is how to deliver that message to your new bride. I believe I have the answer to that problem."

"You do seem to have an idea of what I am about, but Anna is a very strong willed woman."

"Forgive my impertinence, but that is irrelevant. She is a woman and they all have the same weakness, one that I have learned to exploit. In fact, I would suggest she be brought here under a different pretext, since I agree that marriage counseling would not appeal to her."

"Why would I want to exploit my wife or deceive her at all?" Reggie asked, not seeing how that would build a strong relationship. It seemed to him that it would be counter-productive.

"Exploiting her is not what I mean, maybe that was a bad term to use. The treatments I have developed simply help to redirect her energies. Your wife is even more predisposed to take to them, since she lives for excitement. I can help her focus those desires toward you, but a demonstration of the results of my techniques may speak more clearly to you."

"By all means a demonstration would be acceptable, you have peaked my interest, but I rarely buy something sight unseen."

"In that case I would ask you to sign a non-disclosure statement. My therapy is unique and I want to keep it that way. So I ask anyone who wishes to see the inner workings of this facility to guarantee me the utmost discretion."

"I accept those terms, I know the necessity of maintaining your edge in any endeavor."

The doctor handed him some papers with the places he needed to sign clearly marked. Like a good businessman Reggie read through them quickly, seeing they were standard documents that required him to keep what he learned here confidential. He signed them and handed them back to Emile.

He dropped them in an open drawer, closed it and said, "My wife Grace was the first to benefit from my training, isn't that right my dear."

"Yes sir," she said, her response almost mechanical, but still pleasing.

Looking at the demure looking woman Reggie said, "She does appear more genteel than my lady, but I hope you have other proof. Why should I believe her endorsement? She has a vested interest in your success."

"Good, my assessment of you was correct, I accept your skepticism. But we have just started, please take a look at this," he said, offering a laminated sheet of paper to him. It was a page from a well-know society page from a San Francisco magazine. A picture of Grace dressed in another tight dress and dancing rather provocatively at a nightclub was prominent on the page. The caption below it read: Bad girl Grace Adams let's loose at Club Risqué.

As he glanced at it Emile said, "Remind you of anyone you might know?"

"There is a definite resemblance. So Grace is now a prim and proper lady?" Reggie asked, wondering what happened to the wild child in the picture.

"Prim and proper? That would be a mistake to say the least, it is just that her verve for life is directed in another way," Emile answered.

Reggie looked up from the picture and said, "Tell me what you mean."

"Certainly, Grace please go and step in front of Mr. Armbruster," Emile said, and she instantly walked to where her husband directed, her movement fluid and subtly flirtatious. When she was standing right in front of him, Emile said, "Do you find her attractive?"

"Of course, she is a beautiful woman."

"You may ask him now Grace."

"Sir, would you be offended if I removed my dress?" Grace asked.

That was something that caught Reggie by surprise, but it intrigued him. He kept himself composed and said, "Not at all." For the first time he could remember, he did not know what else to say.

Grace simply shook the spaghetti straps off her shoulders and turned around so he could watch her lower the zipper from her shoulder blades down to the swell of her shapely bottom. Once the zipper reached the bottom she turned again and sexily tugged down on the short hem of the dress. She wriggled a bit and her flawless breasts popped free, delightful orbs that were capped with erect nipples. The metal studs with balled ends that pierced them just above her areolas only enhanced their appeal. His attention was soon drawn to her washboard abs and finally to the exposed V of her thighs, when the dress fell to her ankles in a puddle of crumpled cloth.

The fact she wore no undergarments was not lost on Reggie, finding the idea of Anna going about with so little to cover her body seeming appealing in a strange way. He looked down her magnificent legs to see her kick the dress away, leaving her wearing nothing but her spike heeled sandals. Her pussy was shaven, with just a small triangle of neatly trimmed pubic hair above her sex. It was like it was designed to point at her sex.

"Are you starting to see my point?" Emile asked, still seated behind his naked wife. "Would Anna so easily obey you if you wanted her to strip in front of a stranger?"

"Of course not, but I am not looking for my wife to become an uninhibited exhibitionist."

"But you are looking for a more obedient wife, are you not?"