Early retirement hadn't turned out to be the idyll either of them expected. Buddy had sold his business back in February and Sheila had had enough.

For six months she had put up with his lazy-assed, fucked-up, king-of-the-hill attitude. It wasn’t just that she wasn’t used his always being underfoot. The fact is, there had never been more than a few waking hours a week when he wasn’t at work; all the years they had kids at home, it was rare if he made it home for dinner more than a couple times a week.

No, it wasn’t just that. She felt like she was shackled to a stranger. This was no longer the dynamic young man who had charmed her with his ability to take on any challenge with so much positive energy.

Now, the only kind of energy he still exhibited was his sex drive. And that had become a constant strain to Sheila. He was always pawing at her, at times and in ways she found increasingly exasperating.

And when they did have sex - they fucked pretty much every day; he would wear her down and she would eventually let him fuck her, if only to get it over with - it was sex bereft of any pleasure for her at all.

Buddy wasn’t happy either. Cashing in - the goal of a lifetime - had made him well off financially, but not so much psychologically. Not being of an introspective or philosophical bent, it took him a long time to realize how much of his identity was wrapped up in the business he had built from scratch and had invested himself in daily for over twenty years.

And now that he just wanted to enjoy the benefits of his success, he was failing for the first time in his life. He couldn’t come to grips with the absence of daily challenges and daily wins.

Sheila finally told her mother what was going on. Betty had had a lot more ups and downs in her life than her daughter had, so Sheila was sure she could offer some suggestions. She had always confided in her mother to a certain degree, although not the very intimate details of her life with Buddy. And that life had always been pretty smooth, so this was the first time she had sounded like she was complaining.

Betty didn’t say, but her first thought was, why not just castrate the bastard. She chuckled to herself.

What she did say was, “I have a friend who works for a therapist who does a lot of marriage counseling. From what I hear, he’s a little eccentric, but he does get results. And fast too.” She rolled her eyes as she said, “You know how some therapy never comes to an end ... Well, he’s not like that. He has a reputation for immediate results.”

With Sheila’s consent, Betty phoned Marci Yin. To call Marci a friend was a bit of an exaggeration, although Betty’s feelings for Marci were deep and complex. Working out of Dr. Samenschlag’s office, where she was employed as his invaluable assistant, Marci operated a lesbian dominatrix practice with the doctor’s full knowledge and support.

Always happy to take a call from a regular customer, Marci listened to Betty’s description of the Buddy problem and suggested that she meet with the couple herself. There were a lot of options, she told Betty, some of which would not require the doctor’s involvement.

So, two days later, on that sweltering afternoon in August, Marci met Betty at the big house Buddy and Sheila had bought some miles from the city. At he end of a long, curved driveway, the grounds were beautifully landscaped and secluded by large stands of maples and poplars.

Betty was waiting at the bottom of the steps to the wide veranda and she blushed when Marci gave her a hand to kiss and trembled a little as her lips touched the back of the small, strong hand and Marci’s scent pierced her brain.

“Thank you, Miss Marci,” Betty simpered, “I appreciate you taking the time to see us.”

Marci frowned at the taller woman. “Why are you wearing slacks? You know the rules.”

Betty was taken aback, humiliated by the realization that she had blown an opportunity to demonstrate her subservience.

“I ... I thought...” she stammered, feeling her pussy flutter and begin to leak. Marci grabbed a handful of Betty’s blouse- and bra-covered breast and twisted the nipple sharply.

Betty gasped and moaned, “I’m sorry Miss! It won’t happen again!”

Marci strode up the steps with Betty behind her, ogling her mistress’s shapely pencil-skirted ass. Betty scurried ahead to open the front door for her. “Sheila, we’re here!” she called.

Buddy entered the foyer just as Betty was introducing Sheila to Marci. He was looking presentable for a change, having actually showered and shaved that morning and changed into a clean polo shirt and a decent pair of shorts to meet the guests.

Wow, he thought, that’s a fine piece of Asian ass! He also checked out his mother-in-law, who was looking particularly fuckable for a septuagenarian, but then he had always had a thing for her. Turning his attention back to the hot Asian chick - Marci was thirty-eight but could still pass as a teenager - Buddy interrupted Sheila as she was welcoming her.

Assuming the role of host and master of the house, he put his hand out to Marci, “Hi, I’m Buddy.”

Marci completely ignored him until she had replied to Sheila, touching her gently on the shoulder, and giving her a warm, confident and confiding smile. Then her visage transformed as she glanced contemptuously at Buddy and, ignoring his proffered hand, turned back to Sheila and asked, “Is there a place where we can sit and talk?”

“Of course,” Sheila replied, and led them, Buddy in tow, into the living room that, although somewhat formally decorated, afforded several areas designed for intimate conversation.

Selecting the nearest group, a two-seated divan with a chair and a small coffee table, Sheila gestured to the chair for Marci and sat with her mom on the divan. Buddy hovered in the doorway, uncertain whether he should take a seat farther away or just stand nearby.

He was taken aback by the lack of civility Marci had displayed, but curiously aroused by her powerful demeanor. He wasn’t going to let a minor rebuff keep him from participating in what Sheila had told him was a family consultation.

“So, Betty tells me you’re not happy with your husband,” Marci said, not wanting to beat around the bush. “What, specifically, do you want corrected?”

Sheila almost gasped, surprised at Marci’s directness, but at the same time feeling suddenly validated by the younger woman’s clearly partisan support.

“Hey, wait a minute!” Buddy interrupted, taking a step toward the women. “I thought...” But Marci interrupted him immediately.

“SHUT UP!” She didn’t shout, but her voice carried the force and intensity of a military command.

Buddy was stunned. His first reaction was to snap his mouth shut and freeze in his tracks before incipient rage began to well up. His face started turning red and his eyes bulged, while Marci tuned back to Sheila and said, “I’m sorry. You were about to say something.”

Buddy was not having it. “What the fuck...” he started, but before he could form his next word, Marci had sprung to her feet.

Moving like a bolt of lightning, she spun, advanced, and slapped Buddy violently across the face.

“I said, SHUT UP!” she growled,” What part of that did you not understand?”

Buddy rocked on his heels and fought to regain his balance, but not his composure. Raised to treat women respectfully, he had never struck or even verbally abused a woman in his life. But he felt sure he was about to.

He tried to remain calm and in control, but his voice didn’t sound like it as he sputtered, “Hey! Who do you...” before being interrupted once again, this time by a vicious kick in the balls. Small Marci may be, but she is extremely fit and well trained in martial arts.

Buddy went down like a sack of potatoes while Betty grinned smugly and Sheila looked on in shock.

“You better learn and learn fast. Don’t fuck with me,” Marci spat at him, as he lay crumpled at her feet, groaning. Then she calmly returned to her seat and said, “I am always surprised at what women put up with. So unnecessary.”

Sheila looked at her in awe and at her husband with a surprising degree of satisfaction, never having thought she would enjoy seeing him humiliated.

Buddy was in pain, but as the stars dispersed and his vision returned to normal, he too had an unexpected reaction. He felt distinctly aroused; while his balls were throbbing in pain, his cock was throbbing in pleasure.

The initial shock of the vicious kick had obliterated all his raging hostility. In its void his mind was forced to re-calibrate, unconsciously accepting Marci’s dominance over him and seeking relief by translating the pain into pleasure, as much as possible, and the humiliation into desire. As Marci spoke, he heard her voice as that of a goddess. He belonged on the floor; what right did he have to stand in the presence of such a woman?

Sheila was wide-eyed, in awe of Marci and the deed she had so swiftly and competently executed.

Betty, being quite excited, ventured a word. “Nice!” But Marci silenced her with a glance and addressed Sheila.

“Men are simple creatures, you know. Not that they’re all alike, but ninety percent of them are easily controlled. There are several methods.” Marci gave Sheila an encouraging smile.

“The trick, of course, will be to select a method that works for you and your husband.” The look on Sheila’s face began to shift from admiration to apprehension.

“I don’t think I could...” she said as she glanced at Buddy, who was beginning to stir. He was massaging his sore balls with his right hand, which had the effect of exposing the outline of the erection in his shorts. Sheila noticed it and her expression changed again, displaying wonder.

Marci chuckled musically. “No, I don’t suppose you’d enjoy inflicting pain. No matter; it’s not for everyone. Here, watch this.” Changing the tone of her voice, she addressed Betty.

“Take of your shoes, Betty.” The sternness in her demeanor was not lost on Sheila and Buddy, although unnecessary to impel Betty, who immediately complied.

Now she turned to the injured man. “Buddy,” she addressed him sharply, “Crawl over here and kiss your mother-in-law’s feet.”

To Sheila’s amazement and Betty’s amusement, Buddy obeyed, crawling on hands and knees the short distance, lowered his head, and kissed the top of Betty’s toes, one foot and then the other.

Buddy was filled with lust. It wasn’t just that it was easier to comply than to defy Marci. It wasn’t that he was particularly afraid the she would hurt him again, either. No, it was as if Marci had discerned his secret desires, longings that he was half ashamed of.

As his lips touched the old woman’s stocking-clad toes, he breathed in the scent of damp nylon and foot-sweat. His cock throbbed with need. He had always dreamed of eating Betty’s pussy. Her age-ripened genitals were so close that he could imagine that they were what he was smelling.

“Lick them,” Marci commanded. And he did so, dampening the skin of the toes and the top of each foot in turn through saliva-soaked nylon with his eager tongue.

“Now suck.” His mouth opened and her toes were sucked hungrily. He made little slurping sounds. His cock pulsed and leaked.

“Stop!” she ordered. And he did, seeming to collect himself. He was suddenly aware of the spectacle he had become and was afraid to look at Sheila. Or any of them. But especially his wife. What must she think of him?

“Good boy, Buddy,” Marci said deeply and sonorously. She patted him on the head. “Yes, you were a very good boy.” Her voice had an almost hypnotic quality, distracting him from his embarrassment.

“Now put your head up here.” She patted the divan between Betty’s thighs.

“Spread,” she told Betty, and Betty spread her legs wide and slid her ass forward.

Buddy put his face into Betty’s crotch and breathed in the smell of her arousal. He sniffed audibly. Betty had been excited since Marci’s arrival, but now she could feel the swelling of tissue and the flowing of juices in her panties.

“Go ahead, Buddy, you can rub yourself against her leg,” Marci said softly. “I know you want to.”

He shifted his butt and placed a knee on either side of Betty’s left foot, pressing his swollen cock against her ankle. Oh, it felt so good!

“That’s it, Buddy. Hump your mother-in-law’s leg!” she urged. “Smell that pussy!”

He was now breathing heavily, and feeling the heat of Betty’s pussy on his face, the scent intoxicating, while grinding his cock and stroking it up and down her shin.

“I want you to cum now, Buddy,” Marcia announced. “Cum for me. Now!”

Buddy’s cock erupted, spurting and creating a huge, spreading wet spot in his shorts. He sagged, groaning, and slumped over onto his back.

“Get up, Betty,” Marci ordered quickly. “Off with your pants.”

Sheila, having been in a state of incredulity for several minutes, was now even more amazed as she witnessed her own mother obediently removing her slacks.

“Yes, those too,” Marci replied to Betty’s inquiring glance, and Betty’s panties were off as well. Sheila marveled at her mother’s clean-shaven mound and sopping labia. Marci pointed at Buddy’s face. “Sit!”

Betty, even if she hadn’t been used to obeying Marci, wouldn’t have needed to be told twice. Placing her knees on the floor beside his head, she lowered herself onto his face and began to grind, especially enjoying the bridge of his nose against her engorged clit.

“You see,” Marci explained, turning Sheila’s attention away from her husband and her mom’s lewd display, “there are many ways to control behavior, especially in naturally submissive people like your mother.” She smiled conspiratorially. “And, it appears, your husband.”

“But ... how...” Sheila had so many questions, but she was struggling to grasp what was happening. Buddy? And her mom? Why were they behaving so lewdly? What had Marci done to them? Sure, Marci was cute as fuck, but it looked like she had some kind of controlling power over them.

“It’s really very simple,” Marci answered. “Most people are naturally submissive and, given the right motivation, they become quite obedient.” She smiled as Sheila watched her mother’s wanton behavior, wide-eyed in admiration.

“You can get people to do pretty much anything you want once you’ve figured them out. It always takes a combination of rewards and punishment, and everyone is different. The trick is not only finding ones that work but also balancing them. For example, your mother is motivated primarily by sexual pleasure and humiliation, so I can punish her by denying sexual relief. Also, pain works as a deterrent with her.” She nodded soberly.

“But you have to be careful with pain. Some people get addicted to it. And then it becomes a reward instead of punishment.” She smiled and tilted her head, gesturing toward the incestuous coupling.

“It’s pretty clear that pain works on your husband! He knuckled under pretty quick!” She chuckled. “But I also already knew that he was a slut for sex, so he wasn’t a hard nut to crack. Most men are like that, at least the highly sexed ones. Their brains are in their most vulnerable spot.” She laughed.

“So, what?” asked Sheila, dubiously. “Am I supposed to kick my husband in the balls every time he gets out of line?”

Marci laughed again. It was a really pleasant, almost musical sound. “No ... No, not at all ... Well, you might need to occasionally.” She allowed, smiling brightly.

“The thing with your husband ... well, I think he’s a major masturbator. I’ll bet he used to do jack off all the time when he was away from home so much. It would only be natural.

"But now he’s always home and you’re always there. So you’re a constant stimulant, but also a deterrent. Being around you is a turn-on, but he can’t just fuck you whenever he wants, can he? And he can’t masturbate with you around, either.

"So he’s probably pretty frustrated. He probably needs sex more than once a day, I’d guess at least ten or twelve times a week. You need to take control of his masturbation if you’re going to control him.”

This was beginning to make sense to Sheila. Meanwhile, Betty’s moans were getting louder and Buddy’s panting was audible as well.

Marci continued, “If you can take charge and especially if you can control his sexual activity, your life is going to be a lot happier.”

Sheila nodded. She could see that working with Buddy. “But how do I keep him from masturbating? How do I control that?”

“Well,” replied Marci, “the classic way is chastity - you lock up his cock or restrain him in some other way - but, based on what I’ve seen, I have a better idea.” She grinned conspiratorially. “What do you think of turning Buddy into a pet?”

“A pet? You mean, like an animal?”

“Exactly.” Marci nodded. “Like a pet dog, for instance - you saw how he humped Betty’s leg ... Do you think you’d enjoy keeping him as a pet?”

Sheila frowned pensively. “Um ... I don’t know, really.”

Marci said, “I can see this is all new to you ... Imagine if he couldn’t talk and he was always obedient to simple commands. He would be very affectionate, but completely under your control. So absolutely no sex with you except exactly when and how you want.”

“Sure, that sounds great! But what about the masturbation? You said he needed...”

“Yes, well, you can easily control that. He wants to masturbate all the time - several times a day if he could, and that’s not going to change. But he would never wear clothes, so you would know what’s going on with his cock. And he wouldn’t be able to use his hands - he’s not human anymore, remember?” Sheila nodded.

“So he would have to hump things, like dogs do. So you would only have to control the when and where. He could hump on you, if you want, like he did your mother. Or he can have a toy to fuck. I’ve seen some very cute K-9 sex toys ... I think he would enjoy fucking one of those. I’m sure he’d hump pretty much anything - seems like the type.” She grinned.

“Wow! It sounds so weird...”

“Well, chastity is the other method. You have to lock up his cock - there are special cages designed for this - and then you can release him and milk him as a special reward. I have friends who have had great success with chastity. I just don’t think that’s the best way for Buddy. No, I definitely think pet training is the way to go. Why, even his name sounds like a puppy-dog’s.” She laughed. Sheila looked uncertain.

“Listen, it’s not as unusual as you might think,” Marci continued. “I know several couples who are into the lifestyle, boy pets and girl pets too. There’s even a local ‘kennel club’ with monthly pet shows.” “Those are fun!” she grinned. She cocked an eyebrow knowingly at Sheila. “Maybe you could attend one of their ... Wait a minute! I think I have some pictures here somewhere...”

Sheila turned to watch her moaning mother pleasure herself on her husband’s face while Marci took out her phone. The squishy sounds of Betty’s sopping sex and the slurping and panting noises beneath her were quite arousing. Buddy was clearly happy as a pig in shit: his hands were grasping his mother-in-law’s gyrating hips to ensure maximum contact with his busy mouth, and his cock was at full mast again, its thick outline visible in his wet shorts, soaked by his recent voluminous spend.

He is a horny old dog! she mused.

“Here you go,” enthused Marci, handing Sheila her phone. “Take a look at some of these.”

Oh my, Sheila thought, surprised at her immediate reaction to the pictures. There must have been fifteen or twenty pictures, some of them at group events, and all of them showing naked men and women portrayed as pets, collared and leashed, presumably dogs?, often lewdly displaying their genitals in various stages of obvious arousal.

Marci watched her as she scrolled, gratified by her obvious interest.

Meanwhile, Betty had come to the end of her endurance. Three orgasms in quick succession are a lot to take for a seventy-two-year-old! She slumped, spent and panting, still sporadically spasming as she tried to dismount, struggling feebly against Buddy’s firm grip and relentless tongue. His cock was straining against the wet fabric of his shorts, visibly in need of relief.

“Buddy!” Sheila exclaimed, “Let her go!”

Buddy immediately released the old lady, who clambered off and rose to her feet.

Well, if I’m going to take charge of things, I might as well start now, Sheila decided.

“Buddy! Take off those disgusting wet shorts. Right now!” she commanded.

Without a glance at her - was he too ashamed to look at his wife? - and without comment, he arched his hips and pulled the shorts and undershorts down and off.

Meanwhile, Betty was returning to her seat on the divan, having picked up her discarded pants. Marci noticed just in time.

“No, Betty, don’t you dare get dressed! Put your slacks and panties wherever the dirty laundry goes. And throw in the rest of your clothes, too. You broke the rules: no pants; so you’ll stay naked for the rest of the day.”

Sheila watched with interest as her mother obeyed instantly, removing her shirt and bra, freeing her loose old-lady titties to droop on her chest.

Buddy was now naked from the waist down, wearing only a polo shirt. “Come here, Buddy,” Sheila ordered. “No! Don’t get up. Crawl over here right now.” She pointed at the floor by her bare feet. She stifled a giggle - wasn’t this a little silly? But it felt good to see her husband’s docile compliance.

Buddy, on hands and knees, crawled sheepishly toward his wife, his face shining with Betty’s juices, and his hard cock swaying brazenly beneath him. He had heard the conversation between Sheila and Marci and was intrigued, curious, and not a little aroused.

When he reached Sheila, he put his head in her lap. Sheila ran a hand through his greying curls. She could smell her mother’s pussy juice, so similar to her own.

“Good boy, Buddy!” she praised him. Then, inspired by the memory of her grandmother’s doting on the chihuahua she’d had when Sheila was young, she spoke to him in a soft sing-song voice.

“Did you like that, Buddy? Do you want to stay like this? Do you want to be Mommy’s special pet?” She tugged at the damp collar of his polo shirt, soaking with drool and pussy juice. “Now let's get this nasty old shirt off of you.” He cooperated meekly.

Marci watched Sheila’s performance with growing admiration. I think this lady’s got what it takes, she thought, deciding at that moment that she was going to help Sheila make it happen. Also, in that moment, Marci felt Sheila’s magnetism. Oh yes, I can help her develop her power, Marci said to herself. And I’m going to have her too! she vowed.

Buddy had to think, but his cock was throbbing and his head was swimming - what the fuck has come over us, he wondered, me and Betty, and now Sheila too! How could he possibly answer Sheila’s question? He had too many questions himself. Did she mean act like this all the time, or just when they wanted to play? He opened his mouth to speak, but Sheila shushed him.

“No, Buddy, dogs can’t talk. Just bark once for yes and twice for no.” Still petting him on the head, she put her right foot between Buddy’s knees and started to rub his throbbing erection, grasping at its sensitive underside with her pretty toes and making little pinches that made him moan.

If she keeps this up, I’m going to cum again, was his thought, as the power to think itself was receding, being overpowered by his baser instincts.

Sheila giggled at his discomfort. She could see clearly now that Marci’s crazy plan could actually work. And why not? It would be amazing to be free, to call all the shots, to keep Buddy completely under control ... helpless against her own desires, her own needs, even her whims. How enticing!

“Don’t you want to be a nice doggy for Mommy? To be her little plaything? Her toy and her pet?” It sounded so right to talk this way, in the third person, in this playful, sing-song voice. She could see she had him mesmerized.

“Just think, my pet, never having to do anything but play, and sniff around, smelling whatever you want, and never having to put on clothes...” She was becoming inspired,

“And, you could rub your nice big doggy-dick against things when it gets hard, like doggies do. You’d like that - humping things - wouldn’t you, my pet?”

Sheila’s talk and her constant foot action were too much for Buddy. “Yip!” he barked, a millisecond before his cock erupted, spewing spurts of cum all over Sheila’s foot and the floor around it.

“Good boy!” Sheila sang. She ruffled his sweaty hair. “Oh what a good doggy you are! Mommy is so proud!” She grasped his chin with her right hand and turned his face toward hers and said softly but firmly,

“Who’s Mommy’s precious pet? Now lick up all your cum. There’s a good boy.”