Writers Research

I looked up from the printout, laid it back down on the breakfast table and smiled “it’s a great start”

“But? There is always a ‘but’ ” 

For a successful writer Michael could be so needy at times. What is the reason for the wife making him wear her panties I asked, Michael said the plot would gradually reveal the wife to be a twenty-first century successful business woman who enjoyed dominating her male staff. 

“So the panties are a way of her making her husband understand she is completely in charge?” I asked. Pleasure spread across Michaels face at my picking up his reason for the paragraph “so how does that look to her with his mass of pubic hair bulging out?” I turned back to the printout “is she just dominating during sex or is she starting to assert herself as the marriage alpha?”

Michael writes for five hours each day finishing mid-afternoon. Our life centres around this. And rightly so. Michael is the breadwinner. I kissed his cheek, the mid morning sun hid behind high cloud, enough for me to garden for a few hours until the cloud burnt off. 

As I knelt, weeding, a man-shape shadow over my shoulder alerted me, I looked up. Michael held a sheaf of scribbled notes, a sure sign of excitement. It’s rare for him to leave his study during the day. Every morning he takes a bento box and jug of iced tea into his study to write undisturbed.

“Wife makes husband shave his pubes” Michael read the scene to me “thoughts?”

“Not realistic, written without understanding” I said then expanded, what does husband shave, pubic hair or neck down? Is wife going to take things further? Husbands feeling of being hairless? I paused, turned back to weeding.

“Keep going, keep going…” Michael said as he scribbled away.

“Is this going to be an erotic novel Michael?” I said

“That was not my intention” he nodded, walked away a few steps then tuned back “but a little kink would certainly help sales”

He went back to writing, I went back to gardening. 

I could hear the click-clack-clackety-clack of his mechanical keyboard as I stood at Michaels study door. I knocked and waited, he called back ‘soon’ 

Our arrangement has never altered since we moved to this house. My tap is enough, I never open the door, never distract Michael as he empties his head-buffer into the keyboard. Early next morning Michael prints out then reviews the previous days writing before handing it to me at the breakfast table.

———//———

“It is fine to get the ball rolling, you are breaking new ground, outside your comfort zone…”

“ENOUGH” Michael cut in, we both laughed, we always do, the editorismistic phrases had become a lighthearted way of my saying the writing was awful. 

“Does online research ever work?” I said as I read the articles Michael had used for research on his iPad. 

“Like I could do writers research, you don’t even like the lights on” 

Sex with the lights on was one of Michaels ‘things’. Since before we married I had reserved ‘lights-on’ as a special reward. 

I had only read a little of his online research but one theme stood out as compulsory. As Michael stood to go to his study I blocked his way, leant in as if I was about to kiss his cheek and, quoting him, I softly said “go shave for me, neck down”

He stepped back, his eyes wide “what did you say?” 

 

Ignoring the question I walked away, and began clearing away breakfast things. Standing quietly in the kitchen I heard footsteps overhead, the shower turn on.

———//———

“Pyjamas off, choose yourself a pair of panties from my closet” I said as Michael approached our bed, he froze, “or would you prefer the ones I wore today?”

Michael ignored my demand, he was blushing “I have all the research I need” he slipped into bed and turned out the light “I don’t know why you do it, hairless feels weird” He spooned in behind me.

“Not tonight” I said even though I was naked, my ‘sex-tonight’ signal “no panties no sex” Michael rolled away, sat up. I sat up to watch “put the light on”

“No writing to review today?” I asked as we breakfasted in the garden. 

The day before Michael had written until I had knocked a second time. By providing a real life experience I had made a complete rewrite necessary 

I said “do you want me to continue?” 

“No, it would be too much to ask” Michael said “my publisher did like my rough plot-line, said it needed work but had ‘some’ potential”

“When have I ever shied away from assisting your research?” I asked, I loved supporting my husband and I was willing to act dominant if that is what the novel required “I can only assume writers before you did exactly what you did - google - and that stuff online is pure fantasy, unbelievable nonsense”

Just like any of Michaels previous research trips or experiences we worked out the general details. To support my writer husband I was taking the part of the ‘wife’ character, Michael would play the ‘husband’ character.

———//———

I thought about what Michael written so far, thought about how I could help. As I sat daydreaming I found myself wandering back to childhood; the first time I was allowed tea, the first time I was allowed to stay up until 9pm, the first time I drank alcohol, the first kiss. 

All of those things had felt so strange at first - just like the ‘wife’ in Michaels novel would feel strange. 

I would research successful women, re-read the online domination stories until being the ‘dominant wife’ no longer felt strange, until I understood.

Without prior warning we took a weeks holiday to Rome, Michael was like that, if he sat in front of his iMac at a loss for words he would burst out of his study, phone the local travel agent and ask for a flight ‘within the hour’ returning a week later. Destination was never discussed, boarding passes appearing on our iPhones the only clue of where we were headed.

As we passed by the Spanish Steps and along Via Frattina I guided Michael into my favourite lingerie store - Brighenti. I had shopped there before, enough to know the staff spoke English. I picked up what I knew Michael would call a ‘fuck-me’ bra and brief set, and I’m not talking price-tags here. I asked if he liked them and he nodded eagerly “do you have these in my husbands size?” I asked.

Totally ignoring Michael the sales assistant asked ‘what size does he usually wear?” 

“Could you measure please, I have just this moment decided he will wear them”

In an effort to speak in private Michael said  “don’t do this, I want to leave right now” in Dutch 

“Please step into the fitting room ‘sir’ ” the sales assistant said in flawless Dutch, her air quotes required no fingers to indicate their presence.

“Do as you are told” I smirked at Michael before turning to the sales assistant “I want him to wear them”

We sat outside a café in Piazza di Trevi, still early enough in the day to bask in the warm sun yet late enough for tourist guides to have left. Words had been flowing from Michaels fountain pen into his Rhodia webbie for the past two glasses of Frascati. “Is your new bra comfortable?” I asked loud enough for nearbours to hear. A hint of smoke curled up from the nib of Michaels fountain pen.

Over dinner Michael explained how he had felt in Brighenti, the shame he felt at being humiliated in public before thanking me for putting so much effort into helping “it seems like the novel has a direction all of its own and my pen races to keep up” he forked pasta “what next?”

“Would ‘the wife’ seek agreement from ‘the husband’ Michael?” I paused then said I could not remember seeing him so consumed by writing as I had that afternoon “did me suddenly taking control spark off an idea?”

Michael seemed deep in thought and I let him stay there until whatever fragments bounced around his head had formed into a thought of speakable dimensions. He shook them into place with a nod “That was the exactly way ‘the husband’ would have experienced it”

———//———

If Michael needed the spontaneity that we discovered in Rome then I felt it was my duty to provide it. “No one can survive with just one set of underwear” I said as we did the weekly food shop, I walked into the clothing section “you need half a dozen panties and…” I watched the horror spread across his face “three bras. Do you know your size?”

I left him there while I dress shopped. 

If someone had asked me a fortnight ago about the scenarios in online fiction describing the pleasure of dominating a man or feminising a husband I would have said such scenarios existed only in the heads of men. 

If someone asked that same question now my answer would be the same even though inside my head I knew there was at least one woman on planet Earth who took pleasure from such things.

Michael combined the look of a dog that had just chewed its mistresses slippers and the colour of chilli pepper as he pushed the shopping cart toward me. 

The dresses I had first spotted on the store website were on end of season offer. They had a white Peter Pan collar, quarter sleeves edged in matching white lace. Teamed with a white pinafore and heels they would form the basis of his uniform. I added one of each colour to our cart and sent Michael to pay “ignore the queue, go to Julia’s checkout” 

I thought of how he would feel when he realised he had purchased his own maids uniforms while I waited in the car. I thought of the pleasure I would get from mentioning how Julia, our neighbours 19 year old daughter, would have realised that the clothing was not my size but his.

“One more stop” I said as I pulled into traffic. Just as plot lines in female domination fiction all led to one thing my thoughts all led to one shop. I had planned the visit once by telephone and in my mind two times over, I do not overthink things.

“I want to put my husband in chastity” I told the sales assistant.

She smiled the smile of someone younger.

She smiled the smile of someone not of the gender I had initially assigned her from a distance.

 

“I spoke to Tiffany” I offered.

“That is me” Tiffany said as she laid out chastities of varying designs “…and cruelest of all…” she put down a plastic chastity and a small pack of numbered zip-ties “in theory he could cut the tie, release himself. In reality he will not dare”

“This is not part of the plot…” Michael began

“Silence” Tiffany said throwing a stare “your mistress might consider a ball gag”

Michael complied, I was ready to put Tiffanys plan in operation “is it difficult to fit?” A smile escaped, I forced it into a smirk.

“We offer a fitting service for £10, and you can watch and learn” Tiffany picked up the components and a spray can. Michael looked horrified but followed Tiffany without a word “nice panties, slip them to your knees”

A snigger escaped, my telephone conversation with Tiffany had not fully prepared me for what was now happening. Michael had become fully hard, I used Tiffanys script, word for word “I am so, so sorry…Michael, Tiffany is doing her job not fulfilling some disgusting fantasy of yours”

Tiffany smiled as she picked up the can of FreezeSpray 

“Will there be anything else?” Tiffany asked

“I wanted some condoms with something inside to increase my pleasure” I said then locked eyes with a confused Michael as I waited for Tiffany

“What is it you want inside?” Tiffany said barely able to keep a straight face.

“Other mens cocks” I said with a giggle. 

———//———