The Weekend My Wife and I Became Her Submissives
We crossed that threshold knowing that, once we did, we would no longer have any will of our own until Monday. Neither of us wanted to turn back.
We crossed that threshold knowing that, once we did, we would no longer have any will of our own until Monday. Neither of us wanted to turn back.
I caught him masturbating alone and should have left in embarrassment. Instead, I stayed barefoot before him, waiting for him to tell me what to do with my body.
I pulled my pants down thinking no one could see me. When I stumbled and fell into the sand, two pairs of eyes were already watching me with a smile that promised nothing good.
She walked through the empty classrooms with a folder under her arm and a steel ruler in her hand, never imagining that three bullies would learn to fear the sound of metal that night.
I came back from the kitchen naked, cloth in hand, and knew that night there would be nothing left of my pride on the black marble of his living room floor.
The arm resting across his abdomen wasn’t his girlfriend’s. It was heavy, warm, and masculine. And Bruno couldn’t remember a thing about the night before.
Four months alone in the mountains had left him with a hunger no whisky could soothe. That night, behind the inn’s red curtain, three boys knew exactly how to take him in.
I saw him alone at the kitchen bar, apart from the group, glued to his phone. One look was enough to know that afternoon he wasn’t going to stay as macho as he thought.
They called themselves brothers, men, untouchable. But every excuse —the creatine, the exhaustion, the technique— hid the same truth neither dared name.
He went in believing the showers were empty, but the steam concealed someone else. His teammate had not heard him arrive, and he could no longer look away.
She came back from training still in uniform, looked down at me from above, and I understood that afternoon that something between us was going to change forever.
When I opened the door and saw her standing in the middle of the room, I knew that night’s lesson would never be forgotten: she had come back, and everything changed.
She ordered me to get on all fours in the back room and, while her fingers explored me, I realized she had just uncovered something I’d hidden for years.
I had worn the belt for months and she promised to take it off that night. She didn’t tell me what I’d have to do first to deserve it.
I got off the bus in my flowered dress and with my head bowed; none of those tattooed women had any idea what they would turn me into before the first month was over.
I was the serious guy in the suit and SUV. All it took was for a woman to challenge me with her eyes for the animal inside me to wake up, and that village fair set him loose for good.
I saw her at the edge of the water, eating my boyfriend up with her eyes in front of me. That night I taught her, tied up and on her knees in my room, where she belonged.
I went out alone to explore the northern area and a blow to the back of my head changed everything. I woke up surrounded by strangers, naked and with no escape.
Every morning I put on my shackles before I head out to the fields. No one forces me: I do it because the weight of the chain on my ankles is the only thing that makes me feel alive.
I knew he would come crawling. What he didn’t know was how long I meant to make him wait before I let him even brush the tip of my foot.