Submission

That night I learned that giving her over completely meant renouncing my own virility while he took her over my face.

We’d been in the scene for months, but that night, between the dungeon and the club, I found out how far my wife could go when she truly let herself loose.

I woke up naked beside a man who wasn’t my husband and, for the first time in years, I felt completely desired. He still wasn’t done with me.

She had been wearing the vibrating egg since they left the hotel, and Lorenzo decided when she would come in front of everyone. That night, her husband was no longer part of the equation.

When Renata drew back the curtains and had me on all fours facing the glass, I knew that night was going to belong to everyone passing in the street, not just her and my husband.

When Diego held out his hand to dance, I knew my husband would only watch. And that I, for once, would stop being the respectable wife everyone thought I was.

Lucía had always wondered what it would feel like with a man like her sister’s husband. That night she found out, while Tomás knelt waiting with a cage between his legs.

When he told me he had bargained my price sitting at the bar, I should have been outraged. Instead I felt my cunt quiver imagining the scene.

I found her waiting for me in bed, but that night I didn’t want her all to myself. I took her into the hallway, naked, right in front of my friend’s door.

We’d been playing our secret game for months, but when Bruno closed the hotel door and Tomás sat down to watch, I knew there was no turning back that night.

When Lucía crossed the room and sat on his lap without looking at me, I knew that night I would only watch, and that it was exactly what we both wanted.

Nando left my panties bunched around one ankle, and while Bruno held me against the sofa, I understood that that night I was the merchandise they both wanted to break in.

That night we agreed to do something different. I’d cook, open the door, and watch her enjoy another man. What I didn’t imagine was how much I’d enjoy obeying.

She expected shouting, maybe the end of everything. Instead, he handed her a glass of wine and asked her to tell him everything, without leaving out a single detail.

That night I knelt while another man took my wife on the table. He thought he was in control; neither of them suspected what was really happening between us.

“Cooperation is the only currency you have,” the message said. Mariana put the phone down, knowing she would obey again, just like last time.

When she entered that club hidden behind a theology bookstore, Marlene knew her husband’s freedom would be paid for with every garment she shed before the judge.

I accepted the bet with laughter and wine. Twenty minutes later, he was taking a satin apron and gloves from the drawer, and I was no longer in charge of the house.

She opened the door expecting the usual bottle. Instead, he offered her a lace apron and a smile that didn’t take no for an answer.

She crosses the street, thighs clenched, careful not to lose a single drop of what he asked her to bring home. Her husband waits awake.