Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here[Author's note: Hector has signed a contract with his wife Lotte to enter into 24/7 slavery under total female control. He expected to add a sexy new dimension to their bedroom games, but he soon realises just how serious about a Female-Led Relationship his Domme wife is. Then she reveals that her best friend is also in on his little secret, agreeing to train and subjugate him on behalf of his wife. Both women are determined that he will be conditioned into total obedience.
Contains themes of consensual female-led-relationship, impact play. If femdom is not your thing, please browse my other stories for something more to your taste.]
---
TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT
Hector stirred, rising gradually from the depths of a dreamless sleep. The pillow was soft against his cheek, his body covered by smooth sheets. He was naked, shifting slightly, feeling the constriction of leather around his ankles and wrists, the collar around his throat. He drifted gently in the moment between sleeping and waking, content to linger. He opened his eyes at last.
Soft brown eyes were staring back at him, close up, framed by a tangle of blonde hair. He blinked, frowning, disorientated.
"Morning Heck. You were snoring. I don't know how your wife puts up with it."
The eyes were smiling. She shifted, snuggling down into her pillow again.
"Morning," Hector replied.
He frowned again, trying to remember the rules. He'd been addressed differently last night, as a slave. This morning, Bea had used his name, so was he allowed to use hers? What was the proper way to address her? Suddenly, he felt tired.
With the tiredness, the rest of the previous night poured in and he groaned, rolling onto his back.
The ceiling was not his. Definitely not his bedroom. Definitely not his wife next to him. He let it all come back to him and he screwed his eyes tightly shut.
"Yeah, Heck. Me too. What a mess," Bea murmured.
"I'm sure Brent's a reasonable guy, Bea."
Bea laughed, replying, "You mean he got that personality transplant after all? He's been on the waiting list all his life."
"I need to tell Lotte."
"Or I do, Heck. I'll get Brent on side, I'll tell Lotte what happened, leave it to me. It's my mess."
Hector opened his eyes again, rolling over to face her.
"How's it your mess? Really? He's a prick, always has been. He was going to fucking do things to you, in your own hallway. You're not to blame."
Bea shrugged, nuzzling further into the pillow, murmuring, "Nah, I am. I shouldn't have let him... I mean, that first time after we split, I should have just kicked him out of the house, but I didn't."
Her mouth turned down.
"Why didn't you?" Hector asked as gently as he could, "Or turn him down the next time he came around?"
Bea stared at him, not answering, her face close to his, searching his eyes. Hector waited patiently.
"Because I'm lonely, Heck."
Her lovely brown eyes closed.
"I see you two together, and I just think, fuck, why didn't I get that? Where's my happy ever after?"
She shook her head.
"I've got this house, on my own. I keep thinking that I should have bought an apartment instead, something closer into the city, more people."
"Why didn't you?"
"You and Lotte live out here, just in the next suburb. If I moved out, then what would happen?"
"It's an extra half an hour. It's not the moon, we'd still visit. Plus, you'd make friends, I know you would, you're great."
"I'm just great, am I? After all the time you've known me."
"You're not just great, Bea. You're the best. If there was a picture dictionary definition of the word, it'd just have your photo."
"Oh, now you're just talking shit," Bea replied, but she grinned at him.
"Yeah, I am," he grinned back, "And I'm not. You deserve so much better than Brent."
"If only you'd said that earlier."
"Like when?"
"Like maybe my wedding day, or even better, the engagement party, or fuck it, how about the first time you met the guy? You never said anything."
"I'm sorry Bea, I thought he made you happy. That was all I was thinking about."
"No, Heck. I settled. Brent came along and ticked a bunch of boxes and I thought, well, just give it a go."
"Why?"
Bea rolled onto her back and raised her hands to her face, rubbing her temples.
"I told you, I saw you and Lotte. I saw how strong you are together, how just so fucking together you are together. I wanted to feel that too."
Hector hesitated, holding back. No, he decided, Bea was baring her soul. It was only right that she heard the truth.
"We look together," he said.
Bea dropped her hands and looked at him, frowning.
"I get that we look like a unit," Hector found himself elaborating, "Even down to the slave contract and the lifestyle change."
"But what? You're not?"
Hector shrugged. "I guess."
"Shit, Heck, that's news. You both, uh, you seem...."
"Yeah, I know. It's a good show, right?"
"You're happy though, aren't you?"
Hector shrugged.
"Yeah, sure," he replied, "But then that's just it. I've always done that. Lotte's the planner, the one with the opinions. I go with the flow. She heads off in some direction, like buying the house we did, or going for the promotion, or, well, you get the idea. I roll with it. She's happy and I'm happy that she's happy. Happy wife, happy life."
"Shit, Heck."
"Yeah, shit. So now you know. Now, this has come along."
"And is it helping?"
"I guess I thought the contract would change things, open up a new chapter for us. But it turns out it's still the Lotte show, the same chapter, redubbed."
"That doesn't make sense, Heck."
"Yeah, you're telling me. Same story."
"No, redubbed. You can only redub music, not stories."
Hector stared at Bea. Her eyes widened.
"You're such a shit stirrer," he smiled at her.
"Oh really? By the way it's Ma'am to you. Slaves should show more respect. I reckon this nice soft bed has softened your head," Bea replied, finishing with, "What?"
Hector's smile faded.
"Hey, what?" Bea insisted, "What's that face for?"
Hector expelled a long breath.
"Heck, sorry, I was just joking. We're not, I mean, I didn't mean that. I'm not starting the slave thing."
She put her hand on his chest.
"I was just giving you shit, Heck."
She scratched his bare skin with her fingertips.
"I know you were, but I know you're not. I guess it's all changed, right? You're gonna say that in the future and I have to switch. I've been thinking about tomorrow, when we're both at work, what I'm going to have to call you, how I have to act."
"None of that changes, Heck."
"But it does. You know and I know what I am, Bea. I know that Lotte has delegated you authority. I need to always be ready. If you wanted to, I'd have to call you Ma'am in the office. I could get away with it, maybe, but it'd start to sound odd."
"I wouldn't make you do that."
"Last week, if you'd told me to do something, I could have said no. Tomorrow, I'll do everything you say. Even if it's not what I want to do, I won't have a choice."
"Because I'll be your boss?"
"No, Bea. Uh, yeah, I guess, but everyone else, they can object. If they don't like the way you run things, they can get a transfer or leave, or just content themselves with bitching behind your back. I can't. I have to obey. I signed the contract."
Bea's fingers continued to play with his chest in tiny movements. Hector enjoyed her touch, that bit of human connection after a weekend of segregation.
"I don't want you like that," she said at last, "I like you as Heck. Who am I gonna have lunch with?"
She rolled away, onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.
"I don't want to be lonely at work, too," she confessed in a small voice.
Bea folded her arms across her chest and stayed like that for a long time. Hector watched her face, the little lines as her forehead wrinkled.
"The contract really fucked things up," Bea said, "Lotte made it out like it would be all just fun. I should have known better."
"Meaning?"
"Oh, you know what I mean, Heck. I know her too, remember. Lotte's big idea. It was just so hard not to get caught up in it, all the planning, the research."
"You went through with it too."
Bea fixed him with a glare and Hector backpedalled.
"Hey, I mean, uh, shit, that sounded like blaming, Bea, sorry. I meant you must have liked it, to go along with it."
"Yeah, I guess."
"Just guess."
"It's just, I dunno. Lotte's so much more into it than I am. She's deep into the power games, the discipline."
"So are you."
"You think?" Bea shot back, "I gave you a couple of strokes and I gotta confess something, Heck."
"What?"
"I'm done. Ticked that box, got my astronaut wings. I can say I did it, and I now know that I can do it. But, Lotte's actually, properly into it. I could see that in her face."
"What are you into? Do you really know?"
"Yeah, shit. That's the trick. Separating the wood from the trees. Lotte had a list and she's working her way down it, and I thought I'd give it a go."
"But, what do you like? You?"
Bea bit her lip, replying, "I can't tell you that."
"Hey, sure you can, Bea. I've stood in nothing but a collar and a cock cage in front of your ex-husband. We're a long way past shaming."
"It's not about shaming."
"Then what is it? Just say, it's okay, I promise."
Bea bit her lip. She didn't say anything. Hector waited for her to continue.
"In the garden, when you brushed against me, remember? You left a trail."
"Yeah, I did. I remember."
"I told you to clean it off, to use your mouth. Remember?"
Hector nodded. He couldn't ever imagine forgetting that moment, the feel of the denim, the last of the stripe of precum he'd left behind, the smell of the cloth and the scent of something deeper: Bea's powerful arousal.
"I like that, exercising that gentle power over you. Not threatening you to get what I want, but offering. Seeing you give me control, like it's a gift, rather than me taking it. I was the one with all the power and it felt like...."
"It's okay. Tell me."
She swallowed. "You dropped. You opened up completely for me and I had the power over you. To have you kneeling there and to know that I had the power to make you do whatever I wanted."
Bea stumbled to a halt again, staring at him. Hector waited for her to find the right words. His heart was hammering in his chest.
"It's nothing like the stories, Heck. It's not about the leather or the high heels, or the scraping and crawling. It's about being given a superpower by another living being who has entrusted you with everything. It's about being strong enough for both of us, to protect you when you can't protect yourself."
She smiled at him, a fragile expression on her face.
"You were so tender, Heck, so obedient. I couldn't help myself. I nearly came, just from the look in your eyes. Tell me something."
"What do you want to know?"
"Tell me what you wanted to tell me back then."
Hector wanted to tear his eyes away from her face, from the honesty there. She had turned the confession back on him, prising open his secret heart.
"I wanted you to tell me to worship you," Hector whispered, his voice becoming hoarse, "I wanted you to take all your privileges over me."
"How about now? Do you still want me to tell you?"
Hector's breath caught in his throat. Lost in her wide, guileless eyes, he crossed the line he'd never expected ever to cross.
"Yes, Ma'am," he rasped.
Bea fixed him with a stare that cut all the way.
"Obey me, slave," she murmured, "Please me."
Wordlessly, Hector slithered down under the sheets, sliding over her thigh to nestle between her legs. Bea pulled the sheets up, looking down her body at him, her expression fixed, a mixture of shock and longing. When Hector grasped the waist of her pyjama pants, she lifted her bottom up without comment, allowing him to strip her lower body bare.
Secluded in the tent of sheets, tucked between Bea's thighs, Hector's eyes fell on the neat, trimmed patch of her hair and the enticing folds of her womanhood. He'd imagined this, wondering how she would taste, how she would react, what he would do to bring her the perfect pleasure he wanted to bestow. Now, incredibly, here he was, shielded from the guilt of infidelity by his slave contract, bound to serve the woman who had taken control of him.
But, as he reached forwards and finally touched his lips to her willing entrance, he didn't believe that. The contract, the training, it had been a game. Hector felt like they'd finally broken through at last, free of the instruction manual. As he nuzzled between Bea's moistened labia, searching for the little hard nub of her clit, Hector wasn't playing anymore. There would be worship, there would be ecstasy. The only reality he needed, he'd found right here between Bea's thighs.
There was a susurration from above him as Bea caught her breath, a little shiver passing through her that he felt on his lips. He met her lidded gaze.
"I want to be trained," he told her.
Bea reached down, cupping the back of his head with her hand, guiding him delicately. A little tilt, then pressure, pushing his lips against her clit, making Hector suck the little button between his pursed lips until she squirmed.
She pulled him back, rolling her hips to brush her slit against his face, pushing him in again. Hector's tongue snaked out of his mouth, finding and tasting her entrance. He circled it with just the tip, feeling Bea squirm beneath him. Hector slid his hands under her rear, sinking his fingers into the yielding flesh of her bottom, pinning her in place as he bore into her, abruptly, penetrating her as far as he was able with his tongue.
Hector's cock strained against its plastic shell, painfully swollen but unable to rise. The sensation of being trapped, impotent, held between Bea's legs, stirred powerful emotions within him. Her hips shifted again and he obeyed without hesitation, rasping the flat of his tongue against her outer lips, questing within, brushing her clit, smothering himself in her scent and her moisture. His world narrowed to just the ache between his legs and the sanctuary he had found between hers.
He didn't have to worry about Brent, or Lotte, or work. All he needed to know, he found in the little sheltered space beneath Bea's sheets, feeling his way, learning her body. She gasped, catching her breath again. He drew her clit into his mouth and was rewarded with steady pressure on the back of his head, pushing him into the sopping recesses of her crotch.
"You have no idea how much I've needed this," Bea hissed, squirming against his face, "I could just keep you here forever."
They were only a few words, thrown out in the moment, but they tugged on the threads that went deepest. It all opened up in his mind, unbidden, the vision of his future self; serving his wife in the bedroom, or in the kitchen, dropping to his knees at a click of her fingers and burying his face between her legs. Then, at work, taking a meeting, talking business, then being installed beneath Bea's desk as she rolled up her skirt, going through the project reports while Hector serviced her, hidden between her legs. A life under total control of two women, twenty-four seven, permanent servitude, stirred conflicting emotions: to give himself up completely, but also to lose himself. There would be no escape. To keep him forever, Bea had just said, as if reading his thoughts.
She directed him expertly, teaching him her body, the little ways that she liked, how she responded the same as Lotte for some things and differently for others. The tip of his cock burned, raging against its imprisonment, but he bore it, transmuting that aching desire into passion for service. Bea was mewling now, both her hands running through his hair, no longer directing him, her fingernails raking wantonly over his scalp.
"Oh... that's it," she groaned, "Serve your mistress."
She shuddered as she said the words, revealing herself to him, the thoughts playing through her own head. Above him, Bea was revelling in the control she was exerting over him, playing out a fantasy that Lotte may have put there with her stories and her plans, but which Bea had embedded and taken as her own.
Lotte had programmed her as much as she'd programmed her own husband, but in different directions: her to take control, and him to be reduced to a sex toy unable to resist. Mistress, she had said: the full and final acceptance of her place above him.
Bea began to buck and arch, saying words that fell away into gibberish. Hector plunged his tongue deep inside her, sealing his mouth over her slit, sucking powerfully and being rewarded with the taste of her fluids as her inner walls spasmed against him. Above him, there was a high-pitched cry, and then she came.
Hector held her in position, enduring the grind of her pubis against his face as she heaved and shuddered, riding the waves of ecstasy rippling through her body, pushing her further until her hands were pawing uselessly against his head, the dominant rendered helpless by her slave's ministrations.
Hector showed mercy, pulling back, lapping against her slit, bringing her down gently from the heights he'd pushed her to. At last, he felt her body relax. He parted her with his fingers, exposing her little pink button and gave it a kiss that made her shudder.
Bea cupped her hand under his chin, drawing him up to face her. His lips gleamed with her moisture. Bea stared at him, as if amazed, stunned into silence. Her hand was balled into a fist under her chin. Bea didn't blink, unfurling her fingers to reveal the little tool in the palm of her hand. Hector stared at it, dumbfounded.
"Unlock yourself. I command it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm still on the pill. I'm safe. I want you."
The tool glinted in her palm.
"You either obey or use your safeword, that's all you have, slave."
He saw it in her eyes, the meaning behind the words, the thing she was offering. She held his gaze, waiting for him to decide.
"Tell me what you want," she whispered, her eyes wide.
He kissed her. Bea smiled.
Hector took the tool from her hand and reached down to his crotch, sliding it into the tiny barrel over the top of the clear plastic casing that imprisoned his genitals. He turned it, feeling the confinement easing and then suddenly falling away. Bea reached down between their bodies, grasping the casing and pulling it away from his vanquished manhood, liberating it at last. She dropped the cage over the edge of the bed. Her hand returned to his crotch. Hector tensed, waiting for the sublime contact of her fingers.
When it came, his manhood thrilled to her touch, rising from its curled position into a solid column. Bea wrapped her hand around it, stroking up and down. She grasped his shaft and pushed down, steering his body. He felt the sodden warmth of her entrance pushing against his tip.
"Are you ready to obey?" Bea asked.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"No. Mistress now. You'll give me everything."
"Yes, Mistress," Hector breathed.
He buried himself inside the woman beneath him, pounding into her savagely as she stared up at him, allowing him to release all his pent-up need in a dozen powerful strokes before he erupted inside her, filling her with his seed. It was brutal, animal, ecstatic, as Bea allowed him to slake his need, bearing down on her petite, lithe body, and finding his own release at last. He throbbed and pulsed inside her, emptying himself, no longer a husband, nor a slave, nor a friend, nor a toy; none of those things, and all of them all at once.
"Was that good?" she asked, her voice gentle, her hands stroking his reddened face.