Background: My wife and I are considering getting into BDSM, something I've very lightly dipped my toes into before, and often fantasized about. She, on the other hand is curious, but not really sure what people find so erotic about the practice. Being a writer professionally, I decided to write a story about a hypothetical scene between us, to show her what was hot about erotic power exchange. So forgive the odd first person/second person experimental narration. She was very turned on by this story, and asked me to write more and to share it and see what kind of response it got. There is much more to come if y'all like this one! Tips and feedback welcome!

• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3

When you woke up in the morning I wasn’t around. As you came downstairs in just your slippers and nothing at all else, you realized this had to be the longest you had gone without wearing clothes in your whole life. You weren’t even sure when you would again. 

“Good morning!”

I had made coffee for us already, and some toast and bacon. As we ate we talked about plans for the day. It was a strange feeling to plan a day in town going to little shops and getting lunch, knowing that I must have had secret sexy things planned for after, and probably before as well. But that was the name of the game, for this weekend you were going to do whatever I said - within the boundaries we had agreed upon. And not knowing what lay ahead in my very creative, twisted mind, was part of the fun.

“Well, it’s probably best not to waste any time.” You gulped down the last of your coffee. “Today I want to try something a little different. It’s kind of a different way to be submissive than just existing and having things done to you, like we did yesterday. A little bit more active. I guess it’s similar in function to you being naked at all times, we’re going to weave in little reminders of your submissive role throughout our day. How do you feel about that?”

“Um, what kinds of reminders did you have in mind?”

“I just mean that I’m going to give you some rules, some protocols. When x happens, you do y. Those kinds of things.”

“Umm, like what?”

“Well the first one is, when I snap my fingers, I want you to stop what you’re doing, and start masturbating right where you are. You can start slow, you can get right to business, you can get yourself all the way off or you can tease yourself. Whatever kind of pleasure you’re looking for in the moment, I don’t care. But you have to start right then, and you can’t stop or otherwise move until I snap my fingers again.”

“Ok that sounds fun!”

“But remember, at no time are you allowed to touch your vulva, labia, clitoris or vagina, or anything at all in that general area, unless I snap my fingers. Not when you’re alone, not when we’re in the same room, not even during sex.” That last addition made you feel something new. It was one thing to play around with sexual servitude with a partner. It was another thing entirely to know that you could no longer even masturbate. It was like I was truly asserting ownership over your sex, over your body even. It didn’t belong to you anymore, it was entirely mine. I could choose to lend it to you for a time, but then I could take it back when I wanted. I could play with it at my leisure, or order you to do so, but it was off limits to you. You didn’t get a say.

“And then there’s just one more protocol for now, so that we don’t make this too complicated off the bat. When I enter the room you are in, or when you enter the room I am in, you will kneel where you are, with your mouth open, facing me. No talking, no moving. You can get up and go about your day as normal once I pat you on the head.”

“But, what if we’re in public?”

“Oooh good point! Thank you for bringing that up. Ok, how about in public instead you have to freeze where you are, and you can move again once I wink at you, how’s that? Other than that you can behave totally normally. And obviously I won’t have you masturbating in public for me, at least, not this weekend…” It still kind of felt like a lot to ask. It could potentially be very embarrassing! At least we were on vacation, and the chances of running into people we knew were very slim. And what’s more, the implication that there could be a future time when I did make you masturbate in public was really working wonders with your exhibitionist streak.

“Sounds good, can do I guess. But why do I have to have my mouth open when I kneel?” You had a feeling you knew the answer that was coming.

“Well, that’s your way of offering to suck my cock, without needing to be asked, basically. But you’re also going to suck whatever I put in there, as though it were a cock. Sometimes it will be, sometimes I’ll just pat your head and release you. The point is, it’s not up to you. Your decision making ability at that moment is zero. Yesterday we focused on your pleasure, today we’re getting you used to focusing on mine.” Yesterday had been a ton of fun; you had come several times. But it had also been quite strange, and even painful, you hardly thought of it as a day focused on your pleasure.

“Ok, I can do that. I can do that, yeah.” You weren’t really sure you could do that. It brought up a lot of things from the past. Like most grown women, you had had a lot of sex in your early twenties that was entirely focused on the man’s pleasure. And in the years since you had worked really hard to be with partners who prioritized yours. This is a game, you told yourself. We were only playing our roles. I wouldn’t actually leave you hanging.

“Well we’ve got some time this morning, let’s do some training exercises.” I snapped my fingers. There were butterflies in your stomach suddenly, as you reached down in your chair, with your breakfast plate still in front of you, and began lightly stroking your vulva. You would never have admitted it, but you were already a little turned on by the thought of having to offer to suck my cock, probably dozens of times over the next two days. The thought of life returning to normal on Monday was bittersweet. A growing part of you dreaded it.

But there was another secret thought in you that had you aroused. You hadn’t noticed it at first but it grew larger and larger in your mind as you transitioned to more directly stroking your clitoris. You weren’t quite ready to look at it directly, and you certainly weren’t ready to express it to me. But there it was, weighing more and more heavily on your psyche as I did the dishes like a normal person. Sat there, naked as the day you were born, masturbating at the breakfast table, and not knowing how long you'd be doing it for, the dangerous thought eventually reached a form that couldn’t be ignored anymore. What if you disobeyed?

You knew it was important to me to take this seriously. And it was increasingly important to you as the weekend went on. There would have to be some kind of punishment, wouldn’t there? Less than twenty-four hours ago you had walked through the door ready to laugh at the idea, but now, feeling the ache of the seat against your ass, you realized last night’s spanking had awoken something in you. But you were afraid to ask the question. You knew I was trying to take this seriously, and there was a good chance that if I had a punishment prepared it was not something you wanted to find out about. On the other hand, if I hadn’t prepared for you to misbehave, maybe there would be nothing planned. That would feel like a break in the dynamic, it would upset the balance of the weekend, and you didn’t want that. I snapped my fingers just before you came.

“Wait, but, no, no like I was, I’m… can I just have like thirty more seconds, please?”

“No. And do not ask again. Do you think I didn’t know you were about to come? How many times have I watched you masturbate?” It was honestly a favorite pastime of mine. “Now let’s go shower, I’ll meet you up there.”

You grabbed us towels and headed upstairs, where you grabbed the toiletry bag. You couldn’t help looking over your shoulder at the door every few seconds, and thinking about what you had to do when I would finally walk through it. It was exhilarating.

Finally I did walk through the door. You turned and knelt with your mouth open as instructed.

“Oooof, no. But this is good, a learning opportunity. When you kneel I want you in a very specific position. Put down the towels and toiletries next to you.” You did as I said. “Now I want you up on your knees, not sitting on your feet. Good good. Now your hands behind your back, each clasping the other forearm. And then arch your back, and spread your knees a bit more. How am I supposed to want my cock sucked if I can’t see your wonderful breasts and pussy?” In this position you really felt like you were offering yourself fully. There would never be any other reason to kneel in such a conspicuous position, so exposed, like a piece of fuck furniture. Fuck it, you were horny from not getting to come, so you figured you would lean into offering yourself. You made a sexy “come hither” motion with your tongue, begging me for more.

You didn’t quite get what you wanted, instead I put my index finger in your mouth. Still, you licked it slowly, starting with your warm, wet tongue along my palm and pulling it backwards along my finger to the tip. You wrapped your lips around the tip and slowly sucked my entire finger in, then proceeded to go back and forth. You couldn’t believe it, but you found yourself wishing it really were my penis. Somehow, all these protocols, specific positions, orders, and reinforcement of roles, they had made you open up in a way, you really did want to offer yourself to me, freely. You wanted to give me pleasure, genuinely. I patted your head and we got into the shower.

“How are you feeling about all of this? Are we still good?”

“Yeah, I think so. I mean it’s a lot, this is a lot. I can feel the role I’m playing, the submissive, taking over. More and more consistently, I feel like just some really lifelike sex toy of yours, but as time goes on, it feels natural instead of degrading. More than natural even, kind of… comforting.”

“Well like we agreed, for this weekend you are my sex toy. I’m glad that you feel that way.” I turned on the water and grabbed your loofah. “Now step in, I’m going to clean you with the other toys.”

You noticed yesterday’s butt plug and vibrator in the shower with you. When I told you to stand there and wait while I cleaned them first you felt the most objectified you ever had in your life. But you also felt safe. You knew it was all just play to me. You knew you could end it at any time. You also knew you didn’t want to. You didn’t yet understand why, and wondered whether you ever would.

Next I began washing you, from head to toes. I gently washed your beautiful face and neck. I did my best to get in your ears. I held your arms up to really scrub your armpits, and soaped up your tits real nice. I washed down your gorgeous and powerful back to your lovely ass. As I washed your asshole surprisingly thoroughly, I reached around front and played with your clit. When you started moaning I put the loofah down. I rinsed your ass, and began tonguing it. It didn’t take long for you to come, at which point I stood up and, leaning you forward with my hand on your back, slid my cock slowly inside you from behind. I hadn’t planned on that, but you were doing such a good job so far, and touching you all over, with our bodies sliding against each other in the soap and water, left me too horny to wait.

“The instructions say you need to be cleaned after every use.” I whisper in your ear as I fuck you from behind with your leg up on the edge of the tub. You feel shame, but also powerful arousal. “Good thing we’re already in the shower.” I snapped my fingers.