• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3
• Chapter 4

In the garage, as you were putting on clothes for the first time in nearly twenty-four hours, you thought about how you had gotten to this point. Just a few weeks ago we were taking a dumb sex menu quiz online to see what interests we had in common. Even a couple days ago while preparing for this weekend, you hadn’t fully realized how intense it would be. You had thought maybe you’d get your hands tied behind your back with a scarf while I fucked you from behind. 

You hadn’t expected to be repeatedly and so very mercilessly reduced to a pile of sated rubbery flesh. You hadn’t expected to be experiencing totally new sensations several times a day. And you certainly hadn’t expected the degree to which I felt comfortable asserting my power over you. In any other context the new “protocols” I had introduced this morning would have seemed laughable. But after the way I had dominated you the day before, and the journey I had taken you on, they felt surprisingly natural.

You found yourself looking forward to the next time you’d be expected to offer to suck my cock, or masturbate at my command. It wasn’t awkward in context, it was freeing. As long as we kept playing this game, we were free of the power struggles that normal couples experience day-to-day. The pecking order was simple, obvious, and consistently reinforced. The first outward symbol of it was that you had to keep your clothes in the car, and only wear them outside the house.

When I walked into the garage while you were putting your pants on, you dutifully did as protocol demanded. With your pants to your knees you immediately stopped, knelt on the cold concrete floor. You clasped your arms behind your back and thrust your breasts forward, mouth open and inviting.

“Hehe, don’t mind if I do.” I giggled to myself as I unzipped my pants and brought my half-hard cock to your mouth. It was drafty in the garage. Your nipples were hard and your upper body uncomfortable, naked and cold. But you kept sucking like a champ, slowly working me to full mast, before speeding up.

“You know my original plan was just to get a little taste but wouldn’t it be cute to take you to lunch with my come already in your stomach?” I reached down to touch your exposed breasts and next thing I knew I was coming down your throat. I could feel your head reflexively snap backwards, before you overrode your base instincts and pushed forward. You coughed and spurted as my semen shot directly down your throat. When the last drop had been swallowed you continued sucking nonetheless.

“Hey, good job, let’s get in the car.”

“No, I’m not allowed to stop yet.” Your speech was garbled as you tried to talk around my dick in your mouth, without stopping sucking. But somehow I made out what you were trying to say and remembered that our new protocol dictated that I tap your head to release you from this position. I pretended to take a few more seconds to remember this though, and enjoyed the warm, gentle caress of your mouth in my post-orgasmic bliss. Finally I patted your head and you finished putting on clothes.

“How does it feel?”

“Honestly, wearing clothes again feels… off. It doesn’t feel like it’s really me wearing them. And the feeling on my skin…”

“No, no, I meant the blowjob.” I interrupted you. “Do you realize in all the time we’ve been together, that’s the first time you’ve ever made me come without reciprocation? What do you feel like knowing that I might choose to do that again at any point during the day?”

“Wow, is that true? Yeah I guess it’s been important to me, as I got older, that sex was reciprocal. Are you serious though, have I really never once given you a surprise blowjob? Not even on your birthday or something?” You felt guilty for a moment. You could certainly think of a few times where the reverse had happened. At the same time you felt dirty, like a come receptacle, used and then ignored. But it didn’t feel dirty in a bad way, like it would when you were younger. It was more like a trust fall. The excitement of danger and strong emotions, but without the actual fear of falling. You knew I wouldn’t actually treat you like that. In the end, you knew I would catch you.

Before our lunch reservation there was a used bookstore in town that we wanted to see. It was known throughout the region for its selection and its decor. It was located in an old, decrepit mansion, with each room being a different genre. The place was packed of course, it attracted a lot of leaf peepers on Fall Saturdays.

“My wife is looking for an erotic novel,” I said to the man at customer service. You glared at me, what kind of game was I playing? “Not a romance novel mind you, the grittier the better. Do you have anything where a wife suddenly finds herself in sexual servitude to her husband of several years? And in the process rediscovers her raw lust for him?” Shoppers on all sides could definitely hear all of this, and you started blushing a bit.

“Hmmm come with me, I may have just the thing.” You and he went upstairs while I perused a bit. I followed you thirty seconds later, just after you had entered the erotica room. You knew the rules. You couldn’t kneel and offer to suck me off right there like protocol demanded when we were alone, so instead you were to continue standing where you were, feet firmly planted, while trying to be inconspicuous.

I caught your eyes fervently darting towards me every few seconds, hoping to see the wink that would release you to move freely. It didn’t come. The shopkeeper continued to talk to you about the collection of some author or another, pulling examples off the shelf to show you. Finally when he finished explaining that series, he took you over to another author. Or, he tried to.

Your feet stayed firmly planted where they were. You had to think fast, so you grabbed a book off the shelf in front of you and asked about it, to draw him back. You thought about how humiliating it was, to submit to such arbitrary whims of mine, even in public. Was I enjoying watching you panic? Did this get me hard? What if I had forgotten about this protocol altogether, and no release wink was coming?

I showed no signs of being about to release you, and you kept on floundering, grasping at ideas as the man helping you tried over and over to show you a series on the other side of the room. Your mind’s eye flickered through all the possible punishments that might be in store for you if you broke this rule. Were you aroused by this? If they were anything like the spanking and flogging you had received the night before you might like to experience a taste.

So you worked up the courage and you did it. You followed the man across the room. You disobeyed. An observer would never have noticed anything, but between the two of us the energy was palpable. Something had snapped, broken. As soon as we were alone in the erotica room I looked at you and shook my head.

“You’re really going to regret that when we get home.”

After lunch, I decided to broach the subject in the car. I was glad I did it then, with your clothes on, after having had a fun lunch together. Our dynamic had slipped backwards towards equality momentarily, which I used to have a more serious conversation about the nature of our dynamic this weekend.

“So we need to talk about what happened in the bookstore. Can you tell me about which rule you broke, and why?” You explained that you knew you had broken our public protocol and that you had felt awkward and exposed trying to follow it. The final straw was when you thought that maybe I had simply forgotten to wink.

“I can understand all that. But I want you to know that I didn’t forget, and I will absolutely always do my best not to, I value you and this dynamic, it’s always going to be at the forefront of my mind.” You felt comforted by this. You felt like you were important to me, even if I sometimes reduced you to a sex slave.

“Plus, I was a little curious about what would happen if I stepped out of bounds. I think on some level I wanted to see how seriously we were willing to take this game. Maybe even to feel constrained, like there was no way out?”

“I was afraid that might be part of it. We need to decide how we move forward from this. Obviously I have no hard feelings, I love you, and I understand why you did what you did. But in order for us to maintain this dynamic you will have to be punished all the same. You said yourself that subconsciously you were maybe craving it a bit, but before you consent, I need to explain something.”

What came next made your stomach turn. I explained how all the playing we had done up until that point was for pleasure. Yes, even that very hard flogging. Truth be told, you had enjoyed it, so, as surprised as you were to hear it, you could follow my logic. The problem was, that if we disciplined you with something that you enjoyed, it wouldn’t do much to correct the behavior and prevent it in the future.

So, nonchalantly as though describing a list of chores that we needed to do, I explained that, with your consent, what was going to happen to you that afternoon would be things you didn’t enjoy. There would be no light degradation followed by an orgasm. I reminded you of course that you could safeword out whenever you needed.

“So, do you agree? I know it sucks for you, and honestly I won’t enjoy it a ton either, but can you see how in order to continue enjoying this play, we need to solidify the dynamic, to embody our roles? It’s like we’ve been saying, yes this is all play, it’s a game, but games are only fun if you commit to playing by the rules.”

You gulped and the butterflies in your stomach felt like they were threatening to escape out your mouth. But I was right, my logic was solid, and you did want to see where this dynamic went. You were starting to get wet imagining what might happen to you when we got home. Finally you really understood what was so erotic about submission. Even when it wasn’t overtly sexy, there was something incredibly hot about it.

“I… I agree. I want you to do whatever you have to. I’m sorry I broke a rule and I’m ready to accept my punishment so that we can keep our dynamic alive and flowing. I understand your logic.”

For all my talk about how this was an unfortunate but necessary part of the roles we were playing, hearing you express your willingness, bordering on desire, to undergo punishment for me, made my dick start to get hard. You were ready to really submit.

I pulled into the garage and clicked the big door closed behind us. Instinctively you began removing your clothes. Being seen naked rapidly brought you back to the headspace of a slave, and seeing you so vulnerable brought me back to my dominance as well.

“Go inside and do the dishes. When you’re done, start chopping vegetables for dinner. I need to google a few things. Oh and one more thing.” I went to the trunk and grabbed some heavy duty shackles, one set I locked around your hands, and the other around your feet, preventing either set of limbs from spreading more than a foot or so. “Now get inside. You’ve lost your slipper privileges and your furniture privileges until I say so.”

I watched you hobble your way inside, taking small steps and opening the door with two hands. In the car, I opened up a private browser on my phone and started googling BDSM slave punishments.