My wife and I were invited to a retirement reception a couple of Saturdays ago. A few days before the event, I began sending my (normally dominant) wife a series of tasks.

They started simple. She always has a phone at or near 10%, so the first task was to put her phone on the charger and respond with “done.” I got her response pretty quickly, which told me she was at least kind of buying in to my game.

The next task was to download a secure messaging app and find me in the app. She ignored the message for a couple of hours, so I texted that I would change the WiFi password, disabling the tv’s and her work laptop. The next thing I knew, she messaged me in the app.

A couple of hours later, while we were both at work, I messaged her to send me a topless picture of herself. Within 30 minutes I got a picture of her bare chest in her work bathroom. This told me she had given in to following my instructions even more.

Cut to the morning of the reception/date. I tasked her with going to our local adult superstore alone and purchase a riding crop, then to present it to as an offering. (Going to these stores is completely out of her comfort zone, especially alone). She protested a little, but then I heard her leave the house and saw her drive away. About an hour later she walked back in and held out the black device on her palms. I repaid her with praise and kisses.

We dressed for the reception: I picked out my black-pouched thong to wear under my black suit, and she wore a lacy black matching bra & panty set under a black dress. When we finally arrived, we mingled for a bit and had a couple of drinks. Since we both had friends at the event, we got separated talking to different groups of people. I messaged her with the next task: leave me a voicemail where she describes in detail what she would do to get my cock in her mouth as quickly as possible. Then she needed to go into detail about what she would do with it when she got it in her mouth.

I saw her check her phone from across the crowded room. She blushed and smiled slightly. Then she looked around until she found me. We made eye contact, she turned away from me, and touched her phone screen. A few seconds later, my phone started buzzing, and I tried to ignore it. It was in my back pocket, pressed against the silky pants liner and my bare ass. My imagination made my vibrating phone feel like it was connected directly to my cock, which began bulging against my underwear pouch.

I saw my wife walk back into view, and her phone was nowhere to be seen. I excused myself from the group I was with and retrieved my phone from my pocket. I pulled up the voicemail and listened. My bulge got even tighter in my pants.

We ordered an Uber for a ride home. My wife couldn’t keep her hands off my lap. The driver pretty much kept her eyes on the road, but a couple of times I could have sworn she was watching us in the mirror out of the corner of her eye. I sent my wife a message in the app to give me her panties. She viewed the message and then looked at the rearview mirror. Then, she tried to secretly inch her underwear past her hips, thighs, and knees. I think all three of us knew what she was doing though. She lifted each heel off the car floor and picked up the panties. I took them and put them in my shirt’s chest pocket.

The driver dropped us off at home, and we barely made it inside before my wife tried to rip my suit off me. I told her no and to stand still and lift her dress. While she stood motionless in the living room, I walked slowly to our bedroom to get the riding crop.

She saw what was in my hand when I came back in the room and she gasped quietly. I gently rubbed the straps against her ass and then flicked it against her skin. She winced.

I slapped it against her ass one cheek at a time. Back and forth from one to the other. I alternated from hard whips to light flicks and then back again. Then I pushed myself against her back, my bulge wedging into her asscrack.

“Now it’s your turn. Use this on me,” I whispered into her ear before nibbling her earlobe.

I walked to the bedroom and motioned for her to follow. I removed my jacket and shoes and socks and then held my arms up as a sign for her to undo my pants and remove them. She did. I laid down on the bed face first with my waist at the edge, my knees dangling just above the floor.

She copied my earlier use of the crop, first dragging the straps across my skin and then flicking me with it. She did not alternate between hard and soft hits, though. Her hits got harder and harder. After three or four, I wasn’t sure I would be able to handle more. She kept hitting harder anyway.

I let out a loud whimper. Harder hit. I buried my face in the pillow and cried out. She paused, ran her hand up between my legs, and grabbed the inside of my left thigh with her thumb rubbing the flesh she had just been beating.

“Is this what you wanted?” She asked.

I grunted out an “uh huh” with tears forming at the corners of my eyes.

She quickly let go of my leg and immediately lashed me again several more times like she was putting out a fire.

Then she said, “I think you want something else, too.”

To be continued…