Step 2 -- Making Him Beg
My plan was always to guide him step by step, every step of the way, thinking this was all what he really wanted. I read the various stories about slapping a man in a chastity belt, taking black mail pictures, and by the end of the evening whipping him until he breaks, leading to happily ever after. Maybe that has worked for some, but I wanted to be sure. I was willing to be patient and make him mine step by step, making him beg to become my slave, and eventually giving in and allowing him to serve me.
After our big weekend, I upped the pressure on him. I kept dressing as sexy as I thought I could get away with and did all the little things that I knew turned my husband on, but at night in our bedroom I was as distant as I could manage.
After ten days I let me have sex with me, with him on top, but I presented as limp and very underwhelmed. In truth it wasn't bad at all, and I had to fight to not have an orgasm, but I wanted the contrast as stark as possible between this lackluster sex and the fun we had had when he was my Toy.
I monitored his computer and phone usage as much as I could, and even managed another couple rounds of adjusting his porn a little bit and included some more femdom searches into his internet ecosystem.
It was a Thursday, over two and a half weeks after our weekend, and we were both reading in the living room when he nonchalantly asked about where I had put the collar.
"You mean your slave collar?"
"Yeah, I was thinking about it the other day and wondered."
"Like I said, if you want to be my sex toy again you will have to wait for me to order it around your neck, or you need to get down on your knees and beg. Being in charge is work and doing it meant something to me. I want to make sure you are serious before doing it again."
Silence fell and we both went back to reading. Well, maybe he was reading, I was so excited I could hardly breathe. After a few minutes he got up and left the room. I was crushed. I thought that was the moment, and I was wrong. I struggled to read for another ten minutes or so, but it was no use, so I got up to go and get ready for bed.
There he was, naked and kneeling at the foot of the bed, waiting for me. I walked up to him, standing over him, deliberately crowding him. "Yes?"
"Jessica, could we please have another weekend, like we did? I loved being your sex toy. Please?"
I stepped even closer to him and looked up, seemingly thinking it over. I wanted to hide the joyous smile that filled my face. I couldn't stop smiling for several minutes and had to clench my jaws to stop the burst of happy laughter that wanted out. Once I figured I could control my voice I stepped away from him.
"I have been thinking about it. I might be a bit rougher with my toy this time, since I know you like it. Are you sure you want to?"
"Yes please."
"Kiss my feet and beg to be my slave and I will consider it."
"Please let me be your slave, please."
Suddenly my husband was kneeling, naked, and kissing my shoes, begging to be my sex toy this very weekend. If a year ago you had said a scene like that was one of the happiest of my life, I would have known you were insane.
"I expect you to be naked and kneeling when I come home tomorrow. No excuses."
He had forgotten there was a retirement party at his work tomorrow, even though he had read the email invitation, and if I moved a couple meetings around, I could easily get home before him. The weekend was going to start out badly for him.
I was turned on all Friday and was so distracted that two different coworkers asked me if everything was OK. I got home even earlier than I thought I would, well before he normally made it home. I was able to monitor his progress home because of the app I had installed on his phone, and I masturbated with a vibrator thinking about the upcoming weekend. He made it home only a few minutes late, he must have stopped by the retirement party very briefly. I was a bit impressed but determined not to let him know that.
"No excuses," I said as he hurried into the bedroom, already starting to shed his clothes. "This weekend is cancelled."
"Please honey, I am so sorry, John had a retirement ..." my glare stopping him mid-apology. "What can I do?"
"Get over here, put yourself over my lap, and after I have spanked you for letting us both down, I might consider letting you be my Toy. I can't have a Toy who misbehaves, who doesn't do what he promises."
He was frozen in place, half dressed. I could plainly see emotions colliding in his brain and he struggled with the decision.
"I was worried you were not serious. Oh well." And as I started to stand up, he suddenly came alive.
"No, wait, OK." And he practically threw himself at me.
As he settled awkwardly into my lap, still only half-naked, I yanked down his pants and underwear and "accidentally" brushed against his penis, which stiffened nicely. I did my best to put his penis in between my thighs before the spanking.
I wanted this to be painful for him, he needed to learn an important lesson, but if I could make it a bit sexual also, linking my spanking and authority over him with sex as much as possible it would make his transition into my slave much easier.
That first spanking taught us both lessons. I know it hurt him, but not nearly as much as I wanted it to, and it hurt me as well. It turns out spanking can be more difficult and painful for the spanker than I knew, especially when spanking a grown man for the first time. I decided partway through that next time I would use a hairbrush or something.
Still, despite the pain I made it through, and by the end his ass was a nice bright red and his eyes were a bit watery. I was hoping for tears, but not this time.
After the spanking I had him stand up with his hands at his sides, while I examined him.
"If you apologize for making me do that, and thank me for it, we can put this behind us and still have a fun weekend."
"I am sorry for being late honey and ... uh ... thank you for spanking me and giving me a second chance."
I gave him a genuine smile, full of love and happiness. This smile I let him see.