The next couple of days I felt a change in him. He was so excited, full of energy. He was looking at me with the eyes of first-time love, and with adoration: he, too, was seeing the power of the goddess rising in me. One day he got up early, made me breakfast and brought it to bed. Another day he gave me a long, full-body massage after I came back from work. Another day he bathed me, dressed me up while kissing me all over in adoration and then made my hair. Meanwhile, I was teasing him, enjoying constant sex and increasing this ecstatic feeling of power. By the end of our one-month trial, all of this had become routine; and we didn't even realize the month had ended until a whole week had passed, and there was no need to discuss the results: this dynamic was here to stay.
All this time, I hadn't released him once. No need to. He seemed to enjoy himself, and he had always been low maintenance: he was fully capable of chastity. After three or four months had passed, he was doing all the chores, cooking all the meals, and had become my personal server on all matters: he bathed me, dressed me, make-up, self-care, you name it; massages on demand, oral sex on demand, sex on demand. And he did it like he was born for it; and every time I kissed him, touched him, teased him, his adoration only increased.
But the most important thing of all was nothing that was done, but what was changing on an unconscious level. This power I mentioned. It had a life of its own. The more this dynamic went on, the more powerful I felt and the more subjugated he felt. It was not under our control, and therefore felt kinda scary. Sometimes, without noticing it, I would make a very dominant natural gesture; I would sometime speak in a terrifying tone when something made me angry, sort of in the way lords must have spoken to their slaves in ancient times. And on the other side, it started to feel like he was no longer capable of opposing me. One mean look and he would lower his head, perturbed; one touch and he was grateful beyond belief. It was as if all of this had been some sort of a religious ritual, through which an ancient goddess had been invoked to take charge of my body, and my husband was now Hers. I felt like I was two people at the same time: myself, a little woman from downtown, and an immortal Goddess. And my husband felt like two people too: himself, the man I loved and wanted to share my life with, and the Goddess' slave, meant to serve Her for eternity and beyond the grave.
I've mentioned the word "slave" a few times now, but I must mention that that was never the idea. Chastity was proposed; slavery came to be spontaneously over time. After about six months, we both knew what had happened, but didn't speak it; we didn't know how. One day we were on the sofa, watching TV; he was sitting and I was laying with my legs over him, and he was giving me a foot massage. I was feeling so good that I felt grateful, so I rose up, sat myself on his legs, kissed him on the cheek with affection and said: "you're my little slave". I could see in his eyes that he liked it. No further words were spoken.
One day we were having lunch with a lady friend of mine. She had noticed that we seemed much more lively, much closer, much better. Reluctantly at first, enthusiastically later, we began explaining our little idea, and how intense our lives had become. Then, spontaneously, joyfully, I exclaimed, while smiling and hugging him: "he's basically my sex slave now". He turned a little red, but smiled. My friend laughed a bit.
That very night I sat down with him on our marriage bed. Those words had been weighing on me, and I needed to finally put the cards on the table. "Oh, love", I said with love, sadness and desire; "remember what I said at lunch, how you had basically become my sex slave?". He nodded. "Well, the truth is, I don't feel that's entirely correct. You have not become my sex slave; you have become my slave, period." He looked at me anxiously, not knowing what was going to follow. I wasn't sure either. "You know, it's been like this for months now. I know you feel it too. Something has taken over. You're still my husband, and I love you; and I am still me, your wife, and I know you love me too. But I've also become your Goddess, and you're also now my slave. No sense denying it. It is scary, and it feels weird. But I can say this: I love it, and I want it to continue". I paused for a moment. Then it came to me. "This has become a reality, a reality we've not recognized. It's like when couples end up living together without ever officially stating so, just by being constantly under the same roof and bringing their stuff for convenience. Sooner or later, they need to accept the new reality. We need too. Things need to change".
I hugged and kissed him. We embraced for a while, and I could feel the love we had for each other. I didn't want to forget it. Then I whispered in his ear: "On your knees, slave". He obeyed, slowly coming to the ground. I rose up and stood before him. I looked him in the eye, and I could see an electric sense of fear coming down his spine. He lowered his head in surrender. Things were going to change, indeed.
