"I hadn't thought about going that far, but let's see after this weekend. Oh, that would be amazing wouldn't it? Solves a problem."
Hector hesitated to ask, "What problem?"
"The twenty-four seven thing. I can ensure you have the required mindset at home, but there's always that chance that you regress when you're away from home and slip into your usual habits. Two steps forward at night and then one step back during the day. If Bea's in charge of you at work, we can cover all the bases. It would be properly twenty-four seven."
She grinned at him sexily. Hector knew how much the idea had turned her on. His life was about to get a whole lot stranger. There had always been that idea in the back of his mind that his slave status would have to be limited to his home life, that there'd always be that reprieve at work. The prospect of Bea keeping him under her thumb during office hours would grant him no respite. He'd have to commute between his house and his work, half an hour twice a day where he was allowed to just be Hector again. He hadn't imagined he'd have to endure this extra constraint, and he cursed himself for ever bringing it up. He'd hammered that nail into his coffin himself.
"Finally," Lotte announced, "I do need to give you to Bea for the weekend. Quite apart from the fact that I'd promised her and she's donated her entire weekend to training you, we talked it all over and agreed."
Another sly, sexy smile.
"She's looking forward to it, she told me. She wants to see what she can make you do. I'm so proud of her, she's really spreading her wings."
"But, wouldn't you like to train me yourself, instead? You don't need to turn me over to Bea."
His words sounded wheedling where he had wanted them to sound convincing, weak instead of reasonable. The prospect of the cute, petite woman he had always enjoyed spending time with now becoming his owner filled him with a twisted dread. He'd thought it through in the car all the way home from the office, teasing apart the bitter disappointment of getting passed over in favour of her, separating out the fact that Bea had joined in the humiliation of having him bent over the kitchen countertop and caned. Behind it all was a little hole that had appeared in his life, and it had cut him to the bone.
Lotte hadn't intended it, he was sure. Bea hadn't either, but the hole was there now. Bea stepping into the role of his boss at work and now his wife's delegate, his de-facto slave owner, had created a distance between them. Even when Lotte was being her most intransigent, he'd always go to Bea and be able to talk to her. He'd found over the years that he was able to confide in her, trust her even with discussing the rough parts of his marriage. In time, it had blossomed into something deeper, to the point that he felt like he could tell her anything.
That was the little secret, that he'd seen it in Bea's eyes too, that closeness. When Bea had hit rock bottom as her marriage to Brent fell apart, Bea had relied on Hector, looked up to him. He'd been there for her. More than that, on one particular night. Bea had looked up at him and her eyes had asked a question, her lips soft and waiting, and he'd refused because it was the right thing to do for all of them. He had kept Bea's lapse secret from his own wife because Bea hadn't been thinking clearly, and they had moved past it. They had proven they could keep each other's confidences.
That door was now locked, at the point where he needed it the most. He wanted to talk through what was happening to him, but the person he most wanted to confide in had been turned into his controller. Worse than that, all those little unforgiveable things he'd said to Bea about his wife's nature, he had to assume she'd shared with Lotte. He'd been confiding in her, but Bea and Lotte had been working together on him all this time. He'd been so stupid.
"She's agreed to train you for the weekend. We talked it through and it's the best approach in the early stages. You need someone who isn't me, but who I trust implicitly to keep up the training. Someone you don't expect to have any hold over."
"I don't seem to have any hold over you, that's for sure," Hector said, sounding more bitter than he intended.
He hesitated, aware of his tone, acutely conscious of his wife's ability to turn, her mood shifting like mercury. But, she didn't lock down the conversation and command him to silence like he half-expected.
"That's right, and that was the point of signing the contract. It's an acknowledgement that you have no hold over me, but, Heck, that's just it. You still believe you do. Even now, dangling the carrot of the weekend away, topping from the bottom. You need to learn where you now are. If you're as serious about this change as I am, you need to understand that it's not acceptable."
She shrugged and put her hand on the door handle. Hector realised that the conversation was ending.
"Bea isn't subject to the same pressures. She doesn't have to love you."
"Like you do?"
Lotte's hand paused on the door. She turned back to her husband slowly.
"What does that mean?" she asked. "I just told you I love you, Heck. Do you really think I'd be doing this if I didn't care deeply about us?"
"Then let's go away for the weekend, Lotte, just us. You don't have to give me to Bea."
His wife sighed heavily and then she opened the car door.
"You just proved my point, Heck. That's why I need Bea to take the reins for a while. We're never going to get anywhere at this rate. Come on, out."
Lotte got out of the car and closed the door behind her, leaving Hector in silence. He watched her walk up to Bea's front door, then turn to look at him, her hands on her hips, waiting. Clearly, her mind was made up. Reluctantly, Hector got out of the car and walked up to his wife. She gave him a little smile, but her expression was careworn.
"Think of it as a personal development course, darling. You've been on those before. This one is just a little more personalised," she told him and gave him a small kiss. "Are you ready? Or do you want to call everything off?"
She waited patiently while Hector reviewed his options. He'd lost the argument, but she had still given him the release clause. Either the contract was a prop, some silly thing to liven up their sex lives, or it was as real and binding as any other contract he'd ever signed. It didn't matter whether it was enforceable in law, all that mattered was that both parties chose to treat it as binding. Lotte was waiting for her answer. Hector cleared his throat, and despite himself, he felt a delicious thrill of vulnerability as he made the confession that bound him to her will.
"I'm ready, Mistress," he acknowledged.
Hector faced the door, his pulse racing.
"Now, I want you to knock on the door. When Bea opens it, I want you to be on your knees in your display position. You are going to thank her for agreeing to train you for the weekend. You will address her as Ma'am."
Hector cleared his throat.
"One more thing, when you thank her, you're going to mean it."
Her hand brushed down his spine. He felt her touch through the fabric of her overcoat, settling on the rounded curve of his bruised rear.
"You're doing so well. Now, time to put Hector in his box and bring out the slave. Let me know when he's all packed away, I'll give you a moment."
Just like that, with just a few words, with her hand on his rear, in full view of the street, his wife turned Hector from her husband into her toy. It only took a few seconds, but Hector could feel himself changing under her direction, the obstinacy leeching away as he admitted defeat to his wife's implacable requirements.
"Yes, Mistress," he murmured.
The transformation was complete. He knocked on the door and then went down on his knees on the doormat, not even checking to see whether he might have been observed from the street. He trusted that his owner had already checked, not wanting to alert the neighbours to the arrangements being made for the weekend, next door. He spread his knees wide, opening a gap in his coat to expose his naked thighs, and placed his hand on his knees, palm-up. He fixed his eyes on the mat beneath him and waited.
His wife waited next to him, towering over him now, as the seconds ticked by. He felt a stirring between his legs, a reaction to the way his wife had forced him to debase himself, waiting for Bea to come to the door. There was a scrape and then a click, and Hector's heart jumped. The door swung open.
Bea was standing there in her dark blue activewear leggings and a loose sweatshirt, in ballet flats, like it was just another casual night at home. Hector kept his head bowed, staring now at her feet and the curves of her toned calves in the tight, blue lycra. He could feel her eyes on him. He imagined her reaction, looking down on the man she had known and worked with for years, now prostrating himself obediently at her feet. After scolding her at lunch and then giving her the silent treatment for the rest of the day to punish her, here he was, kneeling pathetically in her doorway, completely in her power. His cock swelled beneath his coat, becoming rigid in seconds. His wife tapped the back of his head, prompting him. Hector licked his lips, his mouth dry.
"Thank you for agreeing to train me for the weekend, Ma'am."
His words were met with silence, and for some reason he found that the most humiliating thing of all: he had shown proper respect to the person who had whipped him and taken his promotion, but to the women standing over him it wasn't enough. He struggled to formulate more words. Lotte had warned him that he had to mean it.
"I apologise for what I said earlier. I'm sorry for treating you without respect. You didn't deserve that."
The silence continued. Hector began to panic, an irrational fear, but he felt the pressure of their expectations. His owner needed a demonstration of his subservience. He closed his eyes and visualised himself, with his mistress to one side of him and the woman who he would be trained by in front. How does a slave react? What would be a proper mark of respect?
"I want you to correct me, Ma'am. Your slave is here to obey."
