He was driving home from work with levels of excitement moving between fear and delight and in a constant state of horny. He and his wife of less than two years had recently started exploring the world of BDSM. They had read some stories, watched some videos and done some research on line. That lead them to some how-to and safety books and ways to meet others, though they had not ventured to that. They had learned they both fell into the male dominant/female submissive roles as they had discussed and she had an unexpected state of sexual arousal during and several days after a spanking and/or flogging.
Her desire to delve more into it surprised him. His own desire came out of the closet of fantasies he had been hiding since prepubescence. None of this accounted for his current excitement. For tonight was Friday, the first night, of the first weekend they would spend in their Dominant and submissive roles. If the fantasy came completely to life he would have his own personal submissive, or dare he say sex slave, until Sunday at five in the evening. The time they had discussed it stopping so they could step out of the roles, enjoy dinner, decompress and hopefully discuss things before they started the new work week.
He sat in his car a moment or two after parking, breathing deeply and really thinking... just how would a Dominant come into a household and take control of his submissive? Nothing honest came to mind and he figured he would wing it this time and learn from his mistakes. He was aware of his own personal excitement, entering the apartment lobby with his briefcase more in front of him than to his side. He kept it like this through the elevator ride and up to his apartment door. He breathed deeply, stifling the desire to do some kind of end zone dance about what his weekend was going to bring. Instead he took another deep breath, straightened his coat and tie and opened the door.
His wife was waiting for him. Kneeling, knees apart, hands behind her head, elbows back, thrusting her pretty close to 'C' cup breasts forward, her nipples and large areolas so swollen with excitement they almost looked like small pink breasts on their own. Her posture was tall and firm, her auburn hair in a tight French braid, she had more than the usual amount of make up and her mouth open, not wide, but obvious enough to know she availed it to him. He looked down to see the scantiest of black panties he had ever seen on her covering her womanhood, or really shading her womanhood as there was nothing that he could not see.
He smiled a that. His lingerie, and specifically panty fetish, on her mind. He froze, stared and took in the lovely sight. It was not until a door opened further down the hall and the neighbors were coming toward him that he remembered he was still in the hall. The wideness of her eyes revealed the same thing. She did not break pose but her face started to lose it's composure. He kept the neighbors in his peripheral. Their conversation grew closer and her arms started to shake. At once he said, "Good evening", glanced at his neighbors and stepped through the door, closing it quickly enough to protect her modesty but not so hard as it to seem slammed.
Her whole body went limp. He looked at her, and when their eyes met, he stared at her. He raised his outstretched palm up hand upward and she followed suit moving back into what they and decided would be her submissive 'ready' pose. The same she displayed when he opened the door. Her eyes darted down, noting the obvious excitement he was feeling. She was suddenly feeling the desire to feel his desire. She forced her eyes back to his. He wanted all input as to what she would do next. He walked closer, his feet between her thighs, one foot tapping the floor and pressing up into her lips. His bulge now square in her face, less than an inch away and she wanted it in her mouth. He stepped away and circled her, brushing her with one fingertip as he travelled. At this closer distance he could see the faint fading bruises from last weekend on her breasts and thighs. From behind he noted the single strap rising out of her ass crack. "Sweet, a thong", noted to himself. "Nice work on the French braid", he said aloud.
"Well you know....", she was interrupted by the sharp pain from her now pinched earlobe, "... owwww". The pain subsided near as quick as it had come. "Thank you, Sir."
One of the biggest submissive rules was that submissives did not speak without expressed permission, with the following exceptions:
"Yes, Sir.", "No, Sir", "Please, Sir." And "Thank you, Sir." And if the submissive felt she should be more formal, then "Sir" would also precede anything, even the approved sayings.
"Speak, girl." 'Girl' would be her submissive name until they had found something more personal.
She took a deep breath, thought things through and then spoke in a slow, clear voice, "Sir, when I was in college they always said that you knew it was going to be a good blow job when she had her hair tied back...... Sir."
"I heard that first in high school. Are you thinking you will be giving me oral sex?"
She debated on whether or not to reply. He had asked a question but not given her permission to answer. She kept things on the formal side. "Sir, I was hoping, Sir."
"And if I want to fuck you?"
"Sir, take me for your pleasure, Sir."
"I don't smell dinner. You were instructed to have dinner ready."
"Sir, I am more nervous and scared than I expected. I could not accomplish dinner, Sir. 'Italy's Best American' is open till midnight tonight, Sir. Satisfy your other hungers of my body and I will place the order for all your favorites to be ready when we arrive.... Sir."
He could see the apprehension on her face. He would have liked to have scolded her, Dominated her but just a few minutes ago in the car... he could not even think of what he wanted to do to her. His better self thought of this and he took her chin and lifted it to lock eyes. "Just this once, girl. Next time your ass will pay for your failure."
"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."
"Any other changes to MY plans I should know about?", his soft lift turning to a firm grip of her lower jaw. Eyes still locked. A tear forming in one of hers.
"Sir, Please.... make my ass pay. I fear I will be rattled like this until I pleasure you... and I suffer. Please, Sir." The tear escaped and rolled down her cheek stopping at his hand.
