Chapter 10: Bras and Submission

The next day, as I got ready to get dressed for work, I went to the bed to see what panties Janice had picked out for me.

I always loved this moment. What would it be today? What devilishly feminine panties would I be asked to wear? I thrilled at the anticipation.

But nothing fancy this time. Simple panty briefs, pink nylon with some lace around the edges and a nice embroidery design.

As I picked up the panties, a white card fluttered to the ground. I picked it up and inspected it. It was a copy of my oath. Not the punishment oath (the one on the front of the punishment thong), but the original oath which allowed Janice to choose my underwear for every day for the rest of my natural life.

I put the panties on and walked to her closet.

"Janice?" I asked. Janice was sitting in front of her dressing table. She was wearing just underwear: bra, panties, and a silk camisole which came down to just above her navel -- all cream colored.

"Yes?" she asked, finishing up her makeup.

"What is this?" I held up the card.

Janice turned to looked and smiled. "Oh that?" she asked, turning back to her makeup mirror. "That's just a little reminder of your oath, so you don't forget."

"Believe me," I said, rolling my eyes. "I could never forget."

"Well, now it's in writing. All official, like." Janice picked up a pen and handed it to me. "And I would be ever so grateful if you would sign it?"

"Sign it? Don't you trust me?"

"Well I did," she reasoned, "until you broke the oath last month. Remember?"

My balls ached reflexively as I remembered my punishment. "Yes, I remember," I said, defeated.

"So sign! And be sure to use your full name, with your middle name, too."

I took the pen. First I put the card on the closet door and tried to sign, but the pen wouldn't work in that position. So, eventually, I had to put the card on the hardwood floor and sign it while kneeling. After a couple of shakes, the pen started working and I could sign my name: "Paul Arthur Johnson"

Janice put away her makeup tools and turned her chair around to face me. "Thank you, Paul!" she said, kindly. "Now, please come here and kneel before me."

I looked. There were two pillows on the floor in front of her. Obviously, this had been planned. I shuffled over and knelt before her, my knees on the soft pillows.

This was new. I had never knelt before her in such an obviously submissive position. My penis was now fully erect, trapped in the pink panties. I took a second to adjust it.

"This is what I want you to do every morning, until I think you've fully learned your lesson," Janice pointed to the card. "Come into my closet as I'm getting ready for the day, kneel before me, and read your oath from the card."

I looked up into her eyes. From this angle, she was towering over me -- my wonderfully dominant spouse.

A flicker of worry crossed my mind. This seemed a bit too dominant. Had something gone wrong with the mind-control programming? Was Janice somehow becoming even more dominant?

I shook the thought out of my mind. Probably it was just the lingering effect of the last command.

"Well?" Janice asked.

I picked up the card and read it:

"I, Paul Johnson, do solemnly swear to wear, without complaint, any and all underwear that Lady Janice asks me to wear, no matter how strange, uncomfortable, pretty, or girly it may be, for the rest of my life until death, no matter what changes may come including separation, divorce, or remarriage and I further agree that Janice may transfer these rights over me to any other person she chooses, at any time and for any reason whatsoever."

"You didn't finish reading it," Janice pointed out.

I looked. She was right, of course.

"Signed, Paul Arthur Johnson."

"Now, hand me the card," I handed it over to her. "I'll be sure to put this someplace safe. You'll get a new card tomorrow. I had a print shop run off a dozen copies, or so."

I blushed furiously. Some printer, somewhere, had seen the oath and had printed it for her? The thought that some stranger knew of my oath -- and was probably laughing about it with his colleagues -- made me woozy with shame.

"I know what you're thinking," Janice said. "And I'll tell you. I took it to the shop right around the block from your office. You know the one that you always use? And the one that everyone in your office always uses?"

I hung my head as my cheeks flushed bright red. I would never be able to use that printer again, not ever.

Janice spread her legs slightly. Against my will, my eyes were drawn to the panty panel between her legs.

"Like what you see?" she asked, coyly.

"Of course," I said. If possible, my penis got even harder in it's silky pink nylon prison.

"Come here, sweetheart," Janice gently pulled me between her legs, and placed my nose and lips directly on the gusset of her panties. She spread her legs wider so there was plenty of room.

"Now, breath through your nose, and as you smell me I want you to become addicted to my scent -- as if you weren't already," she giggled. "And now I'd like to ask you a few questions."

Janice gently pulled me into her crotch. My nose and lips brushed across the slippery nylon of her panties, giving me shivers. As I breathed in through my nose - the sent of her sex was very strong - I discovered that Janice was already quite excited by our little scene.

Impulsively, I gave her pubic mound a little kiss, and was rewarded with a little sigh from Janice. I was absolutely rock hard, nothing in my life had ever been as thrilling as being in such a submissive position before my wife, and submitting to her interrogation.

Janice began to gently stroke my hair. As she did, she would occasionally pull my head in harder into her crotch, causing my face to be pushed directly against her sex.

"In your oath, what do you think was meant by 'any and all underwear'?" Janice asked.

As I responded, my lips brushed against her sex, tickling her lightly. "Well, I guess I thought that it meant 'any and all types of panties, ' that you might want for me to wear."

Due to my position, the words that I spoke were directed towards her sex, as if I was carrying on the conversation directly with her pussy instead of Janice herself. The symbolism couldn't be any more clear: I was worshipping her sex and treating it like an independent (and superior) being.

"Why just panties?" Janice asked.

This threw me a bit. "I guess..." I stammered, "uh ... I guess that's all I thought you meant by underwear."

"And why would that be?" Moving her hips, Janice began to rub her crotch up and down over my face. A small wet spot formed as her juices began to seep through. The inner cotton lining must be soaked, I realized.

"Why?" I wondered, out loud, my lips brushing across her pubic mound. "Well, you never dressed me up in anything else, so I just figured..."

Janice cut me off. "But a woman's bra is underwear, wouldn't you agree?"

I took a quick breath of surprise. "Yes..." I tentatively agreed.

Janice's sexual odor had become very strong and musky -- I was nearly swooning and my penis was just as hard as it could be.

"Then say so," she encouraged, "tell me how you agree."

I took a second to form the right words. "I agree..." I started out, "that 'underwear' means women's bras as well as panties."

Janice smiled broadly, triumphant. She hopped out of her chair and pulled me to my feet.

"Excellent!" she said, gleefully. "Then you'll have no reason to complain if I ask you to wear a matching bra for your panties."

Janice showed me a matching, lacy pink bra. The delicate embroidery design on the bra matched the panties.

I hung my head, "I guess not."

"You guess not?" she asked, mockingly. "Is that all of the excitement you can muster?"

"Ummm..." I had no idea what to say.

"Let's put it on and see if we can generate a little more enthusiasm," Janice held up the bra by the shoulder straps. "Come here," she said, as if I were a reluctant little puppy. "Come slip your arms into your new bra ... come to Mama."

With a sigh I relented, threading first one, and then the other arm into the bra straps. Janice walked behind me, pulled the bra tight around my chest and fastened the hooks together.

Janice pulled me into a hug from behind. This left my front free for her fingers which began to gently stroke and tweak my nipples through the bra.

"Now, doesn't that just feel delicious?" she asked, her lips whispering the words right into to my ear and right into my soul. "Don't you think you should thank your Lady Janice for being so nice to put this bra on you? Hmmmm?"

"Uhn ... Yes." I moaned in pleasure, "thank you."

"Thank you ... who?"

"Uh ... Thank you, Lady Janice."

"Hmmmmm ... that's so nice and respectful. What a nice, respectful husband I have. You want to be nice and respectful, don't you?"

Janice reached down with her right hand and began to stroke my hard penis through the nylon of my pretty pink panties. Meanwhile, her other hand continued its assault on my nipples, trapped as they were through the bra.

"Yes," I responded. "I want to be your nice respectful husband."

"That's right," she whispered in my ear. She was now using her fingernails to stroke the length of my shaft, causing me to gasp with pleasure.

"And do you know what else nice and respectful husbands do?" Janice asked. "They obey their wives. Don't they? Nice and respectful husbands obey their wives without question or complaint. Don't you want to be nice and respectful?"