Chapter 1

If this was a motion picture, the title sequence would tell you ‘Based on a true story’. But a book is not a movie. The book is better.

Books offer the unique opportunity to translate words into your own images. On your own screen, the width depending on your imagination. The same words will show completely different images for each reader. Your mental image of a 63-year-old man may vary depending on your age, but it likely matches the image I had of my grandparents. They say - whoever they are - that the sixties of today are the forties of the past. That’s complete and utter nonsense. Yet, looking at a recent selfie of my wife and myself, I don’t see any signs of a greying man with a beer belly. Yet. If you think the last time I had sex was 20 years ago ... I’m pleased to report to you it was just two days ago. We are an ESAC, an Extremely Sexually Active Couple. Our sexual chemistry matches the strength of our connection as a couple.

During our marriage ceremony, my wife opted to make a traditional vow of obedience. Her example as the middle child of a military family consisted solely of her mother’s unwavering obedience and admiration towards her father. Her siblings, Sybil and Petra, turned out quite the opposite of her, rebellious and quite outspoken. Not quiet little Sylvia. While the girls were going through their teenage years, their father William frequently expressed frustration over how little they resembled their middle sibling.

So obedience was in her genes. And I would lie if I said that I didn’t relish her submissiveness. For a lifetime, some people eagerly await the day when they will stumble upon their soulmate, the one who will complete them. The joy of finding your soulmate is like discovering a mirror to your soul—a deep, fulfilling connection that brings peace and excitement. It feels like home, where you’re truly understood and cherished. Life becomes richer as you share dreams, laughter, and challenges. Together, you grow, creating a bond that feels timeless and effortless.

Few people unfortunately find their twin flame. They have to settle for something middle of the road. Not me. It was surprisingly easy for me to find my soulmate without putting in much effort on my part. Our connection was immediate when we met at school, and we’ve been inseparable ever since, like two magnetic fields aching to connect with the opposite pole. Like most of our friends, we explored a variety of sexual experiences and fetishes. After college I found work as an engineer and was quite good at it. Sylvia was a part time teacher. We bought a house. I did a shitload of work on it and sold it again with a nice profit. So we were able to buy our dream house. A farmhouse in the rural part of the Netherlands. Two boys, a home, wife and hound. A middle-class dream come true. After I gained some experience in a big firm, I started my own business. Life was good.

Having children stopped our sexual antics a bit. When you are too tired to watch television, sex is the last thing on your wish list. All of us experienced growing up, not just the boys. The kink element disappeared slowly, but surely as well. Such is life. My parents died shortly after our wedding. A law enforcement officer informed us it is highly probable that my father was under the influence of alcohol and caused a tragic accident on the highway. Neither of them survived the flames that destroyed the car with my parents in it. Sylvia’s dad was often away on some “peace-keeping-mission” in some remote country, where the UN was supposed to provide law and order. Doting on her grandchildren, my mother-in-law was a regular visitor to our house. Peter, our eldest child, has a degree in engineering, following in his father’s footsteps. His brother, Sandor, had enlisted in the Royal Navy and had just departed on a half-year expedition around the world.

“Are you happy?” Sylvia asked me from out of nowhere. We were walking in the park and enjoyed the late summer warmth. Without thinking, I reflexively tightened my grip on her hand and responded without thinking.

“Of course I’m happy, aren’t you?” As an old married couple, we often performed this ritual of words, finding solace in its reassuring nature.

“No”, she said bluntly but didn’t elaborate further. Hoping she was kidding, I waited in vain for her to tell me.

I playfully inquired, “Do you feel like ending our sacred union?” I realised she would sense the hidden anxiety in my voice.

“No, of course not. Why would you think that?” she said vehemently. I shrugged. What was I to think about that?

“We both have been through many changes these last years, Koen. You selling the business, plans about reshaping the farm to be self-sustainable. The reorganisation at my school is forcing me to work at a different location, resulting in a much longer commute. I have no interest in following the same routine as our friends, who mindlessly chatter, spend evenings in front of the TV, indulge their grandchildren, and eventually meet their end. I want to feel alive again!” We sat down on a bench in the park. Two old people waiting for something to happen.

“Koen, I want our sex life to become the main attraction in our lives once more.” We have been together for so long that half a word was enough for us. This was a big step for her. It was checking if we were still on the same page, sexually spoken? So many things had happened since we experimented with kink. I used to derive great satisfaction from being in control, but I could sense her scepticism about my ongoing desire for that role.

“I did not know you still craved that,” I admitted, and couldn’t hide a hint of disbelief in my voice. “It was a long time ago and we only ‘played’ for six months.” I said.

“Eight months and twelve days”, Sylvia corrected. Precision was her guiding principle, shaping her approach to every task. “I don’t want to look back. I want to move forward. Let’s face it. You are 63 and I’m 62. We are still healthy and fit now. It’s impossible to predict what the future holds in a few years. Now is the time for us to embrace life and take advantage of every chance that comes our way. What would have happened if we didn’t stop playing? What would my life be like now? Lately, I frequently ask myself this question. Last year I started yoga lessons for one reason only, that I could gracefully kneel for you again. I have been practising relentlessly when you are not around, and I think can do them as well as I did back then. Our kinky months together were incredibly intense. I’m eager to bring it all back. I want it all Koen, and I want it now.”

“Life is not a Queen song, Sylvia.”

“Babe, for nearly four decades, you’ve made me feel like a queen, and I’ve loved every moment. I hope you’ll continue to do so, but you have to realise I’m deep down a slut as well. Your slut. Our children even have picked up the habit of calling me ‘good girl’ from hearing you say it so often. But I’m not just a good girl, you know I’m a bad girl as well. I need to find out now before it’s too late just how bad I can be for you.” My Sylvia was on a roll. She bent forward, giving me a good look at her small bare breasts I loved so much. My girl has the best tits in the world. Small enough to skip a bra, big enough to hold in my hand. With nipples that only need the mere thought of a little wind or cold to make them hard. But I kept quiet. When Syl is ranting, you don’t want to interrupt.

“I want to us to play outside the bedroom, Koen. Give me that 24/7 action. Please be as strict with me as you can be, pushing me to my limits and not letting me settle for anything less ... I want us to plan one year in our lives where I mono focus on pleasing you. It has always been about me in our marriage. I always came first. It is my firm belief that I hold the title for being the most pampered woman in the entire country. It’s time to reverse the roles. I NEED the power exchange. I need you to be my primary focus. And no, maybe not forever. But I’d never forgive myself if knowing that I just took and took and took and never attempted to give back.”

Taking a large breath, she appeared exceptionally fragile. In a hushed tone she went on, “And right now I’m fucking scared that you’ll refuse. Please tell me you want it as well.”

“You don’t owe me anything Sylvia, if I have been treating you well, it’s just something a man should do. You are my wife, for crying out loud. Besides, I think the sex is pretty good, considering...” I said. I felt like I needed to defend myself.

“Don’t be coy with me mister, we are not talking about sex, we are talking about total power exchange. Please show me the respect I deserve by acknowledging your understanding of the distinction. If you don’t want to be my friend, my soulmate, my master, my lover, just say so.” A hidden threat was present. Recently, friends of us divorced after 40 years of marriage.

“It’s not that easy.”

She smiled. “Yes, it is. All our male friends would jump at the chance I’m offering you.”

“Perhaps.” There had been rumours in the past. In a predominantly male environment, where she is one of few women, I realise that there will always be people who thrive on spreading gossip, especially about someone like her who is so beautiful. They say Sylvia was in Amsterdam with a colleague, but I knew she was at a teacher conference in Belgium. People love to gossip and destroy everything pure and beautiful. But there is also such a thing as trust. And I trusted Sylvia more than myself.