Chapter 2

Greta takes Chris deeper into submission

I awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon and freshly brewed coffee.

Is Chris cooking?

I looked over at the bedside clock; I had slept until just a little past noon. Slowly, as I began to wake up in earnest, the previous evening’s activities flooded into my mind.

The restraints, my dominatrix outfit, our extreme face-sitting session, and Chris licking his semen from my pussy. Looking back, the events of the previous evening seemed almost surreal, and I struggled to make sense of them.

I rose from the bed and went into the bathroom. Once I had finished, I put on a pair of white cotton panties, a sports bra, shorts, and a t-shirt. While I dressed, I examined my body in the mirror, and my heart sank.

I was at least thirty-five pounds overweight, and I detested the cellulite that had collected around my midsection and on my thighs. I couldn’t remember the last time I worked out, and for the most part, I ate whatever I wanted. Unfortunately, my lifestyle choices were very evident.

I felt so empowered and in control last night when I dominated Chris. That was a stark juxtaposition to how I felt while standing in front of our bathroom mirror. A wretchedness washed over me. I felt powerless, helpless, and adrift. I was seconds from tears, but I quickly fought them back. I made a solemn vow to myself to break this cycle, starting today.

I walked out of the bedroom into the kitchen and was greeted with a bright smile.

“I was just about ready to come in and wake you, Ma’am.”

I smiled.

“I told you that you don’t have to call me that unless we are in a scene.”

“I know, but I couldn’t resist. I woke up feeling wonderful.”

I sat down at the table, and he brought me a large plate of scrambled eggs with just a little bit of fresh dill because he knew I liked them. There were also a few strips of bacon along with a toasted bagel. To complete the meal, he served me a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

“This is just wonderful,” I said while looking down at my plate of food. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting this.”

“I wanted to do something special for you and show my appreciation for last night.”

His attitude was a bit of a shock to me. I had been very demanding of Chris the previous evening, and it wouldn’t have surprised me to learn that he wanted to back out of this entire thing. However, that obviously wasn’t the case.

“So you’re still okay with everything we did?”

“I told you last night, Greta, it was the best night of my life, and I can’t wait for us to do it again ... when you’re ready, of course.”

I smiled.

He was so respectful and loving. I could get used to this.

We shared a few moments of comfortable silence until Chris began speaking.

“I’m hesitant to even bring this up, but could we talk about something?”

Our eyes met.

“We have to always be able to talk about anything, Chris. That’s critical in this type of relationship.”

He took a deep breath.

“I know you are in charge now, but I’d like you to at least consider this at some point ... maybe in the future.”

He paused as if trying to find the right words.

“It’s okay, Chris, just come out with it.”

He took another deep breath.

“I’d like you to consider cuckolding me.”

Cuckolding? He wants me to be with another man?

It took me a full minute to consider and weigh some of the possibilities and their ramifications. I couldn’t help but feel that this suggestion was a byproduct of last night. It was as if he wanted to try everything he’d ever seen or read about online. I had to admit, when I felt the rush of power as I dominated him, the idea of opening our marriage and being with other men had crossed my mind.

“I’m open to the idea, Chris. However, we need to take things slow. There are so many things that I want us to experience together, and we need to build a solid foundation as a couple while we explore this lifestyle before we bring others into it. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He smiled.

“Maybe I am getting caught up in last night, but I’m happy that you are open to considering it.”

We sipped our coffee for a few moments, and I enjoyed the very comfortable silence. The best aspect of our newly established BDSM marriage was the open and honest dialogue we were having. Unlike in the past, Chris wasn’t sneaking around behind my back on the internet. We were communicating and learning new and exciting things about each other. I couldn’t help but feel like we were really growing as a couple.

It was somewhat unsettling that Chris seemed to be open to trying almost anything, and I figured at least one of us needed to keep a level head. I knew that this was a huge transition for him, and I didn’t want to push him too hard or too quickly. I reasoned that reading about other people’s BDSM adventures online was much different than actually experiencing them firsthand, and I had to remain cognizant of that fact.

There was one more thing that we needed to discuss, though.

“We’ve made a lot of changes in the past twenty-four hours, Chris, but there’s one more change I need to make for myself, and I want to discuss it with you.”

He looked at me expectantly and waited for me to continue.

I took a deep breath.

“I’m not happy with my weight, but I finally feel like this is a good time to do something about it.”

He gave me a look of concern.

“Babe, I love you so much, just the way you are. You know I don’t care about the weight. The only thing I care about is you being happy. So, if this is something you want, you need to make this change for yourself. Just know you have my full support.”

I smiled.

“So what you’re really saying is, you’d be okay with having a hot wife?”

We both giggled.

“What I’m saying is: I love you regardless, and if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

He reached across the table, took my hand, and gently squeezed. It was such a wonderful morning, and it was as if I could actually feel our marriage getting stronger.

The next month was like going through a living hell, not at home, but at work.

I manage a small division in the IT department of a large Las Vegas strip casino, and my best friend Liz is a VIP personal trainer to some of our more exclusive guests. On numerous occasions since we met, she had invited me to work out with her, but I had always declined her invitation. Until now, I just never felt inspired enough to accept her offer. However, now that I was taking control of my marriage with Chris, it just felt like the right time to take control of my weight and start getting healthy.

Liz giggled with almost uncontrollable glee when I asked if her offer of helping me get into shape was still on the table. She was a world-class swimmer who had actually participated in two Olympic Trials before injuring her shoulder, which prematurely ended her swimming career.

“Of course, I’d love to help you. I’ve been hoping you might change your mind about working out with me for a year now,” Liz said excitedly.

“Just take it easy on me for the first couple of weeks, okay? I haven’t seen the inside of the gym in about five years.”

Her face broke into a big smile.

“I’ll take it under advisement, but this has to be more than just you committing to working out. It’s a complete lifestyle transformation. Are you willing to change the way you eat, too?”

I took a deep breath.

“I’d just like to be healthy and fit. And if you could pull off a miracle, I’d love for my body to look more like yours.”

I’m not sure if there is such a thing as the perfect female body. Nonetheless, if there was, my vote would go to Liz. She was tall, just a bit taller than me at 5’9”. Shockingly, it was as if her muscles had muscles, but not in an overdone female bodybuilder-type way. She had six-pack abs and long, lean, muscular arms and legs. Her body was toned, and she was incredibly fit and beautiful.

She continued speaking, which brought me back to the present.

“It’s difficult to say this without coming across as conceited, so bear with me. At this point, my body is my life. It’s how I make my living. When people are paying me to help them work out and improve their bodies, that advice has to be coming from someone who looks like they know what they’re talking about. Otherwise, I’d have no credibility.”

Just listening to her was inspiring. I wanted the best to help me reach my fitness goals, and it was very obvious that she was the one who would help me achieve that.

“I guess my point is,” she continued, “that I live this, it’s not just something I do, but it’s who I am. I can help you get the body you want, but you’d have to be dedicated to this like I am. Are you willing to do that?”

I took a deep breath.

“I’m willing. Just promise not to kill me, okay?”

She smiled.

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

I wasn’t sure if there was a hell. However, I was convinced that if there was, it would be akin to working out with Liz. In addition to assisting her clients throughout the day, she worked out twice a day for herself. In the morning, we used free weights as well as weight machines. Once we completed our work day, our exercise routine consisted of cardio, yoga, or Pilates, then stretching.

Even though working out with Liz was incredibly strenuous, our arduous weekday routine actually fit into my strategy when it came to dominating Chris. I was spending more time at work, and that gave Chris more time to take over most of the household duties.

In keeping with my plan, I was taking things relatively slow. We were making love about four or five times a week, and I was incorporating some light BDSM into our sex play. He loved being restrained and when I sat on his face for long periods of time. For the most part, I put very few demands on Chris inside the bedroom, and the majority of the changes I made were in the form of household duties.

In the past, we had divided up the household chores equally. However, we both agreed that as the submissive, keeping the house clean should now be his responsibility. He also agreed to cook our evening meal and clean up afterward. Because Chris was a full-time student, he had quite a bit of extra time anyway.

Chris was working towards his master’s degree, and he was also a teacher’s assistant to one of his favorite professors. Even though he was doing all of the housework, I always ensured he had time to study for his classes as well as complete the tasks for the professor he was assisting.

One problem did arise, though. I was quickly learning that I needed a better method of correcting some of Chris’s errant behavior. He had a weekly list of chores, and there were times when he didn’t complete them to my satisfaction. In the first week, he even neglected to clean the guest bathroom. To be honest, I was almost certain he was intentionally misbehaving in order to be chastised and punished. He loved it when I scolded him like a wayward child and then sat on his face for a couple of hours so he could ‘atone’ for his transgressions. However, sitting on his face for hours was more of a reward than a punishment. I would have to give this some thought and devise a more effective plan to correct some of Chris’s behavior.

“What’s wrong, Greta? Don’t you feel great after that workout?”

Liz and I were sipping our fresh fruit smoothies after our morning workout in the breakroom.

“I’m just a little frustrated,” I admitted.

“Frustrated about what?”

“It’s been a month since we began working out, and I’ve only lost five pounds.”

She gave me an encouraging smile.

“You’ve put on at least five pounds of pure muscle mass and lost how many inches around your torso, arms, and legs?”

I looked down.

“I guess that’s true.”

“You know that’s true,” she said sternly. “Let me show you something.”

She pulled out her cell phone, pressed a couple of buttons, and then held it up to my face.

“Do you remember this?”

I studied the picture on the screen. Before we began our first workout, Liz made me get into a bikini and took a picture with her cell phone. The changes I noticed weren’t dramatic, but they were quite evident. Compared to the picture, my arms and legs were a bit more toned, I was less pudgy around the middle, and there were even slight hints of muscle definition.

She smiled when she noticed the tears in my eyes.

“You can tell a difference, can’t you?”

“Yes, I can,” I said simply while attempting to get my emotions in check.

“Good, because I see the changes too. Compared to a month ago, you’re stronger, agiler, and you have more stamina.”

I wiped a couple of tears from my cheeks as she continued speaking.

“It took five years to get your body into the shape it was in before we started working out together. Just remember, this type of change doesn’t ever happen quickly, but it will happen.”

We exchanged big smiles.

“Thank you for everything,” I said softly.

“You can repay me by telling me the real reason you finally decided to work out with me and get into shape.”

“In time, I will, I promise.”

I’d been teasing Chris all week during our lovemaking sessions that I was going to ‘step it up’ this Friday night. It was so much fun to taunt him with the unknown and let his imagination run wild.

After what seemed like an eternity, Friday night had finally arrived. Chris had just finished cleaning the kitchen after our evening meal. He brought two glasses of wine and took a seat beside me. We had agreed a few weeks earlier that I should be sitting at the head of the table since I was now the head of our family. At any rate, it only seemed fitting. We were using Chris’s stipend as a teaching assistant to pay for the credits he was taking, which meant that my salary supported both of us.

“If I may ask, what do you have planned for us tonight, Ma’am?

The look in his eyes. The anticipation. He was giddy, like a child. I couldn’t help but smile.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

We both sipped our wine until he broke the silence.

“You’ve been going easy on me for a while now.”

I gave him a stern look.

“Does it bother you that I have?”

He thought for a moment.

“May I speak freely?”

This sounds serious.

“Of course you can, Chris.”

He looked at me hesitantly.

“I was afraid that ... that you might have become bored with this already.”

I smiled, and our eyes met.

“I can assure you that’s not the case. I wanted to give you time to adjust to this, and honestly, I thought if I went too hard on you too fast, you’d want to back out.”

He took my hand and gently squeezed.

“I swear to you, Greta, I’m living my dream.”

A tear was forming in his eyes. My God, he’s getting so emotional!

“We’re still learning to trust each other when it comes to this lifestyle, aren’t we?”

“I guess we are,” he conceded.

We took another sip of our wine, which drained the glass.

“Things are going to get rough tonight. Just remember your safe words, okay?”

His hands began trembling.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Pour me another glass of wine, then go to the master bathroom, strip down, put on your blindfold, and wait for me.”

I witnessed the bewildered look in his eyes, but he also knew better than to question me.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

A minute later, he had refilled my wine glass, and I watched as he disappeared into the master bedroom.

I sipped my wine while trying to settle myself down. I was nervous, just like the first night when we began experimenting a month ago. We’d be breaking new ground tonight, and that was unsettling for me. However, there was also a calm, and I felt at peace. Chris and I were both in our proper roles: I was the Dominant, and he was the submissive. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something serene and tranquil about that.

While finishing my last sip of wine, I couldn’t help but reflect on Chris’ nature. He was a natural submissive. A more experienced Dominant would have noticed it immediately, but I was oblivious to this lifestyle and that part of his sexuality when we met. While doing my research, I also came to the conclusion that taking control of him, both inside of the bedroom and out, made me acutely aware of my own sexuality and the need to exert my power over him.

I took a deep breath. Showtime.

I walked into our guest bedroom and removed my clothes. I momentarily paused when I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror next to the closet. I still wasn’t entirely happy with the person looking back at me. However, I did see noticeable improvements in my figure. Liz was right. The fat was beginning to slowly melt away, and taking its place was lean muscle. The slight transformation was even easier to discern now that I was naked, without the encumbrance of the bikini.

It was working.

Our grueling workouts, the sore muscles, the exhaustion, the healthy diet ... it was working, and it was worth it.

Excitedly, I grabbed my black Stewart Weitzman Highland dominatrix boots from the back of the closet. I couldn’t help but check my look in the mirror again. My large breasts were rising and falling with each breath, and my pink nipples were pointy and erect. My eyes scanned lower, down to my full, ash-blonde pubic hair.

In the past, I had always kept myself neatly trimmed. However, while conducting my research, I learned that in most BDSM circles, it was submissives who trimmed or kept a bare pubic area. I did break with convention somewhat by getting the area around my vagina lips and asshole waxed. I discovered that it felt much cleaner, and it was also more pleasurable when Chris went down on me or ‘worshiped’ me, as I now liked to call it.

I reached back into the closet and retrieved my black, strapless, leather corset. Even though I hadn’t worn it in a month, I felt much more comfortable wearing it now. Unexplainably, it felt like a natural extension of my body and personality.

It just felt right.

I giggled when I observed that each of the buckles could be laced up about two inches tighter. As I gave myself one final examination, I noticed that I had an even more pronounced hourglass figure, much more evident than it was a month ago.

I ran my middle finger between the lips of my vagina. My pussy felt like a humid, hot, wet rainforest. The anticipation of dominating Chris was almost more than I could stand.

It was time.

I walked into our master bedroom and looked into our bathroom. Chris was sitting naked on the toilet with his blindfold on. When my boots met the ceramic tiles on our bathroom floor, it produced a loud clicking noise that Chris heard, and he immediately rose to his feet. I couldn’t help but notice his erection protruding proudly from his body.

“You’re quite worked up, aren’t you, worm?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“You haven’t been touching yourself, have you?”

“No, Ma’am, of course not.”

“We have a problem, though, that needs to be addressed.”

I witnessed the questioning look on his face, even though his eyes were covered with the blindfold. I paused for a few moments to create a dramatic effect before I continued speaking.

“You’ve spent a lot of time on the internet looking at BDSM sites. During your ... let’s call it... ‘inquiries,’ did any of the submissives have pubic hair?”

He thought for a moment.

“No, Ma’am, they didn’t.”

“What do you think you should be doing now, then?”

“Removing my pubic hair, Ma’am,” he said sheepishly.

“Get to it!” I hissed.

Chris quickly removed the blindfold from his eyes, reached into one of the bathroom drawers, and pulled out his beard trimmer. After powering the device on, he carefully ran it over his pubic region, and his reddish-brown pubes began to fall on the floor. Within a few seconds, the jungle above his penis was reduced to mere stubble. Next, he grabbed his can of shaving cream and rubbed a generous amount over the bristles. Then, he reached for his razor and prepared to finish the job until I interrupted him.

“You’re my property now. Don’t you think that should be my honor?”

Our eyes met.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said before handing me the razor.

His cock looked almost painfully erect. The head was deep purple in color, and his shaft was twitching in time to the beat of his heart. He was incredibly aroused even though his cock hadn’t been touched yet.

“You had better settle yourself down and hold still. We don’t want a trip to the emergency room tonight, do we?”

He took a deep breath.

“No, Ma’am.”

I took his razor in my hand and slowly moved it upwards, shaving the stubble. I could hear low moans from above me. I wasn’t sure why this was turning him on so much, but obviously, it was. He didn’t have hair on his testicles, yet there was another area that required my attention.

“Turn around, bend over, spread your legs, and pull your ass cheeks apart.”

His mouth dropped open, and he gave me a bewildered look. Seconds later, he quickly complied with my command.

I gave his ass a little smack, and he emitted a low moan. Gently, I ran my index finger over the puckered little hole, and I could feel Chris shiver.

“This should be hair-free as well, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Y-y-y-yes, Ma’am,” he stammered.

I squirted some shaving cream over his asshole and gently rubbed it over the delicate skin. Next, I grabbed his razor and carefully removed the hair. Finally, I reached for a washcloth and wiped off the excess shaving cream so I could inspect my work.

“M-m-m-m ... Nice and smooth, just like I want it.”

I looked between Chris’s legs, and there was a long string of pre-cum dangling from his cock. I couldn’t help but smile.

He let out a low moan as I ran my index finger up and down his asshole several times, teasing him before I continued speaking.

“If we’re going to use this tonight, it should be clean, don’t you think?”

His entire body was shaking in excitement, but after a few seconds, he was finally able to settle himself down enough to speak.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

I waited a few moments, which gave the effect of a dramatic pause.

“Turn around, Chris.”

Chris turned and faced me. I reached underneath the bathroom sink and retrieved the item that I had hidden underneath the folded bathroom towels.

“Do you know what this is?”

He looked into my eyes.

“It’s an enema bag, Ma’am.”

I smiled. I was pretty sure I knew the answer to my next question. However, I couldn’t help but ask it because it seemed to heighten the sexual tension.

“Have you ever received an enema?”

He inhaled deeply as the reality of what was going to happen next appeared to be hitting him.

“No, Ma’am, I haven’t.”

“This will be an evening of many firsts, then, for both of us.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Chris watched as I slowly removed the apparatus from the plastic wrapping. I had actually practiced assembling the device a couple of nights prior because I wanted to appear confident and self-assured in front of my submissive. I connected the tubing to the large, red plastic bag. Then, I connected the small probe to the other end of the plastic tubing.

I filled the plastic bag with warm purified water and added a small amount of non-iodized salt, which I read was supposed to aid in purification. I reached back into the cabinet and pulled out a tube of Astroglide that I also hid.

Chris watched in apparent awe while I generously lubed the probe.

“Take this,” I said while handing Chris the plastic bag filled with water, “and hang it from the shower door. Then, turn around.”

He took a deep breath in an attempt to control his hyperventilation. Then, he complied with my order.

“Spread your ass cheeks apart, worm,” I hissed.

He took another deep breath, reached behind with both hands and exposed his freshly shaven asshole to me. He emitted a low moan as I ran my index finger over his little puckered hole.

“M-m-m-m-m ... You’re so tight back here, Chris. I’ll have to see what I can do to loosen things up. However, first things first...”

I squirted a large dollop of Astroglide on my index finger and rubbed it over his asshole. Chris let out a low moan, and I was beginning to realize how much he enjoyed having his ass played with. With the tip of my finger, I worked a small amount of the lube inside his orifice. Almost immediately, I could feel him tense up, and the small muscular ring in his anus closed tightly around my finger.

“You better learn to relax, worm,” I hissed, “or this is going to be one long, painful evening.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said hoarsely.

I heard him take a deep breath, and his sphincter loosened and released the ‘death grip’ on my finger.

“Good boy,” I said after pushing my index finger inside him to the second knuckle.

He let out another low moan as I worked my finger in deeper. After a minute or so, his tight little rectum had loosened to the point that I could slide my finger in and out with minimal resistance.

He was ready.

I grasped the lubricated probe and gently inserted it into his rectum. The circumference of the probe was much smaller than my finger, and it slid in easily. Chris let out a little grunt when the probe was fully inserted.

I reached up and opened the small valve below the plastic bag, which emptied the warm water from his bowels. To my delight, Chris whimpered and moaned as he received his first enema. I couldn’t help but think that this had to be a degrading experience for him. However, his fully erect member was also telling me this was something he obviously enjoyed, at least on some level.

Once the bag had been completely emptied, I retracted the probe from Chris’s ass.

“Tell me what it feels like, worm.”

He took a deep breath.

“I feel so full, Ma’am, and I really have to use the bathroom.”

I couldn’t help but smile. I loved his brutal honesty. He was so vulnerable, and I knew this was an incredibly degrading experience for him. However, he seemed to revel in the humiliation of the moment.

“Please, Ma’am, I don’t think I can hold it. I really have to use the bathroom.”

I loved the desperation in his voice and the pleading; he was right where I wanted him.

“We don’t want you making a mess in here, do we ... go ahead and release the water.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” he said desperately as he sat down on the toilet and emptied the water from his bowels.

I gave him a minute or so to ensure he’d voided his bowels, which gave me some time to study his face. There was an obvious look of relief, which was to be expected. Additionally, there was an expression of degradation, depravity, and shame mixed with comfortable contentment. Chris was in his element, submitting to me, and that gave me an immeasurable feeling of pride in my husband.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

His face blushed a deep, red ember.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

I smiled.

“Good, because I’m enjoying it too. Now clean yourself, and let’s continue.”

Chris received several more enemas during the next half hour. Throughout the entire cleansing process, his member looked almost painfully erect, and at times, it was throbbing and dripping pre-cum. I allowed him to administer the last enema himself. I wanted to ensure that in the future, he could prepare himself for an evening anal play without my assistance. After he took a quick shower and dried off, he was ready for my next order.

“Retrieve the treasure chest, then sit at the foot of the bed and wait for me.”

Two weeks earlier, I had purchased an ornate antique trunk at Pier One Imports. It fit perfectly underneath our bed, and it was ideal for storing our growing collection of sex toys.

Several minutes later, I entered the room and knelt down in front of the chest. After I unlocked it, I opened the lid towards Chris, which blocked his view and prevented him from seeing what was inside. After a short dramatic pause, I removed my latest purchase: A leather strap-on harness. It had a large metal ring on the front that was compatible with a wide variety of dildos and plugs.

Chris never took his eyes off me as I put the leather harness on. Afterward, I looked him in the eye.

“Now, which one of these toys should I choose to take your virginity.”

I made it sound like I had dozens to choose from, which seemed to add to the dramatic flair of the moment. In reality, I had only purchased two dildos.

“This should do nicely.”

His eyes got wide as I produced a six-inch flesh-colored dildo. It was complete with low-hanging testicles, which made it look even more realistic.