Origins - Mom Becomes a Submissive
by Mike McGifford
Copyright© 2026 by Mike McGifford
BDSM Story: I wrote Mom's Enema in 2 days. Afterwards, I couldn't stop wondering how things got to that point in Jessica's life. So I wrote a standalone story of how Jessica and her husband Jim originally became the submissives of the new neighbors who had just purchased the home next door. There is still a lot to tell about how things progressed from newbie to well-trained. Maybe even enough for a 3rd story. We'll see.
Caution: This BDSM Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction DomSub FemaleDom Humiliation Spanking .
You may as well have given me a list of things you will do, Jessica. It’d be a fraction of the size. Tell me again why you’re even bothering?”
Jessica and Dale had been talking for about half an hour about her dreams of improving herself, giving up her gambling habit, losing weight, being less judgemental of others and maybe experimenting a little with sex.
That last admission to a man had made her blush furiously and Dale instantly fell in love with that powerful emotional state. He had been reluctant to move the conversation along but he had more questions like why she was averse to so many things and yet here to discuss becoming his sub.
There was, after all, very little likelihood this snow white vanilla woman had tried 99% of the no-go items on her list.
“Jim and I talked about it and like I said, there are things about myself that I know I need to work on but I don’t have the discipline to stick to a plan,” Jessica explained while looking at her lap, her cheeks still flushed.
“There are people that specialize in personal development, Jessica. You and Jim didn’t need to come here today with your neatly prepared lists of things I can’t explore with you,” Dale Parker replied gently.
“I’ve looked into a therapist before and even a life coach but do you know how expensive they are? We’ve been to marriage counseling, not that we’re not very much in love because we are,” Jessica assured her neighbor, “and you know what she said? She told us both that we need to be more assertive. Well great. How do you learn to be more assertive? I’m just not wired that way. Neither is Jim.”
“So you’ve both suddenly decided to take the leap and train as submissives together?”
“It wasn’t sudden, like a spur of the moment thing! You got us both to thinking, is all. When you said when you invited us over for dinner last week that you and Anne train submissives, I was honestly shocked! Who tells their new neighbors that they’re professional Dominatrixes?”
“Retired professionals, Jessica.’ Dale didn’t bother correcting her word usage as long as she understood they had managed to both retire at 50. “I’m not embarrassed about how I earned my retirement and I’ve found that being transparent saves a lot of misunderstandings down the road.”
“There was no reason for you to tell us that, though! It was like TMI. Do you know what that is? It stands for too much information to share with strangers. Especially your new neighbors.”
“My wife and I may be retired but we still enjoy playing occasionally. If you’d seen a man or woman pull into our drive, stay for a few hours and leave looking like they’d been through the ringer, you would have had questions. This way, we circumvented that. The real question is what made you both think it’d be okay to approach us about being our submissive sluts?”
Jessica blushed harder. Dale’s description of her as a potential slut was the polar opposite of how she felt about herself. She’d only ever been with Jim and they had 3 children together in their 17 year marriage. She was no one’s slut. Yet here she was, fully aware that if Dale accepted her, she would have sex with him. The same as if Jim, who was in another room talking to Anne, was accepted by her.
Jessica wasn’t sure how she felt about her husband sticking his dick in Anne. She was so pretty and she filled the room with her presence just like Dale did. The jealousy monster in her didn’t like the idea at all. But Jim had said the same thing about Dale and he was still willing to do this if it was what she truly wanted. She’d assured him that although Dale was attractive, he was not her type.
Jim was her only type and Dale was married to Anne. It’d be like swinging, she’d decided. Anyway, Jim might not ever get to use his penis that way. Anne might not be interested in him sexually. Her research had taught her that.
“We talked about it when we got home. We decided there had to be a reason you didn’t invite our kids over and you so casually talked about training submissives that we thought you were offering an invitation and we decided to accept it. I’m so sorry if I misunderstood,” Jessica said, getting to her feet, her face burning in shame and humiliation.
“Sit!” Dale barked.
Jessica’s knees immediately gave way and she dropped back into her seat like she’d had her strings cut.
“Sorry,” Jessica apologized. “I thought_”
“Don’t think so much. I know you, Jessica. You think far too much.”
“We only met last week,” Jessica argued. “How could you possibly know_”
“Shush. Rule 1 is you do not speak until you’re given permission when I shush you. Nod if you understand.”
Jessica paused a moment then nodded, biting her lip. There was so much she needed to say!
“Thank you. Now listen. There might be a test. When I said I know you, I meant that I know your type, Jessica. You and Jim both. You’re both adrift in the sea of life, clutching each other as if each can save the other and now you’re both learning that neither of you is wired to stand firm while the sea batts you around. That is how Anne and I are wired. We do stand firm. Nothing rattles us.”
Jessica lifted her hands as if to ask a question but a look from Dale told her he wasn’t finished. She put her hand down again.
“Before your outburst, I was going to compliment you. You’ve made a good decision. I merely wondered why you made that decision and if it was a joint decision or if one of you railroaded the other into it. You may answer,” Jim allowed.
“We’re not adrift, Dale. We have a good life and wonderful children. We_”
“I believe I said you could answer the question, not make a case for why you should not be here, Jessica. If you do not want to be here, you are free to leave,” Dale suggested.
“I’m sorry. No, I want to be here. But this is hard is all. I’m not used to interviewing to be ... Anyway, to answer your question, it was both of our decisions. But we agreed that we should make it clear what we won’t do and see if we were wasting our time thinking about it.”
“So you thought you could waste Anne’s and my time instead?” Dale lifted an eyebrow in amusement.
“No! Like I said, I thought you were ... inviting us,” Jessica finished lamely.
“Very well. This list of yours, though. How did you compile it? Do you really even know what FFM is compared with FMF?”
“I went online and looked up ... fetishes,” Jessica blushed anew. “I saw things that scared me, things that disgusted me and a few that intrigued me. Then I added in the things that were important, like my kids never knowing. Can I ask a question, though?”
“Please do,” Dale encouraged the petite housewife and mother.
“Is there a difference between MMF and MFM? I saw that too but I didn’t think it applied to me.”
Dale chuckled. “There most certainly is if you’re a man!” Dale replied. “One makes the man the meat in the sandwich and the other makes it the woman. The same applies to FMF and FFM.”
“Oh. Oh!” Jessica’s brows shot up in understanding. “Well I certainly don’t want that! Ewww,” Jessica screwed up her face at the idea of being with another woman.
Dale chuckled again, reading her expression as much as what she’d said. This woman is so repressed and has been trained so thoroughly by society that she has no idea of what she really wants or needs. An interesting challenge, breaking through her self imposed walls to get at the real Jessica.
He would enjoy that challenge, he decided. But only if Anne is willing to accept Jim as well. It wouldn’t work if only Jessica were to be trained. It could destroy their marriage and that was the last thing Dale wanted.
“I need to consult with my wife,” Dale told Jessica. “When I return, I expect to see you naked against that wall with your hands on your head. That doesn’t mean I’ve accepted you. It simply means that you are trainable. I will not accept you if Mistress Anne rejects Jim or if you fail to be in position as prescribed. Is that clear?”
“Umm,” Jessica gulped. “Sure. Okay.”
“Call me Sir when you speak to me, slut,” Dale advised her calmly.
“Yes, Sir,” Jessica repeated, playing with her hands nervously in her lap.
She had come to Dale’s home with the mindset that she would consider Dale to be like a new doctor she was going to see for the first time but now, sitting on his couch without Jim next to her, the reality of the situation was making itself felt.
Twice Dale had called her a slut and now she’d have to undress in this stranger’s living room and display herself for him. She could no longer pretend it was anything other than what it was.
This would be a sex game being used as a tool for personal development instead of paying the big bucks for a professional that may or may not even benefit her. She’d thought she could do this but could she? Really?
If Jim was with her, yes. But he wasn’t. He was in his own interview. Now she’d agreed to strip and let another man see her naked. If she didn’t, she’d not just be letting herself down but Jim as well.
“Sir? Could I ... could you bring Jim in here before I ... actually take off my clothes for you? I’m terrified, to be frank.”
Dale had to consider it for a moment before he agreed. On the one hand, he’d said that he needed his sluts to be able to follow directions but on the other, this vanilla woman wasn’t yet anything to him.
Did she even realize that taking her clothes off in front of him would be harder than getting naked privately? Maybe having her husband here would give Jessica something to focus on instead of him for her first and only time. It certainly could not be something he allowed every time as he had to have her learn trust to make this work.
He decided he was quite interested to find out if this woman was as self-conscious as she appeared based on attire. Nervous, humiliated sluts really did push his buttons as much as Anne’s!
Dale left Jessica contemplating her navel and headed for the study where Anne was having her chat with Jim. Dale knew from experience that Jim was exactly the sort of submissive she liked - a man who was eager to please yet built like a quarterback. He wondered if his wife had made more progress with Jim than he’d made with Jessica.
The door to the study was wide open but he heard them before he got there.
A masculine crooning sound, not quite a sob, but definitely a noise that indicated discomfort along with his wife’s sweet voice offering encouragement.
Dale strode in. The first thing he saw was Jim, facing away from the door, his pants and underwear around his ankles, his knees spread, his wife holding the younger man’s testicles from behind as if trying to pull them up between his butt cheeks.
“Oh, I guess you made your decision then?” He asked his wife.
“Really more of an appraisal at this point, dear. Jimmy here has the pain threshold of a five year old. I told him if he can achieve an erection while I pull on his little walnuts I would allow him to thank me by giving my shoe a tongue bath. It seems he’s going to pass this test, after all. I was beginning to wonder. His pencil does have lead and it reacted to your arrival.”
The actual fact was that Jim had an impressive, above average erection that had developed while he was dropping his drawers but Anne was not about to admit it in front of him. He was also clearly enjoying the rough yet intimate treatment Anne was providing.
That Anne had allowed him to bare his genitals told Dale that Anne had been impressed by whatever he had told her so far.
Dale walked around the pair to have a look at Jim’s penis. He wasn’t a cock-lover himself but he did enjoy humiliating men almost as much as women and he considered himself an equal opportunity sadist. He chuckled loudly when Jim finally noticed him staring.
“Where is the rest of it?” He asked, holding his fingers up 2 inches apart for Anne to see as if suggesting to Anne that Jim had a micro penis.
Even though his face was contorted in pain, Jim wasn’t trying to get away from Anne and despite blushing hard, Jim’s cock was bouncing up and down of its own accord.
“Careful, Anne, it seems like he’s getting ready to spit on the floor. I don’t need him staining our new carpet.”
“Yes, I do believe you’re right, dear,” Anne agreed, releasing his balls and causing Jim to loudly expel a breath he’d been holding. “Barely satisfactory. Stay! The adults are going to speak, so be quiet.”
Anne stepped away from Jim and Dale came around him again so Jim’s back was to the pair. To his credit, Jim didn’t move to pull his pants back up and instead focused on the wall in front of him.
“Is wifey at least worth anything? I was right, wasn’t I? She was hiding a big ol’ pair of tits under that frumpy dress and I know how much you love to torture big tits.”
“Breast play is on its no-go list, hun. Anyway, I haven’t seen it naked yet. It wants to wait until Jimmy joins it before it shows us what it’s hiding under that hideous cloth it’s wearing,” Dale said to his wife.
They shared a smile, both enjoying imagining what Jim was thinking of him, referring to Jessica as an ‘it’. It might be a game, but it was a fun game. They nodded to each other, wordlessly agreeing to at least play with the couple once or twice and get a better feel for them as people they could enjoy knowing.
Then Anne spoke out loud, a rehearsed discussion for Jim to listen to.
“So you haven’t made a decision either? That’s too bad. I was hoping that wifey would make training them both, at least a little amusing. Jimmy is really too much of a baby for me to ordinarily be bothered with and I was only considering an exception to please you, dear.”
“How about you put a leash on little Jimmy and walk him to the living room to watch his wifey remove those rags it’s wearing? Maybe we could do them both a favor and burn them? They really should never see daylight again,” Dale suggested, piling it on thick.
Jim listened, his fists clenched. Dale was so rude! How dare he talk about Jessica as if she was a piece of furniture. As for her clothes, she dressed like that so that other men wouldn’t hit on her because she is mine. Dale would know that if he’d bothered to ask, Jim raged silently
What happened to the wonderful older couple who had invited them to dinner last week?
Mistress Anne was different. She reminded him of his beautiful yet haughty mother, although she acted more like his older sister who had tormented him mercilessly when he was a teen. His mom had passed and his sister had found religion, moved overseas and married.
As for Mistress Anne, something about her embarrassing him was turning him on. He would do practically whatever Mistress Anne wanted, within reason, but Dale had better not try to lead him on a leash! He didn’t sign on to be some dude’s toy, he vowed to himself.
“Don’t forget, Dale, I did promise Jimmy the opportunity to make up for his failings as a man by giving my stilettos a tongue bath, although I do believe he only earned the chance to spit shine one of them, this time. He’ll have to do much better if he ever hopes to do both. You know how important being a woman of my word is.”
“So definitely not worthy of a milking, then?” Dale asked, managing to keep a straight face.
“Oh heavens no, dear! Shit on my shoe has a better chance of being touched. I have to admit though, I see a spark of potential. With training and concerted effort, there’s hope for him yet. I could even imagine one day actually parting my thighs for him. That day, however, is certainly not today. At this moment, I don’t know if I can consent to ... Oh, I don’t know, as much as having wifey milk him,” Anne quipped.
“It needs to be done, hun. You need to know the equipment, if you can even call it that, works as intended. You’ll have to be strong and stomach observing him, at the very least.”
This whole conversation was one the couple had acted out many times over the years. Usually they’d have their ‘talk’ with Anne’s new sub facing the wall, hands holding his butt cheeks apart, occasionally with him blindfolded and bound, but always doing whatever they could to humiliate him.
After the scene was over, they’d revert to their real personas and discuss how the game had affected the sub. They’d talk candidly about what worked and what didn’t.
Today’s talk was unusual in that Anne’s interview had rolled straight into Jim’s first scene. It had just felt right to do it that way for Anne and Jim didn’t even know it’d happened.
“Do you think we should kill two birds with one stone and have Jimmy bathe my stiletto and be milked at the same time?” Anne asked Dale so that Jim could hear.
What he knew she was really asking, was did Dale think Jessica was capable of handling her first scene the way Jim was and did he think she would be overwhelmed seeing her husband dehumanized, with absolutely no ease-in period or days to adjust herself to being a submissive for the first time in front of him.
He also knew Anne was saying she thought Jim would be okay with it. Dale considered the question and nodded, before agreeing verbally to Anne’s suggestion.
Jim was shocked at Mistress Anne’s suggestion. Jessica would see him being led into the room wearing a dog leash and would witness him licking her shoe. They’d agreed not to laugh at each other doing degrading things, but he didn’t know if he was ready to put their promise to the test.
Then the ‘milking’ part. He wanted to cum so bad it hurt, but all this had suddenly become real. Talking about the fantasy of doing sex stuff was completely different now that it was about to happen. Even if it was Jessica doing it. She’d be doing it in front of an audience. Could she, or would he be left hanging when she couldn’t do it in front of others?
He heard the rattle of a small chain.
“Come here, Jimmy. Hurry!” Anne demanded. Jim moved so quickly he almost tripped on his own pants. He bent over to undo his shoelaces so he could quickly remove the offending items but Anne stopped him.
“What part of hurry did you not understand, you silly boy? Waddle that hairy ass over here immediately. You can beg me to spank you once we’re done with wifey,” Anne told him imperiously.
“Sorry, Mistress Anne. I did_” Anne cut him off.
“Did I ask for excuses, Jimmy? You can beg for a paddling instead of a spanking, now. If you really want to test yourself, keep being naughty. There are whips and canes to beg for if you insist.”
Anne was aware that paddles, whips and canes were on Jim’s no-go list and she had decided to conveniently ‘forget’ that in the interests of making the scene more realistic. That was why she had left the responsibility of begging for that punishment to him.
Jim obediently waddled over to where Mistress Ann stood with a dog collar and leash.
“Down, Fido. Good dog,” she said as Jim dropped to his knees in front of her.
Jim hated to see the smirk on Dale’s face. He tried to ignore it and focus solely on Mistress Anne.
The collar was far too big for Jim’s neck and Anne was able to slide it right over Jim’ head. It made him feel smaller wearing such a loose symbol of submission. He felt like a 3 year old boy wearing his father’s shoes.
At least Anne then allowed him to remove his shoes, socks, pants and underwear so those items wouldn’t get in the way again.
Anne led Jim on all fours out of the study, down the hall and into the living room. Dale followed along behind after picking up a silver tray off a shelf for use later. As he followed, Dale noted that Jim was still hard and watching Anne’s rear end, which, in her black pencil skirt, seamed stockings and stilettos, did look particularly enticing.
Dale heard Jessica gasp as Jim entered the room on all fours, but to her credit, she didn’t utter a word. Jim would have crawled all the way over to his wife sitting demurely on the couch except that Anne jerked on his leash and barked, “Fido! No! Bad dog! You will Not hump Wifey’s leg!”
Anne knew Jim had not intended anything of the sort but Jim’s ears burned in shame anyway. Anne smiled at Jessica.
“Do you like Fido’s collar? He’ll grow into it but he’s still a puppy yet. He’s not even housebroken.”
Dale could see that his wife was preparing to launch into her spiel about Fido wearing a ‘people’ shirt as if he was a puppy pretending to be a ‘hooman’. Humiliating new slaves was one of her favorite pastimes and Dale was sure she’d find doing so even more fun in front of her new slave’s wife, but Dale too had an agenda.
It was one involving a lovely mother of three who had agreed to personally strip away her own first line of defense - her own dowdy clothing.
“On your feet, slut,” Dale ordered in a voice that brooked no argument yet was of a differing tone and timbre than he’d used on Jim.
Anne accepted her cue and seemed to rock back on her heels, taking a stance as an observer of the interplay between her husband and her slave’s wife.
Jessica nervously climbed to her feet and smoothed her skirt, not sure where to look. Her eyes traveled to Jim, looked away, returned, moved to Anne and eventually she settled on Dale’s shoes, which pleased him. He was supposed to be her primary focus if she was to be his slut. She seemed to know that looking him in the eye was akin to a challenge.
“Are you ready to shed the armor you’ve needed for a life lived isolated in a society of people who have no idea what true peace and happiness is?” He asked.
Jessica nodded then remembered what he’d told her. “As ready as I’ll ever be, Sir.”
“A simple, yes Sir, would have sufficed,” Dale pointed out and a smile twitched the corners of his lips when he saw her blush. “Begin.”
Jessica had spent the last 10 minutes going over in her head exactly how she would undress for Dale. First the shoes, then the cardigan followed by drawing the zipper on her dress all the way down and shrugging out of one shoulder at a time until the dress slid softly to the floor for her to kick away.
She had imagined herself swaying to silent music, slipping her underclothes off so eroticly that Dale would become overcome with lust and ravage her. She had not planned on having an audience of Dale’s wife as well as Jim. Reality never matches fantasy, she reminded herself.
She did try her best, though. The shoes came off easily, the dress, not so much. Usually Jim helped with her zipper but she was sure his help would be unappreciated now, since he was bottomless, on all fours with a shrinking penis hanging between his legs. So, Jessica was left to contort herself while attempting to lower the zipper. Not in the least sexy.
Jessica did eventually manage it, though she had to endure Anne snickering at her awkwardness. She practically ripped it, yanking it down past her hips in her frustrated humiliation. She just wanted it gone by that point, caring less about showing skin than having it off her body.
Once it was at her feet she had to resist the urge to stomp on the offending item, promising herself that next time she’d opt for a blouse and skirt or slacks, not even considering the idea that there may never be a next time.
Only once she regained her composure somewhat, did she realize she was standing in her neighbor’s living room in her reinforced sports bra and underpants, her husband’s new Mistress looking at her in amusement. She mentally cringed.
“The bra next, slut. Mistress Anne says your funbags are large for your frame although you wouldn’t know it in that ... thing,” Dale gestured vaguely at the offending bra.
‘This is it,’ Jessica said to herself, as she lifted her hands to the sides of the compression garment. ‘The first man since Jim to see my breasts’.
With practiced efficiency Jessica peeled the sports bra up and over her breasts, exposing her double E’s to her audience.
The first thing Jessica noticed, even before the reactions of the husband and wife doms, was the way her nipples instantly swelled and hardened.
Jessica was very aware that breastfeeding 3 children had done a number on them, elongating and thickening them to what she considered to be obscene proportions. Each was bigger than the tip of her pinky finger, almost as big around as her index finger. She didn’t actually hate them, but she wished they were smaller and maybe less sensitive.
She was extremely conscious of them and she could feel 3 pairs of eyes laser-focused on them to the point that her arm came up to shield them from view.
“That won’t do at all, wifey,” Anne’s voice cut through the overbearing silence in the room. “Drop your arm immediately. Never EVER hide those puppies from your Dom’s view!”
Dale was not often at a loss for words. When Jessica had freed the girls he had experienced it. Jessica’s breasts were such a surprise. Even with Anne’s prediction, he was spellbound seeing them pop, joggle and settle when the bra came free of their hold.
An acknowledged breast man, he’d been confident he’d see large C’s as Anne had expected, but he’d been prepared to accept that lack of exercise, childbirth and nursing 3 children had done quite a number on them.
It wouldn’t have particularly bothered him, after all boobs are boobs no matter their size or shape. He adored Anne’s small B’s despite their age and partial deflation.
Jessica’s though, were still teardrop shaped, full, high and something that women had bust jobs to emulate. Then those nipples! The fun he could have with those babies once he convinced her to scrap a large portion of her overcautious list, would bring hours of joy to them both, he just knew it in his bones.
Only twice in his long history of personal mammary studies had he seen milkers of that caliber in person and she’d hidden hers away like they were an embarrassment. That was the true crime second only to the self depreciating outer garments she’d used to disguise the rest of her figure.
He was glad Anne had spoken up, giving him time to recover.
“And now the bloomers, Jessica. I was unaware they even made panties of that style anymore. Do you shop at Goodwill for your clothing? I seem to recall my own mother used to launder similar items and hang them on the clothesline but she’d purchased hers in the 1960’s.”
Jessica had known this was coming. She had berated herself as she’d sat waiting for Dale to return, asking herself why on earth she’d worn that particular pair today. The answer had been simple. She had not in her wildest dreams really thought she would be showing them to another man today.
She’d come over with Jim to discuss what she’d thought of as Dale and Anne’s offer. To discover if sexual submission could be extended to practical, real world applications where someone else would take charge of her and make her meet goals she couldn’t attain on her own. Not do a striptease for the neighbor. To her that was akin to kissing on a first date.
Now Jessica couldn’t wait to slip off the underpants that had given Dale ammunition for mirth at her expense. Slip them off and never don them again. Maybe burn them for good measure.
She didn’t even hesitate. In this instance, she immediately decided it was more embarrassing to have them against her skin. So she peeled them down and off. Not without shame, but with less shame. She wanted to hide them under the pool of fabric that was her dress lying on the floor of Dale’s living room.
Finally naked, she didn’t know what to do with her hands. She’d already been reprimanded for covering her breasts. She still wanted to, the same as she wanted to cover her bulging gut, pubes, fat thighs and love handles. She really wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there until everyone except Jim left the room but she couldn’t. Then she remembered the original instruction. She raised her hands and interlocked her fingers on top of her head.
“Very good, my little slut. I’m surprised you remembered. Now let’s have a look at you. Slowly rotate for me and keep turning until I tell you to stop. Do it slowly to give Mistress Anne and I a chance to discuss you properly.”
I can’t believe I’m doing this! Jessica said to herself as she moved one foot then the other, doing a slow spin in place.
“Slower! Much slower. Each revolution should take 20 to 30 seconds. It’s not a race and I’m not trying to make you dizzy,” Dale instructed in the calm, even voice he used when he knew he had to reduce a submissive’s anxiety.
“What about that bush, dear. Are you really going to allow her to keep it? Maybe tame it somewhat?” Jessica heard Anne ask.
Dale chuckled lightly. “I feel like I should use a notebook at this point, dear. The slut already knows she needs diet and exercise but lord, there’s so much to be worked on. The arms lack any sort of definition at all, the stomach looks like she swallowed a beach ball, the ass sags, the legs are little more than trunks to hold her cunt off the floor. I certainly have my work cut out for me.”
“She’d better be very good with her holes then, sweetheart. With the size of that ass, you’ll waste 3 inches of cock length just reaching the rear entrance!”
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