Last night, Xena had a report to read. I knelt at the end of the bed and mutely massaged her feet for an hour.
For those that have just tuned in, she keeps me in a Custom Chastity Saint. I was sealed for almost a year, then was released for a couple of weeks - I'm still processing that! - now I'm locked until a trip in a couple of weeks.
Honestly, she just wanted a foot rub while she worked. She was totally using me...
Which - plus she has nice feet - totally turned me on.
Then around midnight she beat me - I hadn't reached my daily wordcount. Sure, beating is a BDSM thing and turned me on. However, it hurt enough that today I'm typing like a lunatic. (I'm taking a break to write this otherwise my brain would explode.)
Finally, she banished me to my cell - her dressing room where I have a bedding roll amidst her boots and shoes. I closed the door but heard her rummaging in the toy drawer.
You see, the beating had also turned her on.
I had to lie there for half an hour, my buttocks smarting, my cock hard in its cage, while the vibrator buzzed in the next room. Then her light went off.
In the morning, I emerged to kneel on the floor until she wanted breakfast. Then coffee. She told me my tasks for the day, remind me about word count, and went off to work.
And that's pretty much routine for me.
Sure, the majority of the time we're just like any other couple, but that majority is pretty slim and distributed in the early evening. Every night at a minimum finds me kneeling on the floor waiting to be called to bed.
None of it is very epic, nor have there been any major high points... which is fine. This is as happy as I have ever been. I get more Femdom in a working week, than many subs my generation see in a lifetime.
Plus, it's real.
None of it was scripted. The rules - the culture, if you like - of my slavery were negotiated. My wife can treat me like a slave if she treats me as a slave. I;m not a doormat, I'm a submissive. Within that framework, she was pretty much suiting herself.
Xena - an introvert - was peopled out, had work to do, wanted a foot rub, didn't want an audience when she masturbated, did want the bed to herself. It was as if the power relationship were real.
It turns me on just thinking about it. The snag is I can't wank and I have five more pages of erotica to write before she comes home...
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