I believe my servant, Butler, would continue to serve without corporal punishment. I suppose her servant obeyed her for the privilege of living with her and occasionally sleeping with her.

Her comments made me ask myself why Butler and I continue on this perilous path. I further realized that if I found Butler another place to live, he would undoubtedly continue to show up each day to clean my house. I admit it was a delicious idea to contemplate for a short while if only to mess with his head. However, if it is true that corporal and emotional discipline was no longer necessary then why not move him out? For a long time my girlfriend, Heather, not wanting him underfoot, encouraged me to do this very thing.

I was never tempted. Do I continue to house and to beat Butler solely for my sadistic pleasure and for the addition service he can provide as a live in servant?

At certain moments, it will dawn on me. I own a slave. It’s why I keep Butler in a uniform. It’s why I have so many rules for him. I sometimes see him calmly doing what he is told and spontaneously an erotic feeling rises up through me. He subservience can trigger a dark impulse to push him down even further. I find this feeling almost irresistible. I can do what I want with him. Anytime.

Last night I passed through the kitchen after dinner and noticed him cleaning the kitchen floor. I never allow him to use a mop. It’s one of my rules. I like seeing him on his hands and knees with a rag to clean the floor. It is a ridiculous rule but as I watched him I felt that familiar urge pass through me. I quietly left the kitchen and returned in my cat suit and my strap on.

He was finishing when he looked up to see me leaning on the banister with a latex dildo pointing rudely at him. I could see a shiver pass through him. I don’t know what was going through his head before I spontaneously showed up. Maybe his mind was a thousand miles away. Maybe he was thinking about me and wanting an experience. It doesn’t matter. He is mine to do with as I please. Also, I know that when I’m in the mood he instantly responds to my inclinations.
I told him to stay where he was. He knew what to do. I stood in front of him accepting his homage. He knew to take my dildo into his mouth to lubricate it with his saliva. I kicked him around to face him away from me and reaching around him unfastened his pants and dropped them. He stayed on his knees as I mounted him. When we first started, this moment of dominance was my weakest point. I had trouble being verbal.

That’s not true anymore. I have found the well in me of ever flowing bitchiness. Really, all I had to do was to recount what has been happening the last few weeks. I reminded him of my dating a younger man and his willingness to serve by cooking us dinner. I reminded him of being under the bed being crushed by our lovemaking. I reminded him that he was now a tool to create more such moments. I used words such a wimp, fool, cuck, and sissy. You know, the usual words that I knew would drive him deeply into sub space. I punctuated my comments with a vigorous thrusting.

After a few minutes, I reached around his waist and fisted him. It didn’t take long. He groaned and cried out in mental agony and physical joy. I laughed at how easy it has become. He knew how I wanted him to clean up his mess. I ridiculed him while he did it. His humiliation never fails to stimulate me. I spun on my heels and marched upstairs with him scurrying behind me on his knees. He knew that I would want oral pleasure afterwards.

I’m moving in a few years when I retire. I’m building my next home. When I do the first thing I’m going to do is to excavate a deep hole. I want a two layer basement. Here is a little about the default mode of my brain. When given a free moment some people think about sex, or money, or sports, or gardening. When I get a free moment I frequently think about planning the perfect dungeon. Yeah, I know. If the authorities found out about me they’d keep a watchful eye on me.

In my design, the top level of the basement has tiny rooms for trusted servants and work tables. There are small ground floor windows. It is Spartan but not uncomfortable.

The lower level is designed to terrify a man. This is where an initiate of my Queendom must begin his journey. The bottom level is reached by a secure and hidden door on the first level of the basement.

There are obviously no widows as you descend deep in the earth. I think a lot about the features I want…..
-Soundproof.
-Concrete floors with extra grit to avoid slipperiness when wet and a pressed design of irregular color to resemble stone.
-All floors sloped to a central floor drain that leads to a deep oubliette covered with heavy iron bars. Below the bottom of the oubliette a sump pump.
-Rough hewn walls of real stone. Overhead large wooden stressed beams. -Black twelve foot ceiling.
-One large room to allow space for the whip.
-Several chain hoists with hand held controls.
-Elevated couches surrounding exterior of the main room for women for viewing action in the dungeon.
-Marble altar with life-size statue of the goddess.
-Hidden surround sound speakers, lighting for color changes.
-Gas burning wall torches and fireplace.
-Full bath with a plenty of room surrounding the toilet
-Several individual cells 5’X7’ each with two doors. One door with bars and one door that allows no light for isolation purposes.
-Cabinetry for equipment
-St Andrews Cross
-A large Catherine’s Wheel
-Rack which also serves as operating table.
-Surgical equipment
-First aid kit, crash cart.
-Cameras and motion detectors.

What I have dreamed, I will build. My favorite part is the oubliette. An oubliette is basically a hole or shaft dug into the ground. One drops a slave into it and then leaves him there. No other torture is required if you leave him in long enough. Oubliette is from the French verb “to forget”. Once a slave is dropped in there you can forget about him. It’s how I feel when I block a slave on Fetlife. They are dead to me.

However, when I drop a man into my real oubliette then I could never forget about him. It would be too damn exciting knowing he was in that dark hole. It would make everything feel and taste sweeter thinking about him. In my version the oubliette will not be about me forgetting him. It will be about the slave forgetting his old life and seeing that he must embrace his new role as my slave. I believe every man who serves in my Queendom should go through this rite of passage.

Imagine yourself deep under ground, looking up at the dim light. Imagine leaving your old life behind and emerging only as a slave in my Queendom.

I own a very dedicated submissive male named Butler. I also have a lovely long term relationship with my girlfriend, Heather, who once in a while helps me dominate Butler. It sounds like I have it made but I admit to occasionally feeling the urge for a sweet, younger, athletic, vanilla man to round out my life.

I don’t know why other couples experiment with cuckolding but it’s fairly simple for me. Even as a teenager, I wanted my complete sexual freedom but I didn’t want my partner to enjoy the same liberty. I’m selfish like that. Maybe I’m merely honest. After all, who wouldn’t want their freedom while their partner was faithful. I thought I would be happy if my man was indifferent to my indiscretions. Ha, I know now, I wasn’t aiming nearly high enough. A dozen years ago I wasn’t sophisticated enough to know that I could use my infidelities to energize my submissive partner’s surrender. Now, I’m trying to make up for lost time.

I cuckold my sub, Butler, for a lot of reasons, some of which I’m not sure I can easily articulate. Cuckolding him is a political, psychological, and economic, act. Also, I admit, it excites me to hurt him. I love how empowered I feel when I cuckold him. I also like the excitement of a new temporary sexual partner knowing that having such an affair can further cement my relationship with my submissive life-partner.

We all do things for a lot of different reasons that are not readily apparent to us. I don’t understand all of my reasons but I know that this feels right. My servant said the most interesting thing to me the last time I went out. He admitted that when we originally began this lifestyle that he was jealous of the men I spent time with. Now, Butler says that he views these men as nothing more than vibrating dildos that he uses to please me. He also told me that it was his spiritual duty to serve my femaleness. He added that his submission is a way he can please me sexually that another man could never accomplish without his years of training. In his utter humiliation, he has found a way to empower himself and rise above the mundane. It is wonderful to see how far he has come. I see his surrender as love. We are lucky to have found each other.

To understand my six week journal you should know that I have never shared a bedroom with Butler. I like my own space. My predilection for privacy has made his visits to my bedroom more romantic. If he’s in my room without me, he’s cleaning. If he’s there with me then we are intimate. We really don’t have a marital bed but I know he thinks of my bed that way. Consequently, he has come to think of my bedroom as a special place. He tends it like a holy shrine. I’ve never had another man in it though I’ve enjoyed another man’s company a couple of times in the last few years. However, I’m always looking for something new to do with my sub to deepen his surrender.

I decided recently that I was going to take this sacred space from him. I knew that it would hurt him. You understand, it would hurt him in just the way he needs it and wants it to hurt to drive him into deeper submission to me.

When I take something precious from him I don’t do it lightly. During the last few years, if I had acted carelessly with his feelings I think I would have lost him. However, when he sees something unfold that he perceives to have been diabolically planned then he knows that attention to his feelings was part of the plan all along. He feels loved. He knows that my actions are not only about my pleasure but also my actions are intended to bind him tighter to me. It took me weeks to ready him for this moment. I value him enough to be strategic and patient.

Physical discipline is the underlying basis of my domination of my sub. However, I want to damage more than his ass, I want to touch his soul. I want to thrust a perfect dagger into the heart of his independent manhood. It sounds counterintuitive but this is what works for us. He is a man who has a bit of experience being cuckolded but he has never actually watched.

I spent time recently at a university finishing a degree. It was full of the young athletic types who attract me, The graduate student I have chosen is cute and eager so I’m likely to personally have a good time. He latched on to me soon after we met. I’m somewhat older, better read, and I think he saw me as a challenge. He started pursuing me. A woman my age should not waste a young man’s ardor. All woman have a shelf life when they are still able to attract this kind of man. Dominant women should drink deeply of life because we can.

This took me a while to believe but over the years I’ve learned to trust that something unusual is true about Butler. My servant wants an erotic experience more than he wants actual intercourse. He can live without sex for long periods of time but he can’t live very long without something stimulating and kinky happening. For example, he believes that a woman half clothed is sexier than a naked woman. This simple preference extends deeply into his sexuality. I plan on giving him quite a ride while I also have a little fun.

Week One

This week I’ve begun tormenting him about his next cuckolding by inviting a few fellow students over to work on a project. I made sure that my next choice for a brief fling was among them. As is usual, when I have company, Butler is helpful in a completely vanilla manner. He brought us tea and snacks and cleaned up our mess while we worked. I never know what the men think of his service. They never seem to notice it. In contrast, the women are always charmed.

During a lull of working on a knotty problem one of the young women asked me who Butler was. I told her that he was my romantic partner. He’s a good bit older than me so I can understand her confusion. She grinned sheepishly and remarked, “I sorry but he was so helpful that I thought he worked for you. My boyfriend would never serve tea and snacks to my friends.” I smiled.

Afterwards, I told Butler what the woman had said about him. Cruelly, I suggested that his metamorphosis into my slave must be visible to other people to stimulate such a response from a young woman. Later, I talked about each member of the study group. I purposefully lingered for a while on the young man I’m attracted to. Butler has been trained to never show jealousy but I know him. He’s all too human. Despite all of my years of training he still wishes to claim some ownership of me. I’m not troubled by his response. It makes what I’m going to do even more interesting and irresistible. .

I purposefully gushed a bit over how handsome my intended target was and how intelligent I found him. He is adequately both of these things but I purposefully paused to rub it in. I want Butler to feel it when I betray him. Of course, “betrayal” is too strong a word but it’s somewhat how he’ll feel if I do this right. I’ve done nothing so far but talk and flirt a little but I can already feel that lovely tension between this student and me start to grow. I can also feel the even more delicious heat between Butler and me rise.

Butler will get his erotic moment and I’ll get the opportunity to enforce my personal independence while at the same time reinforcing my very real control of him. This seems to be the natural gifts exchanged between a dominant woman and a submissive man. He experiences a life of scorching tumultuous emotion that he needs to feel alive. I receive his devoted service and complete freedom. Our way is not the only way but it works for us.

Week Two

Butler knows that I’m about to date the younger student I’ve been telling him about but he is powerless to stop me.

The student, Sam, is part of my study group at the University. Our involvement in a group project necessitates that we talk on the phone occasionally. When he calls I have started to require Butler to drop what he is doing and lie on the floor in front of me. I hold on to a piece of furniture and carefully step onto his chest. No matter how I feel, I brighten my voice and talk excitedly to this student. Sometimes these calls can last 15 minutes. I can see Butler writhing on the floor underneath me in physical and emotional pain. The call often ends with me with a moist feeling between my thighs. I allow myself to gush about him at the end of each call. Butler focuses his gaze down at my feet as I talk. I can see him falling into a deep surrender.

In response to my teasing, I’ve seen that Butler has begun to put real passion into even simple tasks. Today, I noticed that he was not cleaning my kitchen floor, he was polishing it. Oh, it made we want to do a hundred different things to him. I love him too much to describe it. Of course, I won’t stop what I’m going to do. Why should I? We are both getting the life we wanted.

Week 2

I’ve invited Sam, the man I plan to seduce, to my home tomorrow night to help me with a paper I’m writing. I want Butler to observe the relationship that I will allow to develop between Sam and me. I know Butler. He’s not so much a physical masochist as he is an emotional masochist. Simply having sex with Sam will hurt Butler but he’s always known that I have occasionally cuckolded him. That’s no longer good enough for me. Butler has to see a flicker of real romance between Sam and me. I want the whole thing to unman Butler and pierce deeply into the heart of his male psyche,

If things go as planned I’ll also be adding to the excitement by defiling what Butler sees as our as a sacred space, our marital bed. This is all so exciting it’s hard not to speed this up but I know that it will be much better to slowly allow events to build. I have other surprises in store for Butler that will aid in his transformation to a completely surrendered slave. I’m taking my time. One only gets to desecrate a marital bed one time. I want things to go perfectly.

I feel very lucky I chose Butler. I doubt I could have done what I have done with a younger man. I chose Butler because of his solid maturity. He’s strong enough to take this and make it something that nudges him even closer to me and deeper into surrender. I have a heady sense of complete freedom tempered by my appreciation of my loving submissive. This is going to be more than mere fun, it’s also going to be meaningful.

The student I’m attracted to, Sam, at my invitation, stopped by today to discuss a summer project my study group is working on. I staged it perfectly. Butler was weeding in the in the front yard when he drove up. I was sitting on the front porch drinking iced tea. Sam walked up the drive and greeted me. In front of Sam, I gave Butler instructions to finish the flower beds and to eat dinner without me. I then allowed Sam to open the door to his car and hand me into his front seat. I caught the torn look on Butler’s eyes as we drove off as he watched from the front yard still on his knees. I stayed out for about two hours working on the project but my mind kept slipping to what I have planned for both men.

When I came home I know Butler was brimming with questions but his training kept him mute. I offered no information. I want him suffused with the jealousy and dread that leads to his humbling. I will allow him to bathe me and brush my hair tonight before bed. Am I cruelly teasing him? Indeed I am but it’s going to get much worse. I am filled with a wonderful sense of expectation. Being his dominatrix is the most wonderful thing that has happened to me.

Week Three

My boyfriend, I guess I should call him that, Sam, came to dinner last night. Yikes, just writing that gives me a tingle. I decided to take my cuckolding of my servant, Butler, to the next step. I’ve been increasingly harsh with him for the last few weeks. I stopped kissing him although I’ve often made use of his tongue. I’ve also belittled his past attempts at coitus. He’s very interested in sex but I have expressed a complete disdain for his offers to please me with with what I’ve called his tiny boy parts.

He has suspected that I’m having an affair with this younger man in my study group and I’ve allowed him to think that, knowing it would start chipping away at his sense of manhood. Tonight I had him cook a special dinner and secreted him in his harness in the cramped closet under the stairs as a sort of Harry Potter in bondage. From there, he could see and hear everything in the dining room and the living room. Of course, when my guest arrived, I acted as if I had cooked the meal. Yeah, I’m like that.

I tried very hard not to put on a show for Butler. I tried to forget he was even there. This was my evening. There was an interesting good-looking man coming over for dinner who was wild for me. I needed to relax and enjoy myself.

I told Sam that Butler was out late. Some might complain that I was leading Sam astray. I plan to worry about that about as much as Sam worries about me already having another man in my life, which is apparently not at all. We talked for an hour at the table. After dinner Sam offered to help clean up but I declined his offer. (He he, that’s work for a slave.)

We moved into the living room. For a long time we sat on the couch talking. I loved watching him try to seduce me. He was following a playbook I knew well. He started casually touching me the moment he arrived. There on the couch he extended his arm so that his fingertips could touch my shoulder and hair. We sipped wine and after a several minutes he confessed that he found me attractive. I could have had him right there but I love the chase.

We had music playing and he suggested that we dance. I stood up and stepped into his embrace. We swayed a while to the music. After a moment, he began kissing me. Delicious. I love being kissed by a new man. Before we slid to the floor, I pushed him gently away. I told him I was not certain how long we had to be alone. He said he understood and he invited me to dinner on Wednesday night. I accepted. We kissed again and I walked him to the door.

It’s a heady feeling to have two men under the same roof panting for you. For me, it was a great evening. After kissing Sam again at the door, I walked across the living room and opened the door to Butler’s cramped closet. Butler could not look me in the face. Instead, hunched on his hands and knees, he focused on my heels. I’ve seen him do that hundreds of times when he’s being pushed to his limit. Perfect.

I knew it was not time to be reassuring. Experience told me it was time to turn up the heat. In a matter of fact tone I told him of my future agenda. Cooly, i said, “That was fun. He’s a good dancer and a great kisser. I really like him. I’ve decided that I deserve a slave and a boyfriend. You need to get your head wrapped around this new fact. This is how it’s going to be from now on, slave. I will do anything I want to do. You will not only agree, but you will find ways to help me like cooking dinner tonight. You are simply not man enough for me. Look at yourself, in a harness with your ass plugged and your dick in a cage. What kind of man would allow himself to be put in such a predicament? Clearly, you are not a man at all. No, you’re only a slave. Luckily for you, I still want to keep you for your service. For staying silent like a good little beta bitch, I’ll allow you to bathe me and brush my hair before bed. Hurry with the dishes, I don’t want to be kept waiting too long.”

With that I started up the stairs. It was hard not to stumble. My panties were soaked. I felt dizzy with excitement. In a few minutes I knew he would be upstairs completely cowed into deep subspace. I’m writing this now, waiting for him to finish. Maybe I’ll let him lick me. But, not kiss me. No, not that. After all, I should reserve something exclusively for my new boyfriend. Or, so I’ll tell him. I thought about our many struggles over the years as we reached for more in our FLR. Finally, we are both very close to having everything we ever wanted.

Week Four

I don’t cuck my sub lightly or often. I want each of my sexual encounters to reinforce my independence and his surrender. That sounds more noble than I really am. The truth is that I’m not much into men but when I do feel the urge for a new man I want to organize my dalliances to push our FLR forward. One thing you should know about me is that I’m a list maker and a planner. It actually makes it easier for my servant Butler because he always always has my list to work from. However, my careful planning drives my spontaneous girlfriend, Heather, crazy. I will plan for something months in advance. I’m not often attracted to men but I do have appetites and I don’t feel that denying myself is what a dominatrix should do. Heather complains that I plan for things that never happen but this seduction will happen. Today, Butler is out of the house on an errand so I had Heather come over to help me with my project.

My bedroom has three doors to hide behind. I thought about restraining him in the closet with a spy hole. For some reason it didn’t feel right. Allowing him to watch felt too much like I was putting on a show for him. He doesn’t deserve that honor. I want him to be secretly present but I don’t want him titillated. I want him humbled. This explains why I crawled under the bed and had Heather bounce up and down on it to stimulate coitus.

I tried it first on my stomach but in the dim light, behind the bed skirt, I felt too isolated from the action. Next, I tried it face-up and I could see where the mattress pushed in with her exertions. That had possibilities. However, it was obvious that the bed was too high. He will be able to see something but I wanted him to also feel it. It was impractical to shorten the bed by cutting off the legs. Instead, I borrowed the mattress from our foldout couch and slipped it under the bed. Later, I’ll tell him it was for his comfort. But, it’s not.

I want my rocking hips to mush into his face with each stroke. With Heather energetically bouncing on the bed I could just feel it barely touching the tip of my nose. Perfect. Two people ought to be just right. I lay there imagining what it will be like for him. Soon, I became so slippery that I squirmed out from under the bed. Heather, bless her evil heart, was just as ready for me as I was for her. This kind of humiliation of a man turns her on.

Of course, she wants me to do it tonight. She is the impatient type. Not me, a woman only gets one opportunity to do something for the first time. When the stars align, and the time is right, I have now rehearsed exactly what to do. I know Butler. He’ll appreciate the thought I put into this. He understands that I want it to be right for both of us.

Week Five

To help prepare Butler, I stopped allowing him to kiss me. At least, not on the lips. I’ve told him it seems improper somehow for him, as my mere servant, to be so familiar. Instead, I have encouraged him to rim me frequently. He knows what’s coming. I can see him squirm and try to bend his head around it.

Not kissing Butler is only the beginning of his discipline. I also start finding more things wrong with his almost perfect housekeeping, thus adding additional lashes during his weekly punishment sessions. During times like this, I emotionally move away from him a little and become more cold and severe.

When I act like this he knows that something is about to happen that will test him and pull him deeper into submission. He redoubles his efforts but it’s all for naught. I want him ready so I keep tightening the screws. I’ve considered carefully each step I will make in the coming days.

I’m not interested in cuckolding a man to increase his excitement. I’m not putting on a show. I have another agenda. If you are a woman who wants her sexual freedom but wants to keep her husband monogamous then, in my opinion, you have a lot of work to do. Cuckolding could destroy a man and ruin your relationship. Even if you entered into an open relationship from the beginning, a woman still has a lot of work to do to prepare a man for a cuckold lifestyle. He has to be ready. Also, I wanted this experience to be fuel to empower his path to full surrender.

Week Five

My date last night was fabulous. It started with having Butler prepare me for it. Most men have no idea what a woman goes through to put herself together for an important date. My servant knows but only because I’ve kept him under my strict tutelage for over a decade..

He keeps my clothes and shoes in a near perfect state. I didn’t have to worry about something being at the cleaners or not ironed. To keep him involved in my preparations, he touched up my nails and he curled and dried my hair. Getting ready is a bit of a production and I wanted him actively involved in all of it. He’s done this before. I’ve been out on several dates but he sensed that this one was different.

When I was finally polished and primped I had him kneel and kiss the tops of my heels. Again, this is something he has done before. I had wracked my brain on how I could make this date special. Whenever I get stuck like this I always go to my ace in the hole, Heather. After, preparing me, Butler and I came down stairs to find that Heather, who following my suggestion, had let herself in the house. She stood at the bottom of the landing smiling up at me

I could feel Butler tense. Heather frightens him a little. She doesn’t really like to see me dating other men but she kissed me on the cheek and told me that no man deserved me. She’s such a dear. I informed Butler that while I was at dinner I wanted him to make himself useful by giving Heather a manicure and pedicure. He was immediately agreeable although I know he was thinking he’d rather be locked alone in a cage. Such is a slave’s life

I chatted with Heather about my date for a few minutes and about excited I was until doorbell rang. I kissed Butler on the cheek and left knowing what Heather had in mind for him. I could hear her start in as I walked to the front of the house. I couldn’t hear what was being said but Heather can drip more scorn and haughty bitchiness in one line than the evil queen in Snow White does in the entire fairytale. I concentrated on what was before me.

I had a wonderful dinner. Sam pulled out all the stops in his ongoing program to seduce me. He was charming and full of compliments and wit while he attempted to subtly ply me with wine. Men never learn. They never ask themselves why it is on the night that they finally talk a woman into bed that she just happens to be wearing her best set of lingerie? Women decided when. This time I wanted both men dangling on the hook just a little longer before I reeled them in.

While I tried to be present with this charming young man I knew that Heather was putting the screws to Butler. Earlier, she told me something of her plans. She would make it clear to him that I had replaced him with a younger and a more virile partner. Oh, she can grind it in when she wants to do so! I had to secretly smile to myself when I thought about it. And, I admit, it was partly true. Sam is younger and more beautiful. And, I was out with him at an elegant dinner while Butler served under the lash of my evil twin. Also, later, at a time of my choosing, I was going to enjoy this young man’s sweet body. Of course, men have been betraying their wives with younger women since time began. It felt like justice to be turning things around for once.

After dinner, I allowed Sam to take me home. We arrived about the time I expected to return. I knew that Heather, per my instructions, had placed Butler where he could see and hear me say goodnight to Sam at the door. This was important to me. I have cucked Butler a couple of times but he never knew the men nor had he been required to watch. I wanted him to see the romance and heat grow between my date and me. I wanted him powerless to stop what was happening. This time when Sam and I kissed I allowed it to go on much longer. I admit it was more difficult to extract myself from his embrace this time because I wanted to stay there. I could feel his manhood pressed hard against my belly. I told him that I would have the house to myself this coming weekend. Sam understood what I was saying. After another passionate embrace, he left with a smile. I turned and entered the house.

I found Butler was on his hands and knees in the darkened hallway. Straddling him was Heather wearing a wicked smile. She is my perfect partner in crime. Apparently, she had been amused by Butler’s predicament and had spent the evening psychologically torturing him about it. I almost never try to feminize him but Heather had put him in a frilly apron to receive her manicure and pedicure. I didn’t need to use my imagination to know that she had been savaging his manhood by underlining the fact that I was out with a younger man while he was dressed like a sissy and doing her nails. Heather knew exactly what I wanted. Butler never raised his head until Heather left several minutes later.

Afterwards, I kept to the script by being completely matter of fact. If Butler was experiencing a soul searing experience I made it clear that I was only doing what seemed natural. I’m sure he wondered where he would be this weekend when I had Sam over. I knew that he would prefer anything other than to be lent to Heather. However, he was too well trained to ask. Instead, he went ahead and prepared me for bed. It had to be torture for him to undress me and carefully hang up my clothes. Was he looking for signs of possible love making? As he does most nights, he stood behind me at my vanity and brushed my hair for a few minutes. He rarely speaks during these quiet minutes while I concentrate on the delicious sensation of the brush combing through my hair. I could feel the sexual tension between us. I love it when he’s caught between being too scared to rebel and too scared to move forward. It was all unfolding just as I hoped. Later, after dismissing him to his tiny room down the hall, I slept like an innocent child.

Week Six

Butler knows he’s not going to leave no matter what I do today. He’s not going to openly refuse his cuckolding. He’s not even going to complain. He will even avoid appearing anything but enthusiastic about how he prepares the house and me for what will happen tonight. Of course, I’m more exacting than usual. I’m openly telling him that I want things nice for my new boyfriend, Sam.

I loved making him change the sheets on my bed and replacing them with the dark blue satin ones. I don’t usually watch him while he’s doing household chores but I invented a reason to be in my bedroom while he was doing that important task. I smiled when I noticed him tremble as he pulled the sheets tight.

He worked very hard all day. Both of us know why he’s so eager to please. It’s Saturday. On Saturday he faces the cane for any failures in his submission to me. He’s always a little cowed on Saturday knowing what’s coming. I’m willing, perhaps eager, to use the cane on him at the least sign of rebellion. He only has a dozen coming so he’s trying hard to avoid any additional strokes. If he receives over twenty, I always leave him in his chastity cage until the next week. He’s been out most of this week and I’m sure he’d love to stay out.

The thought that he is actually physically afraid of displeasing me floods me with a sense of accomplishment. This relationship didn’t happen overnight. It took years. Now, it’s all paying off. I told him that I invited Heather to view his discipline this evening. I know he dislikes it when she watches. He finds it humiliating. He also swears I beat him harder when she is there. I really don’t try to do so but I admit that he should know better than me. I’m sure that he thinks that because I have a date coming over tonight that I’ll be sending him home with Heather. He truly hates that because time with her is always filled with nothing but drudgery. However, I’m not sending him home to be babysat by Heather. I have something much more interesting planned. I feel like I’m floating. It’s going to be a great day.

When I started with my sub years ago I had a dream of owning an older man who adored me. I envisioned him doing all of my housework, turning over his salary to me, and lovingly supporting my sex life with other men and women. Now, it’s all happening. I didn’t know that along the way I would learn to care deeply for him but I have. Nevertheless, we’ve moved forward with my original dream. After his weekly caning, with Heather looking on and smirking, I let him know that I was not sending him home with Heather when Sam was scheduled to arrive. He looked at me with a mixed expression of relief and fear. I think it would have hurt him to remove him from the action. Nevertheless, I’m sure he was asking himself if I would humiliate him in front of my new friend? One day I will, but I had something else in mind.

I invited my friend Heather over to increase his anxiety and because I needed her help. I gave Butler the signal to follow on his knees. I led them both to my bedroom. He had carefully cleaned it to make it ready for my guest. It was his sacred place and I was about to bring another man into it. I motioned for him to crawl under the bed and lie on his back. He had on his cuffs so it was simple to run the straps that Heather brought though the buckles to pull him into a four point spread-eagle position. Simultaneously, Heather and I began ratcheting the belts so that he was stretched out under the bed. I wanted him to feel the pull of his restraints. I wanted him to feel helpless. I love these moments. During it all, Heather kept up a running banter of small talk meant to humble him. She kept suggesting things I should do like making him fluff my lover, etc. She knew that none of her suggestions were likely as the young man on the way was a vanilla stud muffin but she loves messing with Butler’s head. It only took a moment to secure and secret him behind the bed skirt

Heather and I stood across the bed from each other and realized what was about to happen. Without a word, she pulled me across the bed and began kissing me. Yikes, I almost called Sam and told him to wait. However, after a steamy moment Heather had another idea. She suddenly broke from my embrace to stand on the bed. Once up, she started jumping up and down and yelling triumphantly, “This is how it’s going to be! She’s going to fuck him right on top of you! Do you feel like an idiot yet?”

Ha! She is a force of nature. I finally got my wild child calmed down and out of the house. But, she was right. It would happen exactly like she said it would.

I left Butler to wait for Sam downstairs. He lay in restraints under the bed listening. When the bell rang, I enthusiastically greeted Sam at the door. I guessed Butler could hear our conversation from the living room. I offered drinks. No doubt, he could hear the music I played. I’m sure he lay there imagining us dancing downstairs as we had on an earlier date.

I was a little nervous when I finally led Sam into the bedroom. He’s completely vanilla and probably woudn’t be able to function if he knew he had an audience. I was afraid of him discovering Butler restrained under the bed but I shouldn’t have worried. Sam was beside himself by the time I finally brought him to my room.

I doubt the details of my straight sexual encounter with Sam would be interesting to the Fetlife reader. Sam has a beautiful body and he was an enthusiastic sex partner. I admit to gushing a bit about the thickness of his cock, which was actually about average, but I was not going to miss any obvious opportunities to humble Butler. And, if I was a little more verbal with my moaning than usual who could blame me? I was fucking two men at the same time. It was fabulous.

Sam is young so he almost ruined it by orgasming too soon. I finally got him under control and proceeded to ride him for a good long time. I never forgot what was happening under the bed. I knew that very thrust of my hips pressed against Butler’s face and into the heart of whatever male identity he has left after years of my training. However, I also knew that instead of driving him away, I had saved and strengthened my relationship with Butler because I had restrained him close to the action. Yes, it was terribly humiliating but he would see that my plan included him. He was not going to be replaced by a younger man. He would realize that his restraints meant I was keeping him close.

Finally, after I had finished with Sam and shooed him home, I came back to my room and stretched out on the bed luxuriating on what had just occurred. It felt marvelous. I knew that I would continue on this path until Butler made it part of his life work to encourage me to have as many lovers as I wanted. After a few minutes I leaned down and undid the straps. I sat in the chair in my bedroom waiting for Butler to crawl out from under the bed.

He didn’t move immediately. The room was quiet for a few minutes. I wondered if he was crying. However, after a few minutes he wiggled out from under the bed. He did not crawl to me on his hands and knees as I assumed he would. Instead, he slithered across on his belly. Occasionally, he stopped and kissed the floor. It took me a second to realize that he was kissing where I had walked. Oh, it was something to watch. When he arrived at my chair, he began to kiss my feet with passion. Then, I think he may have cried a little. We will do many other things but we will always have this moment.

After a few minutes I lifted his head and I kissed him tenderly. It was the first time I had kissed him in weeks. Without saying too much, I dismissed him from his usual night duties to return to the room I call his slave quarters. He doesn’t know it yet but tomorrow I’m going to visit him there and screw his brains out. He deserves it after proving to me, yet again, that he is the man of my dreams. However, if you don’t understand why it’s a strategic decision to have chosen his bed and not my bed to reward him in, then you don’t get me at all.

I didn’t cuck my sub for years after he committed to being my servant. I didn’t do it even after he stated that he was ready. Our relationship may have survived cucking but I wanted much more. If I had done it earlier it would have been for him. Or, it would have been him accepting my slutty or adventurous behavior. In that situation, I would be beholden to him. I didn’t want either one. I wanted his cucking to tear though him like a cleansing tide removing his last vestiges of independent manhood. I want it to nail him to the floor and convince him of his deep surrender.

If you are a woman who wants her freedom but wants her husband to stay monogamous, then consider properly preparing him for this lifestyle. Is he doing all of the housework? Have you taken control of his time? Do you apply the whip routinely? Has he spent some time in chastity? Does he truly fear your displeasure and work for your approval? Is some form of humiliation part of his weekly experience? You should tease him about it a long time before doing it. His humiliation should be a large part of his fantasy life before it becomes real. He needs to see it in his head while serving at boring tasks so cucking becomes sex for him. Only when he has surrendered every bit of pride and he is utterly hopelessly infatuated with you, should you then cuck him.

Cuckolding should fall like a ripe fruit after years of transforming him into your slave. Then it will hurt more because it will be deeper experience for him. Think in terms of years.

However, your patience will be rewarded because once you’ve arrived at your destination, you will experience a confident thrilling rush of freedom without worry. The feeling is hard to describe. I’m like a rich kid in a candy store. I can have anything I want. My suggestion is to grind slowly but grind exceedingly fine.

Our lifestyle is not for everyone. Each couple negotiates their own unique style of FLR. My way is not the only way.

At the beginning, I wanted my complete sexual freedom but selfishly, I never wanted him to have his freedom. It took years of dominating him but one day I could see that successfully cuckolding him was coming into view. What I mean by successful is that my infidelity would not fracture our life but instead serve to cement him as my submissive.

One more thing- I have cuckolded him and rubbed it in that I was free but he was not. However, I don’t tell him everything.

On purpose, I don’t allow him to question me when I leave the house about where I’ve gone or with whom. I don’t understand why a woman would give up her air of mystery. It’s a powerful tool in bringing a man to accept your wandering ways. He only knows what I choose I will tell him. I made it clear that I don’t tell him everything. I want him to wonder.

I believe that the most spiritual and intimate relationship a woman can have with a man is the relationship between a Mistress and her properly trained manservant.

I also believe that love is about knowing. Consequently, I went to great lengths to make sure that that my sub, Butler, knows me in ways that very few men ever know their wives. I was purposefully exacting about his training. For example I beat him several times for not having my bath at the right temperature. I know that sounds over the top but I forced myself to have high standards on purpose. He adored me for it.

He now keeps a thermometer in the bathroom. He understands precisely how I want him to bathe me. He remembers what soap goes where and how long to loofa my heels. Through painful lessons, he now can precisely make my tea. He expertly cares for my hair, my clothes, and my shoes. I sent him to beauty school to learn how to maintain my nails. Butler is now a certified nail technician. Again, we both agreed that nothing would be too much.

He knows me. He has memorized my coffee order, glove, dress, bra, ring, and shoe size. He can even anticipate what pair of shoes goes with what outfit so he can put out my clothes without instruction. He has been trained to buy my makeup and toiletries items so I never run out. He has memorized where everything I own goes so, should I desire, I can simply stop putting things away, knowing he will come behind me and tidy my room.

I have worked hard to teach him these skills. He wanted to learn but he did not know how hard it would be. I wanted his complete attention to detail. I cruelly whipped him one time for folding my socks incorrectly. I’ve given him endless lessons on housekeeping, laundry, and gardening, almost always accompanied with my crop. He has spent years massaging me and pinpointing my pleasure centers. He keeps up with my family birthdays and buys appropriate gifts. He can actually pack for me for a weekend trip. The study of any slave should be his Mistress. Some men think of sports or money when they are not busy but I have changed that in him. I have made myself the default mode in his brain. Even after all this time, he’s still not perfect but we keep reaching.

it took years of training but he has completely surrendered to whatever sexual desire interests me. He knows that I am attracted to other men and women. His only interest should be my pleasure. OK, I admit that it’s still hard for him but we keep working at it. Actually, when I think about it, I hope it’s always hard for him. I want him to feel jealousy and humiliation when I “betray” him. It makes it more interesting and exciting for me. He prepares me for my dates and also prepares the house and cooks when called upon. His reward is the devilish way that I tease him and humiliate him about my wandering ways. He lives for my pleasure.

One of the best things that has happened is that he no longer waits to be told what to do. He anticipates! This is such a joy for both of us. I’m an independent woman who can do everything for myself but when it rains and he magically pulls out the umbrella that he has carefully brought, it brings us both a tingle of joy. He continues to improve but I’ve decided to be hard to please. I love it when he anticipates but it’s also fun for me when he makes a mistake. He tries hard to give me the first feeling.

He has made it plain that he never wants to leave but to make me feel more secure he has carefully supplied me with a devastating blackmail portfolio and complete control over his money. He wants to feel owned. In fact, over the years, I’ve learned that he would prefer that I take something from him than for him to give it. That makes me happy because I’d much rather play the part of the demanding bitch who takes. It’s a lot more fun from me that way.

He patiently allows me to experiment with different ways to discipline him. I make it real so he tries hard to avoid my displeasure. He is not a masochist but he submits to me knowing that pain is a pathway for him to reach a deeper surrender. He sees his surrender as a spiritual journey. He meditates to my image daily. It makes me shiver to know that he actually worships me as an incarnation of the Divine.

Oh, the intimacy we have built over the last 20 years! No woman who has experienced the service of an adequately trained man would ever give it up. The more real the dominant/submissive relationship is then the more intimate and the more loving the relationship will be.

I give him the life of tumultuous feeling and sensation he craves. He returns my efforts with devotion and loving service.

I have studied him as carefully as he has studied me. I know exactly what I need to wear and say and do to drop him into deep subspace. I’m still learning just as he is. There is always something new to experience in our journey.

However, there are dangers to this life! In one of my “experiments” I banished him for a few weeks to live in a cheap apartment a few blocks from my house. I wanted him to see how empty his life was without me. I discovered something too. In only a couple of days my life was a wreck. For example, I spilled something in the kitchen and I realized that I had no idea where he stored the broom. I had a good long laugh at myself. I understand now that I am as tied to him as he is to me. Of course, that was our goal all along.

I usually spend Christmas in Florida in the house that my girlfriend, Heather, and I share. We are late going this year but tomorrow we leave for it.
My sub, Butler, and I are at a cusp in our relationship. We were in Florida all last winter where I moved him into the garage apartment at our house and introduced him, the very few times it was necessary, to our neighbors and friends, as our gardener and handyman. I present myself as a single woman living with Heather. There is a significant age difference between my sub and me. In that small coastal town, no one ever discovered or even suspected that he has been my life partner for the last 15 years.

He retired with a good pension. I like him busy so I found him work as a waiter at my tennis club during the day and as a server for a catering company in the evening. Together, he works about 40 hours a week. Of course, he turned over his small checks to me. The rest of his time he spent doing outdoor tasks such as gardening, grocery shopping and running errands.. We never allow him in house.

Last year he was often in a setting where he was a low wage older man who served while I was at lunch or at a party. He admitted it was the most embarrassing thing he has ever experienced as my submissive. (Embarrassing him makes him crazy for me!) Men that I dated in Florida frequently asked him to bring us drinks and in a completely innocent fashion treated him as a flunky. He was completely ignored. I could see his public service working on my sub’s view of himself. He started to internalize his place as a mere servant. This excited me to no end.

My female friends in Florida who noticed him working in the yard or as a waiter looked through him as if he didn’t exist. All they knew was that he worked for Heather and me as our gardener and handyman.. My friends there are mostly my age and they naturally wouldn’t be romantically interested in a man 20 years older than them who obviously was broke enough to be required to still be a food server. It took a lot of strategic planing and work but I socially demoted him. It may have been the most wicked thing I have ever done to him. He once was a successful lawyer. I made him into a low wage server. The whole experience turned me on incredibly.

Now, I simply don’t know what to do. Do I continue where we live most of the year as a couple in society or do I permanently move to Florida where he can continue to serve publicly as a mere servant? Right now we are only spending 25% of our time in Florida.

I can sense big changes coming. I think his chastity and cuckolding along with the steady physical discipline I have given him has helped make all of this possible. He never could have done this when we started. However, now we are fifteen years into his submission. We are both different people. He is ready to follow me anywhere as long as he can stay by my side. I finally have what I have always wanted, choice.

It sounds like we are moving farther apart but the whole thing has been tremendously exciting for both of us. However, be careful what you wish for. You may get it.

Last year, and I’m sure this year as well, we will continue to maintain his discipline sessions on Wednesday and Saturday. We’ve been doing this so long I feel we’d be lost without it. We have a tall privacy fence. I rarely allow him in the house so we do it in the backyard. Heather has taken an interest in these sessions and she usually watches and frequently asks to wield the crop. She is trustworthy so I allow her this pleasure.

I continue to control his orgasms. In Memphis we enjoy coitus once in a while but not in Florida while I’m living with Heather. She hates that he might orgasm inside of me. Instead, I allow him to fist himself off each Saturday if he has served well. Once in a while I arrange for him to fail.. When he does he is denied and he has to spend the following week in chastity.

Our most exciting times is when I maneuver us all into a social situation where he is a lowly server and I am enjoying myself with my social peers. I wanted to start Butler off right at his job by bringing a date to our Tennis club so he could wait on us. However, I’m at an age where most men my age are married or worthless. I don’t like to admit it but in Florida, I have trouble getting dates!

I did do one thing for Butler that might amuse you. I invited two women to lunch at the club for lunch today who I know are in the same boat as I am concerning available men. *Butler waited on us as we commiserated about the dearth of available men. The club was slow. I noticed Butler hovering politely just within earshot busying himself with clearing another table. I encouraged the women to describe the kind of man for whom they were looking. Both of these women are attractive and about my age. They both described men who were also about their own age who had professional jobs or money. I agreed with their idea of the perfect man.

They both knew Butler worked for me as a gardener and handyman. I couldn’t help bringing him into the discussion. I motion him over and spoke to him directly, “I guess you’re been hearing us complain about the lack of men. I know you’re been working the party circuit as a food server. Have you met any younger attractive professional men you can suggest?”

There it was. Here were three good looking women who were literally looking through him. He had become invisible. He was too old and obviously, with his job as a waiter, in another social class. I could see him wither in front of us. Oh, i knew what it was doing to him. I had subtly but powerfully belittled him. I knew he would start feeling uncomfortable in his cage before he could walk back to the kitchen.

I have learned over the years what moves him. I had orchestrated the moment for both of us. Despite himself, I knew he was excited by the emotional knife I had just pierced him with. Once the blade is in, it’s important to twist it. In those moments I can feel an electrical current pass between us. We still love each other. This situation lasts for two months each year. I can tell it moves us forward into our two different roles.

She walked up to him and after a brief pause kicked him in the buttocks. “Get on your hands and knees, dog!”

I relaxed. She was maintaining her posture. She continued to berate him for losing. Finally, she told him to crawl into the house and lock himself inside his dog kennel. Watching her man enter the house she turned to me beaming. “Damn, it worked just like you said it would! I will cane him later after dinner.”

I motioned Butler into the heel position which is on his hands and knees beside me. I balanced a drink on his back. He knew if it spilled I would punish him severely. I noticed that his arms were still trembling with effort. Janis and I sat and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon. Later, I questioned Butler about his victory and how he felt about it. I didn’t want him to feel manly. He told me that the entire afternoon frightened him. He knew I would find many ways to humble him. He knew it would soon be his turn. Being a member of a coven gives one ample opportunities.

He’s correct, of course.

When Butler, my submissive male, moved in with me I told him that I had sold his golf clubs but actually I secretly stored them for almost two years. Denying him golf was one of the experiences I wanted to give him when he started living as my full time servant. Later, I gave them back because I wanted him to seem that all good things come from my merciful hands. I’ve always given him spare time to pursue his own interests. I consider us a 24/7 couple but I am not interested in standing over him with a whip all day every day. I’m busy.

However, as time has passed and we have continued our various disciplines, I began to sense in him a hunger for deeper humiliations. I also want more of him. To satisfy both our desires, I returned to his hobbies to find a new lever to move him forward. He plays golf about twice a month but I have never played with him because it bores me to tears. When I work out, I want to breathe hard and sweat. Watching him, I began to see golf as a lot more about male bonding, drinking beer, and locker room talk about women. I have decided that I don’t want him involved even briefly in this male centered world.

My problem was how to take something away again in the most effective manner possible. Whenever I consider things like this I try to open the door to wild imaginings and often get over excited. I saw myself taking another lover and having him give my lover his golf clubs because my lover was now the man of the house and he was only a slave. OK, that was a little over the top. I decided that I didn’t need to go that far and I really don’t have time for all of the craziness another man would bring. I also thought about putting him in sub space and having him watch me breaking the clubs over my knees. I had almost decided on that plan but out of curiosity I looked up the cost of his clubs. Holy Crap! I had no idea! Oh, that almost made me return to the lover idea. The difference between men and boys is the price of their toys!

I wanted him reduced and sorry he ever took time to play this stupid game. I wanted to take them from him in bitchy hurtful but stimulating manner or I wanted him to want to freely relinquish his clubs to be sold. I was looking for ideas. I knew that he was ready for this. I understand him. I know when he craves to take a new step in his surrender. My problem is that I am not the all knowing, all imaginative dominatrix some of you who follow me think I am. I am merely a woman on a mission. I’ll use ideas from wherever I can find them. I was perplexed about how to remove golf from my man’s life and replace it with service to me. Take away a man’s hobbies and replacing them with scrubbing the grout in the bathroom floor and one is suddenly talking about making this life very real.

I needed something diabolical. I wanted ending golf to be more interesting than just keeping him too busy to golf or merely creating a new ‘no-golf”
rule. No, it had to hurt. He had to surrender it or it had to be taken in such an evil manner that it made his submissive heart flutter. I thought about having him caddie for women but be denied the privilege of playing. I liked the idea, but again, I find the game boring.

I told my friend girlfriend, Heather, about my challenge. She suggested that she show up for his weekly correction. He hates it when she is there. I swear I don’t try to whip him harder when I have an audience but he swears I give every swing a little more zip if Heather is in the room. I suppose he knows better than I do. Or, maybe his embarrassment makes it feel that way. I don’t know. I do know that Heather loves to watch me whip him. Today she waited until I was done. To her disappointment, it was a moderate amount as he has been a dear the previous week.

He stayed firmly tied to the bench but I could tell he tensed when Heather started talking to him. She is unpredictable. I never know what she’s going to do. She started talking to him calmly about seeing him at our local park golfing while she was running. Suddenly, she started berating him for spending time on such a selfish sport. She really lit into him, calling him names, and insulting him as only she can. She actually went into the environmental aspects of keeping a large area in short grass and the chemicals needed to keep the fairways weed free. Who knew she cared for such things?

Suddenly she left the room. I sat watching him from my throne like chair. In a few minutes, I could hear her carrying his golf bag through the house. I doubted she would break his clubs without speaking to me first so I stayed quiet.

She pulled out a driver and began talking to him about how much such a club cost. She reminded him he could have spent the money on me. Suddenly, she went over to my equipment desk and, after rummaging around, pulled out a tube of lubricant and a pair of gloves. After gloving up, she started greasing the handle of the shaft. It was clear what her intention was. Butler looked horrified but I admit that I started to laugh. Heather can really cut through a problem.

While viciously demeaning him she slipped the handle into Butler’s ass. In her haughty tone she harped, “Of course, you can continue to play golf, but I forbid you to ever clean the handle of these clubs again. I want them to smell like lube and ass juice. Also, before you play, I want you to have Renee inform me that you are planning on playing so we can go through this entire procedure again.” She lubed everyone one of them up and slipped each shaft in him as efficiently as proctology nurse on a busy shift. She gave each club a few strokes but stopped with the putter and gave him a little extra time to enjoy her administrations. During the entire time she never stopped telling him what a wimp he was for letting her fuck him with his own clubs.

Three days after our secret marriage, I found myself unloading the bags of my Mistress and her friend Ms Heather at the airport. I wasn’t surprised to see that they both carried several bags for what was to be a vacation of less than a week. I flew coach class several aisles behind their first class seats. Getting off the plane I hurried to rent the largest rental car I was able to find. Both women chatted amicably in the back seat ignoring me as I drove. If I had time to brood I guess I might have felt hurt about sharing my honeymoon but I told myself that it would be an adventure.

A few hours later found us driving through the entrance of a stunning resort in upstate New York. It’s a famous playground for the wealthy.

I knew that Ms Renee had probably received a discount from her friend in management but after seeing it I thought it was still priced beyond our usual range. When we stopped, I hopped out to help with the bags. It was unnecessary because a swarm of attendants instantly surrounded our car. Ms Renee stepped to the back of the car and pointed at my single bag.

“That one stays there.”

I couldn’t imagine why my bag was to stay in the car. Wasn’t I going to stay at the resort with them?

My training kept me quiet as I followed them into the lobby. Ms Renee checked them both in but not me. I was about to suggest that I be allowed to keep the car from being parked so that I could find a place to stay nearby when I saw the tiny hand gesture from Ms Renee that told me to follow her and remain silent.

A little confused, I followed the porters and the two women to their room. When the porter opened the door I saw it was more than a room but a beautiful one-bedroom suite with a balcony with a nice view of the mountains. I tipped the porter as he deposited the bags on the floor.

Ms Renee and Ms Heather immediately sat on the sofa. Ms Renee looked pleased with the room. She beckoned towards their luggage.

“You may unpack for us,” she sighed, leaning back and into the arms of Heather.

I carefully hung all of their clothes. I retrieved the iron from the closet and ironed anything that had wrinkled during the trip.

I could hear them reading over the leisure activities and the menu that the resort offered. I had never really understood their relationship. They were obviously lovers but had no interest in living together except for an occasional evening. I think it was because they are both dominants, and therefore not really compatible for a long-term cohabitation, much to my utter relief. I did not doubt the love that existed between my Mistress and me but I learned not to presume to restrain her from anything she wanted. Actually, I felt a little pride that I was open and accepting of their relationship even though I often burned with envy when Ms Heather stole her time from me.

Of course I was dying to ask where I would be staying but my training held. I knew Ms Renee had already decided all of that long before we left.

Soon, I found myself standing in front of them waiting in the pose my Mistress had taught me was the respectful posture of a good servant. I stood straight with my hands folded in front of me but with my head slightly tilted down.

After a few minutes of chatting and ignoring me, Ms Renee turned her attention to me.

“I guess you are wondering where you are sleeping tonight. Obviously, you can’t stay with us.”

That wasn’t obvious to me. I longed to stay with them even if I had to sleep on the floor and even if Ms Heather was present but I knew that when Ms Renee was with Ms Heather, she wants her privacy.

Ms Renee continued, “I told you that I had a friend from college, Peggy, who was the manager here. She’ll be here in a minute to show you where you’ll be sleeping. They are short staffed at this time of year so I volunteered your services as hotel staff while we are here. How do you think we were able to afford this room? You will be sleeping in the staff barracks. I’m sure you’re eager to do this for me aren’t you?”

The entire time I had been staring at Ms Renee’s shoes to keep myself focused.

A thousand replies surged through me when she asked that question and I admit that not all of them were perfectly submissive. However, I was about to reply in the affirmative when Ms Renee quickly interrupted my thoughts.

“Oh, I can tell that this is a shock and that you are not feeling immediately agreeable. Ha! Don’t worry! I’m sure that I can help you with that. Four!”

I wanted to protest that I was perfectly willing but I had painfully learned to never speak after she had given me a posture number. It was my least favorite number.

Ms Renee continued. “Actually I was hoping that I might detect a tiny struggle in you so that I could show Heather how I deal with non-submissive thoughts.”

While she was talking, she had begun walking around behind me. I could look through my legs and see the stylish black pumps that she wore.

Quietly, almost politely, she whispered, “Spread your legs.”

Trembling, I obeyed and waited, staring between my legs at her feet. She frequently pauses at this moment so I can anticipate what is about to happen. Suddenly, I saw her shift her weight and send her foot racing towards my unprotected testicles. Instantly, I convulsed flat on to the floor as the shock of the kick surged through my torso.

Hurriedly, I struggled back up to my hands and knees only to see another kick coming almost immediately. Ms Renee doesn’t need to kick very hard. It only takes a short quick movement of her foot to have me sweating and begging her for mercy. After five such taps I was begging to be allowed to help the resort staff anyway I could.

Sensing my sincerity, Ms Renee walked back in front of me. “Good,” she said smiling, “I knew I could convince you to see things my way. Peggy, or Mrs. Renault to you, should be up here any minute. She will explain your new duties. I know you’ll want to do a very good job for her.”

Trembling and sweating, I crawled forward and started kissing the pointed toes of her shoes promising that I would work very hard during my stay.

During this exchange, Ms Heather had sat unmoving on the couch. She had rarely seen Ms Renee discipline except for a few sessions with the riding crop. I was unable to see her but I heard a sharp intake of breath after the first kick. I saw her out of the corner of my eye looking with wonder at Ms Renee as I continued to kiss her feet.

Ms Renee left me on my knees and disappeared into her room for a minute. She returned, carrying a paper bag in her hand and handed it to me. Inside, I found a comb, a toothbrush, one pair of briefs, one pair of socks, and one disposable razor.

“See, I’ve thought of your needs while we are here,” she smiled.

She stood looking down at me as if gauging my emotions for a second. As if by cue, there was a knock on the door. Ms Renee motioned me to stand. My face was flushed and my legs still felt rubbery when I opened the door for her friend.

Ms Renault was a tiny slender blonde with very short hair dressed in a dark severe looking business suit.

She glanced inquiringly at me then jumped into Ms Renee arms. I don’t know how she does it but women love Ms Renee even more than men do. I wondered at their relationship. It was all friendly hugs and kisses now. She met Ms Heather and I could tell that the three of them would have fun together.

Finally, Ms Renee introduced me. “This is Butler. I know, it’s funny, but it really is his name. He’s ready to go with you now. You told me that you supplied work clothes so he doesn’t have a suitcase. I understand you’ll need him for both shifts so I doubt he’ll need a change of clothes for any free time activities.”

Again, I received an appraising glance from Mrs. Renault. She turned her back to me and the women chatted for a few more minutes while I stood quietly to one side.

After the goodbyes, I found myself following Mrs. Renault at a very brisk pace through the hotel. From looking forward to a relaxing vacation I had been lent as a domestic servant. Instead of a nice room, I would be sleeping in a staff barracks. My head was still spinning as I struggled to keep up with my new employer. She stopped several times and spoke with staff about practical matters. I stood behind her patiently while she went through what I assumed were routine chores.

I never know how much Ms Renee tells others of our relationship. It is something I frequently dread. I could tell that Mrs. Renault was curious about me but too polite to ask questions. I thought we were headed to her office but before we got there we took a turn on a staircase and descended down to the basement of the hotel. The resort has a main building that was built in the early 1900’s. It is a beautiful place with a huge elaborate lobby. The basement is reserved for staff quarters. I was led into the tiny cluttered office of the housekeeper. She was an older German sounding woman who looked at me with surprise. There were two other women in the room, punching a time clock.

Ms Renault introduced me. “Mrs. Weiss, this is Butler, a….”, and here there was a slight pause, “a ‘domestic’ who works for one of our guests. She has agreed to loan him for a few days during our staff shortage. He’s off the books so you won’t need to give him a time card.” Mrs. Weiss smiled and shook my hand.

“I have a schedule made out for him. It’s full but he’s only here for a few days. I understand he has agreed to work double shifts. You can have him for the first part of the day. Introduce him to Leslie in the kitchen and Sadie on the night crew.” With that she was gone.

After she left, Mrs. Weiss introduced me to the cleaning crew who were the two women leaving work. They were two local girls who worked full time for the hotel. Jennie and Ashley were both short, stocky women who looked like they shared a taste for junk food. They were obviously close friends.

I would spend my days with them but I would never grow comfortable around them. Other than constantly telling me to hurry, they rarely spoke to me. When I was introduced to them they acted as if I was going to be more of a hindrance than any help.

My day was full from early to late. Every year after the college students who support the staff during the peak season leave for school, the hotel has a serious labor shortage for the remaining warm days of summer. Most of the year-round staff works overtime during this period. It was clear that my services were needed.

My schedule began at 8 AM when I helped Jennie and Ashley clean rooms. This lasted until 4 PM. I noticed the next morning that I was assigned to Ms Renee’s room. Knowing her standards, I always spent more time on her room. This irritated the other members of the cleaning crew at first. Then, later they became amused by it. Apparently, Ms Renee had negotiated every minute of my day before we arrived. After leaving the cleaning crew, there was a lull in my day from 4 PM until 5PM when I reported to the restaurant to bus tables and wash dishes until 9PM. Finally at 10 PM, I spent two hours buffing floors after most of the guests had retired.

Most of what I had been chosen to do was the lowest level type of work. Again, I felt the influence of my Mistress. I went from one task to another all day. It was grueling work. I’m in my fifties and even with the schedule Ms Renee keeps me to I am not used to staying on my feet until late at night, especially night after night. None of my supervisors, who were all women, seemed the least bit interested in talking to me. I suppose all of them assumed that if a man was still doing such grunt work at my age, he probably had something wrong with him. They merely wanted to extract the most work out of me that they could during my short stay. There were still a few young people there who had late school starts or were taking a semester off. They treated me like I had a contagious disease, especially the young women.

The staff had small dingy rooms in the sub- floor of the hotel. Normally I would have had to share a room with a fellow worker but because they were so short staffed I had it to myself. That was helpful because it would have been mortifying to explain the cock cage that Ms Renee had left me in for our five days there.

The staff rooms did not have baths. There was a common restroom and shower down the hall. As is usual for men’s showers, we were not given separate stalls. There was simply a large shower room. The first morning I went to shower I realized that I would be seen by my fellow workers all under the age of twenty-two. I skipped the shower. Later, after my double shift, I found that I was able to shower late at night without any of the other male staff there.

For the first 24 hours I barely saw Ms Renee and Heather. I caught a glimpse of them at dinner while I was busing tables.

I had been told by my supervisors not to talk to guests unless they initiated conversation. They smiled and waved at me from their table but I knew not to bother them.

On the second, day during my 4pm break, Ms Weiss asked to report to the pool. She told me that my Mistress needed me. At first I was shocked that she had used the word “Mistress” but I quickly realized it was simply the everyday word she used for a female employer.

“You are to wear this,” Mrs. Weiss said as she handed me an ugly brown bathing suit about twice my size. I assumed that the suit had been left by a guest and ended up in the lost and found. I could tell she was not pleased about something. I would realize later that she simply objected to me being given the privilege of mingling with guests with some equality even on a temporary basis. I stopped in the staff restroom and changed out of the brown livery that all the staff wore. I walked back through the servants exit towards the pool.

It is a lovely setting. It is surrounded by natural rock and has a bar running down one side. I admit I had wished I had been placed there. The duty was light as a bartender and one could look at women in bathing suits all day. Again, I felt the unseen influence of my Mistress. I spent most of my time in the kitchen and cleaning empty rooms. I noticed Ms Renee and Ms Heather in a prime partially shaded location lying in lounge chairs

I approached their chairs. I simply didn’t know how to act. This was the woman I would jump through hoops for and she had banished me, on my honeymoon, to the kitchens for the last forty-eight hours. I felt misused, lonely, tired, humiliated, and confused. She had not seen me yet. She was lying on her stomach facing away from me. As I watched her, she unconsciously stretched like a sleek cat in the sun. Her skin looked delicious. I could see the carefully trained muscles in her back and thighs. Suddenly, every negative thought I had was swept away by her simple unconcerned pleasurable movement. She captivated me. All I wanted to do was to be allowed to touch her.

Sensing my presence she turned to look up at me. “Hello Butler,” she said in a mocking tone.

I wanted to complain to her and at the same time throw myself at her feet to beg to be allowed to stay in her presence. She saw all of the conflicting emotions moving through me. She smiled again,

“I understand from Mrs. Weiss that you normally have a break at this time before you report for dinner duty. Heather and I thought it would be best to help fill your time. We want you to report here at 4 PM each day to give us each a massage.” She raised one eyebrow quizzically. “Would you like that?”

She didn’t bother with an answer. She turned over and said, “The lotion is in my bag.”

Robotically, I sat down in the chair beside her and reached for the lotion. I still didn’t know which of the contending emotions in me was preeminent. When I’m confused like this I have learned to put myself on automatic and perform whatever chore she has for me and wait for whatever feeling emerges. I was in turmoil while I removed the lotion. I dripped a few drops in my hand and reached to touch her back. The smell of the lotion and the slick feel of her skin quickly brought me to the place where I could forget myself. I felt every emotion drop away other than the desire to please her. Soon, she started to softly moan under my ministrations. I could feel myself painfully swell inside my cock cage. Desperately, I tried to think of anything to prevent a painful erection. I thought of the piles of nasty dishes and miles of unpolished floors that still awaited me. Of course, nothing helped. By the time I was through with her massage I didn’t think I could stand upright. I looked longingly at the cool water of the pool.

Ms Heather is a rail thin woman who somehow is still curvy. I hesitated to touch her. The truth is that dislike and mistrust her but I had no choice. She didn’t speak to me or look at me during the massage but would occasionally point to a spot she wanted me to spend more time on. After thirty minutes of work she seemed to be drifting off to sleep. The discomfort in my crotch had only grown worse. I thought about how good the pool might feel.

I looked over at my Mistress who was watching me massage Ms Heather. “The pool is for the guests, Butler,” she snapped almost telepathically. “Be here at four tomorrow.”

With that, she looked away. She was through with me and I had to hurry if I was to be on time for my next assignment. I slowly stood up. It was painful in my tight cock cage. I noticed that Ms Renee had turned back to watch me. She laughed softly when she saw how difficult it was for me to stand straight up. As soon as I was able to stand, she turned away again.

I struggled through my chores for the rest of the day. My emotions continued to swing from feeling lucky to feeling mistreated. At the end of the day I was too exhausted to feel much of anything. Nevertheless, I crept in the bed feeling very alone and very sorry for myself. Had I allowed myself to go too far down this path? It was my own fault. I knew the nature of Ms Renee when we started.

The next morning while cleaning the rooms I started noticing that some of the staff were treating me differently. In such a small community word travels quickly. Apparently, my stint as a masseuse at the pool had been noticed and commented on. Some of the young men who worked there actually spoke to me. I noticed that the young women were eyeing me speculatively. I’m sure they were curious about how I had been chosen and allowed to perform such special duties for two guests in the pool area.

That afternoon, Ms Renee saw me coming and simply rolled on to her back. It was like I had been doing it for months. Ms Heather was almost talkative. She told me how much fun they had horse back riding the previous day.

When I was done Ms Renee simply said, “Tomorrow, same time.”

Nothing would get me used to touching these two women in my chastity device. I left with a hot cramped raw feeling that I’m sure changed the way I walked. I could feel Ms Renee’s amused eyes on me as I shuffled away.

That evening when I was finishing washing dishes one of the servers, a young woman who had never spoken to me before, helped me pull the last of the garbage out to the bins behind the kitchen. We stood next to the dumpster for a second appreciating the much cooler air. She was tall and thin with dyed black hair, acne scars, and a row of tattooed Chinese characters snaking up one side of her arm. She stood beside me and asked, “Aren’t you a little old for this?”

I really didn’t know what to say so I stayed silent, looking toward the ground.

She continued, “I’ve been asking about you. One of the bellmen told me that you came here with the women you massage each day at the pool. Do you work for one of them?”

I looked across the asphalt hoping for an answer. Finally I managed to mumble, “Yes.”

She snorted, “I doubt it. I saw how you were touching the brunette when you were massaging her at the pool. You’re no butler, no way. I know what heat looks like between two people when I see it. I also know what a submissive man looks like when I see one. That’s what you are. You’re a slave.”

She looked sideways at me and grinned. I was unable to answer her. Embarrassed, I merely looked down at my shoes again. She turned to go but as she passed she reached behind me and pinched me hard on my buttocks. I was shocked and stayed frozen in place as she walked off. I heard her laugh as she went through the door.

All I wanted to do was get to my room after my humiliating encounter with her. I finished the floors that night silently wondering if the word “slave” was somehow stamped on my forehead.

Later in the shower, standing in the spray almost asleep, I heard someone enter the bath area. I snatched my towel off of the rack and quickly wrapped it around myself before turning around. It was one of the guys who ran the concession at the tennis courts. He had never spoken to me other than to grunt hello. Now, he seemed almost chatty. He told me hello and asked how I liked the hotel. After a while he realized that I was not in the mood to talk so he finally wandered off. I could not tell if he had seen my chastity cage or not.

The two young women who cleaned rooms with me were being especially slow the next day. I kept hearing them whisper to each other. I tried to focus on my job and avoid any eye contact. We still had two rooms to do when they suddenly announced that they were taking a break. It was after 3pm. I needed to finish to be able to be at the pool by 4pm. I protested that we weren’t done. One of them looked at the other and they both looked at me. Jennie stared at me and threw the towel she was holding into the laundry basket. Ashley laughed and said, “We don’t have to be anywhere special at four. Do you?” Both of them laughed hysterically as they walked off.

I rushed through the rooms but I was unable to be there at 4pm. I ran to the pool after changing only to find them already gone.

I couldn’t stay in the pool area without them so I returned to my room and redressed in the brown employee livery. I realized that I had worked all day for the moment when I was able to touch her. Without those minutes, my existence seemed empty.

Later that evening, I passed Ms Renee and Ms Heather in the restaurant with my bus cart. They were having dinner with Ms Renee’s hotel friend, Ms. Renault.

All three of the women looked at me with a penetrating and knowing look.

It seemed obvious that Ms Renee was telling Ms Renault my true place in her household. I hurriedly continued on with my cart.

By now, it seemed the rumor mill had spread the guesses about me to several of the service staff. I had trouble doing my own work as several of the female staff kept asking me for help. Before, I had not existed, now I seemed like I was everyone’s personal assistant.

Finally the evening ended. I was sitting in my room when I heard heels clicking down the linoleum floor outside my room. I assumed it was one of the night managers because none of the service staff wore heels. I looked up to find Ms Renee and Ms Heather at my doorway. They were still dressed for dinner. They looked like what they are, well tended upper middle class women with a fashionable sense of style. I was dressed in dirty work clothes that smelled of grease and suds from the kitchen. I immediately started to stand when Ms Renee gave me the hand signal meaning she wanted me on my knees. “So, this is where the help lives,” she said. “It’s not much to look at but I could have left you in your cage at home.”

They both glanced around the shabby undecorated room. There was nothing in it but two single beds crammed into the tiny space and two small battered dressers.

“I hope you are grateful for the bed. I’m quite put out with you today. We both missed our massages. I plan on punishing you later for it. I talked to Mrs. Weiss. She said you had more rooms than normal but that excuse won’t work for me. It’s up to you to work faster.”

I was unable to say anything. Finally, I choked out, “I’m sorry Ms Renee. Please, I’m ready to go home now.”

“Oh, you are? Good, I wanted you to have an experience that taught you how easy you have it at home. I think I was successful. You may thank me.”

I knew what she wanted. I bent and started kissing her shoes until I felt her scoot her feet away.

In a husky whisper Ms Renee continued, “I don’t know if staying here is changing how you see yourself but it’s changing how I see you.”

I returned to the kneeling position and gazed up at her. She kept looking at me and at the squalor of the tiny room. For a moment no one said anything.

Eventually, Ms Heather slipped her hand around Ms Renee’s waist and kissed her on the neck. “He’s where he belongs. Let’s go.” Without another look she turned from me to follow Ms Heather. I listened to their heels click down the hallway. Even though I was exhausted, it was a long time before I slept.

The next day was my last full day. Jennie and Ashley did as little as possible. They continued to laugh at what they thought was a private joke but I could imagine what was being said about me. The day seemed to stretch forever but luckily we had fewer rooms to do than usual.

I showed up early for my 4 pm appointment at the pool. While I was rubbing Ms Renee’s legs the two women started discussing how much fun they were having.

My Mistress eagerly commented about loving her suite and enjoying the room service for breakfast.

Ms Heather responded, “Our suite is nice but, yuck, that pit Butler is staying in is horrible. I wouldn’t put a dog in it, but I guess it’s good enough for him.” I glanced up at her but she only avoided my gaze as if I weren’t there.

She continued at some length about what a relaxing time they were having and how nice they found the hotel. The entire conversation continued as if I were not there even though it clearly served to humiliate me further. I finished with Ms Heather. As I stood up I noted that Ms Renee turned over again to watch me as I tried to walk away bowing a little at the waist to relieve the pressure from my cage.

The rest of the day I concentrated on my work and tried to keep a low profile. I’d been embarrassed by Ms Renee many times but I had never had to endure such continual stares and whispers from so many for such a long time. I crept into my room after having washed my torso in the sink after my shift not wanting to make a spectacle of myself in the shower. I lay in bed for a long time considering my life as Ms Renee’s slave and how much my situation continued to change. I finally fell asleep wondering how far she would take us.

Finally it was Sunday morning. I put on my street clothes and arrived at Ms Renee’s room at 9 am. They were already up and dressed. They were breakfasting on an elegant room service. I said my good mornings and quietly assumed the ready position.

Ms Renee spoke first.

“You were late the day before yesterday so Heather and I had to do without our massage. I have not forgotten. Four!” They ignored me while they finished the last of their coffee.

A few minutes later she left the room and returned with two riding crops. I had only packed one. She beckoned to Ms Heather to stand behind me. She placed the crop on my buttocks and began describing the places it was safe to hit me. She told her to avoid the spine and showed her the sweet spot about half way down the buttocks. Soon they were taking turns whipping me on either side of my buttocks.

I was soon grunting and writhing trying to maintain my position. All of the pain and humiliation of the last five days was burned into my soul as they seared my backside. It was Ms Renee’s unrelenting attitude to treat me like a servant that finally broke me. Finally, at that moment I started feeling like what I’m sure she wanted me to feel. I knew that I was her slave to do with as she pleased. At that moment I didn’t expect mercy. I expected to experience only those things that pleased her or made her feel more secure about our relationship. I was broken and I knew it. I had no more power to resist. All I had the energy to do was to refrain from yelling loudly so as not to embarrass my Mistress.

When they stopped it grew quiet. I didn’t need to turn my head to know that they were kissing.

There was a pause and some whispering and Ms Heather left the room. Ms Renee kept stroking me lightly with the crop. I knew to remain in position four until I was told to move but I was a sweating trembling wreck.

“You’ve done well Butler but I’m not done with you yet.”

She stroked me lightly with the crop.

“You think that this week has all been about my needs. That would be wrong. It was also about your needs as well. You needed to see yourself as I do. Think back about how you felt when Heather and I came to visit you in your room. How were you dressed? Where were you sleeping? I’ll tell you. You were dressed as a servant and living in a servant’s quarters.”

She lightly tapped my testicles with the crop.

“How did it feel? I want you to remember that feeling. I’m determined that you understand your place. Life will keep getting worse for you until I’m convinced that you see yourself as I see you. You must realize that you belong to me and that I can use you anyway I see fit. You want to please me don’t you?”

“Yes, Goddess, please!” I managed to stammer. I was still on my hands and knees. I desperately wanted to please her but I was not prepared for was what I saw when I glanced backwards between my legs.

Ms Heather was tottering in on a pair of her highest heels. Suddenly, I knew what was about to happen. Seeing her in those heels meant that the kicking I had received at the beginning of the week was an inevitable part of a deeper plan. It didn’t matter that I had been slightly hesitant about being used at the hotel. She would have found another reason to kick me. I had suffered so that Ms Heather could experience something new as a present from my Mistress. I was being used as a target for her friend’s enjoyment. A heard a deep groan and realized that it had come from me.

Ms Renee softly spoke to Ms Heather. “After seeing me do it, you said that the idea of kicking a man in the balls turned you on. Go ahead, its what he’s here for and its what he deserves for letting us treat him like a slave.”

My Mistress moved closer to Ms Heather to steady her. I heard her instructing Ms Heather. “It doesn’t take much force but give it a sharp little flick of your foot.”

After a moment I saw one of her stiletto heels pull back and, with a tiny hesitation, fly into my scrotum. Again, the nauseating pain exploded into my belly. Somehow, I remained in position.

“I think you should do it one more time to make sure you experience it fully,” my Mistress commented encouragingly.

Again, I saw and felt the toe of the heel flash into my testicles. I guess I blanked out for a second because I found myself flat on the floor. I could hear them giggling. Then, except for my heavy breathing, the room was quiet for a few minutes. They were kissing again.

After a few moments, Ms Heather returned to the bedroom to change her shoes leaving me alone with Ms Renee. She looked down at me and softly spoke, “Two!” I struggled up on my knees looking into her face. She had never looked more beautiful. “You’ve done well, slave. You keep proving to me that I’m on the right track with your training.”

“Now finish our packing and bring the bags down to the lobby. Heather and I will be in the bar waiting.”

I felt her hands gently wipe some moisture from my face that I did not know was there until she touched me. Had I been crying?

Then making eye contact with me again, she said, “Oh, I haven’t forgotten that it’s Sunday. Your weekly discipline is over. If you get through the rest of the day without any mistakes there will be a reward for you this evening.” She looked into my eyes giving me the promise of love. Then she whispered one more word that made the entire week worth it, “Husband.”

She had tortured, ignored, and humbled me all week. And, it had turned her on. Every bit of it had worked for her. I could see it in her eyes. My suffering and humiliation had stimulated her. She wanted to be home with me as soon as possible. I was in a bit of a panic knowing what it took to excite her but the thought of making love to this dangerous sensual woman was almost more than I could stand. Again, I remonstrated with myself that I was getting in over my head but I simply couldn’t help it. I was drawn too powerfully to her. To make matters worse it seemed that the more she asked of me the easier it was to fall under her spell.

Ms Heather returned and they swept from the room arm in arm but not before Ms Renee shot one more meaningful look my way.

Her look got me moving as soon as the door closed. My body moved painfully but I forced myself to finish packing perfectly but quickly. I thought, at least it was over even though the staff would remember me forever. Thankfully, the hotel was out of her price range. No doubt, this had been a special honeymoon experience for Ms Renee to push us to another level while at the same time enjoy some time with Ms Heather. Now, I was going home with the promise of love. I arrived in the bar with a flushed face, unsteady legs, and red-rimmed eyes but my heart was racing at the thought of our homecoming.

I found both of them and Mrs. Renault having a drink at a quiet corner of the bar. The women barely acknowledged me as I stood by their table.

They were three perfectly coiffed women relaxing together. I noted their carefully chosen clothes and their expensive shoes. I could smell their perfume. Their polished nails gleamed against the glasses of their Champagne Mimosas. All three of them knew of my utter surrender. The gathering had the feel of a celebration.

Mrs. Renault continued what she was saying, “I enjoyed your company this week Renee. You really should plan on coming at the same time every year except next time I wish you would stay longer. I’m certain that we could work out the same arrangement about your room price if you brought Butler.” Here she stopped and looked at me laughing. She was asking a question that she was confident she already knew the answer to. Their eyes briefly glanced at me.

Ms. Renee raised her glass regaining their attention. Smiling victoriously she offered her toast, “Next year!” Their glasses joyfully clinked together.

That sound echoed through my soul. I looked at my Goddess. She was complete and secure in her victory over me. She had never looked more beautiful. Her empowerment had made her even more desirable. No other woman would ever be able to match her. I felt enormously privileged to be in her service. It felt like we had both won some kind of victory. To stand there, waiting for her next command, seemed to be the goal of the last few years of my life. I was free of my own desires. It no longer mattered what I wanted. I was her servant. I knew I would come back year after year if she wished it. I only wanted to be near her.”