Tell Me What You Want Ch. 04

[Author's note: Hector has signed a contract with his wife Lotte to enter into 24/7 slavery under total female control. He expected to add a sexy new dimension to their bedroom games, but he soon realises just how serious about a Female-Led Relationship his Domme wife is. Then she reveals that her best friend is also in on his little secret, agreeing to train and subjugate him on behalf of his wife. Both women are determined that he will be conditioned into total obedience.

Contains themes of consensual female-led-relationship, impact play. If femdom is not your thing, please browse my other stories for something more to your taste.]

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PERSONAL DEVELOPMENT

Hector sat in silence in the passenger seat next to his wife, staring at the front door to Bea's house, his face like stone.

"Something to say?" Lotte asked.

Hector nodded, still looking straight ahead.

"Do you want your speaking privileges back?"

Hector nodded again, turning to his wife. She gave him a sweet smile.

"You may speak freely, Heck."

The use of his name told him they were in familiar mode, he wasn't required to respond deferentially. This was to be a conversation between husband and wife, not slave and owner.

"Why, Lotte?"

"Why not?"

"I thought, when you said we were going away, I thought you meant we were going somewhere for the weekend."

"With you dressed like that? Where would we be going Heck?"

"I thought this was just a mindfuck, that you had a suitcase packed in the back. I saw the charge on the credit card for the spa. I thought it would be lovely to just get away."

"We are, just not to the same place. I'm having my nails done and getting a massage, and you're going to be here."

"I thought we were going to be somewhere together, just the two of us," Hector repeated, lamely.

"Ah."

"Yeah. I've signed the contract for you. I took my punishment without protesting, even though I've been barely able to sit down all day. I thought we were going to have some 'us' time."

Hector studied his wife's reactions, hoping his honest request was evident in his face. He'd done the hard things, signing away his rights to her, letting her cane him until she was satisfied with his obedience. Sitting in the passenger seat naked under his trenchcoat with nothing more than collar, ankle and wrist cuffs on, he'd been expecting now to indulge in the other side.

"I want to pamper you, Lotte. We can be naked all weekend, I'll do everything you like."

He'd made a good pitch, and he could see the words hit their mark. His wife shifted in the driver's seat. Hector pressed his advantage.

"Jus say to Bea that there's a change of plans, Lotte. I'll give you a wonderful weekend."

He fell silent, waiting for his wife to acquiesce. She regarded him levelly.

"Us," she said, and Hector frowned.

"You signed the contract for us, Heck, not for me. You wanted me to do all this to you."

"Uh, I, yeah, sure, us," Hector corrected himself, not sure where Lotte was going. "But, I don't think sending me off to Bea for the weekend is what either of us want, Lotte. Is it?"

"Oh, Heck," Lotte sighed, her face softening, and his hopes rose.

"Is it?" Hector echoed.

"Is this about that scene at lunchtime?"

Hector's eyebrows rose. "What?"

"Bea told me how awful you were to her at lunch. Is it the idea of being under Bea's control all weekend? I didn't arrange her to get the promotion, Heck. She didn't know she was going to get promoted either. So, she's now in charge at work and all of a sudden you're desperate to not get out of the car."

"Lotte, that's not fair."

"What you said to her wasn't fair."

"Seriously? You're on her side? That was my path to promotion and I got passed over. That's a pay rise for me, more income for us. All because Claire wanted to maintain gender diversity with her replacement."

He felt the anger and the disappointment rising again, and tried to calm himself. He could feel the chance of spending a sexy weekend get-away with his wife beginning to slip away.

"Seems like a strong, confident female has chosen to help another confident and capable female smash the glass ceiling," she remarked coolly, "Over the protestations of incumbent males."

"Over your male, Lotte. It's extra money not going into our bank account. Ours, Lotte."

"It's the step up that Bea desperately needed."

His wife was watching his reaction closely, challenging him to take it further. He could sense trouble ahead if he continued, but he needed to make his wife understand.

"It's what I needed too, Lotte. I've slogged my guts out, and now Bea has my job. You really want to just abandon me with her rather than be with me for the weekend? You want to inflict that on me? You'd seriously rather do this than us having the entire weekend to play together?"

Lotte folded her hands primly in front of her, giving Hector the distinct impression that he'd said enough, and it was time to hear his judgement. With an effort, he rained his temper in, letting his wife speak.

"Okay, I'm going to take your points in order, and you're going to listen very closely, Heck. First, it's not our bank account."

"Come again?"

"You signed the contract. The moment the ink dried, you became my possession. Agreed?"

Her eyes flashed, narrowing shrewdly. Hector had the unpleasant feeling that he was about to be led through the maze to the prize at the end, and it wasn't necessarily the prize he had been expecting.

"Agreed?" she prompted.

"Leave aside the contract," Hector fired back. "It's still our money. We both contribute to the bank account. I'm talking actual, real things. I can't believe you're on her side over your own husband."

Lotte considered his reaction for a moment, and then relented. She sighed.

"What's wrong?" Hector asked.

"Nothing."

"No, tell me."

She stared at him in silence for several long moments, her face unreadable. Hector felt the nerves buzzing in his tummy as he waited for his wife to speak.

"You're not taking any of this seriously, Heck."

"I, uh, wait...."

"I thought this is what we both wanted, twenty-four seven. You have no idea how I feel about this. It's just all about you, isn't it?"

"I do, Lotte."

"Do you? Really?"

Her eyes flashed, revealing the depth of her emotions.

"I've dreamed about this, Heck, for the longest time. Ever since I was a girl. When I found you, that night in the bar, when we just clicked, and after, you know what?"

"What?"

"I couldn't believe my luck, that I'd found you. That I'd found someone to share it all with, who wouldn't think I was weird or pushy or a freak. The contract is just a toy to you, Heck, but it's not to me. It's my life."

"Wait, hold on, I never said it was just a toy, Lotte."

"That's how you're treating it. I'm trying to take the next step in our lives, and I thought we were on the same page, Heck. I mean, we literally signed the same page."

Lotte fell silent, glaring at him. He could read her expression now, but it wasn't anger, or even frustration: it was disappointment.

"I love you, Heck. I love you so much and I thought this was what you wanted too, a new life."

She reached out, taking his hand, gripping it fiercely.

"Tell me what you want," she said.

Hector found himself lost in her eyes, seeing the question behind the question, the surfacing of something vast and deep inside his wife. She exposed her innermost self only very rarely, and she was opening herself up now, fully, in the car in the driveway of her best friend's house. Lotte was waiting for him to give her the answer she wanted. Hector knew there was only one answer she would accept, and as the seconds ticked by, his resolve crumbled. He realised that he wasn't going to stand up for himself, tell her this was all too much, put his foot down. Hector took a deep breath and let his wife win.

"I want this," he told her. "I love you too."

Lotte's face lit up and she leaned towards him, kissing him fiercely on the lips. When she pulled back, she was grinning in triumph.

"Now, where were we?" she beamed.

He'd done it again, let his wife outmanoeuvre him. His chance to change the course of the discussion slipped through his fingers.

"You were taking me through the finances," he replied in a monotone.

Lotte nodded, regaining a measure of composure. He watched her expression change as she asserted herself again. It took her a few moments to regain control of her emotions, to resume her role as his owner and fold away the vulnerable face she had exposed to him. When at last she spoke again, it was business-like. They were back on script.

"So, as I was saying, the contract means that you voluntarily entered into an agreement to become my possession. It follows that as my possession, everything you own I now own, right? You following where I'm going here, Heck?"

"Uh huh."

"So, the finances pass over to me. I've already changed the banking passwords over. I'll arrange a weekly transfer so that you have enough for incidentals. Can't have you not being able to fill up the car, can we? That really would make you late for work."

She smiled as she spoke, relishing every word. Her cheeks began to colour and Hector realised that the very thought of taking away his ability to fend for himself was getting her hot.

"Second, you're not going to lose your job. All you need to do at work is make sure Bea's happy with your performance."

"So, she's in charge of me at work? I mean, beyond just being my boss?"

"I hadn't thought about going that far, but let's see after this weekend. Oh, that would be amazing wouldn't it? Solves a problem."

Hector hesitated to ask, "What problem?"

"The twenty-four seven thing. I can ensure you have the required mindset at home, but there's always that chance that you regress when you're away from home and slip into your usual habits. Two steps forward at night and then one step back during the day. If Bea's in charge of you at work, we can cover all the bases. It would be properly twenty-four seven."

She grinned at him sexily. Hector knew how much the idea had turned her on. His life was about to get a whole lot stranger. There had always been that idea in the back of his mind that his slave status would have to be limited to his home life, that there'd always be that reprieve at work. The prospect of Bea keeping him under her thumb during office hours would grant him no respite. He'd have to commute between his house and his work, half an hour twice a day where he was allowed to just be Hector again. He hadn't imagined he'd have to endure this extra constraint, and he cursed himself for ever bringing it up. He'd hammered that nail into his coffin himself.

"Finally," Lotte announced, "I do need to give you to Bea for the weekend. Quite apart from the fact that I'd promised her and she's donated her entire weekend to training you, we talked it all over and agreed."

Another sly, sexy smile.

"She's looking forward to it, she told me. She wants to see what she can make you do. I'm so proud of her, she's really spreading her wings."

"But, wouldn't you like to train me yourself, instead? You don't need to turn me over to Bea."

His words sounded wheedling where he had wanted them to sound convincing, weak instead of reasonable. The prospect of the cute, petite woman he had always enjoyed spending time with now becoming his owner filled him with a twisted dread. He'd thought it through in the car all the way home from the office, teasing apart the bitter disappointment of getting passed over in favour of her, separating out the fact that Bea had joined in the humiliation of having him bent over the kitchen countertop and caned. Behind it all was a little hole that had appeared in his life, and it had cut him to the bone.

Lotte hadn't intended it, he was sure. Bea hadn't either, but the hole was there now. Bea stepping into the role of his boss at work and now his wife's delegate, his de-facto slave owner, had created a distance between them. Even when Lotte was being her most intransigent, he'd always go to Bea and be able to talk to her. He'd found over the years that he was able to confide in her, trust her even with discussing the rough parts of his marriage. In time, it had blossomed into something deeper, to the point that he felt like he could tell her anything.

That was the little secret, that he'd seen it in Bea's eyes too, that closeness. When Bea had hit rock bottom as her marriage to Brent fell apart, Bea had relied on Hector, looked up to him. He'd been there for her. More than that, on one particular night. Bea had looked up at him and her eyes had asked a question, her lips soft and waiting, and he'd refused because it was the right thing to do for all of them. He had kept Bea's lapse secret from his own wife because Bea hadn't been thinking clearly, and they had moved past it. They had proven they could keep each other's confidences.

That door was now locked, at the point where he needed it the most. He wanted to talk through what was happening to him, but the person he most wanted to confide in had been turned into his controller. Worse than that, all those little unforgiveable things he'd said to Bea about his wife's nature, he had to assume she'd shared with Lotte. He'd been confiding in her, but Bea and Lotte had been working together on him all this time. He'd been so stupid.

"She's agreed to train you for the weekend. We talked it through and it's the best approach in the early stages. You need someone who isn't me, but who I trust implicitly to keep up the training. Someone you don't expect to have any hold over."

"I don't seem to have any hold over you, that's for sure," Hector said, sounding more bitter than he intended.

He hesitated, aware of his tone, acutely conscious of his wife's ability to turn, her mood shifting like mercury. But, she didn't lock down the conversation and command him to silence like he half-expected.

"That's right, and that was the point of signing the contract. It's an acknowledgement that you have no hold over me, but, Heck, that's just it. You still believe you do. Even now, dangling the carrot of the weekend away, topping from the bottom. You need to learn where you now are. If you're as serious about this change as I am, you need to understand that it's not acceptable."

She shrugged and put her hand on the door handle. Hector realised that the conversation was ending.

"Bea isn't subject to the same pressures. She doesn't have to love you."

"Like you do?"

Lotte's hand paused on the door. She turned back to her husband slowly.

"What does that mean?" she asked. "I just told you I love you, Heck. Do you really think I'd be doing this if I didn't care deeply about us?"

"Then let's go away for the weekend, Lotte, just us. You don't have to give me to Bea."

His wife sighed heavily and then she opened the car door.

"You just proved my point, Heck. That's why I need Bea to take the reins for a while. We're never going to get anywhere at this rate. Come on, out."

Lotte got out of the car and closed the door behind her, leaving Hector in silence. He watched her walk up to Bea's front door, then turn to look at him, her hands on her hips, waiting. Clearly, her mind was made up. Reluctantly, Hector got out of the car and walked up to his wife. She gave him a little smile, but her expression was careworn.

"Think of it as a personal development course, darling. You've been on those before. This one is just a little more personalised," she told him and gave him a small kiss. "Are you ready? Or do you want to call everything off?"

She waited patiently while Hector reviewed his options. He'd lost the argument, but she had still given him the release clause. Either the contract was a prop, some silly thing to liven up their sex lives, or it was as real and binding as any other contract he'd ever signed. It didn't matter whether it was enforceable in law, all that mattered was that both parties chose to treat it as binding. Lotte was waiting for her answer. Hector cleared his throat, and despite himself, he felt a delicious thrill of vulnerability as he made the confession that bound him to her will.

"I'm ready, Mistress," he acknowledged.

Hector faced the door, his pulse racing.

"Now, I want you to knock on the door. When Bea opens it, I want you to be on your knees in your display position. You are going to thank her for agreeing to train you for the weekend. You will address her as Ma'am."

Hector cleared his throat.

"One more thing, when you thank her, you're going to mean it."

Her hand brushed down his spine. He felt her touch through the fabric of her overcoat, settling on the rounded curve of his bruised rear.

"You're doing so well. Now, time to put Hector in his box and bring out the slave. Let me know when he's all packed away, I'll give you a moment."

Just like that, with just a few words, with her hand on his rear, in full view of the street, his wife turned Hector from her husband into her toy. It only took a few seconds, but Hector could feel himself changing under her direction, the obstinacy leeching away as he admitted defeat to his wife's implacable requirements.

"Yes, Mistress," he murmured.

The transformation was complete. He knocked on the door and then went down on his knees on the doormat, not even checking to see whether he might have been observed from the street. He trusted that his owner had already checked, not wanting to alert the neighbours to the arrangements being made for the weekend, next door. He spread his knees wide, opening a gap in his coat to expose his naked thighs, and placed his hand on his knees, palm-up. He fixed his eyes on the mat beneath him and waited.

His wife waited next to him, towering over him now, as the seconds ticked by. He felt a stirring between his legs, a reaction to the way his wife had forced him to debase himself, waiting for Bea to come to the door. There was a scrape and then a click, and Hector's heart jumped. The door swung open.

Bea was standing there in her dark blue activewear leggings and a loose sweatshirt, in ballet flats, like it was just another casual night at home. Hector kept his head bowed, staring now at her feet and the curves of her toned calves in the tight, blue lycra. He could feel her eyes on him. He imagined her reaction, looking down on the man she had known and worked with for years, now prostrating himself obediently at her feet. After scolding her at lunch and then giving her the silent treatment for the rest of the day to punish her, here he was, kneeling pathetically in her doorway, completely in her power. His cock swelled beneath his coat, becoming rigid in seconds. His wife tapped the back of his head, prompting him. Hector licked his lips, his mouth dry.

"Thank you for agreeing to train me for the weekend, Ma'am."

His words were met with silence, and for some reason he found that the most humiliating thing of all: he had shown proper respect to the person who had whipped him and taken his promotion, but to the women standing over him it wasn't enough. He struggled to formulate more words. Lotte had warned him that he had to mean it.

"I apologise for what I said earlier. I'm sorry for treating you without respect. You didn't deserve that."

The silence continued. Hector began to panic, an irrational fear, but he felt the pressure of their expectations. His owner needed a demonstration of his subservience. He closed his eyes and visualised himself, with his mistress to one side of him and the woman who he would be trained by in front. How does a slave react? What would be a proper mark of respect?

"I want you to correct me, Ma'am. Your slave is here to obey."