Husband’s Command: A Living Room Submission

I’m sitting here, my mind racing, as I watch her kneel. The soft light of the living room casts a warm glow, highlighting the curves of her body. She’s wearing that black garment, the one that hugs her thighs and exposes her midriff. Her curly hair falls over her shoulders, and she’s reaching down with her right hand, her fingers brushing against the fabric. I can’t help but think about how she got here, how I got here. This wasn’t her choice, she’s said that before. But it’s my choice, and I’m the one who turned her into this.

An Afternoon of Control: 3 PM

It’s 3 PM, and the world outside is quiet. The bookshelves behind her are filled with books, a reminder of the life we used to have. Now, it’s just a backdrop to this scene. I’m seated on the chair, my hand gripping her wrist. Her skin is soft, and I can feel her pulse beneath my fingers. She’s not struggling, just compliant, waiting for my next move. The red couch on the left is a blur in my peripheral vision. I’m focused on her, on the power I hold in this moment. She’s mine to command, and I’m the one who put her in this position.

The Transformation: From Wife to Plaything

I remember the day it started. The way she looked at me, the mix of fear and excitement in her eyes. I told her what she was gonna be, and she didn’t fight it. She just accepted it, sort of like she was always meant for this. Now, she’s kneeling, her back to me, her body on display. I can see the muscles in her back tense as she reaches down, her fingers playing with the hem of her garment. She’s not just my wife anymore; she’s my plaything, my slut. And I’m the one who made her this way. The books, the couch, the soft light—they’re all just props in this scene. The real story is the one playing out between us, a dance of control and submission. And as I sit here, holding her wrist, I know that this is just the beginning. There’s more to come, more for her to endure, more for me to command. She didn’t choose this life, but she’s living it now. And I’m the one who put her here, who turned her into the slut she is today. It’s a power I wield with a mix of pride and guilt, but it’s a power I can’t let go of. Not now, not ever.