by Stephen Wheeling

I couldn’t believe I was on the way to meet my girlfriend’s owners. The couple had been her roommates since college when they began experimenting with domination and submission. I guess they had all enjoyed their playing together, because soon after college the couple had “collared” her.

All this was new terminology to me. I had watched a few BDSM videos online, but until I met Francine I had never known anyone who actually practiced all this as a lifestyle. Greg and Angela, her owner-roommates, were married to each other and had been her owners for seven years by now. That was a much more stable long-term relationship than I had ever been in, for sure, and in a way I envied the three of them for finding something that worked for them.

It was a bit strange though. During our first few dates I was drip-fed information about her life at home. She really valued the opportunity she had to live the life of a full-time slave, it was something that very few would ever get to experience. She trusted them, and if she and I were going to continue, I had to accept that their role in her life would not change.

On our third date she explained that they generally allowed her to date as she saw fit, so long as it didn’t interfere with her “duties”. But there was a catch: she was forbidden any form of sexual contact until her owners had met and approved of the suitor.

I liked her a lot, and I considered myself an open-minded person. I wasn’t in any rush. A few more weeks of dating passed, and we became closer despite not even being able to kiss. Really we were laying a good foundation for a relationship, and I was happy for it.

Finally one day, she made another important aspect of their relationship explicit. I had been afraid to ask, but at some point we would all have to face it.

“So I know you’re still kind of getting used to the fact that I’m a slave. That dating me means I have a curfew, and that I can’t go out if my chores at home aren’t completed. But there’s something else I need to be sure you understand. My service to my owners doesn’t begin or end with just chores. The reason you need their permission to have sex with me, is that my sexuality belongs to them as well. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Do you mean… are you saying that they use you for sex?” I had still been holding onto hope that maybe this was more a platonic slavery. In reality though, I had known better.

“Well, yeah, sure. But it’s a lot more than that…” My mind raced during the short silence. How often was she having sex with them? Was that part of the arrangement going to end if they decided I was good enough to be with Francine? “It’s an essential part of our agreement. They will always own my sexuality and will have primary rights to it as my owners. And…” she hesitated a bit too long for my comfort. “If you want to be with me they will have to own you too. They say if you’re ready to accept that, they’re ready to meet you.”

So on the car ride over I was apprehensive about more than just meeting Francine’s owners. I was, as likely as not, meeting my own as well for the first time. Francine explained to me some of the rules of protocol in their home. I was not to look them in the eyes. They were to be addressed as “sir” and “ma’am”, and if they gave an order, I had to follow it. For Francine, I was more than willing to try anything to make this work.

“Now listen, I’m supposed to have prepared you for their training. And I think I have. But any mistakes you make will be punished. First they will punish you lightly, and then me much more harshly for not teaching you better. Because my ass is on the line, during training, and possibly on a continuing basis, you will also be submissive to me. I will have the authority to administer punishments and give orders.”

I was just getting myself deeper and deeper. Well, there was no reason to not try it out at least, I could always leave if it wasn’t for me, right?

When we entered the house, Greg and Angela, Francine’s owners (or… my owners?) were sitting at the couch waiting for us. They were dressed well, roughly our age. I was afraid to look too much for fear of accidental eye contact, but they were certainly attractive.

“Hello, Francine has told us so much about you. Both of you, come into the living room, please.” We stood facing them as my girlfriend had warned me to do. When in their presence we were not to sit down without explicit permission.

Greg introduced himself and his wife. He asked some basic questions, about whether I fully understood the nature of their relationship with my girlfriend, and whether I consented to be trained by them as a slave as well. I said that I did.

“Well then congratulations to the happy couple! Why don’t you two have your first kiss?” He sounded genuinely happy for us. I wasn’t religious or anything, so this was by far the longest I had dated someone without sexual contact, let alone a kiss. I was horny as hell for Francine and it must have shown in the passionate makeout that followed.

“I can see you’re a little hard, why don’t you take off your pants and underwear and show me my new cock.” It was clear that Angela was excited to have another man in the house. As much as I loved Francine, I had to admit that the realization that from time to time I would also be fucking Angela brought me to fully hard very quick.

“Francine, why don’t you play with his cock for us a bit?” I felt like I was going to explode right there as she reached down and began stroking me with her fingertips. At the same time it felt strange, I hadn’t realized beforehand that our first sexual encounter would be entirely a show for our owners.

At this point Greg was rubbing Angela’s pussy and she had her hand on his dick. They ordered Francine to strip. She took off her clothes in a rehearsed manner, and folded them neatly, before returning to stroke me. When they ordered me to do the same, I tried my best to imitate her.

“Now embrace her from behind, and reach down to pleasure her.” I could feel my hard dick against her butt. It was glorious, it was life itself. I was so tempted to just slip it in. As she got closer to coming, Greg and Angela began removing each other’s clothes as well. As Angela began giving him head, I thought I saw an opportunity. I reached down and grabbed my cock, and started lining it up to fuck my girlfriend from behind. Francine moved away sharply.

“Whooooa there buddy, nobody told you to do that. Francine, have you not been explaining things to the new slave? You, go eat my wife out while I correct this.” This was going from strange to stranger. Is this how she really lived all this time? Day in day out, enslaved to them voluntarily? What was he about to do to my girlfriend?

I knelt before Angela and began licking. She gave me direction as I went, and told me that it would be better for me to learn how to please her sooner rather than later. In the background I could hear some kind of wooden furniture being brought into the room. Francine was silent, but I could have sworn I felt a stifled gasp from her. Some minutes later Angela told me to watch.

Greg had tied Francine, naked, over some kind of makeshift bench. She was essentially on all fours on a kind of table, with each limb bound to the table comfortably. Greg was holding a thin reed cane.

“I want you to watch this now. This is the kind of thing that will happen from time to time when you don’t live up to our expectations.”

Francine’s eyes were wide with fear. I got the sense that she knew exactly what she was in for, and that it must not happen so very often or else she wouldn’t still be there. He began hitting her with the cane periodically, after telling me to count the strokes out loud.

I watched him cane my girlfriend, knowing that whatever he decided to do with her body she would accept, and that I had to accept it as well. I hadn’t expected it to be so hot though. It was all so exotic, so outside what I was used to, and yet there, in that living room, it felt so right and normal at the same time. I had misbehaved and now my love was being punished by our master. My punishment was to watch.

After ten strokes Greg asked me how many more she deserved. It felt like a trick question. Should I go high and try to win his favor? Should I go low to try to save her from her anguish? I looked to her for some kind of help, but she was just sobbing in pain. I decided to split the difference.

“Um, maybe ten more?”

“Wow, that’s awfully bold, you do realize that she can pay it forward to you directly if she chooses? Now come over here and hold her hand. Kiss her and tell her you love her, that you’ve learned your lesson, and that you will do everything you can to make sure she has to endure as little of this as possible during your training.” I did as he said, and tried to wipe some of her tears away. She returned my kiss with passion.

“I know baby, it’s ok. I accept it all, it’s worth it.” As he laid down the next ten blows I held her hands and looked in her eyes and felt her pain. I’m embarrassed to say it made me rock hard to see another man treating my girlfriend like this. And what else could I do? If I objected, it would be me she left, not him.

After the ten extra blows he told me to go back to eating out his wife while he untied my girlfriend. I heard him dragging something into the room, and then telling Francine to lay down and “present” herself. When Angela told me to turn around I saw Francine splayed across a yoga mat, holding her own legs apart and showing her vulva to the room. She looked, frankly, beautiful. And I was ready to finally get to fuck her, even if it meant waiting for the explicit go-ahead, as I now knew.

But Greg had something else in mind. He said that it was important that I understood how this house works. That he and his wife are our masters, and their needs, desires, and even simple whims come before us. That as horny as I might be, and as long as I had been waiting, I was not going to fuck Francine yet.

He was.

I was ordered to kneel and watch while he rubbed his cock up and down her vulva. He squeezed her ass where it had been caned and she winced, but soon after she was fully wet. It was clear that he really knew her body. And she must have known his as well. The reality of the situation I was signing up for really sank in as I watched him fuck her into the floor. Her tears we now dried into makeup stains down her cheeks, and she was smiling, enjoying it. She moaned and reached around to grab his ass and pull him in tighter.

While they enjoyed their intimate moment, Angela explained to me that probably for the rest of our relationship, she and Greg would be fucking Francine more that I would. I would have to earn explicit permission before each time I fucked my own partner. If we needed spontaneous intimacy as a couple, oral sex would be allowed a certain number of times per month, probably once or twice. But beyond that I would need to ask, specifically and explicitly, to fuck my girlfriend.

Their pace quickened. Greg ordered Francine to touch herself, and I could hear her approaching orgasm. Angela went on to explain that it was important, as a slave, that I always be ready to serve them sexually. That’s why they limited our sex, because after orgasm there follows a period when slaves tend to be less malleable. But if we were kept horny all the time we would follow any order. While they didn’t intend to be cruel about it, even masturbation by myself would require me to ask for specific permission from them. I decided to try my luck and ask if I could masturbate while I watched my girlfriend having sex at least.

“I suppose you might as well, but don’t you dare come. We have a long day planned for your introduction to slavery and we don’t want you to spoil it do we?” Shortly after I began touching myself, Francine announced that she was about to come. Greg took her hand away from her clit, grabbed her other hand and held them both together above her head.

“We aren’t ready for you to come yet today either.” Caressing her breast with his free hand, I could see that he was about to come, in my girlfriend, who I had been waiting nearly two months to fuck. He was laying claim to her, showing me that even if they have given us their blessing, she belonged to them first. As he finally came he shoved himself deep inside her, and I realized that even if I did get to finally have sex with her today, some of him would be in there too.

“That was a very good job slave, I’m proud of you.” They shared a lingering, passionate kiss, with his cock still buried inside my Francine.

When he was done he was magically still hard. He returned his attentions to his wife, and ordered me to get my girlfriend a seltzer and some food from the kitchen, then to lay down next to her to cuddle and comfort her after her caning and hard fucking.

In the kitchen I took a moment to catch my breath. I couldn’t believe what I had just experienced. It was degrading, and demoralizing. Who were these people to assert themselves as our owners? But on the other hand, how many people ever get the opportunity to experience such a rush of taboo emotions in a safe environment? I was beginning to see why Francine stayed in this arrangement. It was absolutely exhilarating!

“After everything you have seen, are you still interested in working towards being collared to us?” Angela asked me when I returned.

“Yes, ma’am, I am.”

“Good.” While I held the helpless puddle of girlfriend on the floor next to me, Angela came over and began stroking my dick. I had never snuggled my girlfriend immediately after she had been fucked by someone else before, and I had certainly never done so while another woman played with my painfully aroused cock.

“While our dear Francine recovers here, I’m just going to edge you a bit. We want to make sure you’re horny and pliable. Your caning is next.”

“Why don’t you try to soothe our girl a little bit? Reach down and rub her clit some. I’ll tell you what she likes.” Angela continued gently jerking me off while she explained what Francine liked. Francine, meanwhile, just lay there silently in bliss. I tried not to think about the fact that her vagina was full of Greg’s sperm, and that I was probably getting it on my fingers.

“I think she’s earned herself an orgasm, what do you say?” Greg was standing over the three of us, watching, naked. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that he had finally lost his erection, but I also sensed that it was threatening to return. I preferred not to think about what would happen if it did.

“I agree, the new slave should make her come.” I continued rubbing Francine’s clit like Angela had shown me. On the one hand it was strange to think that she was more of an expert at getting my girlfriend off than me. But at the same time it was beautiful to have someone in our lives who cared enough to show me.

Francine grabbed my head and began making out with me. This added stimulation brought me close to orgasm, but Angela could see that and stopped stroking me for a bit. At some point I noticed that Greg was no longer watching us. How long he had gone, where he went, and why, were all mysteries that made me shudder.

Francine looked beautiful when she came. Her long legs widened, then bent, then shut. Her torso twisted, first left, then right. She broke from our kiss and cocked her head back to let out a slow, growing moan. Her right hand clenched my shoulder tightly. I made eye contact with Angela, who was now holding my balls in one hand firmly while gently stroking up and down the underside of my shaft with her other index finger.

“I know what you’re thinking, and no, she doesn’t always come that hard. And it’s especially rare to see her come that hard with new people, she must really like you.” What did she mean by new people? How many new people had Angela seen her with? Were these suitors like me who had failed to win the approval of her owners and be collared? Or did the already quite debauched sexual atmosphere of this household sometimes include outside parties as well? “I am really happy, for both of you, and for myself and Greg. That was a really special moment. But unfortunately you have broken a second rule, and we just can’t ignore that.”

Fuck, I had forgotten that Francine warned me against making eye contact. Hopefully the punishment for this wouldn’t be as severe as for my earlier attempt at unauthorized fucking. Just then Greg came around the corner lugging what I later learned was called a St. Andrew’s cross.

“Don’t worry about that, we can just add it in with the caning you’ve already got coming.” He spoke with such nonchalance that for a moment I forgot we were talking about literally beating me with a literal cane. Who does that? And what kind of bizarre universe had I landed in? Greg reached down to where we had all been rubbing and groping each other on the floor and pulled me up by the wrist. Even if my girlfriend was full of another man’s come, those few moments on the floor being naughty with two beautiful women had been some of the best of my life. I resented Greg for plucking me out of it just like that. Especially since I knew that what was coming would be far less enjoyable.

He pulled me by the wrist over to the cross, and fastened each of my arms to either of the upright planks. Then he attached my legs to the bottom ones. I was left standing and completely helpless, unable to move to guard or shield myself. Francine looked worried, and she got up and stood facing me on the other side of the cross. Grabbing me by the cheeks she kissed me and then lingered, with our faces nearly touching. It was intimate, for a second I could almost have forgotten that we weren’t alone in the room, and what was about to happen.

“I love you,” she said, for the first time. “Look, what’s about to happen… it’s not going to be easy. Believe me, I know. But it’s part of the price you have to pay to live this way. I accepted it long ago, and now my life would feel empty without it. I’m sure that if you give in to it you’ll come to feel the same.”

“I… god, I love you too. And all of this is really crazy to me, but if this is how you want to live, then I want to live like this with you.”

“I think this one’s a keeper, Greg.” Said Angela.

The first hit with the cane caught me by surprise. It’s a strange thing: to be hit. Somehow you never expect it until it starts, even if you’ve been told it’s coming. Stranger still, to be restrained during it. Your instincts to protect yourself, to fight or to flee, are overridden, but not by you. No, your body wants to get out of the situation, but it can’t. It wrestles with its captivity, before finally giving in, resigning itself to what is coming.

“You’re doing awfully well for your first time,” Greg said to me at some point during the ordeal. My brain focused perhaps a little too much on the words ‘your first time.’ This was my first time. But it wasn’t going to be the last, was it? How often did Greg and Angela do this to sweet Francine? How big of a part of my life were these sessions going to become for myself?

Francine stayed close to me the whole time, petting my head, reassuring me. She told me it was beautiful that we were finally doing this. That she had always dreamed of the day a man would accept to live with her on these terms. That no one else she had dated had been so courageous or accepting as me. She told me that she was happy that I was going to become the first person she had ever had sex with without being ordered to.

There it was again. Had she lost her virginity to Greg and Angela? As much in love as we were, we hadn’t been dating long, and I didn’t know those kinds of things about her. And more importantly, why did she qualify it that way? Was the implication that she sometimes fucked other people at the behest of her owners? Was I going to be expected to do the same?

Eventually Greg stopped. I was sweating, and weak. They untied me, and laid me down on the mat to recover, exactly where Francine had been before. Greg and Angela fucked softly and respectfully on the couch, it looked like fun. Francine held me as we watched them, and I thought about how good it would feel to hold her, and fuck her slowly and gently like that. Soon I would have my chance, I thought. Soon.

After some time Angela looked towards us.

“Francine, why don’t you be a dear and suck on the poor boy’s dick for a while? He’s been through a lot.” I was fully hard just at the thought before she could even get her lips near my cock. I had waited so long for this, and it turned out to have been worth it.

It’s a complicated mix of emotions, to be in love with someone who has committed herself to a life of sexual servitude to another person, let alone two. But it does have its perks. This was easily the best blow job I had ever received. It would only occur to me later that that was because of seven or so years of practice and correction with Greg. That I was basically receiving the oral sex that he craved, and had trained her to give. But at least now, some of the time, it would be for me too.

After a while I felt like I was going to come. I still didn’t feel super clear on the rules, so I did the only thing that made sense.

“Um… Sir, ma’am?” Humiliation swept my body as I prepared to ask, “Can I please come?”

They stopped grinding against each other’s bodies and shared a quizzical look. Only a few seconds passed, but with my fate hanging in the balance like that they felt like an eternity.

“I don’t know, that would be such a special moment, shouldn’t we honor it a bit more?”

“Yeah but I mean the poor guy has been so sweet, and he just got his ass caned for the first time in his life. He also watched you cane his girlfriend and then fuck her to smithereens. He’s just getting used to the idea of all this…”

“But that’s just it, he is just getting used to the idea of all this. If he comes now he might have post-nut remorse. I really don’t think it’s a thing to take lightly. What if after he comes he’s disgusted by all he’s seen and leaves? Would that be fair to poor Francine?” 

My dear sweet Francine, love of my life, did something that shocked me at that moment. I wanted, with all the soul and fervor I had in me, to bust a nut in her mouth more than I had ever wanted something before. However she stopped blowing me for just a second to tell the people deliberating whether I was allowed to orgasm or not: 

“No, I don’t want him to come yet.”

What the fuck Francine? In time I would realize the wisdom of what she said, but in the moment I felt betrayed and used. Does everyone get to come but me? How did I end up in such a shitty position in this insane foursome? Was I just everyone’s toy to pass around?

They agreed that if she thought I shouldn’t come, as my girlfriend but also as the head slave of the house, then I wouldn’t get to come. So I held it, and Francine finally stopped. Saliva dripped down her face and onto her chest and belly. At first I thought it had also reached her vagina, until I realized that she was still leaking Greg’s come. A few moments more and so was Angela. It occurred to me that I didn’t even know whether the day would come that I would be too.

“Ok that was great everyone. Welcome to the family! Francine, why don’t you show him to his new room? Then both of you can shower and take a little rest together before dinner. Greg and I are going to think up a really special ceremony for your first time having sex.”

Upstairs Francine showed me to her room, which was now mine as well. It was big, with an en suite bathroom. The bed was huge and cozy, with a wonderful down duvet. Losing myself for a moment I pictured Greg pounding her on that giant bed, his cock thrusting in and out as she performed for him in exactly the way she had been trained to. How often had that happened? How many times would I have to walk in on it now that I kinda lived here?

Francine and I talked as we showered together. I asked her how often she had sex with her owners. She said it was a lot. Especially with Greg, he was always grabbing her and sticking his dick in her. A couple times a day, probably, on average. She had to carry lube with her at all times, because she was ‘free use.’ She explained to me that this meant that part of their agreement was that her owners could have sex with her at any time, day or night. Continuing, she explained to me that they would be expecting the same from me, even though she suspected I would get used less often. Part of me was relieved, but part of me felt like it was going to be a competition.

She told me more or less how this started. Despite Angela’s incredibly high libido, Greg was too much even for her. One night, when they were still in college, and after a long day of drinking, they had confided this sticking point in the relationship to their roommate, Francine. She, half jokingly, had offered to help pick up the slack if it would relieve the tension in their relationship, which she thought was beautiful and wanted to see continue. Angela said that she could only feel comfortable sharing her man that way if it wasn’t done on a basis of equality. If he were going to fuck someone else, they would have to be like a toy. The rest, as they say, is history.

When we turned the water off I thought I could hear more than two voices downstairs. I wanted to ask her the other question that had been burning in my mind. Did Angela and Greg let other people have sex with my girlfriend too? Would they continue to? Would I have to?

But it seemed too real and weighted of a question with guests in the house. We dressed and went downstairs to find that three other couples had arrived for dinner. I felt awkward and didn’t know whether to behave as though everything was normal, or what. That feeling didn’t last long though.

“These are some friends of ours, they know that you’re our new slave, and they’ve come here to make your first time having sex together even more special. Please sit at the table with us.”

So we did, and we all drank a glass of wine and chatted like normal people. It was nice to get to know some folks in a familiar environment. To know that they knew our deepest darkest secret, that we were committed sex slaves of another couple, and still accepted us as people. I felt much better about this whole arrangement, maybe it wasn’t so shameful after all. Everyone at this table knew that Greg and Angela fucked my girlfriend on a regular basis, and that I was ok with that. And they were ok with it too.

It’s a powerful thing, to be accepted for who you are. Soon though, things took another turn.

“Now we’re going to play a little game before you two lovebirds get to finally be together. It goes like this: the six of us are going to play gin rummy, as couples. Each time a couple lays a run both of you take an item of clothing off. In the end, each member of the winning couple gets to choose one of you to take upstairs to be alone with, in one of the bedrooms, for half an hour. What they do to you, is up to them.”

The woman to my left announced that it had been years since she and her husband got to explore their bi side and they were really hoping to win. The man to my right said he was looking forward to spanking the shit out of Francine when he won. The remaining couple laughed at their friends and told us we had better hope they win, because all they wanted to do was have straight vanilla sex with us.