Fiction: The Delighted Patient (FF/M)

Mandy had always enjoyed visiting her grandpa at the hospital. The atmosphere wasn’t exactly cheery, but she loved how her family would gather, chatting and laughing to lift Grandpa’s spirits. And then there was Tim—the young man in the next bed, who had quickly become her favorite part of these visits.

Tim was handsome, despite his current state. His arms and legs were in casts, suspended by cords, leaving him immobile after his motorcycle accident. At first, their interactions were shy and brief. But over time, as her family sat with Grandpa, Mandy would linger at Tim’s bedside, joking and teasing him to keep his spirits up.

On this morning, his morning had started like most others since his accident—quiet, tedious, and utterly beyond his control. The nurse assigned to him that day, a more senior nurse, had come in shortly after breakfast with her usual efficiency. She had brought a basin of warm water, a stack of towels, and a bottle of soap, all of which signaled the start of his daily sponge bath.

For Tim, these baths were a mix of relief and humiliation. The warmth of the water eased the constant itchiness and discomfort of being immobile, but the indignity of lying there, exposed and helpless, never got any easier. Carla worked quickly, chatting lightly about the weather and the hospital’s busyness, as though that could distract him from the fact that he was lying there completely at her mercy.

She had just begun cleaning his genital area, her methodical hands working with practiced ease, when her pager buzzed loudly. Carla paused, glancing at the small screen strapped to her hip. Her brow furrowed as she read the message, and she let out a frustrated sigh.

“Of course,” she muttered under her breath, setting the washcloth aside and standing abruptly. “I have to go. Emergency on another floor.”

Tim blinked, confused and slightly alarmed. “Wait—you’re leaving?” he asked, his voice laced with embarrassment as he glanced down at his still-wet, uncovered body.

Carla gave him an apologetic look, already halfway to the door. “I don’t have a choice, it’s a code blue, Tim,” she said quickly. “I’ll be back as soon as I possibly can to finish.”

She moved to the curtain, pausing just long enough to ensure it was fully closed before stepping out. “Just sit tight,” she added, her voice fading as she rushed down the hall.

And with that, she was gone, leaving Tim lying there in a state of undignified limbo. The blanket was crumpled at the foot of the bed, the damp cloth and soap abandoned on the side table. His body glistened with water, the cool air of the room prickling his skin. His casts and the cords holding his limbs suspended only heightened his sense of vulnerability, leaving him utterly exposed and powerless.

He let out a low groan, staring at the ceiling in mortified resignation. What else could he do? Carla’s absence would only be a few minutes, he told himself. Surely no one would come in.

And then, of course, the door opened. Mandy and her family had come to visit his bed neighbor, their Grampa.

Mandy immediately noticed the curtain pulled around Tim’s side, which was unusual. Normally, he was sitting there ready to chat with her as she visited. Today, however, the curtain and the unusual silence piqued her curiosity. Tim was the hilight of her visits.

She glanced around, noticing the absence of any staff nearby. Her family was fully occupied with grandpa, giving her a narrow window of privacy. With a mischievous grin, she stepped up to the curtain and poked her head through.

“Hey, Tim!” she whispered brightly.

“Mandy!” Tim’s voice was a mixture of surprise and panic. His face flushed deep red, and Mandy’s eyes widened as she took in the scene. Tim was lying completely exposed. The blanket meant to cover him was pulled right off, leaving his chest, tummy, and genitals completely bare.

Mandy’s eyes darted back up to his face, her cheeks coloring as she struggled not to laugh. “Oh,” she whispered, her tone somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “Well, this is… unexpected.”

“Mandy,” Tim groaned, his voice low and urgent. “Please—just—pull the curtain closed and go!”

But Mandy, in true form, wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip by. “I mean, I came to say hi, but this is a… different kind of hello.” She smirked, leaning slightly closer.

Tim squirmed, though his bindings didn’t allow much movement. “Mandy, I’m serious,” he whispered. “Your family is right outside!”

“Oh, I know,” she whispered back, her tone laced with mischief. “That’s why we have to keep our voices down. Don’t want them to hear, right?”

“Mandy, this isn’t funny,” he hissed, his voice barely audible. His blush deepened, and Mandy suddenly noticed another telltale sign of his predicament—a stirring below his waist that only made his humiliation worse.

Her eyes widened slightly, then narrowed with an impish gleam. “Tim…” she whispered, her voice dropping into a teasing tone. “Are you—? Oh my God, are you actually enjoying this?”

Tim groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. “I’m not—Mandy, it’s not what you think!”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “It’s exactly what I think. You’re happy to see me, aren’t you?”

His voice was barely audible now, his embarrassment palpable. “I can’t help it, okay? It’s… it just happens!”

Mandy grinned, delighted by his discomfort. “Well, I’ll take it as a compliment,” she whispered. “Though I have to say, you’re in quite the compromising position here.”

Tim gave her a desperate look. “Mandy, please—can you just put the blanket on me or something? If your family comes over—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said lightly, her tone maddeningly calm. “They’re busy with Grandpa. But I have to admit, this is… kind of flattering.” She arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smile. “You must really like me.”

“Mandy,” he groaned again, his tone both pleading and mortified. “Please, stop.”

But Mandy was having too much fun. “Alright, fine,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching. She reached for his blanket and put it back over him, tucking it neatly at his waist. “There. Better?”

Tim exhaled in relief. “Thank you,” he muttered.

Mandy tilted her head, her grin softening. “You know,” she whispered, leaning a little closer, “you’re kind of adorable when you’re all flustered like this.”

Tim didn’t respond, his blush deepening as he avoided her gaze. Mandy chuckled softly and stepped back, slipping out from behind the curtain.

“See you later, Tim,” she whispered before returning to her family, her heart racing from the thrill of the encounter. She couldn’t wait to tease him about this again when they had more privacy.

——

As Mandy sat by her grandpa’s bed, her family chatted animatedly, their voices filling the room. She stole occasional glances toward the curtain separating Tim’s bed from the rest of the space. Though she kept a casual demeanor, her heart raced from their earlier exchange. She could still picture his mortified expression, and the memory made her suppress a smirk.

Moments later, the nurse returned, briskly walking into the room. She had a clipboard tucked under one arm and an air of purpose. “Sorry about that, Mr. Randall,” she said, slipping behind Tim’s curtain. Mandy couldn’t help but perk up, her ears straining to hear.

Behind the curtain, the nurse paused. “Well, that’s odd,” she said softly, though her voice was audible enough for Tim—and Mandy—to hear. “Did someone cover you up while I was gone?”

Tim cleared his throat, his voice strained. “Uh… yeah, you could say that.”

“Oh, how sweet of them,” the nurse said, amusement creeping into her tone. She set down her clipboard and pulled the blanket back off to where it had been before she’d rushed out. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in Tim’s predicament, and a grin tugged at the corners of her lips.

“Well, well,” she teased gently, picking up the sponge she’d left behind. “Looks like someone’s a bit… excitable today. Let me guess—did that young lady I saw peek her head in to say hi?”

Tim groaned audibly, and Mandy, still eavesdropping, had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She leaned slightly closer to her grandpa’s bed, pretending to adjust his pillow, but her attention was entirely on the conversation behind the curtain.

“I—she might have,” Tim stammered. “But it’s not—look, it’s just—”

The nurse chuckled softly as she resumed the sponge bath, her tone playful but professional. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s perfectly natural. Young man like you, charming girl like her… I’d be more surprised if you weren’t reacting.”

Tim let out a muffled groan, clearly wishing the ground would swallow him whole. Mandy could barely contain her grin. She made a mental note to tease him later about this.

The nurse dipped the sponge into the basin of warm water and wrung it out, her motions brisk and efficient as she moved along Tim’s chest and abdomen. She kept her face composed, but the faintest twitch at the corner of her lips betrayed her struggle to remain professional. Tim, meanwhile, was practically glowing red, his face turned to the side as he stared fixedly at the curtain, avoiding all eye contact.

Yet there it was—his erection, standing tall and unwavering like a flagpole, utterly impossible to ignore despite the nurse’s best attempts to pretend otherwise. Every now and then, it throbbed slightly, as though mocking his efforts to keep himself composed.

Tim groaned inwardly, mortified beyond belief, his immobile state making it all the worse. He felt every careful swipe of the sponge as the nurse worked around the area, pointedly avoiding the source of his humiliation while still doing her job thoroughly. The tension in the air was palpable, yet neither of them addressed the glaring issue between them.

“So,” the nurse said after a moment, her voice calm and casual as though nothing was amiss, “that girl—she seems nice. A friend of yours? She’s quite the looker. Pretty, friendly… you’re a lucky guy to have someone like that visiting you.”

Tim groaned softly, unsure how to respond. His entire body felt tense, his skin burning under her casual commentary.

The nurse dipped the sponge back into the basin, wringing it out slowly. “Of course,” she said, her voice taking on a slightly teasing edge, “there are certain… needs a nurse can’t help a patient with, no matter how thorough the care.”

Tim’s breath hitched, his face turning an even deeper shade of crimson. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing desperately for the conversation—and the moment—to end.

The nurse chuckled softly, shaking her head as she continued working. “I suppose that’s what friends are for, though,” she said, her tone light and nonchalant.

Tim let out a muffled groan, his mortification complete. He could feel the occasional throb, a reminder of his traitorous body, but the nurse said nothing more, simply finishing her task with calm efficiency.

When she finally put the blanket back over him, smoothing it down as though nothing had happened, she stood up straight and gave him a small smile. “There we go,” she said brightly. “All set. You’re good to go.”

Tim barely managed a nod, his throat tight with embarrassment. The nurse gathered her supplies, humming softly as she walked toward the curtain. “Rest up, Mr. Randall,” she said, her tone cheerful.

As the curtain swished shut behind her, Tim let out a long, shaky breath, his face still burning as he stared at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or simply disappear altogether.

As the nurse pulled the curtain back slightly to leave, Mandy caught her eye. The older woman gave Mandy a knowing smile before returning to her duties, leaving Tim behind the curtain in stunned silence.

Mandy leaned over to her grandpa, whispering softly so only he could hear. “I’ll be right back,” she said with a sly smile.

She stood and sauntered over to the curtain, poking her head through just enough for Tim to see her face. “So, everything okay over here?” she whispered, her voice dripping with feigned innocence.

Tim glared at her, his face still beet red. “Mandy, I swear…”

She grinned, cutting him off. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. For now.” With a wink, she slipped back out, leaving Tim groaning in frustration and Mandy grinning with satisfaction as she returned to her family.

——

Mandy arrived at the hospital the next day, feeling a mix of anticipation and mischief. Her family had decided to come later, giving her some rare alone time during her visit. When she entered the room, her grandpa’s bed was empty, a note on the side table indicating he was undergoing medical tests.

Tim was lying in his usual spot, staring at the ceiling with an expression of bored resignation. As soon as their eyes met, his face turned a familiar shade of pink, a telltale sign he was still reeling from her teasing the day before.

“Hey, Tim,” Mandy greeted, her voice bright and casual as she walked over to his bed. “How’s my favorite patient today?”

Tim groaned softly, his eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “What are you planning this time?”

“Who, me?” she said innocently, pulling the curtain around his bed as she grabbed a chair and sat down beside him. “Just wanted to check in, that’s all. Have a little chat.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest. “Yeah, because yesterday wasn’t humiliating enough.”

Mandy smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Actually, about yesterday… I was thinking.”

Tim groaned again, closing his eyes. “Do we have to?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she replied, undeterred. “It got me wondering… you’ve been stuck here for weeks, completely immobile. That must be frustrating.”

“I’m fine,” Tim said quickly, though his flushed cheeks betrayed him.

“Come on, Tim,” Mandy pressed, her tone softening slightly. “It’s okay to admit it. You’re a guy—you’ve got needs, right? And it’s not like you can… handle them yourself. And I overheard the nurse saying there’s nothing she can do…”

Tim’s blush deepened, and he shifted uncomfortably, though the cords holding his arms and legs made the movement minimal. “Mandy,” he said weakly, “please don’t.”

But she wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. “I mean, if it’s really been that long, it’s gotta be driving you crazy.” She tilted her head, giving him a thoughtful look. “What if I helped?”

Tim’s eyes shot open, and he stared at her in shock. “W-What?”

“You heard me,” Mandy said, her voice low and calm. “I’m offering to help you out. I mean, you clearly can’t do it on your own, and I don’t mind. We’re friends, right?”

Tim’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. His face was a deep crimson now, and he looked everywhere but at her. “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Why not?” Mandy asked, standing to close the curtain fully around them. “No one’s here. The curtain’s closed. It’s not like anyone’s going to walk in. And… well, I want to.”

“You want to?” Tim repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mandy nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah. I mean… you’re cute when you’re all flustered, and, well… I like you. And I want to make you feel better.”

Tim was silent for a long moment, his breathing shallow as he processed her words. Finally, he met her gaze, his eyes wide and unsure. “Feel better? Are you… serious?”

“Completely,” Mandy said, her voice steady. She reached out and gently placed her hand on his, giving him a reassuring smile. “But only if you want me to…”

Tim swallowed hard, his embarrassment warring with something else—something he couldn’t quite deny. After a moment, he nodded, his voice barely audible. “No, we shouldn’t…”

Mandy perched herself casually on the edge of Tim’s bed, her playful smirk lighting up her face. Her presence alone was enough to make his pulse quicken, but when she leaned in slightly, her voice low and teasing, he felt his breath hitch.

“You’ve been stuck here for weeks, Tim,” she said softly, her tone a mix of sympathy and mischief. “I bet you haven’t had a single moment to… feel good, have you?”

Tim’s face flushed instantly. “Mandy, I don’t think—” he started, but his words faltered as she placed a hand on the blanket covering his waist.

“Shh,” she whispered, her fingers lightly brushing over him through the blanket. The contact was gentle, almost tentative, but it was enough to send a spark of sensation through his immobilized body. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Mandy…” His voice cracked slightly, his head pressing back against the pillow as he squirmed in his bindings. “You… you really don’t have to—”

“But I want to,” she interrupted, her voice firm but still soft. Her hand pressed more deliberately now, the fabric between her palm and his skin doing little to dull the growing heat beneath it. She began to rub slowly, her movements subtle but deliberate, and Tim groaned despite himself.

As she felt him begin to harden beneath her touch, Mandy’s grin widened. She leaned in closer, her lips just inches from his ear as she whispered, “I can feel you want this, Tim. You want me to help you, don’t you?”

Tim’s breathing grew heavier, his blush deepening as he struggled to find words. “I… I don’t…” he stammered, but his body betrayed him, responding eagerly to her touch.

“You don’t have to say it,” Mandy murmured, her tone almost soothing now. Her hand continued its slow, deliberate motions as she tilted her head to meet his wide, flustered eyes. “I already know. Just relax. I’ll take care of you.”

Tim’s lips parted to protest, but the words caught in his throat as Mandy tugged the blanket down, exposing him. He stiffened immediately, his face burning with embarrassment. His bindings left him completely vulnerable, his arms and legs suspended, and Mandy’s calm demeanor only heightened the surreal nature of the moment.

“You really are tense,” she said softly, her fingers brushing against him, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Tim. She grinned, clearly enjoying his reaction. “I’ll take care of it. You just need to relax.”

Tim’s body tensed further as her hand wrapped gently around him. “Mandy, I don’t think—” he began, his voice shaky, but she silenced him with a glance, her eyes warm but firm.

“You think too much,” she whispered, leaning in. Her breath brushed against his skin, sending a shiver through him. “Let me help.”

Before he could utter another word, Mandy lowered her head, her lips brushing against his cock softly at first, then more deliberately as she took him into her mouth. Tim’s head fell back against the pillow, his bindings pulling taut as his body reacted instinctively.

“Mandy,” he groaned, his voice breaking, though the sound was more a mix of disbelief and surrender than an actual protest.

Her movements were slow and deliberate, her confidence unwavering despite his muffled protests. Mandy glanced up briefly, her gaze meeting his as she worked. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and reassurance, silently telling him to let go.

Tim’s breathing quickened, his protests fading into soft, shaky breaths as Mandy continued. For the first time in weeks, the tension that had been building in him—both physically and emotionally—began to melt away, leaving him utterly at her mercy.

Tim’s head tilted downward, his body locked in place by the casts and cords that kept him immobile. His breath hitched as his eyes settled on Mandy, her head moving rhythmically between his thighs. Her hair fell in soft waves, brushing against his skin with every motion, adding to the intensity of the moment.

From his vantage point, he could see her lips pressed into a perfect “O,” her soft, pink lips shielding her teeth as she worked with an almost practiced ease. The sight was mesmerizing—her mouth encasing him as she slid down slowly, taking him deeper than he thought possible. He could feel the warmth of her breath as she moved, her cheeks hollowing slightly as she pulled back, only to plunge again, her lips meeting the base in a fluid motion.

Tim’s chest heaved, his breathing shallow as his eyes remained fixed on her. There was something hypnotic about the way her mouth moved, her focus unwavering, her hands resting lightly against his hips for balance. Each time she went down, he felt a shiver run through him, her control over the pace leaving him entirely at her mercy.

“Mandy,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking as the sensation overwhelmed him. But she didn’t stop. Instead, she tilted her gaze upward briefly, her eyes locking with his in a way that made his stomach tighten. There was a spark of mischief in her expression, but also something tender, almost reassuring, as if she wanted him to know he was safe in her hands—or rather, her mouth.

The combination of her movements and the view before him left him utterly undone, his body trembling as the tension inside him built to an almost unbearable peak.

Tim’s breathing grew more erratic as Mandy continued, her movements smooth and deliberate, sending shockwaves through his immobilized body. His chest heaved, and he felt the tension coiling tighter and tighter, building to a breaking point he couldn’t hold back much longer.

He tried to speak, his voice shaky and strained. “Mandy… I’m… I can’t—”

She paused just long enough to glance up at him, her lips still pressed around him, her eyes twinkling with a mix of determination and mischief. Without pulling away, she shook her head slightly, as if to silence him, and brought a single finger to her lips in a quiet shush.

Tim’s heart raced as her unspoken message became clear: she wanted him to let go, here and now, in her mouth. His mind spun, a mixture of embarrassment and exhilaration washing over him.

“Mandy…” he groaned again, his voice breaking as he struggled to maintain some semblance of control. But she didn’t relent. Her head dipped lower, her lips sliding down his length, taking him deep enough to make his vision blur.

The soft suction and the warmth of her mouth sent him over the edge. His body trembled, his bindings pulling taut as his release overwhelmed him. Mandy didn’t pull away—instead, she stayed with him, her movements slowing as she coaxed every last bit from him. Just as she began to pull back, still holding him gently in her mouth, the sound of the door opening made both of them freeze.

“Mr. Randall? Is everything okay in here?” came the nurse’s voice, brisk and professional as she stepped into the room.

Mandy’s eyes widened in panic, and she pulled away quickly, nearly losing her balance as she hastily wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Tim groaned softly, his mortification renewing as Mandy grabbed the blanket and hastily covered him, her giggle escaping despite her best effort to stay silent. Her face was bright red, a mix of laughter and nerves threatening to bubble over. “Act normal!” she mouthed at Tim, who could only glare at her, his face just as flushed.

The nurse’s footsteps drew closer, the sound of her clipboard rustling as she pulled back the curtain. Mandy barely managed to sit back in her chair, trying to look casual, though her disheveled hair and flushed cheeks told a different story.

The nurse raised an eyebrow as she took in the scene. Tim lay there stiffly, his face redder than ever, while Mandy avoided eye contact, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hmm,” the nurse said, her gaze lingering on them both before flicking to the heart monitor. The slight spike from earlier was still visible, and her lips quirked in the faintest hint of a smirk. “Well, someone’s looking a little… warm today. Heart rate and blood pressure seems elevated. Everything okay?”

Mandy stifled another giggle, glancing at Tim before hurriedly responding. “Oh, yeah! He’s fine. I mean, I think he’s fine. Aren’t you fine, Tim?”

Tim groaned softly, closing his eyes as if wishing he could disappear. “Perfectly fine,” he muttered.

The nurse tilted her head, scrutinizing Mandy’s flushed face, her slightly messy hair, and then the faint white smear at the corner of her lip she’d missed in her rush.

“You’ve got… something,” the nurse said dryly, gesturing to her own lip.

Mandy’s eyes widened, and she hastily wiped her mouth, her cheeks burning. “Oh! Uh, must’ve been from… a snack!” she stammered, glancing nervously at Tim.

The nurse crossed her arms, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “A snack, huh?” she said, her tone laced with amusement. “Well, whatever it was, I hope it helped calm him down.”

Mandy stood abruptly, nearly knocking over the chair in her haste. “Uh, I should go!” she blurted, avoiding the nurse’s gaze. She gave Tim a quick, apologetic look and bolted for the door, leaving him alone with the nurse.

——

The nurse shook her head, her smirk widening as she turned back to Tim. “Well, Mr. Randall,” she said, picking up her clipboard. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m guessing I shouldn’t ask.”

Tim groaned, covering his face with his uninjured hand. “Please don’t.”

The nurse stood at Tim’s bedside, her sharp eyes fixed on him, her smirk only growing wider as she crossed her arms. Tim lay there, utterly mortified, wishing he could sink into the bed and disappear.

“Alright, Mr. Randall,” the nurse said, her tone professional but laced with amusement. “As you can’t do it yourself, and seeing as the lady was in a bit of a rush, let’s make sure you’re, uh, cleaned up properly, shall we?”

Tim’s eyes shot open, and his face burned even redder. “That’s not… I mean… it’s fine, really!” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly.

The nurse raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. She pulled a small pack of wet wipes from her pocket and snapped on a pair of gloves. “I’m afraid that’s not how this works,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re my patient, and it’s my job to make sure everything’s in order. Don’t worry—I’ll be quick.”

Tim groaned softly, closing his eyes as she closed the curtain again and pulled the blanket back down to his hips, exposing him once again. His arms and legs remained suspended by the casts and cords, leaving him completely helpless.

The nurse raised an eyebrow and her hand froze for just a moment as her gaze landed on him—his soft, spent penis resting against his thigh, unmistakably glistening and completely relaxed. Her lips twitched slightly, but her professionalism remained intact, even as her amusement shone through.

“Well,” she said after a pause, unfolding a wet wipe and leaning over him, her movements efficient and unhurried.. “You certainly seem… more relaxed than usual.”

Tim squirmed slightly, the cool touch of the wipe against his skin sending a fresh wave of embarrassment through him. “This is so unnecessary,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

The nurse chuckled softly. “Oh, I beg to differ,” she replied. As she leaned over him, her gaze landed on his skin, her brow furrowing slightly. “Huh,” she murmured, dabbing at him with a clean wet wipe. “You seem a little sticky, almost as if…” she paused, holding his penis between thumb and forefinger, inspecting it with a bemused expression. “Saliva?”

Tim stiffened, his entire body going rigid. “Uh, I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered, his voice cracking as he avoided her gaze.

The nurse tilted her head, clearly amused. “Saliva’s an odd thing to find here, don’t you think?” she mused, her tone entirely too casual as she wiped him again. “Not something I typically expect during a routine cleanup.”

Tim groaned, his face impossibly red as he mumbled, “I have no idea.”

The nurse straightened, fixing him with a knowing look. “Must be a mystery, then,” she said, her smirk growing wider. “Though I can’t help but notice it lines up perfectly with a certain someone’s hasty departure.”

Tim’s mouth opened to protest, but no words came out. The nurse laughed softly, shaking her head as she grabbed another wet wipe and continued her work. He had no idea how he was going to face Mandy—or the nurse—again after this.

“There,” she said after a few moments, stepping back and discarding the used wipe into a nearby bin. She pulled the blanket back up over him, smoothing it out as she gave him a satisfied nod. “Good as new.”

Tim opened his eyes cautiously, his cheeks still burning. “Are we… done?” he asked weakly.

The nurse gave him a playful smirk. “For now,” she said. “But next time, Mr. Randall, you might want to keep things a little more… discreet. Hospital monitors don’t lie, you know.”

Tim groaned again, closing his eyes as the nurse gathered her supplies and stepped out from behind the curtain. Her laughter echoed softly as she left the room, leaving him to stew in his embarrassment.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Tim let out a long sigh, his thoughts drifting to Mandy. Despite the sheer humiliation of the situation, he couldn’t deny the rush of emotions her boldness had stirred in him. For better or worse, she’d certainly made his hospital stay unforgettable.

Fiction: Trained by Mistress Violet (FFF/M, oral, anal, foot fetish)

[Continued from Daniel’s Wifely and Motherly Discipline]

I liked the characters from my previous effort, and had the idea of the wife wanting to take her dominance to the bedroom and thought she would need a coach. So I continued it with a tribute to my friend Violet, trying to capture the essence of some of the sessions we’ve shared with David over the years. If you’re looking for something along these lines, please reach out to her and say Julie sent you!

A few days later, Daniel sat nervously at the dining table, flipping absently through a magazine while Samantha tidied up after dinner. The air was calm, but there was a lingering sense of tension Daniel couldn’t quite place. He knew Samantha well enough by now to recognize when something was on her mind, and tonight, that something seemed to be him.

“Daniel,” Samantha said suddenly, breaking the silence as she sat down across from him. She folded her hands neatly on the table and fixed him with a thoughtful, measured look.

He glanced up warily, already sensing the seriousness in her tone. “Yes, ma’am?”

Samantha smirked slightly at his continued use of the term, clearly pleased. “I’ve been thinking about us,” she began slowly, her voice smooth and deliberate. “About how things have changed between us these past few weeks.”

Daniel’s face flushed slightly. “I… I know I’ve been trying to do better,” he stammered, “with the chores and my attitude. I really have.”

“Oh, you have,” Samantha agreed, her lips curving into a faint smile. “But I’m not just talking about your behavior, Daniel. I’m talking about us—our relationship. Specifically, our sex life.”

Daniel froze, his heart skipping a beat. “Our… sex life?”

Samantha leaned back in her chair, her expression unbothered but pointed. “Yes. Let’s be honest, Daniel—it’s never been particularly satisfying, has it?”

Daniel opened his mouth to protest, but her raised eyebrow stopped him cold. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his cheeks burning.

Samantha continued, undeterred. “You’ve always been rather… lackluster in the bedroom. I’ve tried to let it go, but given how our relationship dynamic has shifted recently—” she gestured subtly toward him, a clear reminder of his new, submissive role “—I think it’s time that change is reflected in every aspect of our lives. Including the bedroom.”

Daniel blinked, his voice faltering. “I-I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

Samantha’s smirk grew, her eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. “What I mean, Daniel, is that if you’re going to take on a more submissive role in this marriage, that shouldn’t stop at your chores or discipline. It should extend to how we share intimacy.”

Daniel swallowed hard, his face now completely red. “But… I don’t—”

“Don’t interrupt,” Samantha said sharply, cutting him off. “I’ve been doing some research, Daniel. Specifically about women taking the lead in the bedroom. It’s fascinating, really—there’s an entire world of possibilities for someone in my position.”

Daniel stared at her, stunned into silence. His mind whirled at what she was suggesting, but Samantha didn’t wait for him to catch up.

“I’ve been looking into strap-ons,” she said matter-of-factly, as though discussing groceries. “There are quite a few options available, and I think it would be… satisfying for me to take charge in the bedroom in a more literal way.”

Daniel’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. His mind reeled as the words sank in. “A… a strap-on?” he finally choked out.

“Yes,” Samantha replied, unbothered by his reaction. “I think it’s time for you to fully embrace your new role—just as I’ve embraced mine. It’ll be a natural extension of your submission to me. And frankly, I deserve to enjoy myself for once.”

Daniel squirmed, his hands clenching nervously in his lap. “But… Samantha, I don’t know if I can—”

“You’ll adjust,” she said calmly, brushing his protest aside with a wave of her hand. “It’s not up for debate. I’ve already decided I’ll order one. I’ve just been deciding which size and design I prefer. Perhaps I’ll let you help me choose.”

Daniel’s face burned impossibly brighter as Samantha’s words settled over him like a weight. She sat back in her chair, clearly satisfied with the conversation.

“Don’t worry, Daniel,” she added with a faint smirk, “I’ll take things slowly. At first.”

Daniel’s stomach churned, his embarrassment now mingling with dread. Samantha smiled sweetly, her tone turning soft but unmistakably firm. “It’s time for you to learn a whole new level of obedience, my dear. You’ll thank me for it eventually.”

With that, Samantha stood and walked toward the kitchen, leaving Daniel sitting there, stunned, his heart pounding as he realized just how far his submission to his wife was about to go.

——

A few days later, the discreetly packaged strap-on arrived at the house. Samantha retrieved the box from the doorstep, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she carried it inside. Daniel, who had been nervously waiting in the living room, paled when he saw her walking in with the package. She set it down on the table with a purposeful thud, her sharp gaze fixing on him, and opened it.

Daniel stood awkwardly a few feet away, his face already flushed as she reached into the box and began unpacking its contents. First came the harness—a sleek, black leather affair with adjustable straps, its sturdy buckles clinking faintly as she held it up for inspection.

“Very well-made,” Samantha mused, running her fingers along the smooth leather. “I’ll need to make sure this fits me perfectly before we put it to use.”

Daniel swallowed hard, his gaze darting nervously between her and the box. But it was the next thing Samantha pulled from the box that made his blood run cold. The dildo. It was long, thick, and unmistakably intimidating, with a gleaming, lifelike design that made it seem all too real. Samantha held it up with a satisfied smirk, turning it in her hand as though admiring its craftsmanship.

Daniel’s mouth went dry. “S-Samantha… that’s—”

“Big?” she teased, arching an eyebrow as she looked at him. “Oh, it’s certainly big, isn’t it?” She tapped the base of the dildo against her palm, watching his reaction with open amusement. “It’s important to start with something worth my time, don’t you think?”

Daniel’s face burned red, his eyes unable to look away from the monstrous toy she held in her hand. “But… but that’s—how am I supposed to—”

Samantha’s smirk deepened as she stood, the dildo still in hand. She stepped toward him slowly, the leather harness dangling over her arm as her gaze locked onto his. “Oh, I see it now,” she said, her tone light and teasing but carrying an unmistakable edge. “You look just like a scared little virgin facing her wedding night.”

Daniel blinked rapidly, his voice trembling. “I-I’m not—”

“Shhh,” Samantha interrupted, placing a single finger against his lips before tilting her head to study him. “Look at you. Wide-eyed, trembling, already panicking about what’s going to happen. You’re blushing more than a bride with her veil lifted for the first time.” She leaned in closer, her tone dropping to a sultry whisper. “Admit it, Daniel—you’re scared. Aren’t you?”

Daniel’s cheeks burned hotter, his throat tight with embarrassment. “I… I just didn’t think it would be so…”

“Big?” Samantha finished for him, holding the dildo up between them. “You’ve already said that, dear. But don’t worry—I’ll take good care of you. You’ll adjust, I promise. Slowly… at first.”

He flinched slightly as she reached out, trailing the smooth, silicone surface of the dildo lightly along his cheek before withdrawing it with a laugh. “Honestly, Daniel, you’re acting as though this is your first time seeing a proper tool of pleasure. But I suppose it is, isn’t it? After all, I’m the one who’s going to teach you what submission really means.”

Daniel swallowed hard, unable to form a coherent reply as Samantha began adjusting the harness, sliding the straps through the buckles with deliberate movements. The sound of leather tightening only made his stomach twist tighter.

She glanced up at him briefly, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she teased, “Oh, don’t look so terrified. I promise, you’ll thank me for this one day. But this isn’t something I want to stumble through. If you’re going to learn to embrace your submission to me properly, we’ll need to do it right. I’ve decided we need a coach.”

“A… a coach?” Daniel stammered, his face already flushing.

“Yes, a coach,” Samantha repeated firmly. “Someone experienced in this kind of dynamic. I want us to be comfortable and confident. I expect you to spend today researching options for a professional who can guide us through this. I’ll hear your suggestion tonight.”

Daniel groaned inwardly, his cheeks red with shame, but he knew better than to argue. “Yes, ma’am.”

——

Hours later, after painstakingly scouring the internet for professionals offering such coaching, Daniel came across a website that made his heart skip a beat: Mistress Violet Mays. The site, sleek and elegantly designed, described her as a “sensual dominant specializing in guiding couples to embrace power exchange and submission.” The words seemed to leap off the screen as Daniel read through her offerings—strap-on training for beginners, power dynamic reinforcement, and couple’s sessions tailored to explore deeper levels of submission.

The website address, https://www.mistressvioletmays.com/, was etched into his mind as he scrolled past sophisticated images of Mistress Violet herself, her demeanor exuding a calm, yet unmistakably powerful authority. Testimonials described her as “understanding yet unyielding,” “sensual but strict,” and “a masterful guide for beginners and experienced submissives alike.”

Mistress Violet Mays’ image was striking—impossible to ignore. In the photograph, she was a vision of power and sensuality, her poised body arching atop a pristine surface. She wore a form-fitting black latex dress that clung perfectly to her curves, reflecting the light and drawing attention to every deliberate line of her silhouette. The shine of the latex gave her an almost untouchable, polished aura.

Her stockings were sheer and perfectly smooth, leading down to a pair of pointed black heels adorned with studs, which added an edge of danger to her already commanding presence. One leg bent elegantly at the knee, the other taut, giving the impression of effortless control and dominance.

Her breasts act as an alluring focal point of her commanding presence. Framed by the structured black lace of her revealing top, her breasts are full, round, and perfectly accentuated. The fabric hugs her curves tightly, offering both tantalizing suggestion and an undeniable display of her sensuality. The neckline dips low, showcasing smooth, soft skin that contrasts beautifully with the stark, edgy nature of her latex skirt and sharp heels. Her posture further enhances their prominence, the natural arch of her back lifting her chest forward with a deliberate confidence that demands attention without apology.

The photograph offered only a partial view of her face, but that, too, seemed intentional—allowing her physicality to communicate her authority. Her posture, her confidence, and her carefully chosen attire spoke volumes. The combination of soft sensuality with an undercurrent of unyielding strength made her both alluring and intimidating.

Daniel swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he scrolled down, revealing more photos. In each, Mistress Violet was captured in a variety of poses—holding a leather crop, seated on an elegant chair with one stilettoed foot resting on a kneeling figure’s back, or standing with a whip loosely coiled in her gloved hand. Each image radiated her command over those in her presence, and Daniel couldn’t look away.

He didn’t want this. Not really. He told himself that over and over as he clicked through the pages. But no matter how much he tried to convince himself, his body betrayed him. His stomach churned with discomfort as an unwanted heat began to build in him. His cheeks flushed as he shifted in his seat, suddenly aware of the unmistakable tightening in his pants.

“No,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely a whisper. “Not this… I don’t want this.”

But the tension in his body told a different story. As he continued to scroll, the tightness grew, his erection pressing harder against the fabric of his pants. He shifted again, attempting to will it away, but it was no use. The arousal was undeniable, and it left him feeling ashamed and confused.

His breath hitched as he landed on another image—Mistress Violet standing tall, her gloved hand resting lightly on the back of a bound figure. The sheer elegance of her stance, the calm confidence in her expression, sent his heart racing and his erection throbbing painfully against his clothes.

“This isn’t right,” he whispered, his voice cracking with panic and shame as he adjusted himself awkwardly in the chair.

But the images on the screen didn’t relent, and neither did his body’s betrayal. Each photo, each phrase on the page—“discipline training,” “obedience reinforcement,” “intimate control”—seemed to stoke the fire inside him, no matter how much he tried to suppress it.

He closed his eyes and leaned back, taking a shaky breath as he fought for control. The hard bulge in his pants made it impossible to ignore how completely his body had given in, even as his mind resisted.

“No, no, no…” he whispered desperately. “This isn’t what I want.”

But as he opened his eyes and found himself gazing again at Mistress Violet’s commanding image, standing tall and poised with her whip in hand, his body betrayed him further. His erection pulsed against the fabric of his pants, undeniable proof of the power she already held over him.

Daniel’s face burned with shame as he realized the truth: Mistress Violet had already claimed him, even through a screen. And no matter how much he fought it, he couldn’t deny the effect she had on him.

It was clear that Mistress Violet Mays was a woman who exuded control and power effortlessly—someone who could command obedience with little more than her presence. There was no question that this was a woman well-suited to teach submission to those who needed it.

——

That evening, Daniel approached Samantha in the living room, his laptop held nervously in front of him. She looked up from her glass of wine, raising an expectant eyebrow. “Well? What have you found?”

Daniel cleared his throat, trying not to stammer. “I… I think I found someone. Her name is Mistress Violet Mays, and, um, she offers exactly the kind of coaching you’re looking for. Sensual dominance… strap-on instruction for couples…” His voice trailed off as he turned the laptop screen toward her.

Samantha’s eyes narrowed with intrigue as she took in the screen. “Mistress Violet Mays,” she murmured, scrolling through the website. “Well, well,” she drawled, straightening up and crossing her arms. “It seems you’ve managed to find a very… attractive coach.”

Daniel’s face turned crimson as Samantha stared at the image of Mistress Violet, her sharp gaze and commanding presence practically radiating from the screen. “It’s not like that,” he said quickly, his voice cracking slightly. “I-I just thought she looked… professional.”

Samantha chuckled, her smirk growing wider as she sat down next to him, her eyes not leaving the screen. “Professional? Sure,” she said with a mock-serious tone. “That’s definitely why you picked her. Nothing to do with the fact that she’s absolutely gorgeous.”

Daniel squirmed in his seat, his hands fidgeting on the table. “I-I didn’t… It’s not…” he stammered, his words tripping over themselves as Samantha’s teasing gaze bore into him.

“She’s is gorgeous, Daniel,” Samantha said, her voice dripping with amusement as she leaned closer to the laptop. “Tall, elegant, those heels… And that whip in her hand? Oh, I’m sure that didn’t intimidate or… excite you at all.”

Daniel’s mouth opened and closed uselessly, his face flushing deeper with every word. He glanced nervously at the screen, where Mistress Violet’s confident pose seemed to mock him, as if she knew exactly the effect she had on him—even through a photo.

Samantha tilted her head, her smirk softening into something more playful. “You know,” she said, tapping her finger thoughtfully against her chin, “I think you do need someone like her to coach you. Someone who can really… get through to you.”

Daniel’s stomach churned, and he swallowed hard. “I-I thought she might be… good at this,” he managed weakly.

Samantha laughed, a bright, amused sound that made him wince. “Oh, I bet you did,” she said, her tone teasing. “And I can’t help but notice you went above and beyond finding a coach who’s not only competent but also absolutely stunning. Is there something you want to tell me, Daniel?”

“N-No!” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s not like that! I just… I thought she looked professional.”

Samantha leaned closer, her grin widening as she placed a hand on his knee. “Relax, darling,” she said softly, her voice tinged with mockery. “You’re already blushing enough to tell me everything I need to know. I think we’ve found the perfect person for our… training.”

Daniel let out a defeated sigh, his head sinking into his hands as Samantha turned back to the screen, her amusement evident. “Her site is beautifully put together, isn’t it? Very professional. And she specializes in guiding couples… oh, this is perfect.”

Daniel squirmed as Samantha clicked through the testimonials and offerings. “Her experience is exactly what I’m looking for,” Samantha continued, her tone pleased. “She sounds like she understands how to strike the balance—sensual but firm. Just what we need.”

Daniel swallowed hard. “You… you really think we need to go this far?”

Samantha looked up sharply, her gaze pinning him in place. “Of course we do. I want you to embrace this new role fully, Daniel, and I refuse to settle for anything less than complete confidence and comfort for both of us. Mistress Violet will ensure that happens.” She turned the laptop back toward him. “Book a session for the three of us. I want her expertise guiding us through this.”

Daniel’s face burned impossibly red as he looked back at the screen, Mistress Violet’s poised and commanding image staring back at him. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered.

“Good boy,” Samantha said, her voice soft but dripping with authority. “Send her a email explaining the situation. Your newly submissive position. Your punishments. Tell her I want to learn how to use a strap-on to maximum effect. Tell her it will be your first time. Be polite in your email. I’m sure she doesn’t tolerate disrespect. Cc me on it.”

——

Daniel sat at the dining table later that evening, his laptop open and his heart pounding. Samantha’s earlier instructions echoed in his mind—be polite, explain everything, and above all, do not disrespect Mistress Violet. He wiped his palms nervously on his thighs, his fingers trembling over the keys.

——

Subject: Request for a Couples Coaching Session

Dear Mistress Violet Mays,

My name is Daniel, and I am writing on behalf of myself and my wife, Samantha, to respectfully request a coaching session with you. Samantha has recently taken on a dominant role in our marriage, and I am transitioning into a more submissive position under her guidance. This has been a transformative experience for both of us, but we recognize that we need professional instruction to navigate this dynamic fully and correctly.

Samantha has expressed an interest in learning how to use a strap-on to maximum effect in the bedroom, and she has tasked me with ensuring that we are properly prepared for this next step. It will be my first time experiencing such intimacy, and we want to approach it with care, confidence, and guidance from someone experienced like yourself.

To provide some context, Samantha has implemented domestic discipline as part of our relationship dynamic. My punishments include spankings, corner time, and other corrective measures when necessary. I am learning to follow her authority in all areas, including intimacy. Samantha believes—and I agree—that incorporating your expertise will help us fully embrace our roles and deepen our connection.

We are deeply impressed by your professionalism, experience, and reputation, as reflected on your website. Samantha and I would be grateful if you would consider coaching us in a three-way session to ensure that she has the tools and confidence she needs as a dominant, and that I learn to submit properly in the context of our new dynamic.

Please let us know your availability and any steps we need to take to prepare for the session.

Thank you for your time, Mistress Violet. I understand the importance of respect and decorum, and I hope this email reflects the sincerity of our request.

Warm regards,

Daniel

(CC: Samantha)

——

The response arrived the next afternoon, and Samantha insisted on reading it aloud as Daniel stood nervously nearby.

——

Subject: Re. Request for a Couples Coaching Session 

Dear Daniel and Samantha,

Thank you for your thoughtful and well-written email. It is always refreshing to hear from couples who are committed to deepening their power exchange dynamic in such an intentional way.

Samantha, it is clear that you are a woman who knows what she wants and is not afraid to take charge—a quality I admire greatly. Daniel, your willingness to submit and embrace your role is commendable, though it is also clear you have much to learn. Rest assured, I will guide you both with a firm but supportive hand.

I am pleased to accept your request for a coaching session. We will begin by focusing on Samantha’s confidence in wielding her authority in the bedroom, particularly with the use of a strap-on. Daniel, as this is your first time, I will ensure you are prepared both physically and mentally to accept her in the way she desires.

To confirm, please reply with your availability for the upcoming week. I recommend booking a two-hour session to allow for proper instruction and practice without feeling rushed. I will provide all necessary guidance and adjustments to ensure Samantha achieves her goals and you, Daniel, understand what full submission requires of you.

I look forward to working with you both.

Warmly,

Mistress Violet Mays

——

Samantha smiled triumphantly as she set her phone down. “Perfect,” she said with a satisfied tone. “We’re going to get trained properly.”

Daniel swallowed hard, his cheeks flushing as he nodded meekly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Reply to her immediately and confirm a session and rate,” Samantha ordered. “Oh, and don’t forget to thank her for her time. You’ll need to make a very good impression when we meet her.”

Daniel turned back to his laptop, his heart pounding again as he typed his reply. This was happening—and there was no turning back now.

——

As the day of their session with Mistress Violet Mays arrived, Daniel’s nerves were a jumbled mess. Samantha, on the other hand, was composed, exuding a quiet excitement as they traveled to Mistress Violet’s private studio. The address had been discreetly provided in the email, and upon arrival, they found themselves in front of an elegant, modern building. Samantha knocked firmly on the large door while Daniel fidgeted nervously beside her.

The door opened moments later, and there stood Mistress Violet Mays. In person, she was even more striking than her photographs. Her hair was swept back elegantly, and her piercing gaze instantly made Daniel feel small. Her lips curled into a knowing smile as she took them in.

“Welcome,” Mistress Violet said smoothly, her voice a mix of warmth and authority. She stepped aside, gesturing them into her studio. “Please, come in.”

The interior was tastefully decorated—modern, minimal, and imbued with an air of quiet power. A large leather spanking horse sat prominently in the center of one room, surrounded by shelves and cabinets that displayed an array of tools: whips, paddles, straps, and more. Daniel’s eyes widened nervously as he took it all in, while Samantha appeared unbothered, curious but confident.

“Please, have a seat,” Mistress Violet instructed, motioning to a pair of chairs positioned opposite her in a seating area. They obeyed, Daniel’s knees bouncing anxiously while Samantha perched comfortably, crossing her legs.

After serving cocktails and engaging in some small-talk, Mistress Violet got down to business. Her gaze settled on Samantha first. “Tell me more about what you’re hoping to achieve today.”

Samantha smiled, her voice steady. “I want to learn how to take full control of Daniel—especially in the bedroom. He’s been assuming a more submissive role, and I believe that should extend everywhere. I want confidence in using my authority, particularly with… the strap-on.”

Mistress Violet nodded knowingly, her sharp eyes flicking to Daniel, who blushed furiously. “And you, Daniel? How are you feeling about this?”

Daniel swallowed hard, unable to meet her gaze. “N-Nervous, ma’am. But… I want to do as Samantha says. I’ll try to be good.”

Mistress Violet’s smile widened slightly. “We’ll make sure of that.” She turned back to Samantha. “Would you like to participate directly today, or observe while I demonstrate first?”

Samantha tilted her head thoughtfully. “I think I’d like to watch first—to see how it’s done. I want to be confident before taking the reins myself. But hopefully you could also tutor me after that.”

“Of course,” Mistress Violet said with a nod, rising gracefully to her feet. “Daniel, stand up.”

Daniel obeyed quickly, his heart pounding as Mistress Violet approached him. She looked him over, her gaze appraising and unflinching. “Take off your clothes. All of them.”

His face burned, and he shot a desperate glance at Samantha, who simply raised an eyebrow, daring him to disobey. With trembling hands, Daniel began to undress. His shirt came off first, followed by his socks, his pants, and finally his underwear, leaving him completely bare. He stood there awkwardly, his hands hovering near his groin as his cheeks flamed red.

“Hands at your sides,” Mistress Violet commanded coolly. “You’re here to submit. Modesty has no place in my studio.”

Daniel dropped his hands reluctantly, his shame deepening as Mistress Violet circled him slowly, her heels clicking on the floor. “Good,” she murmured.

Mistress Violet surveyed Daniel with a knowing smirk as he stood trembling and bare before her, Samantha watching with composed interest from her seat. The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation as Daniel’s arms hung awkwardly at his sides, his shame palpable.

“We’re going to start with something very important, Daniel,” Mistress Violet began, her voice calm but commanding. “Before I demonstrate anything further, you need to be properly prepared. Cleanliness is essential, both for submission and for the activities we’re about to undertake.”

Daniel swallowed hard, confusion flickering in his eyes. “P-Prepared, ma’am?”

Mistress Violet’s lips curled into a faint smile. “A cleansing enema followed by a shower. It’s standard practice for these types of training sessions.” She turned toward Samantha, who looked intrigued. “You’ll want to ensure he’s clean, especially when moving forward with strap-on play. It reinforces discipline while also removing any… complications.”

Samantha nodded approvingly, her gaze shifting to Daniel. “That sounds perfectly reasonable. I’m sure he’ll cooperate.”

Mistress Violet looked back at Daniel, her tone firm. “You will follow me on your hands and knees to the shower, Daniel. It’s time to begin.”

Daniel’s face turned beet red. “O-On my hands and knees?”

“Yes,” Mistress Violet replied simply. “Submission starts with obedience. You’ll do as you’re told. Now, down.”

Daniel hesitated for a split second, but the sharp look Mistress Violet gave him spurred him into action. He dropped to his hands and knees, his face burning with humiliation as he crawled after her, his bare backside swaying with every awkward shuffle. Samantha followed close behind, her heels clicking as she observed with quiet satisfaction.

Mistress Violet led them into a large, luxurious shower room. The tiles were sleek and cool, the space expansive, with a handheld shower head and various discreet supplies set neatly on a nearby ledge.

“Into the shower, Daniel,” Mistress Violet ordered, turning to face him. He obeyed, kneeling miserably in the center of the shower as Samantha leaned against the wall, watching with sharp interest.

Mistress Violet put on a pair of latex gloves then reached for a red rubber enema bag hanging nearby, calmly filling it with warm water before attaching the nozzle. Daniel’s eyes widened in panic as he realized what was about to happen.

“M-Mistress Violet, please—” he stammered, but her firm voice cut him off.

“Quiet, Daniel. You don’t speak unless spoken to,” she said coolly. “You will take this enema to ensure you’re properly cleansed.”

Samantha tilted her head, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “She’s right, Daniel. This is necessary. Behave yourself.”

Mistress Violet approached him, the filled enema bag in one hand, the nozzle dangling ominously from the tube. “Bend forward,” she instructed, her voice leaving no room for argument. “Elbows flat on the tiles.”

Daniel whimpered softly, his cheeks blazing red as he obeyed, shifting onto all fours and pressing his head and elbows to the cool tiles. His exposed position left him feeling small and helpless as Mistress Violet hung the enema bag and knelt behind him.

“You’ll need to relax, Daniel,” Mistress Violet said matter-of-factly, gently parting his cheeks with one gloved hand as she applied lube to his bum hole. “Tensing will only make it harder.”

Daniel’s face burned as he felt the tip of the nozzle press against him. He flinched instinctively, but Mistress Violet’s calm voice returned. “Breathe deeply. This is part of your training.”

With a steady hand, Mistress Violet inserted the nozzle, guiding it firmly yet carefully into place. Daniel gasped softly at the intrusion, his humiliation complete as the warm water began to flow into him.

Mistress Violet kept a firm hand on his lower back, maintaining control as she worked. “It’s important to take your time with this,” she explained calmly to Samantha. “Make sure the flow is steady, not too fast, so he can adjust. This process isn’t just about physical cleansing—it’s about reinforcing submission.”

Daniel’s body trembled as the water filled him, the pressure building steadily as Mistress Violet administered the enema. Samantha watched intently, her arms crossed, her lips curled in quiet satisfaction. “You’re being very thorough,” she observed.

“Of course,” Mistress Violet replied smoothly. “It’s necessary. He needs to learn that his body—and his obedience—are completely at your disposal.”

After several long, humbling minutes, Mistress Violet finally closed the flow and removed the nozzle, placing it aside. “There. Stand up, Daniel,” she instructed firmly. “You’ll hold it for a few moments before relieving yourself.”

Daniel rose shakily to his feet, his face streaked with tears of shame, his body trembling from the experience. Samantha stepped closer, brushing her hand against his shoulder with a small, mocking smile. “Good boy,” she said softly. “You’re doing so well. Mistress Violet is making sure you’ll be ready for us.”

Mistress Violet stood, removing her gloves with a soft snap. “Go to the bathroom and then shower thoroughly with soap and water to clean yourself up, Daniel,” she ordered. “Come crawl to us in the sitting area afterwards and don’t dawdle. Then we’ll move on to the next part of your training.”

Daniel nodded tearfully, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment as he waddled awkwardly toward the adjoining restroom to relieve himself. The weight of his humiliation settled deep inside him, knowing this was only the beginning of his submission under Mistress Violet’s guidance—and Samantha’s watchful eye.

——

Daniel shut the bathroom door softly behind him, his face burning with shame as he sat trembling. He released a shaky breath, his stomach knotting as he completed the task Mistress Violet had given him. Each humiliating step only cemented the knowledge that he had no control here—he was theirs to mold, theirs to command.

Once finished, he turned on the shower, the warm water cascading over him as he scrubbed his body with soap and water, just as instructed. He worked quickly but thoroughly, desperate not to test their patience by taking too long. With every rinse and scrub, his thoughts swirled anxiously—what would they do to him next?

As his soapy fingers made contact with his rear cheeks, Daniel flinched, the sensation both jarring and deeply embarrassing. He started to scrub tentatively at first, circling the area with light pressure, but Mistress Violet’s earlier instructions rang sharply in his ears: “Thoroughly.”

His face burned brighter as he obeyed, his soapy fingers moving lower until they reached his anus. He froze for a moment, the thought of what he was doing overwhelming him, but the memory of Violet’s stern tone pushed him forward. He began scrubbing gently, the soap slick against his most private area.

The act felt unbearably intimate, his fingers carefully working around his puckered entrance. The warm water and slick lather intensified the humiliation, making him hyper-aware of each movement. He hated how meticulous he had to be, how thoroughly he had to scrub every part of his anus, knowing it would be checked later for cleanliness.

Daniel let out a shaky sigh as he pressed slightly harder, ensuring the soap reached every fold. The deliberate focus on such a sensitive, private area sent waves of discomfort through him, making his stomach churn. His hands trembled as he cleaned himself, his body tensing involuntarily with each pass of his fingers.

He re-lathered his hands and continued, his fingers working directly over his anus, rubbing circles and applying more pressure to make sure it was spotless. The repetitive motion—so unnatural and so humiliating—brought tears of frustration to his eyes. He hated how exposed he felt, even in the privacy of the shower, knowing this part of himself was no longer off-limits.

He let out a shaky sigh, his fingers circling his entrance with trembling precision. He couldn’t stop himself from imagining the moment when the thick, slick head of Mistress Violet’s strap-on would press against him, testing his resistance. The thought of his anus yielding made his breath hitch and his face flush hotter.

The humiliation of it all—cleaning himself in preparation for such an act—left him feeling weak, defeated, and utterly powerless. He hated the thought of being taken in such an intimate way, of being so completely dominated, and yet the inevitability of it consumed him. His soapy fingers lingered, rubbing tenderly over the sensitive skin as the anticipation of his impending anal deflowering filled his mind.

By the time he finished, Daniel’s body felt raw—both from the scrubbing and the emotional weight of what he’d done. He stood under the spray for a moment longer, letting the water rinse over him, washing away the suds but not the lingering shame of the task. His anus still felt warm and tender from the scrubbing, a constant reminder of how thoroughly he’d cleaned it.

As he shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes red, and his expression one of utter defeat. The humiliation of scrubbing his anus so meticulously weighed heavily on him, a stark reminder of how far he had already submitted—and how much further he would still have to go.

He grabbed a towel, quickly patting himself dry before setting it aside. The echo of Mistress Violet’s earlier command rang in his ears: crawl to us. His humiliation knew no limits.

——

He dropped to his hands and knees as instructed and began crawling. His cheeks burned with shame, his movements slow and hesitant as he crawled forward. As he entered the sitting room, Samantha remained seated comfortably, her lips curling with quiet amusement, while Mistress Violet watched him with calm, expectant authority.

“Come here,” Mistress Violet ordered softly, motioning to a spot directly in front of where she sat. “Right here, next to my feet.”

Daniel swallowed hard and crawled forward, each movement a humbling reminder of his submission. His bare skin brushed the cool floor as he moved, his head hanging low, eyes fixed on the ground. When he reached her, Mistress Violet extended her hand, pressing firmly against the back of his head.

“Head to the floor,” she commanded gently, yet with an undeniable weight of authority.

Daniel obeyed instantly, his forehead resting against the smooth surface just inches away from her polished black stiletto heels. She gave his head an affectionate pat, her fingers lingering briefly before she withdrew.

“That’s a good boy,” Mistress Violet murmured, her voice smooth and laced with satisfaction.

Daniel’s gaze, drawn helplessly downward, took in the sight before him—her elegant black heels, glossy and sharp, the narrow points of the stilettos perfectly poised against the floor. His eyes drifted upward slightly, tracing the curve of her small, delicate ankles, which were encased in sheer, expensive-looking stockings. The fabric shimmered faintly in the light, highlighting the smooth contours of her legs as they disappeared beneath the hem of her form-fitting black dress.

He tried to look away, mortified at his own fascination, but Mistress Violet’s voice broke through the silence.

“Oh?” she said softly, her tone tinged with amusement. “Are you admiring my shoes, Daniel? My stockings?”

Daniel froze, unable to respond. Samantha raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in faint amusement as she observed the exchange.

Mistress Violet shifted slightly in her seat, the motion causing the arch of her foot to flex elegantly. “It’s all right. You may look. I enjoy when a submissive appreciates the finer details.”

Daniel’s breath hitched, his heart pounding. He dared to lift his gaze again, unable to help himself as he drank in the sight of her flawless footwear and the delicate fabric hugging her ankles. The humiliation of the position sank deep into his chest, making his heart pound. The weight of Mistress Violet and Samantha’s gazes bore down on him, and though he tried to focus solely on her feet, his body betrayed him.

A sudden warmth spread through him, and he felt it without having to see it—a swelling between his legs that made his stomach drop. He let out a soft, involuntary whimper, but it was too late. His erection was fully visible now, jutting awkwardly between his thighs as he knelt, head bowed to the floor.

Mistress Violet’s laugh rang out, soft and lilting, yet cutting in its mockery. She leaned forward slightly, her eyes glinting with amusement as she pointed toward the obvious display. “Well, would you look at that?” she said, her voice dripping with playful disdain. “Our little pet is wagging its tail.”

Daniel’s face burned hotter than ever, his breath catching in his throat as the shame coursed through him. He wanted to curl up, to disappear, but he remained frozen in his humiliating position, his body trembling under the weight of her words.

Samantha let out a chuckle of her own, crossing her legs as she observed him with a smirk. “Oh, he really is,” she said, her tone teasing. “Look at him, Violet. Just like a needy little dog, so eager to please. It’s almost pathetic.”

Mistress Violet leaned back in her chair, her expression amused yet commanding. “Almost?” she said with a mockingly raised eyebrow, gesturing toward Daniel with a casual flick of her hand. “No, Samantha—it’s entirely pathetic. He’s on display, completely exposed, and he still can’t control himself. It’s almost as if he enjoys being put in his place.”

Daniel whimpered softly, his body trembling as the heat of their words washed over him. He wanted to deny it, to protest, but he knew better. Anything he said would only add to their amusement, and the throbbing evidence of his arousal left no room for argument.

Mistress Violet tilted her head, clearly noticing his distress. “Well,” she murmured after a pause, “if you’re that entranced, you may kiss my feet.”

Daniel’s eyes widened, and his body tensed. “M-Mistress… I…” he stammered, the words barely leaving his lips.

“You may kiss my feet,” Mistress Violet repeated calmly, though the firmness in her tone made it clear this was not optional. “It’s a privilege, Daniel. One I don’t extend lightly.”

Samantha’s voice chimed in, teasing yet pointed. “You heard her, Daniel. Don’t keep Mistress Violet waiting.”

Daniel whimpered softly, his face burning with a mix of shame and something he couldn’t quite name. Slowly, he lowered his head, pressing his lips tentatively to the toe of Mistress Violet’s right stiletto. The surface was smooth and cool, the scent of polished leather filling his senses.

“Good boy,” Mistress Violet murmured approvingly. “Now the other.”

Daniel shuffled slightly, his body still trembling as he kissed the toe of her left shoe, his lips brushing the glossy leather with the same reverence. Mistress Violet extended her foot slightly, allowing the heel to hover just off the ground. The curve of her ankle remained framed beautifully by the sheer stockings, taunting him with its elegance.

——

As Daniel knelt there, trembling and humiliated, his lips still tingling from kissing Mistress Violet’s glossy heels, she suddenly sat up straighter, her voice sharpening. “Excuse me, Daniel,” she said curtly, a note of feigned anger in her tone. “Are you forgetting something?”

Daniel flinched, his head snapping up in confusion. “M-Mistress?”

SMACK! The sharp sound of her hand connecting with his bare, vulnerable bottom echoed through the room. Daniel yelped, his body jolting forward as Mistress Violet’s eyes narrowed.

“Do not neglect your wife, Daniel!” she scolded, her voice low and cutting.

Daniel’s face burned bright red as he scrambled back to his hands and knees. “Y-Yes, Mistress. I’m sorry, Mistress,” he stammered, crawling awkwardly toward Samantha as quickly as his limbs would carry him. The heat of Mistress Violet’s slap still burned across his backside, a physical reminder of her unyielding authority.

When he reached Samantha, he paused briefly at her feet, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he stared at her black heels. He lowered his head, pressing his lips to the pointed toe of her right shoe. “Good boy,” she murmured softly, though there was no missing the satisfaction in her tone. “Now the other.”

Daniel shuffled slightly, moving to kiss the left shoe with the same hesitant reverence. The humiliation of the act weighed heavily on him, made worse by the amused smile Samantha gave Mistress Violet as they watched him debase himself so thoroughly.

Mistress Violet smirked as she observed the scene. “Better. But for neglecting your wife earlier, Daniel, you will now lick her soles clean. Every inch of them. Do you understand me?”

Daniel’s head shot up, his face a mixture of horror and disbelief. “L-Lick… her soles, Mistress?”

Mistress Violet stood and strode over. SMACK! Her palm connected with his backside again, drawing a sharp yelp from him. “Am I unclear, Daniel? You will lick the soles of your wife’s shoes clean. It’s a fitting punishment for your neglect. You’ll show her the reverence she deserves.”

As Violet returned to her seat, Samantha raised her foot slightly, crossing one leg over the other to display the underside of her heel. “You heard her, darling,” she said smoothly, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Get to work.”

Daniel whimpered softly, his humiliation reaching new depths as he hesitated for the briefest moment. Mistress Violet’s sharp voice cut through the air again. “Now, Daniel. Or would you like me to fetch a cane and give you another reason to obey?”

“N-No, Mistress,” Daniel croaked. “I-I’ll do it.”

Slowly, he lowered himself further, his face inches from the sole of Samantha’s raised shoe. The bottom bore faint marks from the floor—dust, scuffs, and small imperfections that made the task even more degrading. Tentatively, Daniel extended his tongue, the tip making contact with the smooth leather.

“That’s it,” Mistress Violet purred, watching him closely. “Lick it clean, Daniel. Every inch.”

Daniel’s cheeks burned as he dragged his tongue across the sole of Samantha’s shoe, the bitter tang of dust and leather filling his mouth. He fought the urge to gag, forcing himself to comply as he licked slowly, methodically, from the tip of the toe to the arch. Samantha watched him with an air of quiet satisfaction, occasionally shifting her foot to make the task even harder.

As Daniel continued, carefully running his tongue along every inch of the arch, Samantha tilted her head thoughtfully. Then, with a slight flick of her ankle, she shifted her foot just out of his reach.

Daniel blinked in surprise, his tongue hovering awkwardly in the air. He hesitated, his pride fighting against the degrading scene unfolding. Samantha smirked and lifted her shoe a little lower, her heel tilting back so that the sole pointed toward the floor mockingly. Daniel whimpered softly but knew he had no choice. Slowly, he bent forward further, his body lowering until his cheek pressed against the cold, hard floor. His tongue reached desperately toward the edge of her sole, his breath warm against the smooth leather as he licked.

Mistress Violet chuckled softly behind him as she observed the humiliating display from her angle. “This is excellent, Samantha. Making him chase reinforces his submission—it shows that his dignity is yours to strip away, piece by piece.”

Daniel’s body trembled as he followed Samantha’s shoe across the floor, his face pressed low, his tongue darting out to make contact wherever she allowed. Every time he thought he had reached a spot, Samantha shifted again, forcing him to crawl further, stretch more awkwardly, and deepen his humiliation.

“That’s it,” Samantha cooed mockingly. “Look at you, chasing after my shoe like a little puppy. How does it feel, Daniel, knowing this is exactly where you belong?”

Daniel whimpered against the sole of her shoe, his voice muffled as he managed a broken, “I-I’m sorry, ma’am. Th-Thank you, ma’am.”

When he finished one sole, Samantha switched her legs, lifting the other foot and presenting it with a smirk. “Don’t stop now, darling. You still have one more to clean.”

Mistress Violet’s voice came in smoothly, firm as always. “Flatten yourself more, Daniel. Face to the ground. Let your shame deepen—you’ll learn to appreciate it.”

Daniel obeyed with a quiet sob, pressing his cheek flush to the cold floor, his body stretched awkwardly as he reached for Samantha’s other shoe. His tongue trembled as it ran along the sole, every scrape of dust and leather reinforcing his utter submission. The position was beyond debasing—his naked form splayed out, face to the floor, as both women looked on with cool satisfaction.

“Good boy,” Samantha murmured finally, letting her foot still just enough for him to finish. She reached down and gave his hair a condescending ruffle, as though rewarding a pet. “You see, Daniel? You’re finally learning your place. That’s exactly where you belong—at my feet.”

Daniel knelt there, cheeks burning, the taste of leather on his tongue, knowing that he had surrendered more of himself than ever before. His wife’s mocking gaze and Mistress Violet’s cold approval made it clear: his training was far from complete.

——

Mistress Violet rose gracefully from her chair, her polished black stiletto heels clicking against the floor. She looked down at Daniel, her expression calm but commanding, as she extended one finger and pointed to the ground at her feet.

“Heel, boy,” she said simply, her voice smooth and firm.

Daniel froze for a moment, his face flushed crimson, but the meaning of her words was unmistakable. Without hesitation, he moved to his hands and knees once more and crawled toward her. Reaching her side, he placed his face carefully next to her foot, his forehead nearly touching the floor as he pressed himself low in a show of complete submission. The glossy toe of her stiletto was mere inches from his nose, the faint scent of leather filling his senses as his breath trembled unevenly.

“That’s a good boy,” Mistress Violet murmured softly, her lips curling into a faint smile. “Stay close. I expect you to follow.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and began to walk toward a nearby doorway. The sharp click-click of her heels echoed through the room, a rhythm that Daniel instinctively followed as he crawled behind her, his face low and close to the ground as tried desperately to keep pace with her feet. The journey felt excruciatingly long—his humiliation deepening with every crawling step as Samantha watched the scene unfold, a smirk of satisfaction on her face.

Mistress Violet led him into the next room, which was dominated by a large leather spanking horse positioned perfectly in the center. The room’s atmosphere was one of quiet, restrained power. The horse’s smooth black leather gleamed under the light, its sturdy structure supported by broad, adjustable restraints at its sides. Along the walls, a display of tools—whips, paddles, straps—hinted at the punishments that could take place here.

Mistress Violet stopped in front of the horse and turned to Daniel. With a snap of her fingers, she issued her next command.

“Crawl up and straddle it.”

Daniel’s eyes widened slightly, but he obeyed immediately, shuffling forward on his hands and knees. He climbed awkwardly onto the horse, the smooth leather cool against his skin. He straddled it as ordered, his knees falling to either side of the padded surface. The position forced his legs apart, spreading him wide and leaving him feeling utterly exposed. His face burned hot, knowing both women were watching every movement.

Mistress Violet stepped behind him, her movements efficient and practiced. “Wrists first,” she instructed, securing each of his wrists to the sides of the horse with firm leather cuffs. The restraints were snug but not painful—just enough to ensure he couldn’t move.

Then she moved to his ankles, strapping each one tightly to the base of the horse. The leather cuffs tugged slightly against his skin as he tested the restraints instinctively, finding himself completely immobilized.

Finally, Mistress Violet raised a broad leather strap. “Lower back,” she stated matter-of-factly, pressing the thick band firmly across him. She pulled it tight, the pressure pushing him down into the horse’s curve and arching his backside upward into an even more vulnerable position. The strap cinched firmly into place, leaving him helpless, his bare, exposed bottom raised high and his knees spread wide.

“There,” Mistress Violet said approvingly, stepping back to admire her work. “Perfectly restrained. Samantha, do you see how this position forces submission? He has no choice but to offer himself completely.”

Samantha nodded, her eyes lingering on her husband’s immobilized form. “I do. It’s… ideal. He looks completely at your mercy.”

“He is,” Mistress Violet replied coolly, circling around the horse and trailing one gloved hand lightly across Daniel’s arched backside. “This position is not just physically exposing—it’s psychologically powerful. He can’t hide anything here. Vulnerability is part of the lesson.”

Daniel whimpered softly against the leather padding, his face flushed with shame as he felt Mistress Violet’s hand glide deliberately across him, pausing to tap lightly against his tender bottom and inner thighs.

“Good boy,” Mistress Violet murmured, her tone laced with quiet authority.

Her words hung ominously in the air as she stepped away, the sound of her heels echoing sharply as she moved toward the nearby wall to select her next instrument of instruction. Samantha, standing close, watched intently, her satisfaction clear as Daniel’s vulnerable position ensured he was completely, irrevocably under their control.

“We’ll begin by putting you in the proper submissive mindset.”

——

Mistress Violet’s hand trailed over an array of tools before she selected a long, supple leather whip. She turned to Samantha, who was watching intently from her chair. “Whipping is a very effective way to break resistance and put a submissive into the right mindset,” Mistress Violet explained, her tone calm and instructive. “It reminds them of their place and prepares them for deeper surrender.”

Daniel’s body tensed as he heard the snap of the whip being tested against the air. Mistress Violet stepped behind him, her voice soft but firm. “Breathe, Daniel. This is part of your training.”

With no further warning, the first lash landed across his bare backside. CRACK! Daniel cried out, his body jolting against the straps. The sting burned sharply, spreading across his skin.

Mistress Violet continued, delivering methodical, measured strokes. Each one landed with precision, leaving bright red welts that crisscrossed Daniel’s backside. Samantha leaned forward slightly, her lips parting as she observed Mistress Violet’s calm, practiced skill. “Notice how I’m varying the intensity,” Mistress Violet explained to Samantha between strokes. “You want to keep him guessing, not letting him anticipate what’s next.”

Daniel whimpered, his face pressed against the leather as the whipping continued, reducing him to quiet, submissive tears.

Finally, Mistress Violet stopped, placing the whip aside. “There,” she said smoothly. “I think he’s ready.”

——

Mistress Violet moved purposefully toward a nearby cabinet, opening it with an air of quiet precision. Daniel strained to look from his vulnerable position, still strapped securely to the leather spanking horse. His face flushed deeper as he caught sight of Mistress Violet retrieving a sleek black strap-on harness and an intimidatingly sized silicone dildo. She began fastening the harness around her waist, her movements practiced and confident.

Daniel whimpered softly, his face pressed against the leather of the horse, but Mistress Violet’s voice cut through his hesitation. “Quiet, Daniel. This is part of your training, and you will take it properly.”

Once the strap-on was secured, Mistress Violet circled around to the front of the spanking horse. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor, stopping directly in front of his face. “Lift your head and open your mouth,” she instructed, her tone calm but firm.

Daniel hesitated for the briefest of moments before Mistress Violet’s hand grasped his chin, tilting his head up sharply. Her gaze bore into him. “I said open your mouth.”

Trembling, Daniel obeyed, parting his lips as Mistress Violet brought the silicone shaft forward. The tip brushed against his mouth, and his cheeks burned hot with shame. “Good boy,” she murmured, guiding the strap-on between his lips slowly but deliberately. “You will take this into your mouth and learn to accept it. Breathe through your nose, and don’t resist me.”

The cool material pressed deeper as she eased it inside, filling his mouth inch by inch. Daniel gagged softly as the intrusion pushed against his tongue, but Mistress Violet held his head steady with her hand. “Relax,” she commanded smoothly. “You can take it. Submission requires patience and trust.”

Daniel’s breath came in slow, shaky gasps as Mistress Violet moved the strap-on gently, her pace deliberate as she ensured he adjusted to the sensation. Each movement reinforced his helplessness, his utter lack of control. The position of the spanking horse made it impossible for him to shift or retreat, leaving him completely at Mistress Violet’s mercy.

Samantha stepped closer, observing with fascination. “You make it look so natural,” she remarked. “How do you keep him from panicking?”

Mistress Violet withdrew the strap-on slightly, allowing Daniel to catch his breath, before answering calmly. “You maintain control—firm, but not overly harsh. Let him know you’re in charge, and guide him through it. Like this.” She pushed forward again, eliciting a soft gag from Daniel. “See? He’s learning to adjust.”

After a few minutes of methodical practice, Mistress Violet withdrew fully and stepped back. “He’s ready for you now,” she said to Samantha, her voice carrying an air of finality. “Come here. I’ll guide you through it.”

Samantha smiled eagerly and began donning her strap-on. Samantha’s movements were less practiced, but under Mistress Violet’s calm instruction, she secured the strap-on around her waist with growing confidence. The sleek silicone shaft jutted forward prominently, and she looked down at it with satisfaction. “It feels… powerful,” she murmured.

——

Mistress Violet stood beside Samantha, her posture poised and commanding, as Daniel remained bound to the leather spanking horse, his face flushed and eyes glistening with shame. The harnessed strap-on jutted forward from Samantha’s waist, a tangible symbol of her authority. Mistress Violet’s calm, instructive voice filled the air.

“There’s a technique I want you to teach him now, Samantha,” she said, her eyes fixed on Daniel. “Proper oral submission begins with presentation. He needs to learn how to position his mouth correctly, showing obedience and care. Daniel,” she snapped sharply, “look at me.”

Daniel’s head lifted with difficulty, trembling as Mistress Violet’s intense gaze held him in place. “You will open your mouth wide and form a proper ‘O’ with your lips. No teeth, do you understand? I do not want to see even the faintest glimpse of them.”

Daniel swallowed hard, his face crimson. “Y-Yes, Mistress…”

“Show me,” she said firmly.

Daniel hesitated before parting his lips slowly, stretching them into a wide “O.” It felt awkward, unnatural, and his jaw already began to quiver.

Mistress Violet clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Unacceptable. You’re not trying hard enough. Samantha, stand here with me and watch closely.”

Samantha stepped up beside her mentor, her arms crossed as she observed. Mistress Violet moved in front of Daniel, bending slightly at the waist to lower her face to his eye level. “Watch me, boy,” she said smoothly. Her face was mere inches from his, her piercing eyes locking onto his trembling, shame-filled expression. Slowly, deliberately, she parted her lips into a perfect, exaggerated “O,” demonstrating exactly what she demanded.

“Watch,” she murmured, her voice soft but laced with authority. Her lips remained rounded, smooth, and inviting as she held the shape effortlessly. “This is the form I expect from you, Daniel—no teeth, no tension. Soft, obedient lips. Understand?”

Daniel’s breath caught in his throat as his gaze fell to her mouth, perfectly framed and held just in front of his face. His heart pounded violently as his thoughts betrayed him. In spite of the sheer humiliation of his position, a sudden and powerful image flashed in his mind—his cock sliding between Mistress Violet’s soft, inviting lips. The way her mouth curved so deliberately, so expertly, teased him in ways he couldn’t suppress. He imagined the warmth, the wetness, the way she’d control him even in that act, taking him effortlessly and reducing him to nothing more than a quivering wreck.

His cheeks flushed deep crimson, and his eyes darted down for the briefest of moments before snapping back to her gaze. Mistress Violet, perceptive as ever, narrowed her eyes slightly, her lips still held in that perfect “O.”

“Something distracting you, boy?” she asked coolly, her tone cutting through the haze in his mind like a knife.

“N-No, Mistress!” Daniel stammered, his voice trembling as he tried to look away.

Mistress Violet’s smirk deepened, her expression turning knowing. “I think I see what’s happening here,” she said slowly, her voice tinged with amusement. “You’re forgetting your place, aren’t you? I can see it in your eyes.” Mistress Violet straightened, her gaze still fixed firmly on Daniel’s crimson face. “It seems your husband’s imagination is getting the better of him,” she said smoothly, brushing the tips of her fingers across his cheek. “It happens sometimes when a submissive forgets that his role is not to fantasize but to serve.”

Daniel’s face burned hotter, and he shook his head quickly. “N-No, ma’am, I—”

Mistress Violet’s sharp eyes narrowed as she observed Daniel’s telltale blush and the flicker of shame in his eyes. The moment hung heavy, Daniel trembling under her piercing gaze. Without warning, her demeanor shifted—her calm, composed exterior giving way to something far more sudden and severe.

Without a word, she turned sharply on her heel, the quick click of her stilettos echoing through the room as she strode to the nearby wall. From a rack of implements, she selected a long, thin cane, the flexible rattan rod hissing faintly as she gave it a practiced swish through the air. The sound alone made Daniel flinch, his breath catching in his throat.

Samantha’s lips curled into an intrigued smile as she stepped back, watching the scene unfold.

Mistress Violet turned to face Daniel again, the cane held loosely in one hand, her expression cold and unyielding. “It seems you’ve forgotten yourself,” she said softly, her voice edged with steel. “Let me remind you.”

Daniel’s eyes widened, panic flashing across his face as he realized what was coming. Before he could speak—before he could even beg—Mistress Violet moved.

CRACK!

The first stroke of the cane landed with a ferocity that shocked Daniel, the thin rod whipping across the center of his already reddened backside with an audible snap. A shriek tore from his throat as his body jerked against the restraints of the spanking horse.

There was no pause.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

The next three strokes came in rapid succession, the cane biting into his flesh with precision, each one landing parallel to the last, the burning lines of fire searing deeper into his bottom. Daniel’s cries grew louder, raw and unrestrained, echoing through the room as his body trembled violently against the leather padding.

Mistress Violet’s movements were fluid, unrelenting.

CRACK!

The fifth stroke cut across the lower curve of his backside, drawing a near-sob from Daniel as tears began to stream down his face. His voice broke into desperate, wordless cries, but there was no reprieve.

CRACK!

The sixth and final stroke struck the sensitive crease where his backside met his thighs, sending a sharp shockwave of pain through his entire body. Daniel shrieked, his legs trembling helplessly as the marks bloomed into deep crimson welts across his bare skin.

And then it was over.

Mistress Violet lowered the cane with deliberate calm, the room falling eerily silent save for Daniel’s ragged, broken sobs. The mercurial shift was instantaneous—her cold severity melted away as she set the cane aside and stepped toward him, her demeanor softening as though the thrashing had never happened.

“There now,” she murmured soothingly, running her hand gently over his welted, burning backside. Her fingers traced the raised lines with surprising tenderness, each touch sending a mix of relief and humiliation coursing through Daniel. “It’s over. You took that well.”

Daniel let out a shaky sob, his face damp with tears, his body still trembling as Mistress Violet continued to stroke the marked flesh, her voice soft and almost maternal.

“Your place is to focus, to obey, and to surrender fully,” she said gently, as though comforting him. “Disobedience or distraction will not be tolerated. But you’ll learn. I’ll make sure of it.”

Samantha stepped forward, her voice tinged with admiration as she observed Daniel’s shaking form. “You’re incredible,” she said to Mistress Violet. “I’ve never seen anyone switch so seamlessly between punishment and care.”

Mistress Violet smiled faintly, her hand still gently rubbing Daniel’s raw, welted bottom. “Discipline isn’t just about punishment—it’s about reinforcement. He needs to know he’s cared for, even in his correction.”

She leaned down slightly, her face close to Daniel’s ear as she spoke in that soft, soothing tone. “You’re a good boy for taking that, Daniel. You’ll remember this lesson, won’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Daniel sobbed softly, his voice cracked and broken, his entire body limp against the restraints.

Mistress Violet straightened, her gloved hand giving his bottom one final, tender pat before turning to Samantha. “He’s ready for you now,” she said with a calm, satisfied smile. “Shall we continue?”

Samantha nodded eagerly as Daniel quivered in the aftermath of his swift and merciless correction.

“Make a nice ‘O’ for your wife, Daniel,” Mistress Violet urged.

Daniel, trembling with effort and shame, widened his mouth again, carefully hiding his teeth this time and forming a more deliberate ‘O’.

“Better,” Mistress Violet remarked coolly. “But you need practice. Samantha, it’s time to take over. Position yourself in front of him, and we’ll train him properly.”

Samantha stepped forward, her confidence growing with every instruction. She grasped Daniel’s chin firmly, tilting his face upward so he was forced to look at her. “Open your mouth,” she said sternly. “Big ‘O’, no teeth. Now.”

Daniel obeyed, his lips stretching wide into the humiliating shape as Samantha inspected him critically. “Hold it like that,” she instructed. “Mistress Violet, what’s next?”

“Place the tip of the strap-on against his lips,” Mistress Violet said, her voice smooth. “You’ll use it to ensure he maintains the proper shape. If he slips, correct him immediately.”

Samantha nodded and stepped closer, the silicone tip hovering just in front of Daniel’s trembling mouth. “Stay open, Daniel,” she warned, brushing the tip lightly against his lips. “Do not close. Do not let me see your teeth.”

Mistress Violet circled behind Samantha, observing with satisfaction. “Start gently, Samantha. Guide it in slowly. The moment you feel resistance or see his mouth waver, stop and correct him.”

Samantha began pushing forward carefully, the tip of the strap-on pressing against Daniel’s soft, rounded lips. He whimpered faintly, his jaw quivering with the effort of maintaining the humiliating shape.

“There,” Mistress Violet said approvingly. “Notice how the shape of his lips adjusts. You can use small movements to guide him—back and forth—while watching for any slip in form.”

Samantha did exactly as instructed, withdrawing slightly and then easing forward again. Daniel’s lips stayed wide and soft, though his face burned with shame as the silicone shaft pushed in and out, training him to keep the perfect “O” shape.

“Good boy,” Samantha murmured after a moment, her tone calm but teasing. “You’re learning.”

Daniel whimpered softly in response, his lips still obediently stretched around the silicone.

Mistress Violet nodded approvingly. “He’s making progress, but you must be relentless. Any time you see him falter—whether in form, enthusiasm, or focus—correct him immediately. A light slap to the cheek or a firm tug of his hair will do.”

Samantha smiled, clearly enjoying her newfound authority. She brushed a hand over Daniel’s damp hair, fingers curling briefly at the nape of his neck. “You heard her, Daniel. This is your new training, and I expect perfection. Understood?”

Daniel whimpered a faint, muffled, “Yesh, ma’am,” around the strap-on, his lips still holding the required shape.

“Good,” Mistress Violet said, her voice smooth and final. “Now continue until he learns to hold it without effort. It will become second nature soon enough.”

Samantha smirked, pressing the tip of the strap-on forward again, while Daniel’s lips remained stretched in the wide “O,” his body trembling with shame and submission. The training had only just begun, and it was already clear to him that his wife—and Mistress Violet—would accept nothing short of total obedience.

Samantha eased the shaft again between Daniel’s lips, her movements tentative at first, but as she gained confidence, her pace grew smoother. Daniel whimpered softly, a faint gag escaping him as the silicone filled his mouth. Samantha paused, glancing toward Mistress Violet. “What if he gags too much?”

“That’s normal,” Mistress Violet replied. “Pull back slightly, let him catch his breath, and then continue. The point is to push his limits without overwhelming him entirely.”

Samantha did as instructed, withdrawing just enough to allow Daniel to breathe before guiding the strap-on forward again. “You’re doing well, Daniel,” she murmured, her voice laced with satisfaction. “You’re learning to accept me.”

Mistress Violet nodded approvingly. “Very good, Samantha. You’re already commanding him naturally. Keep this up, and he’ll soon understand exactly who he belongs to.”

Daniel’s face flushed as the humiliation deepened, his breathing labored as he accepted his wife’s control. The sensation of the strap-on moving deliberately in and out of his mouth, coupled with Samantha’s firm hand guiding him, made it clear that his submission was now total—and irrevocable.

——

As Samantha continued her steady movements, the silicone shaft of her strap-on pressing in and out of Daniel’s obediently open mouth, Mistress Violet stepped calmly toward the cabinet once more. The soft rustle of her hands echoed faintly as she retrieved a fresh pair of latex gloves, her demeanor composed and purposeful.

“Samantha,” Mistress Violet said smoothly, her heels clicking softly on the floor as she circled behind Daniel, “keep your strap-on in his mouth. I’m going to prepare him for rear entry.”

Samantha glanced up, a smirk curling across her lips as she absorbed Mistress Violet’s meaning. “Simultaneously?” she asked, an unmistakable note of satisfaction in her voice.

“Exactly,” Mistress Violet replied softly, her gloved fingers snapping into place. “We’ll teach him how to serve us properly—front and back. His body will learn to yield without resistance.”

Daniel let out a muffled whimper around Samantha’s strap-on, his trembling body betraying his anxiety. Bound tightly to the leather spanking horse with his wrists, ankles, and lower back secured, there was no escape—his backside remained raised and spread wide, leaving him impossibly exposed.

Mistress Violet stepped back from Daniel’s trembling, restrained form. She raised a hand, gesturing for Samantha to withdraw for a moment. “Samantha,” she said smoothly, her tone calm but authoritative, “step back just for a moment.”

Samantha arched an eyebrow, but complied, withdrawing the strap-on from Daniel’s mouth with a soft, slick sound. Daniel gasped faintly, his jaw trembling, his lips still held in the perfect “O” shape he’d been trained to maintain. His face was flushed, his breath shaky as he sagged slightly against the leather padding of the spanking horse.

Mistress Violet moved to a nearby drawer and retrieved a small foil packet—a condom—before turning back to Daniel. Her heels clicked softly on the floor, the sound alone commanding his full attention. She approached his face, opening the condom package and pulling it out.

“Open your mouth, Daniel,” she instructed softly, though her tone left no room for hesitation. “Wouldn’t want to put a baby in your bum.”

Daniel swallowed nervously, then opened wide, the familiar shape forming on his lips as his mouth trembled. Mistress Violet leaned in, her hand guiding the condom carefully between his lips. “Now, close gently. Hold it between the outside of your teeth and your inner lips—do not let it drop. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Daniel whispered around the condom which brushed faintly against his tongue. His lips remained stretched and pursed as he held it delicately in place, desperate not to falter.

Mistress Violet pressed the tip of the dildo against the condom held between Daniel’s parted lips, allowing him to slide it onto the tip of the dildo. “Now,” she continued calmly, “I want you to roll this condom onto me using only your mouth. Your lips will guide it all the way to the base—no teeth, no hands, just obedience.”

Daniel’s eyes widened slightly, but with Mistress Violet’s gaze locking onto his, there was no room for resistance. Slowly, he leaned forward, his lips pursed carefully around the condom. He worked the latex down, his movements tentative and awkward at first as he stretched his mouth wider to accommodate the imposing girth of the silicone shaft.

Mistress Violet remained perfectly still, her voice soft but encouraging. “Use your lips, boy. Be deliberate. Take it in slowly and roll it down smoothly—no fumbling.”

Daniel let out a quiet whimper, his lips trembling as they pressed forward. The condom slipped further onto the dildo, stretching deeper into his mouth, forcing him to lean in further and further. The tip brushed against the back of his throat, and he gagged momentarily, his face flush with effort as he worked the latex inch by inch toward the base.

“Good,” Mistress Violet praised softly. “Keep going. You’re almost there.”

Samantha watched the scene unfold with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction, her arms crossed as she observed her husband’s desperate attempts to obey. “Look at him,” she murmured. “So eager to please.”

Daniel’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he reached the final stretch, his lips brushing against the smooth base of the strap-on. His jaw ached, his throat worked to suppress a gag, but he didn’t dare falter. With a final, deliberate press, the condom rolled fully into place, leaving the silicone shaft sheathed perfectly beneath his trembling lips.

Mistress Violet tilted his chin up gently with one gloved finger, forcing him to look at her. “There,” she murmured approvingly, a small smile playing at her lips. “You’ve done well, Daniel. You’re learning to obey without hesitation. This is exactly the control I expect from you.”

She stepped back slightly, her voice carrying an air of quiet triumph as she turned to Samantha. “He’s ready now. Let’s proceed.”

Samantha smirked, stepping forward once more and inserting her dildo between his perfectly pursed lips as Mistress Violet moved behind Daniel, the faint sound of a bottle cap flipping open filling the air once again. The cool slickness of lubricant was soon poured generously across his clean, vulnerable entrance, and Daniel flinched at the unexpected sensation.

“Relax,” Mistress Violet murmured soothingly, her gloved fingers spreading the lubricant slowly and methodically over his sensitive anus. “You’ll take this properly. Submission is about surrendering your body as much as your will.”

Samantha, still holding her strap-on steady in Daniel’s mouth, tilted her head with amusement. “You hear that, Daniel? You’re going to serve both of us now. You should be grateful for the privilege.”

Mistress Violet pressed the cool tips of her fingers against his lubricated entrance, circling carefully as she worked the slick substance into his skin. Daniel whimpered softly, his face flushed with fresh humiliation as the gentle but deliberate pressure began.

“Breathe through your nose,” Mistress Violet instructed, her voice calm and steady. “Tensing will only make it harder.”

With clinical precision, she began to apply firmer pressure, slipping one gloved finger inside him. Daniel gasped softly around Samantha’s strap-on, his body stiffening at the intrusion.

“Shh,” Mistress Violet cooed softly, the finger easing in further. “That’s it. You’re opening up nicely. You’ll take us both soon enough.”

Samantha smirked down at Daniel, her hand brushing lightly through his hair as she guided her strap-on just a little deeper. “You’re doing so well, darling,” she teased mockingly. “See how Mistress Violet is helping you? You’ll be ready for us in no time.”

Mistress Violet added more lubricant, sliding her finger in and out with steady, deliberate movements. “The key is to be slow but insistent,” she explained to Samantha, her tone instructive. “You stretch him gradually, ensuring he’s fully prepared. Rushing will only cause resistance.”

She slipped a second finger inside him, stretching him wider as Daniel’s body trembled helplessly against the leather. His breathing came in ragged bursts, his muffled cries lost around the silicone shaft filling his mouth.

“Good boy,” Mistress Violet murmured approvingly, her fingers scissoring gently to loosen his tight muscles. “You’re opening beautifully. Soon you’ll take us both without issue.”

Samantha’s smirk deepened as she watched her husband’s humiliation grow. “You’re going to look so perfect between us, Daniel. Serving me in the front and Mistress Violet behind you.”

Mistress Violet withdrew her fingers briefly, adding a fresh layer of lubricant before pressing back against his entrance. “Almost ready,” she said softly. “One more adjustment, and you’ll be fully prepared.”

Daniel sobbed softly, his face streaked with tears of humiliation as Mistress Violet worked him open. The sensation of her gloved fingers stretching and lubricating him left no question of what was to come—he would serve them both simultaneously, his body offering complete and utter submission.

“Perfect,” Mistress Violet said at last, withdrawing her fingers and giving his quivering backside a gentle, satisfied pat. “You’re ready enough now, Daniel.”

Samantha nodded, her voice laced with authority and amusement. “You hear that, Daniel? You’re going to serve us like the good boy you’re learning to be. And you’ll take everything we give you.”

——

Mistress Violet moved with deliberate grace as she approached Daniel’s exposed and vulnerable backside, now glistening with lubricant. The sound of the strap-on harness being adjusted filled the air as she fastened it around her hips with precision. The silicone shaft jutted forward proudly, its bulbous tip slick and shining as she prepared to claim him fully.

Samantha remained in her position in front of him, her hand resting gently against his damp hair as the silicone shaft of her own strap-on pressed rhythmically between his lips. “You’re doing so well, Daniel,” she cooed, her voice a mix of teasing and authority. “Keep that mouth working for me. Mistress Violet is going to take care of the rest.”

Mistress Violet stepped up behind Daniel, her gloved hands gliding over the curve of his trembling, stretched backside. “Relax now, Daniel,” she murmured softly, her voice low and soothing. “You’ll take me slowly, inch by inch. If you tense up, it will only make things harder for you.”

Daniel whimpered softly around Samantha’s strap-on, his breath uneven as Mistress Violet gently spread his cheeks with her hands, exposing him fully to her. Her fingers, slick with lubricant, brushed lightly against his opening again, the tender touch making him flinch slightly.

“You’re ready for this,” Mistress Violet said calmly, her tone almost kind. “You’ll open for me beautifully. Just breathe and let go.”

She placed the bulbous tip of the strap-on against his lubricated entrance, holding it there for a moment—firm but unmoving. Daniel’s body tensed instinctively, a faint, muffled whimper escaping him, but Mistress Violet didn’t push. Instead, she gently massaged his hips with her hands, her voice calm and controlled. “Breathe, Daniel. Let your body yield.”

Samantha watched with rapt attention, her expression smug as she kept the shaft in Daniel’s mouth, gently guiding his lips to maintain the perfect “O” shape. “Listen to her, darling. You’re here to accept us. You can do it.”

Mistress Violet began to apply a subtle pressure, letting the tip of the strap-on bump softly against his entrance. She moved it in tiny, teasing circles, testing his resistance and encouraging his body to relax further. “That’s it,” she murmured soothingly. “Don’t fight it. Let yourself open for me.”

The sensation built slowly—each tiny nudge of the bulbous tip coaxing him to surrender. Daniel’s breath came in ragged gasps around Samantha’s strap-on, his body trembling as Mistress Violet pressed a little firmer.

“There we go,” she whispered softly, a note of satisfaction in her voice. “You’re starting to bloom for me now.”

With painstaking slowness, the silicone tip began to press inward. Mistress Violet’s patience was unyielding as she pushed gently, stopping each time Daniel’s body tensed, then continuing as she felt him relax again. The soft, slick pressure grew more insistent, and Daniel’s whimpers deepened, muffled as they were by the shaft in his mouth.

“Good boy,” Mistress Violet praised as she worked. “You’re opening for me beautifully. Just like that. Slowly now…”

The resistance at his entrance gave way bit by bit, his body responding to her methodical coaxing. The bulbous tip stretched him gently, pressing firmly but tenderly until, finally, his tight ring of muscle began to yield. Mistress Violet’s gloved hands parted his rear cheeks widely to afford a better view as she further encouraged him, her voice calm and encouraging. “There it is… You’re opening up like a flower, Daniel. Just like I knew you would.”

Samantha, standing confidently at his front, kept her strap-on firmly in place between Daniel’s pursed lips. Her gaze flicked up and over his bent form, her eyes wide with amazement as she watched Mistress Violet work with practiced precision.

“Look at that,” Samantha murmured, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “His tight little hole is actually starting to swallow it.”

Mistress Violet smiled faintly, her hands steady as she maintained the perfect view of his virginal penetration. “It’s all about patience and control,” she replied calmly, guiding the bulbous tip forward just enough to apply gentle but unrelenting pressure. “His body will yield. It always does.”

Daniel’s whimper grew louder as he felt the blunt head of the dildo begin to stretch him, pressing insistently against his taut ring of muscle. For a moment, the resistance held firm, his body quivering against the steady push. Mistress Violet held her position, her hands keeping him spread wide, ensuring nothing could obstruct the view of his slow surrender.

“There it is…” Mistress Violet murmured, a note of satisfaction in her voice. “Watch closely, Samantha. He’s starting to bloom for me.”

Samantha leaned in slightly, her expression transfixed as the tight ring of Daniel’s anus began to give way. Slowly—agonizingly slowly—his body yielded to the relentless pressure of the bulbous tip. The slick, glistening shaft pressed inward, parting him with a deliberate inevitability.

“Oh my,” Samantha whispered, her voice almost reverent as she watched. “It’s actually opening. His body’s taking all of it.”

Mistress Violet nodded approvingly, her voice calm and patient as she maintained the pace. “That’s it, Daniel. You’re doing so well. Let yourself open—like a flower. Don’t fight it.”

Daniel let out a muffled sob around the silicone shaft Samantha held firmly in his mouth, his face flushed with humiliation and exertion. His tears, which had begun as silent trickles, now spilled freely down his cheeks, splashing onto the leather padding beneath him. The slow, unstoppable sensation of his body being penetrated so completely—so deeply—overwhelmed him. The realization hit hard: he was powerless, fully claimed, and there was no part of himself he could hold back anymore.

“Look at him,” Samantha said, her voice laced with awe and mockery as she gazed down at her husband’s tear-streaked face. “He’s crying. Aren’t you, darling? You’re feeling it, aren’t you? Letting go completely.”

Mistress Violet’s voice was soft but firm, an anchor of authority in the storm of Daniel’s emotions. “Those tears are good, Daniel. You’re not crying from pain—you’re crying because you’re giving in. You’re surrendering completely, and your body knows it.”

Another muffled sob escaped him as Mistress Violet continued, the silicone shaft sliding deeper with steady precision. Daniel’s sobs mixed with broken, ragged breaths, his trembling body rocking between the two women. Samantha’s strap-on pressed rhythmically against his lips, forcing him to maintain the wide, obedient “O” shape he’d been trained into, while Mistress Violet’s presence behind him left no question of his submission.

“You’re doing so well,” Mistress Violet cooed softly, her hands still holding him wide, ensuring nothing obstructed their view of his virginal penetration. “Your body is opening for me beautifully—taking everything I give you. That’s what submission feels like, Daniel. Giving yourself over completely, without resistance.”

Daniel’s tears flowed heavier, his shoulders shaking against the restraints. The weight of the moment crashed over him, drowning him in emotion. He was giving in—completely, utterly, to both women. There was no fight left in him, no walls to hide behind. The last vestiges of control he’d held onto crumbled, leaving him feeling exposed, vulnerable, and claimed in every way.

Daniel’s breath came in ragged, muffled gasps around the silicone shaft in his mouth. His body shivered beneath them, but the spreading sensation was undeniable. The bulbous tip slid further, pressing deeper until, finally, his trembling opening stretched wide enough to swallow it. The moment hung heavy in the air as his taut muscles closed tightly around the base of the head, accepting the first stage of penetration.

“There it is,” Mistress Violet said with a small, satisfied smile, watching as his body finally yielded. The strap-on slid fully inside him now, stretching him, filling him in a way he’d never imagined. “You’ve taken me. Look at how perfectly you’re opening up, Daniel. Your body has accepted its place.”

Samantha smirked down at him, her tone both triumphant and teasing. “Cry all you want, darling,” she murmured, brushing her fingers across his damp cheek. “It suits you—serving us so completely.”

Daniel let out one final, shuddering sob—his tears soaking the leather beneath him—as he accepted it fully. There was no resistance left, no lingering fight. His body, stretched and filled, belonged to them, and the overwhelming emotions of his complete surrender poured out of him in waves.

“Shh,” she murmured, her hands steadying him. “Breathe, Daniel. You’re doing so well.”

Samantha smirked down at him, brushing her hand through his hair. “Look at you, Daniel. Taking us both like a good boy. This is exactly where you belong.”

Mistress Violet’s gloved hands held Daniel’s cheeks spread wide, her grip firm yet deliberate, ensuring there was no obstruction to the view of his stretched, trembling entrance. His body, slicked and lubricated, had been coaxed open with unyielding patience, and now his once-tight, virginal ring of muscle was wrapped snugly around the impossibly thick girth of the dildo.

The sight was one of perfect contrast—the dark, bulbous shaft disappearing into the pale, flushed skin of his exposed backside. His stretched hole, red and quivering from the strain, clung desperately to the silicone, his body instinctively trying to resist and yet unable to do anything but yield. The taut rim of his anus formed a trembling, circular seal around the base of the dildo’s head, the muscles fluttering faintly with each involuntary spasm as his body tried to adjust.

Mistress Violet tilted her head slightly, her expression calm and composed as she observed the scene she had orchestrated. “Look at that,” she said softly, her voice laced with satisfaction. “His body is stretched perfectly—taking every inch of it.”

Samantha leaned forward slightly from her position at the front, her eyes wide with fascination and amusement as she gazed at her husband’s vulnerable, penetrated form. “I can’t believe he’s managing to take something that size,” she murmured. “It’s like his hole was made for it.”

Mistress Violet’s hands shifted slightly, pulling his cheeks just a little wider to emphasize the way his stretched entrance hugged the silicone shaft. The strain on his muscles was evident, every trembling inch of his exposed flesh a testament to his complete surrender. The way his body sealed around the unyielding girth gave the impression of reluctant acceptance of something far greater than he could control. The slick sheen of lubricant coated the stretched flesh, glistening faintly under the soft lighting, as if highlighting the strain his body was under to accommodate Mistress Violet’s relentless instruction.

Samantha let out a quiet, incredulous laugh, her eyes riveted on the sight. “It’s incredible,” she said softly, brushing a hand gently through Daniel’s damp hair as she spoke. “He’s so small back there… and yet he’s taken it so completely.”

Daniel whimpered faintly, his face buried against the leather padding, his body trembling as his wife’s words washed over him. The shame of his stretched, exposed hole being held open and admired so clinically by the two women sent a fresh wave of tears trickling down his flushed cheeks.

Mistress Violet remained poised behind Daniel, her gloved hands trailing lightly along his trembling, stretched cheeks as she admired the sight of his thoroughly claimed, slicked entrance. The bulbous head of the dildo was buried snugly within him, his body clinging tightly, the strain and surrender etched into every quivering inch of his exposed flesh.

“Now,” Mistress Violet said softly, her tone dropping to something almost predatory, “you’re going to learn what it means to be properly fucked.”

——

Daniel’s breath hitched sharply, his body tensing against the restraints as her words sank in. Samantha’s smirk widened as she stood confidently in front of him, the strap-on still firmly held against his lips. She brushed a hand through his hair, gripping gently but possessively at the roots.

“You hear that, darling?” Samantha teased, her voice dripping with mockery. “You’ve taken it so well so far. Now Mistress Violet is going to show you just how much more you can handle.”

Mistress Violet ran one gloved hand up the curve of Daniel’s back, her touch deceptively soft as she reassured him in that calm, instructive tone. “Relax, Daniel. You’ve already opened for me. You’ve taken the first step. Now your body is ready to accept everything I give you. There’s no reason to fight it.”

Daniel let out a muffled whimper around the silicone shaft in his mouth, his face flushed and tear-streaked as he realized the inevitability of what was coming. His entire body tensed briefly, but the restraints binding his wrists, ankles, and lower back kept him in place—helpless, vulnerable, and open.

Mistress Violet’s gloved hands moved to his hips, holding him firmly as she positioned herself. The thick, slickened shaft pressed against him again, but this time with purpose, no longer just coaxing him open. She began to push forward, her movements deliberate and unyielding. The resistance in his body fought for just a moment before giving way, the silicone sliding deeper into his stretched, trembling hole.

“Ahh—” Daniel’s muffled cry broke free as Mistress Violet’s hips pressed firmly forward, the sensation overwhelming him as the length of the strap-on drove deeper into him than before. His body spasmed against the restraints, but Mistress Violet didn’t relent.

“Breathe,” she instructed coolly, her voice calm as she paused for a brief moment. “You can take this. You will take this.”

Samantha’s eyes were wide with fascination as she watched her husband’s body slowly yield, taking more and more of the silicone shaft. “Incredible,” she murmured, brushing the tip of her strap-on teasingly against his lips. “Look at him—taking it so deeply. You’re being such a good boy for us, Daniel.”

Mistress Violet smirked faintly, her gloved hands gripping his hips with steady authority as she began to move. She withdrew slightly, the slick silicone sliding out just enough to create an unbearable emptiness before pushing back in with deliberate force. The rhythm started slow but firm, her hips driving the strap-on deeper with every thrust.

“Do you feel that, Daniel?” she murmured, her voice low and commanding as she began to thrust with greater confidence. “This is what it means to be properly fucked. Your body isn’t yours anymore. It’s ours to use—to train—to claim.”

Daniel sobbed brokenly against the leather padding, his face flushed with shame and tears as Mistress Violet’s steady thrusts rocked his restrained body forward. Samantha, in front of him, pressed the silicone shaft of her strap-on fully into his mouth as she matched Violet’s movements with a mocking smile.

“Work harder, darling,” Samantha teased, her fingers curling into his hair to hold his head still. “If Mistress Violet is putting in the effort behind you, the least you can do is serve me properly.”

Mistress Violet’s rhythm quickened, each thrust deliberate and unrelenting, filling Daniel completely with every stroke. The sound of her hips meeting his backside echoed faintly through the room, mingling with Daniel’s muffled sobs and whimpers. Her voice remained soft but firm, a steady cadence of control.

“You’re taking it beautifully,” Mistress Violet praised, her tone laced with satisfaction. “Your body is learning, Daniel—learning to accept its place. This is what true submission feels like. Completely open. Completely used.”

Samantha laughed softly, tilting Daniel’s face upward just slightly as she pressed further into his mouth. “Listen to her, Daniel,” she cooed mockingly. “You are learning. Look at you—serving both of us at the same time, taking everything we give you. Isn’t this what you were made for?”

Mistress Violet’s pace built to a steady, relentless rhythm, the thick shaft claiming him fully with each deep thrust. Daniel’s body quivered helplessly beneath her hands, his mind overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled so completely—front and back—his submission laid bare for both women to witness.

Daniel sobbed softly around Samantha’s strap-on, his body trembling under Mistress Violet’s unrelenting rhythm. His resistance was gone, his submission absolute, as the two women took him—together—showing him what it truly meant to surrender everything.

——

Mistress Violet’s rhythm began to slow, her deliberate thrusts easing as she paused, resting her gloved hands gently on Daniel’s trembling hips. His sobs were softer now, his body utterly limp and spent, fully surrendered to their control. Samantha watched intently, still holding her strap-on firmly in place between Daniel’s obedient lips, the power in the moment radiating from her poised stance.

Mistress Violet broke the silence, her voice low and commanding but with a hint of amusement. “I think it’s time we exchange places, Samantha.”

Samantha’s brow lifted slightly, a pleased smile spreading across her lips as she looked down at her husband’s tear-streaked face. “Exchange?” she echoed, her tone laced with intrigue.

Mistress Violet straightened, the slick silicone shaft sliding out of Daniel’s stretched entrance with an audible sound that made him shudder. She gave his quivering backside an appreciative pat, the smack gentle but deliberate. “Yes. You’ve watched me long enough—it’s time for you to take control from behind. I’ll take your place in front.”

Samantha’s smirk grew wider as she withdrew the strap-on from Daniel’s mouth with a smooth, teasing motion. Daniel gasped sharply, his lips trembling and raw from their prolonged “O” shape, the absence of the silicone shaft leaving him momentarily disoriented.

“You hear that, darling?” Samantha purred as she stepped back, already loosening the harness around her hips. “Mistress Violet thinks it’s time I claim you fully from behind.”

Daniel whimpered softly, his face still buried against the leather of the spanking horse. His restrained body shuddered faintly as Mistress Violet circled around to take Samantha’s place. The subtle sound of her heels clicking against the floor made him flinch, a reminder of her ever-present authority.

Mistress Violet stood in front of Daniel, one gloved hand reaching to tilt his tear-streaked face upward gently. “You’ll serve me with that mouth now, Daniel,” she said softly, though her tone still carried the weight of command. “You’ll show me just how much you’ve learned.” With that she stripped the condom off her dildo and put it aside.

Meanwhile, Samantha approached Daniel’s exposed, vulnerable backside with deliberate steps. The thick, slickened shaft jutted confidently from her hips, its gleam promising no reprieve. She paused behind him, admiring the view of his quivering, reddened cheeks and stretched hole.

“You’ve been prepared so thoroughly,” Samantha said mockingly, her voice low as she ran her hand across the curve of his backside. “Mistress Violet’s done such a wonderful job of opening you up. Now it’s my turn.”

Mistress Violet smiled faintly as she observed Samantha’s growing confidence. “Take your time, Samantha. He’s already stretched, but his body is still learning. Guide him firmly but carefully—you’re in control now.”

Samantha gripped Daniel’s hips possessively, aligning the tip of the silicone shaft against his still-glistening entrance. Daniel whimpered audibly, the sound shaky and desperate, but Samantha’s smirk only deepened.

“Relax, darling,” she teased, echoing Mistress Violet’s earlier words. “You’ll take me just as you took her. Your body knows what to do now.”

She began to press forward, the broad head of the strap-on meeting his slick, stretched ring of muscle with gentle but unrelenting pressure. Daniel whimpered again, his body instinctively tensing before surrendering to the familiar sensation. The bulbous tip slid past his entrance with an ease that surprised Samantha, eliciting a gasp of satisfaction from her.

“Oh,” Samantha breathed, her hands tightening on his hips. “You really are ready for me.”

Behind him, Samantha began to push deeper, her movements tentative at first as she felt his body yield to her. The slick friction and the way his stretched opening hugged the silicone shaft sent a thrill through her, her confidence growing with every inch she claimed.

At the same time, Mistress Violet’s hand guided Daniel’s head gently toward her hips. “Open your mouth again,” she instructed smoothly. “You’ll continue serving—properly.”

Daniel, tear-streaked and humiliated beyond measure, obeyed without hesitation, parting his lips into the wide “O” shape that had been drilled into him. Mistress Violet held his chin steady as she pressed the silicone shaft of her own strap-on against his lips, sliding it in with calm precision.

“There,” Mistress Violet murmured approvingly, brushing her gloved fingers through his hair as she filled his mouth. “You’re serving both of us again, Daniel. Exactly as you should.”

Samantha’s rhythm behind him grew more confident, her thrusts firm but controlled as she worked her hips forward, filling him inch by inch. The sounds of their movements—slick and deliberate—mingled with Daniel’s muffled whimpers and shuddering breaths as he was claimed fully from both ends.

Mistress Violet smiled down at him as she maintained her position in front, her voice soft but dripping with satisfaction. “You’re doing so well, Daniel. Taking us both like a good boy. Look at how completely you’ve surrendered.”

Samantha let out a quiet laugh behind him, her thrusts now smooth and steady, perfectly matching the rhythm Violet had established earlier. “You feel that, Daniel?” she teased. “This is where you belong—serving me, serving her… completely ours.”

Daniel’s broken sobs and trembling body told them everything they needed to know—his surrender was absolute. There was no resistance left, no part of himself he could hold back. Between Samantha’s confident thrusts and Mistress Violet’s guiding control, he knew, with complete certainty, that he was exactly where they wanted him to be: theirs.

——

Samantha gripped Daniel’s trembling hips tightly, her fingers digging possessively into the curve of his flesh as she pressed forward with deliberate, confident thrusts. Each movement of her hips drove the silicone shaft deeper into him, and with every inch she claimed, a new sense of power surged through her. She had never felt like this before—never experienced such absolute control over her husband.

It was intoxicating.

As her movements grew steadier, bolder, Samantha’s smirk widened into something triumphant. Her body moved with a rhythm that felt primal, an extension of her dominance. She watched how Daniel’s body responded, helplessly accepting her with each thrust, his submission manifesting in the way his stretched, slickened hole clung to her strap-on.

She had him now—utterly and completely.

Her heart pounded, not from exertion but from exhilaration. The sight of her husband bound tightly to the spanking horse, his body offered up to her like a gift, filled her with a heady mix of satisfaction and power. This was what it meant to lead. To dominate. To take what was hers without hesitation.

“Look at you,” she breathed, her voice dripping with mockery and delight. “Taking everything I give you like you were made for it.”

The sound of her hips meeting his backside—sharp and rhythmic—only deepened her thrill. Every thrust brought a new wave of ownership, a physical declaration of her authority. Daniel’s muffled sobs and trembling breaths fed her ego, confirming just how completely he had surrendered to her.

Samantha tilted her head back slightly, letting the moment settle over her like a mantle. She felt strong, invincible even. The doubts she’d once had—the hesitations, the awkwardness—had disappeared entirely. Mistress Violet’s earlier guidance echoed in her mind, steadying her movements and reinforcing her confidence.

“Guide him. Take control. His body will learn to accept you.”

And it had. She marveled at how Daniel’s body yielded so perfectly now, how he had no choice but to let her fill him—over and over—until there was nothing left of his resistance.

Her voice dropped to a low, teasing murmur as she leaned slightly forward, pressing deeper into him, her dominance undeniable. “This is where you belong, Daniel. Under me. Beneath me. Taking me like a good little husband.”

Her words made him shudder visibly, his body clenching briefly before surrendering again, opening to her fully. Samantha smiled wickedly, the thrill of her power only deepening.

“You feel that?” she whispered, her pace quickening just slightly as her confidence soared. “That’s me owning you. Filling you. Taking what’s mine.”

With each thrust, Samantha felt herself rise higher—no longer just Daniel’s wife, but his superior, his leader, his domina. She had power now, a power that left him helpless and small beneath her, and she reveled in it. Nothing had ever felt so satisfying, so complete.

Mistress Violet’s approving voice cut through the moment, calm but edged with satisfaction. “You’re doing beautifully, Samantha. Look at how perfectly he takes you. You’ve claimed him.”

Samantha grinned, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she thrust harder, pulling Daniel further into her dominance. “Yes,” she murmured to herself, her voice thick with satisfaction. “He’s mine now.”

In that moment, Samantha knew there was no going back—no undoing the shift that had occurred between them. She was in control, and Daniel belonged to her. Fully. Irrevocably.

——

Daniel knelt in the dimly lit bedroom, his bare chest and forehead resting against the soft comforter, his arms outstretched submissively in front of him. The cool air brushed over his naked skin, accentuating the vulnerable curve of his back and the arch of his hips. His knees pressed into the bedding, and his body trembled slightly, both from the anticipation and the lingering effects of his preparation.

He had followed Samantha’s instructions perfectly. Earlier, he had given himself an enema, the humiliating process now second nature to him after weeks of regular training. He had taken extra care to ensure he was thoroughly cleansed, knowing that anything less would disappoint her. Once done, he had applied a generous amount of lubricant to his bottom, the sensation still slick and lingering as he waited. The strap-on harness lay neatly on the bed beside him, perfectly adjusted and ready for her to use.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as he knelt there, his breathing slow and deliberate as he focused on his position. The submission, the stillness—it was all part of the ritual. Samantha had taught him that. Every moment he spent waiting for her was another lesson in patience, in obedience, in surrender.

The soft sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, and Daniel’s breath hitched. He tensed slightly, his body instinctively preparing itself as the bedroom door creaked open. Samantha entered, her presence immediately filling the room with an air of authority. She said nothing at first, letting the weight of her gaze wash over him as she took in the sight of her husband—completely bare, completely exposed, and completely hers.

Her heels clicked softly on the hardwood floor as she approached the bed, her movements deliberate. She picked up the strap-on harness, inspecting it with a small, satisfied smile before placing it back down. “You’ve prepared everything well,” she said calmly, her voice laced with approval. “Good boy.”

Daniel let out a shaky breath, the words sending a mix of relief and pride coursing through him. “Th-thank you, ma’am,” he murmured softly, his voice muffled by the bedding.

Samantha ran a finger lightly down the curve of his back, her touch both possessive and teasing. “Look at you,” she said, her tone dripping with mockery. “Kneeling there so perfectly, presenting yourself for me like a proper little submissive. Tell me, Daniel—are you ready to be claimed?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Daniel whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of nerves and anticipation. “I’m ready.”

Samantha’s smirk widened as she picked up the harness again, adjusting the straps with practiced ease. She took her time fastening it around her hips, making sure the thick, silicone shaft stood prominently in front of her. “You’ve come a long way,” she remarked, her tone almost thoughtful as she tightened the final buckle. “A few weeks ago, you would have been squirming and whining at the thought of this. But now? Look at you—on your knees, lubed, cleaned, and waiting like a good boy.”

Daniel’s cheeks flushed deeply, but he remained silent, knowing better than to respond without permission. Samantha stepped behind him, her hand brushing lightly over his exposed cheeks, making him shiver under her touch. “You’ve done well, Daniel,” she said softly, almost mockingly. “Now, let’s see if you’ve truly learned to take me properly.”

Her hands gripped his hips firmly, positioning him as she aligned the bulbous head of the strap-on against his slick, waiting entrance. Daniel’s breath hitched, his body tensing instinctively, but Samantha’s voice came smoothly, commanding and firm. “Relax. You’ve done this before. You know how to open for me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Daniel whispered, forcing himself to breathe deeply as the pressure against his entrance increased.

Samantha pressed forward slowly, the slick head stretching him as she pushed inside with deliberate precision. Daniel let out a soft whimper, his body trembling as he yielded to her, the sensation both overwhelming and familiar.

“That’s it,” Samantha murmured, her voice low and satisfied as she slid deeper into him. “You’re taking me beautifully, Daniel. Just like you were meant to.”

Daniel let out a shuddering breath, his fingers curling into the bedding as he surrendered fully to her. Samantha began to move with a steady rhythm, each thrust reinforcing her control and his submission. He had prepared himself perfectly, and now, as her dominance filled him completely, he knew he had given her exactly what she wanted.