Author's Note: A young wife decides to live out her submissive fantasies under the control of another couple.


Part 1

I pulled the car to a stop in front of the bar. Killing the engine I turned my head to look at Grace; she smiled and nervously fingered the collar fastened around her neck.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked her. She nodded her head yes, I could see that she was excited and it made me feel sad.

We climbed from the car, and I led her by the hand into the bar. An old hit from the eighties was playing but there was nobody on the small dance floor. The twenty or so customers already there chattered and drank as we walked to the counter. I ordered myself a beer and Grace a glass of wine. Turing to face the room I saw a row of booths along one side opposite the bar, four of them were occupied, but only one warranted my attention: A man and a woman sat next to each other at the farthest end, I had never seen them before but I knew who they were.

Taking both drinks I crossed the room, Grace followed close behind, I placed the glasses on the table and nodded to the couple seated there "Ian? Clair?" I asked them.

The man stood and offered me his hand "you must be John? We're so glad to meet you at last." He said in a friendly tone, we shook hands and I slid into the seat across the table from them. Grace made to follow suit but Ian turned his attention to her "nobody told you to sit," he said in a matter of fact way, she jumped up as if scolded and stood with her head bowed.

"Did you shave today?" He asked.

She nodded and with a nervous tremor she replied, "Yes Sir."

"Show me" he said. Grace looked around biting her bottom lip; she was clearly worried that people were watching. "I gave you an order slut" Ian growled. She immediately grabbed the hem of her summer dress and raised her hands, exposing her shaven and tattooed pussy. She stood like that for a minute while Ian visually inspected her; he then indicated the seat.

"Sit," he sounded disappointed not to have found fault

She sat and demurely stared at the tabletop, after a few seconds I turned my attention from my subdued wife and studied the couple who had enslaved her; Ian was around forty years old, he had a rugged good looking face, topped with long black hair pulled back and tied into a ponytail. I estimated him to be around six feet tall, he was muscular and lean, and I imagined him to be an ex biker, and I knew, if it ever came to a fight between the two of us, I would probably come a poor second.

Clair was more of a surprise to me; she looked to be no older than her early twenties. Her straight blond hair hung almost to her waist. She had a pale, pretty face with a small nose and piercing blue eyes. She stood around five feet six with a perfectly proportioned body. She looked more like a cheerleader than somebody who spent her spare time dominating other women.

She was watching Grace with a superior smile on her face, and I was stirred from my thoughts when I heard my wife gasp, glancing down I could see Grace's knees spread apart, and Clair's booted foot pushing up under her dress, grinding the sole against her naked crotch. Grace made no move to stop her but I felt I should say something, I was about to protest but the `what are you going to do about it` expression on Ian`s face had me holding my tongue.

He turned toward Grace, and reaching across the table he said "give me your hand," She looked puzzled for a second, no doubt distracted by the foot between her thighs, but she complied and for a minute Ian studied her wedding ring. Then releasing her hand he sat back "remove it" he told her.

She hesitated for only a few seconds before she worked the ring from her finger, she grunted once, but it was unclear whether it was caused by the struggle with her ring, or the toe of Clair's boot forcing its way into her pussy. With some hesitation she dropped the ring into Ian's open hand and he placed it on the table in front of me, he then slid another ring, this one dull and rusty and made of iron, across the table to Grace.

"You will wear that ring now, you will never remove it for as long as I own you," he told her, her hands were shaking as she pushed the symbol of her slavery onto her finger.

We all sat in silence in the wake of my wife accepting Ian's ring, until Clair suddenly stood up, and taking Grace by the hand she pulled her to her feet.

"Let's go to the girl's room," she said. It was clear to all that it wasn't an invitation, but an order.

Ian and I watched them sashay across the room "So John, how are things with you?" he said once the women had left.

I took a second to realize I was being spoken to "W...what?" I replied. I couldn't believe he was asking me that: This man, this bastard, had spent the last three months gradually enslaving my wife, against my wishes, and he was casually enquiring about my health.

He seemed to understand what I was feeling as he continued "Shit man! I'm only asking. Look, I know it must have been a little awkward for you these past few weeks, hell, I'm not sure I could handle my woman doing something like this," he shrugged and held his hands out palms up " But John my man, I gotta tell you, I'm not the bad guy here. If anything its Gracie using us, she contacted me remember! Nobody's forcing her to do this."

I slumped back into my seat. I knew it was the truth, but that didn't make things any easier.

"How do you like the woods?" Ian asked.

I was a little thrown by the unexpected question and stumbled a bit on my reply. "Er... the woods? Er... just fine I suppose. Why?"

"Clare and I were planning a trip out to the forest this Sunday, you're invited to come if you like" he explained.

"Well, I don't know, I'm not sure we have the time this weekend" I said, I certainly didn't want to spend any more time with these people than I had to.

"Oh that's too bad. Still, Gracie will be there. But if you do change your mind you'll be more than welcome?"

It was then that I understood; I was being invited but Grace would be commanded. I did a quick U turn "Er, oh well, okay, why not? I should get outside more anyway," I said.

"That's great man. We'll have us a few beers, have some fun. Here, we`re at this address, come by around midday" Ian slid a slip of paper across the table to me. We sat in silence for awhile until he fetched two more beers, as he retook his seat he looked up and smiled. "Hey, the girls are back."

I looked up to see my wife approaching, her hair was mussed and her eyes were red, as if she had been crying. It was her dress though, that caught my eye: it was wet through, and with no bra beneath she looked like she was in a wet t-shirt competition. Clair led her by the hand but rather than sitting down she pulled her over to the small dance floor.

Grace followed the younger girl's lead, she looked very nervous; Clair placed her hands on Grace's waist, and pulled her in close as they began to sway together in time to the music. They moved their bodies erotically against one another: Clair openly allowed her hands to roam over Grace's body, and when she reached her arse, she pulled the thin wet dress up to expose Grace's nakedness to anyone who cared to look.

Her bottom and the backs of her thighs were bright red, it was obvious to all she had recently been spanked. This accounted for her distressed expression when she returned from the ladies room.

It wasn't long, I noticed, until the eyes of everybody in the bar were on them. I also watched closely, and despite the situation, I couldn't deny the sight was a massive turn on: seeing Grace with another woman had always been one of my fantasies.

After a few minutes the song finished, to be replaced by a more upbeat number. Clair stopped dancing and took a moment to whisper something to Grace, who then, looking rather self-conscious continued dancing alone as the young girl returned to the table.

She sat down next to me and sipped the wine I had bought for Grace. The three of us watched Grace as she writhed seductively, she danced rather like a stripper would; caressing herself and lewdly gyrating her pelvis, I guessed that was what Clair had told her to do. Without the younger girl dancing with her, Grace had nobody to use as a shield, therefore her breasts and her body in general were clearly defined by her wet dress, and less than a minute later two men joined her, both ensuring they danced close enough to have Grace make bodily contact with them as she moved.

There was clearly a look of concern on Grace's face, and I thought maybe Clair had also told her not to stop dancing. With Grace seemingly unwilling to leave the dance floor, the men were now confident enough to start pawing her. I thought this had gone far enough and started to rise to go to her, but I was hemmed in by Clair, when I looked to Ian for support he shook his head slightly in a warning to me not to interfere, cowardly, I slowly sat back down.

The two men were crowding in tighter now, but Grace obeyed Clair's order and kept dancing. A third man walked onto the floor, he looked somewhat drunk, but he joined in the dancing and began to thrust his crotch against my wife's arse. She looked increasingly worried and repeatedly looked over to where we sat; I could see the pleading in her eyes: she wanted to be rescued. But to my dismay, it was toward Ian that she looked. He sat back and watched her torment with obvious amusement. The drunk pushed up against Grace from behind, he worked his hips against her as if he were fucking her arse, his arms were around her as he mauled her breasts. She looked close to tears but kept dancing. Finally Ian rose and walked across to the dance floor, and taking Grace by the arm he at last pulled her away from the men.

"Hey Bud. What're you doing?"

Ian stopped in his tracks, and he slowly turned back to face the drunk who had spoken. He stared hard at him and raised a finger "one warning Pal, that's all you get," he said quietly, there was more menace in those seven words than I could ever have managed, he then made his way back to the table with a timid looking Grace following behind.

I wasn't surprised that there were no more protests.

"Sit down," he Pushed Grace into the booth somewhat roughly and as if to himself he added "fucking whore," and sat down next to her.

I watched in impotent silence as he made free with her body: he stroked the back of her head with his left hand, while his right cupped her breast, he squeezed, digging his fingers into the soft flesh. Then he grasped her nipple between thumb and finger; pinching and twisting, making Grace squeal in pain, as he dropped his hand to her lap he retained his grip on her nipple, dragging her tit down, stretching her teat until it slipped free. Grace emitted a low groan. He raised her dress to expose her crotch, I watched as first one, two, then three of his big calloused fingers were pushed into her pussy, when his thumb pressed on her clit she jerked and shuddered. I looked at her and she had a strange expression on her face: her eyes were closed tight and her mouth gaped open, I couldn't decide whether she was in pain or enormously aroused. I then thought that for Grace they were probably the same thing. When I looked back to Ian he was smiling at me, mocking me, he raised his hand with three fingers up, turning it this way and that, studying the glistening wetness from my wife's cunt, he wiped his hand on her face, and she groaned and flicked out her tongue trying to taste her own juices. He pulled his hand away, and when Grace looked at him he suddenly grabbed her by the hair and pushed her head down into his crotch. He held her there with one hand and pulled his zipper down exposing his penis with the other.

All the time he was grinning at me, challenging me to say something.

I loved Grace so much, but I hated her for putting us in this situation. I was angry with her, but I was also so aroused: why was I excited seeing my wife abused by another man?

I finally found the courage to object and started to rise, but Clair's hand suddenly grabbed my crotch, I was a bit shocked and looked at her, but the smirk on her face and the firm way she gripped my balls told me I wasn't to interfere, so I sat back down feeling like a complete wimp, and watched helplessly as my lovely wife was forced to suck another man's cock just three feet away from me.

I watched as Ian maneuvered Grace's head into position and then as she began to move up and down, I was engrossed watching her lips slide down Ian's cock, her mouth was so sexy and I wished it was my shaft between those red lips. Suddenly I jumped in surprise and my body stiffened as I felt someone undoing my pants. I looked down to see Clair's hands searching for my cock, and I was a little embarrassed when it became clear that I was hugely erect, I looked back at Ian to see if he had noticed what Clair was doing, he stared back at me with a knowing smile, I felt ashamed and once more locked my eyes on the bobbing head in Ian's lap. I gripped the edge of the table and gasped as my cock was finally freed. I so wanted to stop what Clair was doing to me but I seemed to have lost all willpower. Instead I grunted as she gripped my penis and I surrendered my pride. From the corner of my eye I saw the girl grin in triumph and contempt as her small hand stroked slowly up and down my shaft. I was as much a slave to Clair's hand as Grace was to Ian.

We must have made a bizarre spectacle to anybody who cared to look over at the booth: Ian and Clair both were grinning at me in amusement. I gripped desperately onto the table edge while I was masturbated and Grace was oblivious to everything except the cock pushing against the back of her throat.

Suddenly Clair increased the speed of her hand and I groaned aloud and leant forward, my head was almost resting on the table and my knuckles were turning white. I was going to cum; I could feel it building, Clair must have sensed this because she increased the speed of her hand, I felt humiliated by my approaching climax, but I felt unable to do a thing to prevent it, and I was at the stage when in truth I didn't want to. "Urrrgh! " I tensed, gritting my teeth; I could feel the tendons standing out on my neck. "Ohhh Goddd" I moaned and spurted jets of semen over the front of my pants and Clair's hand. I sat there shuddering with my head on the table trying to calm down and gather my wits. I now felt ashamed and slowly sat back upright, I was just in time to see Ian lean his head back and close his eyes. Desperate choking sounds were coming from Grace as her head was held hard on the cock filling her mouth as Ian climaxed emptying his seed into her throat.

For a few long seconds all movement at the table stopped, the only sounds were deep breathing and Grace gurgling as she attempted to free her airways.

"Fuck that was good!" Ian announced. He pulled Grace's mouth from his cock by her hair. She slumped into the corner of the bench seat gasping for breath, semen ran down her chin and she looked close to tears. "Well, I think we'd better be hitting the road Babe. We have things to do," he said as though they had just spent a normal evening with friends, he stood up, zipping his fly. Clair rose also, and leaning across the table she wiped my sperm from her hand on Grace's hair.

"You two stay if you want, have another drink, have fun, there are some guys in here would love to see more of your lady," Ian said "I`ve enjoyed meeting you both and I'm really looking forward to Sunday. You be good now, bye." He finished the last of his beer and the pair of them walked from the bar.

I stared into space; I was stunned, only becoming aware when I heard Grace sniffle. I reached across the table to her and wiped away the tear rolling down her cheek. I took hold of both her hands, "are you okay?" I asked her quietly.

Grace nodded slowly and turned her head toward the bar area, I followed her gaze to see quite a few pairs of eyes staring at her, "I think we'd better go," she said.

"I think you're right." I agreed.

Later, as so often happened after one of her `episodes` Grace became so excited that she dragged me onto the bed as soon as we arrived home. She was almost at fever pitch as she tore at my clothes and demanded sex: rough sex. I was reluctant at first but I soon became embroiled in Grace's lust. We fucked hard and fast with Grace demanding that I slap, pinch and generally mistreat her. After two shattering orgasms she was satisfied. Then, as was always the case, she became overcome with feelings of shame and guilt, and I held her close as she cried herself to sleep. I lay staring at the ceiling for some time unable to sleep while Grace snored quietly beside me. I wondered for the hundredth time how we had come to this, we were just a normal everyday couple, or so I used to think; now I didn't know what we were or what would happen to us, and I was worried and I was scared.

I had met Grace when I was twenty five years old. She was three years younger. I worked in the design department of a small engineering firm; Grace worked in admin for the same company. She was everything I wanted in a woman, her long, wavy chestnut hair crowned a sensual face: dark brown eyes, slim nose and pouting lips, some might say her mouth was too wide but I found it so sexy, and when she smiled her whole face seemed to light up. She was tall: five feet nine, and slim, but still curvy, I admit to being fixated by her thirty six C cup breasts and her legs that seemed to go on forever. We became friends and it turned out that she was as attracted to me as I was to her. I asked her out on a date and we fell in love, we were married a year later.

We were happy: we had a nice house, a good social life and our sex life was great. Nine years later and I loved Grace even more and thought I knew everything about her. But then something happened, and I realized I hardly knew her at all.

I had decided to do some maintenance work on our old and rather slow computer. After an hour or so I checked the internet history: What I found there tilted my world.

There were links to porn websites, not just a few sites but dozens of them, and not just any porn; they all appeared to involve BDSM. I knew I hadn't accessed them so that only left Grace. I was no stranger to internet porn, like ninety nine percent of all men I secretly had the occasional peek, but as I opened the links I saw things I never dreamed of: the bondage and abuse were far more extreme than anything I had ever seen before. I must admit I was shocked at what my normally demure wife had been looking at, but I also knew I shouldn`t judge, she was an adult, it was her choice, who was I to say what was right and what was wrong. If Grace wanted to look at kinky pictures it was up to her, I actually felt slightly aroused that she was so open minded. But it was when I checked the most recent links that I really grew concerned.

Grace was reading a magazine as I watched the T.V. It was a couple hours since I had been on the computer. And I was unsure of what to say, I was nervous but steeled myself and tried to attract her attention. "Grace?"

"Umm," she mumbled, she didn't look up from her magazine.

"I... I was looking on the computer today. I... um... I found some things, some things from the internet." I knew I wasn`t explaining myself very well so I decided to just came out with it " Oh shit, look, I found some porn sites, chat sites, that you had looked at," I finally blurted out. It had been the chat/contact sites that worried me. Grace didn't answer or look up but it was clear she was no longer reading.

"I'm not judging you, Christ you`re an adult! You can look at whatever you want, it's just that ...well, I was worried - is everything alright with us?"

She at last looked at me. And I could see tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry John. Oh God I'm so ashamed," she covered her face in her hands and sobbed.

I moved across to her and hugged her. "Hey, it's okay, don't cry. Like I said, I was just worried. I thought maybe you were trying to find someone else, that you didn't love me anymore," I said gently, trying to calm her down.

She turned to me and her face was wet with tears, her bottom lip trembled. "No ... no, it's not like that. I do love you. I was just...Oh I don't know. I was just talking to people."

"But why look at those kinds of sites? What's with all the bondage and kinky stuff?" I really needed to know what she was looking for. She turned away and I tried to gently pull her face back to me.

"No please don't. I'll tell you, but I can't speak about it with you looking at me - it`s....it's just too embarrassing, "she was finally getting some control of her crying. I released her and sat back. She was quiet for a long time so I waited, I didn't want to pressure her, and I would let her tell me in her own way.

"I've always had feelings about... Oh God this is so awkward" she said and then stopped; she took a breath and tried again "I've always had fantasies about....about being dominated. I never told you because I thought you would think I was sick or something," she said.

"No never, I would never think that," I stroked her back, trying to reassure her.

"Please, just let me talk," she insisted, so I shut up; I could see this was hard for her - sharing her private thoughts. She took a deep breath and continued, "It started when I was a teenager. I fantasized about being controlled, being made to do things, things that I didn't like. Of course I never did anything about it, it was all just fantasy. Then a few weeks ago I heard from somewhere- I can't remember where, about sites on the internet. I knew you could see pornography and things but it had never occurred to me that I .....Well I decided to look, and it was there, my fantasy. I realized I wasn't alone, other people shared my desires."

"Why didn't you tell me? I would have understood, maybe I could have helped you," I couldn't stop myself from interrupting.

"Please John, don't. I didn't need help, and I couldn't tell you," she now turned and looked me in the eyes, "I love you so much. It may have been okay if I'd told you straight away, but the longer it went on the harder it was. Anyway there was nothing to tell, it was all just thoughts, just fantasy. It wasn't until I saw the things on the internet that I actually did anything about it," she explained. I put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to me, she rested her head on my chest and in a quiet voice she continued. "An advert for a chat room popped up one day. I realized then that I could actually speak to other people who shared my fantasies, they were strangers and I could say whatever I wanted and no one would even know it was me. So that's what I did, I spoke to people. I'm sorry if I've deceived you, I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me, it was all just harmless fun, I never intended to go any further I swear. I love you too much."

I kissed the top of her head. There was something she wasn't telling me, I could hear it in her voice. "What happened Gracie? What changed? "

Again she looked me in the eye, and the tears welled up again. "I'm so sorry. There...there was a couple, Ian and Clair. We chatted, we chatted a few times."

"And?" I asked, I didn't like where this was going.

"Well we chatted some more, they told me they were both Doms, I said I was submissive, and..... Well they asked me if I would agree to become their cyber slave."

"What did you say to them? Have... have you met them yet, this couple? What`s a cyber-slave anyway?" I felt myself starting to panic, I dreaded her answer. But I had to know.

"No, no, a cyber-slave is just that: it's all done over the internet," she said. She had stopped crying now and spoke calmly as if she were explaining something simple to a child.

"So you haven't actually met them? You haven't been with anyone else?" I pressed.

"Oh God no! We talked is all," she answered as if I were accusing her of murder.

I was so relieved I thought I would cry. "Thank heaven. I thought you were seeing someone else," I pulled her to me, hugging her.

Grace gently pulled away and she averted her eyes again. "There is one thing though .... I haven't met them, but, I did agree to their proposal. I think it's what I've always wanted, what I've always needed,"

"What! You agreed to be their slave? What the fuck were you thinking of?" I was really upset that she would be involved in something like this. I didn't even want her talking to these people let alone becoming their slave, even if it was just pretend. But she had already gone behind my back and I was scared now that if I forbade her she might do so again. And I knew I couldn't handle that "So what exactly have you agreed to?" I wanted to know.

She shrugged as if it was nothing and turned away from me again. "That I become their slave. They give me commands online and I obey them," she said.

"So you don't actually have to do anything? You could just say you did whatever they told you?" I asked.

"I could, but there wouldn't be much point to being a slave then would there? No John, I agreed. Where would I be if I just kept pretending every time I was told to do something I didn't like? "She seemed to be more at home talking about things now. I could understand her point of view but I was still very concerned.

"I'm not really comfortable with all this. Why didn't you ask me?" I said.

"Would you have given me you're consent?" she asked.

"No that's not what I mean. Why didn't you ask me to have you as my slave?" I tried again.

"Oh God, if it were only that simple. I would love to say I wanted to be your slave. In fact I really would like to be your slave, but that's not what I need. If I were your slave I would obey you because I love you. But I need to feel I'm being forced. The less I like my masters the bigger the turn on when I have to obey them," she was talking now as if what she had done was the most normal thing in the world.

"So what do you plan to do now?" I asked her.

She took hold of my hands "Do you want me to give them up?" she enquired.

I thought for a few seconds. If I gave her my consent, I feared I might lose her. But if I refused her, I still risked losing her. I was in a no win situation "I don't want you doing this," I told her simply. She looked sadly down at her lap and nodded slowly.

"Okay, I'll e-mail them tomorrow, "she said.

She stood up and without a word she left the room. I felt as if something valuable was lost to us. I had forced her to do something and I thought of how ironic it was that this problem started because she was seeking people to force her to do things.

The following morning I was walking on eggshells, it was Grace who had caused all the uncertainty but I was the one feeling guilty. I knew she had done wrong, but I loved her so much I felt I should forgive her anything. Our relationship was a bit strained in the days that followed. Grace acted normally, but I tiptoed around her. I didn't want to risk driving her back to Ian and Clair. But I needn't have concerned myself, because she had never broken contact with them.

After what she had already done I couldn`t help but remain suspicious and I constantly checked the computer, and a week later I found an email from Master Ian ordering Grace to shave her body from the neck down.

I was upset but I didn't say anything to her; instead I decided to wait a couple days to see if she obeyed him. We were undressing for bed and I helped to remove her underwear, I looked to see that her pussy was shaved clean.

"You look sexy like that," I told her. My voice was flat and I felt somehow defeated.

I watched as she put her hands on her hips and gyrated sexily. "Do I?" She purred.

"Yes, you do, whose idea was it?" I asked.

"W...What do you mean," suddenly she looked and sounded nervous.

I sat dejectedly on the bed and looked up at my wife "Was it Ian?" I said and Grace seemed to visibly crumble.

"Oh God I'm sorry. I tried, I swear I did. I e-mailed them to say I wouldn't contact them anymore, but they just told me I had to obey them. I'm so sorry, I can't resist them, and I'm weak. I don't know what to do, please help me. I can't stop myself," she was in tears again but I was no longer sure whether they were real and I didn't trust myself to discuss it calmly anymore.

I slept in the spare room that night. We talked again the following day and Grace promised again that she would stop but I didn't think she really meant it. And after some time I made a decision that I hoped I wouldn't live to regret.

We sat on the sofa; I held Grace's hands in my own and looked into her eyes. "I'm not happy about all this, but I can understand it really means a lot to you. I love you and I'm not going to risk losing you by giving you an ultimatum." I paused and drew a breath," so, I will agree to let you have your way, you can be the slave of these people, but I want to be a part of it" she looked up at me and I continued "I want to be there with you, I want to understand what it's all about. I'll try not to interfere. I just want you to be safe, let me handle this with you, please?"

That evening we entered the small room that we called an office. I booted up the computer and turned to see Grace undressing, "I have to be naked whenever I contact them" she explained casually.

I shrugged, accepting that it would be one of the first commands any master gave a slave. She sat beside me and I thought about how sexy she looked: sitting there naked, and how aroused I had suddenly become. Grace opened her e-mail account and typed a message explaining my request. We waited in silence for a reply. Thirty minutes later it arrived.

Re. slavery.

Clair Sampson.

To Slut Slave.

Slave, I wonder whether you are worth the effort we are making to train you.

Your husband was never a part of our requirements.

You're only concern is to please us. Our only reason to even know you is to use you for our pleasure.

But, there are things we may require of you that cannot be accomplished by one person alone.

So, bearing that in mind we have decided to allow your request, but under our conditions.

You will still obey every order given to you and accept any punishment we deem necessary.

Your husband is not to interfere with anything we decide for you.

If he wants to take an active part in your subjugation he must agree to do what we tell him to do, and only what we tell him. Otherwise he may observe only.

If this not agreeable to you both, then sign off now and never contact us again.

You have until eight o'clock this evening to answer.

It was only five minutes to the deadline. Grace looked at me, she didn't speak, she didn`t need to, I knew what she wanted. "Okay Grace. I'll do it. I agree." She smiled a huge smile and her eager fingers flew over the keyboard typing our acceptance.

I hoped desperately that I had done the right thing.