The beginnings of my surrender

To all outside appearances, mine is a traditional marriage.

I live and work near Santa Clara, California. I live in the suburbs. My wife and I raise my two teenaged children from my previous marriage. We have a dog and two cats. My wife and I seem to share conservative values and have an easygoing, comfortable friendship. To the casual observer, I am the head of my household.

For the first nine or so years of marriage with my lovely wife Laura, the appearance was the reality.

We had played around a bit at the beginning of our marriage with D/s, always with me as the Top. We even went through a period of attending BSDM gatherings and attending local play parties. I played with many people in the local scene, again, always as the Dominant. I was good with a whip, and would inflict pain on any willing masochist with relish. In retrospect, there is a part of me that wanted to feel the pain and the control that I subjected others to --- perhaps I wanted to feel it vicariously --- in some scenes, I would apply the same torture to myself, e.g. a clothespin to my nipple while applying one to my masochistic scene partner.

In the last seven or so years, that sort of public partying had lost its spark. We were working, parenting, trying to maintain romance, and ultimately, I believe we were drifting apart. I had my own hobbies, and my wife had her hobbies. We lived together and felt more like roommates as the years wore on.

Around last Christmas, during vacation, while my kids were with their mother, my wife and I were hanging out and goofing off, I was naked (we are relaxed about clothes) and she was dressed, and I started referring to her as "Ma'am" and we played for an entire evening with her as the Lady of the house and me as her servant boy. I massaged her feet, brought her snacks, and obeyed to the letter with enthusiasm anything and everything she asked of me.

During this first evening, my wife was tickled by my enthusiasm and my perpetual hardon. The simple act of bringing her a drink and kneeling by her side produced an embarassing effect on my body. My blood ran hot the entire time I was her servant.

At the end of the evening, she took me by the hand to our bed, and made me kneel by the side of the bed. She had me look at her eyes.

"I'd like a massage, boy," she told me and my head spun, and the hardon I had sported throughout the night practically pulsed. "and if you're really good, maybe you'll get to be my sex toy too."

I gave her a massage, concentrating entirely on her pleasure. This was a different type of massage than any other I had given her --- it was all about her pleasure, not my expected sexual reward. When I was done, she was relaxed and turned on, and she took my cock in her hand and pulled me into herself, all the while saying things like "You are such a good little slaveboy. Who knew?" A warm blush spread from my neck to my cheeks, when I heard her praise me in this way.

We played the servant game a few more times. She even gave me some pet names and would play with different rules for me. I loved it, and I could also tell she liked it too.

To Be Continued