My name is John, though I go by rgjohn, and I’ve written a few erotic books and some content for Literotica. When Emma read my work, she suggested I write about loving, female-led relationships—a genre she’s passionate about. It’s been a while since I’ve written, but a fan recently reignited my interest by asking me to turn his detailed journal into a story. Initially skeptical, I found myself captivated by his account of a Female-Led Relationship (FLR), a concept I hadn’t explored before. With a mix of curiosity and research, I’ve decided to craft a multi-part story spanning over 20 chapters. If you are just starting, you should begin your journey back at chapter 1.
Over the next month, Anna and I settled into a comfortable yet evolving routine. Her career was progressing well, though the looming decision about her partnership kept a steady undercurrent of tension in our home. Office politics weighed heavily on her, and despite her best efforts, some days the stress was off the charts.
Anna believed that achieving a full partnership, joining the elite ranks of only three others in her firm would finally ease some of the pressure. Until then, she carried that weight with her, and more often than not, I became her outlet.
Our discipline sessions grew in both frequency and intensity. The strikes from her cane or paddle came harder, her focus sharper, and her emotional release more apparent. I didn’t mind. It wasn’t that I enjoyed the pain itself... I didn’t... but knowing that I was helping her unwind, providing her with some form of catharsis, made it worthwhile.
And afterward, when she’d run her fingers gently over the marks she’d left, whispering words of gratitude and affection, those moments made every stripe and bruise meaningful.
But it wasn’t all discipline. Anna’s focus on my sexual maintenance became a cornerstone of our relationship. She kept me in a constant state of arousal... an almost maddening edge where release was dangled just out of reach. Daily maintenance sessions became our norm again, but full climaxes were still forbidden. I barely remembered them now. I did, however, remember that the fleeting satisfaction of a climax left me feeling drained, hollow, and disconnected. Instead, I found an amazing satisfaction in the aching, endless craving that Anna expertly maintained.…
