Thursday, June 5, 2025

My Journey Into A Loving Female Led Relationship: Chapter 47

You have viewed 1 out of 3 free articles this week.

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 many chapters. If you are just starting, you should begin your journey back at chapter 1.


Chapter 47: Anna Prepares My Ass With A Paddle and Cane, Michael Arrives and We Start the “Talk”

For the next week, my mind was consumed with thoughts of my conversation with Michael and everything that would follow. I practiced my approach over and over, trying to find the right words, but nothing felt natural. In the end, I knew I would just have to wing it.

Strangely, as the days passed and I allowed myself to fully accept Anna’s desires, the weight of what we were about to do began to feel less daunting. No one but the three of us would ever know that I had sucked a cock… well, maybe Sally—but Michael and I certainly weren’t going to tell anyone. And beyond that, something even more important began to crystallize in my mind: I had fully embraced our FLR.

It wasn’t just a dynamic anymore. It was who I was.

Total submission wasn’t something I was struggling with because it had become a part of me. A truth that I now had to admit. I would submit. Not out of obligation, or reluctance, or fear. But because it was who I had become. Because I loved Anna. Because giving myself to her fully, without boundaries, without holding back, was the purest form of love I could offer.

That realization was liberating.

Instead of resisting, I chose to surrender. I accepted it for what it was, another act of complete submission to her dominance. Another way to serve her. Another way to deepen what we had built.

And submission was what I loved.

This was just another of her creative challenges, another way to push my boundaries, and deep down, I craved that. I also knew that if I showed any further hesitation, I would pay for it… or, more accurately, my ass would. The thought alone sent a shiver through me, and as if on cue, my caged cock throbbed at the idea.

I remembered how reluctant I had been the first time Anna pegged me… how foreign, how intimidating it had seemed. But now? I loved it. This was just another form of penetration, except this time, no preparation was needed.

Now, all that remained was getting through my discipline… and that awkward conversation with Michael.

It had been a long, grueling week, and by the time Friday night arrived, I was almost relieved. I had fully accepted what was going to happen with Michael, though I was still uncertain about the conversation we would have. As for the discipline… well, I was as prepared as I could be. I had spent time meditating, as I often did before a punishment, slipping into my submissive subspace… a mindset that always helped me endure what was to come.

Anna had ordered me to sit on the punishment chair while she prepared for the discipline. This wasn’t something she usually required before a whipping, and though it wasn’t as painful as sitting on it after, it still did its job… tenderizing my ass, ensuring that when the real punishment began, I would feel it that much more.

I sat there for what felt like an eternity, each minute stretching out as I waited. When Anna finally entered the room, my breath caught. She was radiant, even more so than usual. I could tell she had been looking forward to this night all week, frequently reminding me of both my punishment and what I was expected to do with Michael. With each reminder, my resistance had eroded, replaced by a deeper acceptance. Her excitement was infectious, and I found myself slipping further into my submissive mindset, surrendering completely to what was coming.

Still, I was more than ready to get off the chair when she arrived, carrying the big paddle and her favorite cane. My stomach tightened at the sight.

But it wasn’t just the instruments of punishment that made me shudder. Anna herself was a vision of authority. She wore black leather short shorts that barely covered her perfect ass, paired with a matching black leather top I hadn’t seen before. She looked like a professional dominatrix, powerful and in complete control. The sight excited me… and terrified me.

This was going to be an ordeal.

We had several hours before Michael arrived, as Anna had come home early from work, clearly eager for the evening’s events. Without a word, she pointed to the punishment stool, already set at the perfect height for my discipline. I exhaled in relief as I finally stood, rubbing my sore backside before positioning myself over the stool.

I was a little surprised when she used the hidden restraints to secure me. That wasn’t always part of my punishments, but this wasn’t just any punishment. This was a reminder. A lesson. And I knew I deserved it for questioning her authority. She knew after this, there would be no way I would resist.

Anna’s voice was calm but firm. “Jason, you know what you did wrong this time, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. I shouldn’t have questioned you about Michael. I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it.

“Well, you’ll be even more sorry once we’re done,” she said with a smirk.

I nodded, bracing myself.

She started with the paddle, as she always did. I didn’t bother counting the strokes—it didn’t matter. She would give me what she decided I needed, nothing more, nothing less. At some point, I slipped into my special place, the headspace where I felt everything but no longer resisted. Tears welled and spilled onto the floor, but they didn’t slow her. When the final stroke of the paddle landed, I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

But I knew it wasn’t over.

Anna traced her fingers over my swollen, burning flesh and murmured, “That should do for now. I’ll be back in a while to finish.”

I didn’t respond as she left the room. I assumed she had gone to her office, as she often did.

An hour passed before she returned. She had left the cane in front of me, deliberately placed where I couldn’t ignore it. I had spent the entire time staring at it, dreading it, accepting it.

Now, she picked it up, giving it a few sharp swishes through the air. The sound itself was terrifying.

“Are you ready, Jason?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered without hesitation.

She nodded approvingly. “I’m not going to put you back on the punishment chair when we’re done, but you will stand in the corner for half an hour. I hope you understand why this is happening.”

Obviously she needed more confirmation, or it just excited her to hear my submission… probably both.

“Of course. I disrespected you. I questioned your authority. I know you always do what is best for me,” I said, the weight of my words settling over me.

“And what did tell you that you were going to do?” she asked, swishing the cane through the air again for emphasis.

“You told me that I was going to suck Michael’s cock,” I said.

“And?” she added.

“And swallow his cum,” I said and shivered.

She smiled, pleased with my answer. “Good. Now, let’s make something clear. You won’t just suck Michael. You will learn how to properly pleasure him with your mouth, and you will swallow everything… every drop, won’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, no hesitation in my voice.

“Okay,” she said simply. And then the cane was raised.

The first stroke landed, slicing through the lingering burn of the paddle, and I gritted my teeth, sinking into the pain, accepting it. I needed this. I needed to be cleansed of my transgression, to be reminded of my place.

And, most of all, I needed to know that when it was over, and I had done what I was told, I would be forgiven. That was the most important thing in the world to me.

The strikes seemed to go on for a long, long time, but I had no idea of time or strokes. I moaned and cried, but Anna gave me no reprieve. I was in another world where time and space had no meaning. I could hear Anna’s heavy breathing, and it was almost a soothing balm to me. She was as consumed by this as I was.

Then I knew it was over when she gave me that last strike… her “lover’s bite.” That would last even after the redness and welts were gone. To Anna’s credit, she always alternated the position of the last strike… front to back, side to side, and in between. She did it to prevent scaring. She loved to say that she didn’t want to damage her “canvas” as she fondly referred to my ass.

When she was done, she took off the restraints and sat on the cushion on her “Queen’s” chair. I knew my place and went to my knees and between her legs. I pulled off her leather shorts and saw that, as always, she was soaked. I took care of her, both front and back before she stopped me.

Then took me over her lap and applied the soothing balm, that quickly took most of the sting away… at least for a while. Afterward, I curled up beside her on the sofa, my body still trembling, soft sobs still catching in my throat. She held me close, stroking my hair, whispering how proud she was of me, how much she loved me. Even through the lingering pain… pain I knew I had earned and I felt a deeper love for her in that moment. She corrected me because she cared. She guided me because she owned me. And I would do anything for this woman.

After a while, she led me to her bathroom, where she took a long look at my red, welted, and raw ass. Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction.

“I’ve really perfected the use of both the paddle and the cane,” she mused. “And I so love doing it. Your ass is a perfect canvas and I so love to paint it.”

She smiled, running her fingers lightly over my skin. I flinched at her touch, and she grinned. “I think I did a pretty good job. You’ll be feeling that for days.”

I turned to the mirror and suppressed a gasp. I didn’t often get to look at my ass right after the punishment. She was absolutely right, I would be feeling this for days.

“I accept that,” I said, my voice full of sincerity. “It will remind me of you.”

Her smile widened. “Oh, and that nice little “lover’s bite” that I love so much? It turned out perfect. That one will last even longer.”

I looked closer and saw it… an obvious deeper stroke positioned perfectly in the end of one of the welts. It was like the head of a shooting star, with the tail being a fiery long welt that spread across both cheeks, with an even redder point that culminated at the tip, but no broken skin. It was unmistakable. It was hers. And I would wear it with pride.

She had me bend over, retrieving her special cream for a second time. It was obvious that she had worked me over pretty good as she didn’t often use the cream twice for one discipline session.

“I’m going to have to use more than usual,” she said, massaging it in with slow, deliberate strokes. “The area is much larger this time, and some of these welts are really swollen. I hope it doesn’t hurt too much.” She giggled softly, teasing me.

I winced at her touch but said nothing. The pain was just another part of my surrender.

When she finished, she led me back to her bed, lying down and spreading her legs. She was still very aroused and it was undeniable.

I crawled between her legs, again kissing my way up her thighs. I could see how swollen her lips were, glistening with anticipation. I knew this wasn’t just from the intensity of my punishment… it was from what was still to come.

When my mouth reached her dripping pussy, I didn’t hesitate. I dove in, working my tongue against her, tasting her. She gasped and arched against me, her fingers tangling in my hair as I pleasured her with the devotion she demanded. It didn’t take long for her first orgasm to crash over her, then another. But after the second, she pulled me away, breathless.

“That’s enough for now, you’re going to exhaust me before Michael even gets here,” she murmured. “I want to save something for the main event.”

I knew what that was, and I shivered. It spite of everything, my little penis was swollen in the cage and it was dripping profusely.

But we weren’t done. She flipped onto her stomach, and as I had done countless times before, I positioned myself between her perfect ass cheeks again, pressing my tongue to her most intimate place. She moaned in approval, sinking deeper into her pleasure. This was an act that I had come to love as well… not only because it pleasured Anna, but because it was like a gift from me to her. I never had to do this… and I don’t think she would have ever suggested it… but once I had done it and felt and saw her reaction, I knew it would be my signature act of devotion. My gift to her.

This night was set up to be a pinnacle of all we had learned and experienced on this journey… it would be a moment of sublime dominance, the very embodiment of her authority and control over me. She had disciplined me mercilessly, taken her pleasure from my mouth, twice, and now, she was about to have me perform the ultimate act of submission.

I was a nervous wreck after my discipline, anxiously waiting for Michael to arrive. I couldn’t sit… not because I wasn’t allowed to, but because Anna had blistered my ass so thoroughly that I didn’t want to. At least, not until Michael arrived.

Anna had allowed me to put on an exercise suit, though without underwear, and had locked me in my smallest, tightest cage. She had joked that she didn’t want me getting hard while sucking Michael. I had laughed weakly, but in truth, I wasn’t truly sure it wouldn’t happen.

When the doorbell rang, I jumped in shock. My hands were practically shaking as I opened the door for Michael. The moment I saw his face, I knew that he was just as nervous as I was.

I had set a couple of bottles of beer on the coffee table for us, though I wasn’t sure I could even drink anything.

We shook hands, hugged, like we always did, and I invited him into the living room. Anna had retreated to the bedroom, giving us space to talk. Michael settled onto the sofa, the same spot where he and Anna usually started their nights. I joined him, wincing as I sat for the first time since my spanking.

He gave me a strange look. I decided honesty was the best approach.

“Anna gave me my Saturday spanking early and she really laid it on because I had questioned her desire to have me… you know… uh do what we are going to do,” I admitted.

“Oh,” he said, and we fell into an awkward silence.

Finally, Michael cleared his throat and said, “How about those Yankees?”

I burst out laughing, and he joined me. It was the first thing I had said to him the day he came to our house to have sex with Anna in her bed. Just like that, the tension cracked.

Michael glanced at the beer on the table. “Maybe we should have something a little stronger.”

I nodded. “Right.”

I went to the cabinet and grabbed a bottle of Scotch and two glasses. I wasn’t much of a drinker, and I didn’t even like whiskey, but tonight, I needed fortification. I poured him a quarter of a glass and did the same for myself. We both knocked it back in one go. I poured another round, and then another.

“We’d better not get drunk,” I said, already feeling the warmth of the alcohol spreading through me.

“Yeah, your ass probably couldn’t take anymore,” Michael said with a smirk. “And I don’t like it when Anna’s angry either.”

That sobered me a little. We fell silent again, sipping our drinks now. I stopped halfway through my third, already feeling the buzz. Michael finished his. I knew that I couldn’t delay it anymore. It was time to have the discussion we had come here for.

This was a night that neither she nor I… nor Michael, would ever forget.


To Be Continued

Gary
rgjohn
I started writing erotic stories to bring excitement and pleasure to a world that could use more spice! Years ago, two of my steamy novels were published by a Canadian press, even making it to airport gift shops—how cool is that? While I loved seeing my books in print, I realized the real fun was in creating stories that spark connection and creativity online. Who knows? Maybe my stories are inspiring couples to explore FLR dynamics, with a cheeky wife making her husband read them as a playful twist (while caged, naturally—oops, did I say that?).

Similar Blogs

1 COMMENT

Subscribe
Notify of

Latest Articles

1
0
What do you think? Please leave a comment.x
()
x
New Post Notifications Yes Please No