As mentioned in my story My Journey Into An FLR, here is a continuation which delves deeper into an episode that stands out in Jason and Anna’s shared history—a camping trip they embarked on to mark their anniversary. While some elements draw from truth, this narrative leans heavily into the fictional, offering a more vivid retelling of their adventure. During their stay in the wilderness, the couple encountered two women whose presence would, unbeknownst to them, enrich and solidify their relationship. The new friendships blossomed, influenced by a chemistry that neither couple could deny. Intimacy and adventure interwove, blurring the line between friendship and something more far more daring. Their time together explored the boundaries of trust, freedom, and love, setting the stage for nineteen immersive chapters that chronicle profound discoveries, and emotional revelations. If you haven’t read the Journey, I suggest you do before starting this new story. New to this story? Start with Chapter 1! Thank you for reading! – RG John
Chapter 6
The wine was flowing as freely as the conversation now. Gone were the tentative pleasantries that had hovered around us earlier.
Anna—unapologetic, poised, and always a step ahead said, “Jason’s been locked in his cage more than a year now. He only gets out if I say so. Which isn’t often; he has to earn it.” The words landed in the space between us like a thrown gauntlet.
Molly blinked, her cheeks rosy with wine and surprise. “So, like… he’s locked up, always?” Her gaze flicked, almost involuntarily, downward. “He literally can’t get hard in that thing?”
“Correct,” Anna replied, her confidence underlined by a teasing lilt. “But don’t feel too bad for me. Jason is amazing with his mouth. It’s my favorite way to finish the day.”
Sandra’s eyes darted to Molly’s, both reflecting a cocktail of amusement and incredulity. There was something intoxicating in the daring of this conversation, a sense that we had slipped into a realm where we could say anything.
Sandra smiled, slow and sly. “That’s all well and good,” she pressed on, “but don’t you ever miss—” her hands sketched an awkward gesture in the air, “—the real thing?” Anna didn’t hesitate.
“Of course I do. Sometimes. I’d be lying if I said otherwise. But I have a very lifelike strap-on, and Jason knows how to use it exactly how I like.”
Molly arched a brow. “That’s not the same, though. Flesh and blood is… well, you know, different. Warmer.”
“I know,” Anna answered, her voice steady, almost cool. A shiver ran through me—something between a pang and a cold wind. In all the times Anna had teased, or playfully reminded me of my status, she’d never said it like this, so casually, so publicly: the simple truth that I could not be what she really wanted. I’d always imagined she must miss what I couldn’t provide, but imagining it and hearing it were two different beasts entirely. The pain was sharp, unexpected, and it forced a silence over me that felt like a second, heavier skin.
No one spoke for a moment. The only sound was the waterfall.
It was Molly who broke the spell, swirling her wine and squinting at Anna as if seeking permission. “Why not just, I mean… why not take the cage off? At least sometimes? So you two can… have regular sex?”
Anna’s lips curled in a smirk. She shifted in her seat on the blanket so she could fix me with a sidelong glance before she replied, each syllable carefully measured for maximum effect. “I could, I suppose. But have you seen what I would be working with? Honestly, it’s so small, I can barely feel it. And when we did use it, he could never last more than thirty seconds. So, really, what’s the point?” She finished with a laugh that was teasing but also a bitter pill for me.
Molly’s mouth hung open. Sandra’s eyes went wide in astonishment. For an instant, embarrassment prickled in the pit of my stomach, raw as a fresh wound. Anna had never shied from describing our arrangement, even to strangers, but this was different. This was a deliberate exposure, a stripping away not only of my clothes but of whatever shred of dignity I had clung to.
Sandra tried to find hope for me. “But… does he get bigger when he’s erect? Some men are growers, not showers.”
Anna shook her head, pity coating her voice. “I wish. But no. And, if anything, it’s shrunk since he’s been in chastity. At this point, I doubt I would even notice if I let him fuck me.”
My breath caught in my throat. There is was. It couldn’t get more direct than that. Again, hearing the words out loud were far more condemning than simply knowing that I couldn’t pleasure her with my small equipment. It hurt deeply, but it was, unfortunately the truth.
Molly exhaled loudly, half amusement, half shock. “That’s… that’s too bad. Poor guy. And so handsome, too. You could have had any girl, Jason, if things—if it—were different.” As soon as the words left her lips, she turned red, pressing a hand to her mouth in belated concern for my feelings, though the damage was done.
The group’s laughter followed. Even as Anna’s hand came to rest reassuringly on my knee, my cheeks scorched with humiliation. I squeezed my wine glass tighter, finding no comfort in its dwindling contents. Silence descended again, more loaded, more uncomfortable than before. Beneath it all, still, ran the waterfall’s murmured secrets. But I could sense another question forming, a curiosity too tantalizing to resist.
Molly, emboldened again, leaned forward, gesturing discreetly toward me. “So… what about the welts?”
Anna answered without missing a beat. “Discipline. Once a week, sometimes more if it’s needed. Usually it’s my paddle, or the cane, but here I had to improvise. Birch switches from the woods. Very old-school, very effective.” Her gaze returned to me, sharp and expectant. “Jason—show them again.”
She didn’t have to raise her voice, her intent was unyielding. My insides twisted. I tried to reason with myself: this wasn’t worse than being unclothed before a Anna’s doctor and nurse, because doctors dissect you clinically, stripped of all pretense. Yet these women were not professionals—they were strangers and witnesses both, and nothing about this was clinical. Still, years of conditioning and devotion removed my options. I stood, moving woodenly, the wine suddenly a traitor in my blood.
I turned away from them, feeling a thousand eyes where only three pairs looked, my skin aflame with shame as I presented myself. The cool evening air brushed the ridges and bruises that mapped my submission—my choices, or lack of them. There was the rustle of shifting bodies behind me, and a hush as they took in the evidence Anna had so proudly described.
Sandra was the first to speak, her tone soft, almost awed. “Wow. She really does a number on you, huh?”
Anna responded with a delighted laugh. “Isn’t it beautiful? And it keeps him in line. Jason knows his place because he can feel it—every time he sits down.”
I stared at the water, heat swirling in my face, my sense of self small and trembling, yet, I couldn’t deny there was a strange relief in it too. There was no more hiding. No more secrets. The truth, in all its cruel clarity, was out in the open. And here, under the gaze of others, I felt even more vulnerable.
“My, my,” Molly said, her voice laced with intrigue and a hint of sympathy. “That looks very painful.”
Anna replied, “I’m sure it was. Unfortunately, he got a bit of a spanking earlier on the way down because he started whining about being naked.”
“So you birched him first, then spanked him?” Molly asked.
“Yes. He has to learn that questioning me always leads to swift consequences. The sooner it comes after the offense, the more effective it is,” Anna said.
Sandra leaned forward slightly for a better view, a glimmer of admiration in her eyes. “Impressive, really. That kind of discipline takes real commitment.”
“Oh, it does,” Anna agreed, her words tinged now with a faint slur—another glass of wine was already half-empty beside her. “But he’s been through much worse, haven’t you, Jason?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said softly.
Sandra smiled, looking between Anna and me. “Very polite. I like that.”
“He better be,” Anna said firmly. “If he ever disrespects a woman—anywhere, in a restaurant, a store, wherever—he knows there’ll be hell to pay. He can act as he pleases with other men, but when it comes to women, respect and obedience are non-negotiable.”
Molly grinned. “I like that.”
Anna went on, “And he knows better, in most circumstances, not to speak unless he’s spoken to in the presence of women.”
“So if he slips up, that earns him more discipline?” Molly asked.
“Of course,” Anna replied.
“So you discipline him every week, then?” Sandra asked, curiosity lighting up her voice.
“As I said, at least once a week,” Anna answered without hesitation.
Sandra arched an eyebrow. “Is he really that bad? He needs it that often?”
Anna laughed quietly. “Not at all. Jason’s actually quite good most of the time. But you see, discipline isn’t always about correcting bad behavior. It’s broader than that. In the early days, sure, we tracked his infractions and punished accordingly. That was part of his training. But over time, as he grew into his role, it became less about correction and more… about something else.”
“Something else?” Molly prompted, raising a brow.
Anna nodded. “About me.”
Both women spoke at once, echoing her: “You?”
“Yes,” Anna answered simply. “I need it. I like it.”
Both women were visibly surprised. Sandra leaned in. “I’m not sure I understand.”
Anna met her gaze, her tone easy and almost confessional. “Tell me—did either of you ever work outside the house?”
“I was an insurance adjuster,” Sandra said.
“I ran a health club for fifteen years,” Molly volunteered.
Anna smiled knowingly. “Then you’ll get this. Remember those days when work was so awful you felt like screaming? Or when traffic made you want to drive right over someone?”
Molly laughed loudly. “Every day. I’d come home ready to murder someone, I swear.”
Sandra nodded. “My weapon was a bottle of wine. And then my useless husband would come home, and I’d be angry all over again.”
“Exactly,” Anna said, her smile growing. “Now imagine, instead of bottling it up—or drowning it in wine—you could just bend your husband over a stool and whip his ass.”
Sandra had just taken a sip of wine and almost choked, dissolving into laughter. “God, I would have loved that.”
All three women broke into giggles, clinking glasses in a toast.
“My blood pressure just dropped imagining it,” Molly said, shaking her head.
“Well,” Anna said, “I’m an attorney at Lowell, Jackson and Bowling. And let me tell you, the stress is unreal. In the beginning of our FLR, disciplining Jason for his infractions, I noticed something: all that stress melted away. At first I didn’t even realize it. But over time, it became clear that discipline helped me just as much as it helped him. Maybe more.”
“So it’s like therapy?” Sandra asked, genuinely intrigued.
Anna grinned. “Therapy with a paddle and cane. But honestly, it’s more than that. I found out I actually enjoy disciplining him. It excites me—the control, the obedience, the power exchange. At first, I was uncomfortable. I thought it made me strange. But when I joined the FLR group, I learned I wasn’t alone. Most of the women there discipline their husbands. I’m not ashamed anymore. And after a session, I’m usually so—well, worked up…”
She shot me a sly look. “Let’s just say, Jason is in charge of taking care of me.”
“With his mouth, I imagine?” Molly chimed in, her lips curled into a knowing grin. “Since the cage keeps his little guy out of commission.”
“Exactly,” Anna replied, winking. “And the rest is history, as they say. These days, I make no secret of how much I enjoy taking the cane or paddle to his ass. I don’t hide it, and I definitely don’t apologize for it.”
Molly leaned closer, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “How do you even find a man like that… one who’ll let you take control?”
“Well, it starts with him being open to it, or better, having a submissive streak. From there, he can be guided, trained. But it only works if he’s willing—it has to come from him. Men are naturally aggressive, it’s how they’re wired—so softening that takes intention. But here’s the important part,” she emphasized, “we’re not looking for wimps. That’s a completely different thing. We want men who are still protectors. Jason? He’s fiercely protective of me and women in general. Once, he took down two guys in a bar, who were twice his size, for being assholes.”
Molly raised her brows. “Seriously?”
Anna nodded, smiling.
“Absolutely. Meanwhile, there are women in FLRs who need strong men for… other reasons. We call those men ‘bulls.’ Quite a few FLR wives cuckold their husbands—it’s often about size or stamina. I don’t have a lover now, but… who knows? Maybe someday.”
Sandra tilted her head, intrigued. “How do you know which men are right for FLRs? Or who might make a good bull?”
“That’s the tricky part,” Anna admitted. “Submissive men are everywhere—executives, cops, military, construction workers. You’d never guess just by looking or talking. Most of them keep that side tightly under wraps.
“Many have high-stress jobs—always making tough decisions, burdened by responsibilities, and the pressure never lets up. It’s one reason men die younger—they burn out, inside and out. Whether they realize it or not, they’re desperate for relief, for a space to let go. Letting a woman take charge changes that dynamic.
“They want their wives to take over—home, decisions, direction. I think that’s how FLRs started, really: the need to surrender in a world where they’re always expected to be in charge.”
She paused, shrugged, and added, “When it comes to finding a guy to fuck me, it wouldn’t be hard. Like with most women, you only need two things—a big cock, and the confidence to use it. Women who bring bulls into their relationships usually aren’t looking for husbands; they just want reliable service.”
“Sounds complicated,” Molly remarked.
“It can be,” Anna agreed. “But relationships are complicated. The difference in FLR circles is, we actually talk about it. I’m co-chair of a women’s FLR group—we run seminars, parties, social events. If you’re at all interested, I can share the details. In fact, we recently launched a dating service to connect dominant women with submissive men. It’s already led to quite a few successful matches.”
“That sounds amazing! What do you think, Sandra?” Molly asked, her eyes gleaming with interest.
Sandra nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’d be open to it. Can’t hurt to check it out.”
“Perfect,” Anna said, flashing a smile. “We’ll talk more when we get to the tower. Jason and I actually came here to take a shower. If you two don’t want to wait, we’ll meet you at the tower later. Or…” she added with a teasing grin, “if you’re feeling bold, you’re more than welcome to join us.”
My eyes widened.
Molly and Sandra exchanged a look, then shrugged and smiled at one another. “We’re fine with that. We both need showers, and it saves us having to make another trip,” Molly said. “We’ve been to nude beaches plenty of times. Nudity’s not a problem for us.”
Anna grinned. “Good.” Unfazed, she stood up and began undressing, not a shred of hesitation in her movements. I caught Molly and Sandra openly admiring her, following each motion. Once she was fully naked, their eyes fell on a small key hanging from a chain around her neck. They hadn’t noticed it before—all eyes had been, understandably, on me.
“Is that the… key to his cage?” Sandra asked, unable to contain her curiosity.
“Yes, it is,” Anna replied, serene as ever. “I wear it most of the time—usually on the outside. But with all these branches around, I didn’t want it catching on something. I never wear it out at work, though. It’s always hidden there. Too many awkward questions.”
She glanced down at the key, then added, “This isn’t the one I usually wear. Jason had one made for me with tiny diamonds inlaid along the edge. It’s stunning, but I only wear it when I know it’s safe from getting caught on something.”
“So, you wear it exposed most of the time, other than work?’ Sandra asked.
“Yes, I wear it proudly,” Anna said.
“Do you get a lot of questions about it… you know when you are not at work?” Molly asked.
“All the time,” Anna replied. “And I’m proud to answer them. We women in FLRs need to be open about what we’re doing. Not just because we love it, which we do, but because it’s important to spread the word. Our goal isn’t just to grow the club, though we’d welcome more members. It’s about expanding the lifestyle itself. We really believe FLRs are the foundation for happy, lasting relationships. And I have to say, looking at the couples in our group… it works.”
“This is all so fascinating,” Molly said. “I love that we stumbled onto you guys. We’re both always open to new things, and this… this is definitely new.”
“I’m glad we met too,” Anna said, her fingers curling around mine as we headed down the path to the water’s edge.
I glanced back just in time to see Molly and Sandra beginning to undress, their eyes on us. Before I could linger, Anna gave my sore ass a sharp smack. “Eyes forward,” she said.
I suppressed a painful moan.
Grabbing the soap, we stepped carefully across the slick rocks and into the water. The cold helped ease the swelling in my cage from the brief view of the nearly naked women… though that didn’t last long.
We waded into the pool and paused to embrace.
We slipped under the gushing water and I lathered up Anna’s body, my cage tightened again.
I couldn’t resist stealing another glance at the shore, where Molly and Sandra were finishing undressing and had tied their hair up to keep it from getting wet. Both were incredibly well-built—Molly had the larger breasts, but Sandra’s figure was just as impressive. Surprisingly Molly had nipple rings in both nipples. Molly and Sandra were both shaved clean.
Molly reached out and helped Sandra into the water. It didn’t surprise me when they began to embrace.
It was obvious that they were more than just friends. Their movements were practiced, intimate and it was clear they were familiar with each other’s bodies.
I helped Anna rinse her hair under the falls, then pulled her under the cascading water for a kiss. When I looked over again, I sucked in my breath, Molly and Sandra were kissing too, right in the middle of the pool.
Under the rush of water, Anna murmured, “I had a feeling they were more than just casual friends.”
I smirked. “Yeah… I did too.”
Anna murmured, “It’s kind of beautiful watching women kiss, don’t you think?”
I was a little embarrassed to admit that it was. “Yeah it is.” I couldn’t keep the image of Sally and Anna kissing from my head. I wondered if they had ever done it.
When we finished, I followed the three women toward shore… my eyes on their gorgeous asses. I couldn’t help but study the curves and differences of their bodies. Molly’s ass was full and firm, Sandra’s smaller but sculpted like Anna’s. I was biased, but I thought Anna had the best figure.
I used the towel to dry Anna and then myself. I noticed Anna and Molly drying each other and giggling… it was obvious that they liked each other a lot.
I surprises when everyone sat back down naked. I joined them, having a hard time keeping my eyes off the gorgeous women. I got several meaningful looks from Anna and knew I would pay for this, but I couldn’t help it… there were three gorgeous naked women just feet away from me. My poor penis was straining in the cage, another thing Anna noticed.
Anna said, “Listen, you can stay with us as long as you want. We will be here at least a few more days. If you stay, we’ll have plenty of time to talk more about things while you’re here. I can give you details on our FLR meetings and as I said, we have seminars, parties, and all sorts of social gatherings. If you’re interested, you could attend one and see what you think. process yet.”
“But… we’re not married anymore. Isn’t the group for married women?” Sandra asked.
“No, not at all,” Anna replied. “As I said, we set up a dating service for those women who want to join unaccompanied. Women can be single or partnered. We even have a few lesbians,” she added with a warm smile.
Molly glanced at Sandra, then grinned. “We’re not lesbians. We just love both cocks and pussy. We don’t want to cut out half the population.”
Anna laughed. “No offense meant… I just meant it’s not exclusively for women with male partners. The group’s for women who lead, regardless of who they’re with… or not with.”
“None taken,” Sandra said. “After our divorces, we naturally started venting to each other. And, well… over a couple bottles of wine, we discovered that girl-girl sex is amazing. Have you ever tried it?”
Anna hesitated for the first time that evening. “Well, nothing long term.”
I was shocked to hear that. Anna had never shown any particular interest in other women. I felt my penis swell at the thought.
But then she shocked me more when she added, “There was a close friend in college… we, um… occasionally got together.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly—Anna, who rarely blushed, looked suddenly shy.
That stunned me. I’d never heard her speak of any college fling like that. My mind instantly went to one person—Sally. It almost had to be her.
“Anyway,” Anna said, changing the subject, ”So I will get you the information about the FLR club and you can attend our next meeting… we meet bi-weekly.
“Sounds like a plan,” Molly said, and Sandra agreed.
