Friday afternoon, I was sitting in a work meeting when I received a text message from my wife:

“Be home early today, dear. I have a big surprise for you”

After the meeting ended, I wrapped up and went to the station to catch the train home.

I had no idea what the big surprise could be, but when I got home, all lights were off in our house. There was just one candle lighting up the hallway. Next to the candle was a note in my wife’s handwriting and a basket with four leather cuffs and a blindfold.

The note read:

“Welcome home, dear.

Get undressed.

Place your clothes on the chair.

Strap cuffs on wrists and ankles.

Kneel naked on the floor.

Put the blindfold on and remain silent until told otherwise.”

What was going on?

I’d been hinting at me being a submissive and wanting her to take charge and dominate me sexually, ever since we started dating five or six years ago. Did she really want to play now?

I felt excited and quickly followed the instructions from her note.

A minute later, I was kneeling, naked, cuffed, and blindfolded on the floor.

After a while in silence and darkness, I heard a door open. Hands grabbed my arms and gently, but firmly led them behind my back. With a click, my wrist cuffs were being locked together with a padlock.

I felt strangely aroused, so I didn’t make any effort to withstand, not even when I felt a hood being pulled over my head.

“On your feet, boy!” it was my wife’s voice. A simple order, but a lot harder to obey than I had imagined. I tried to get up, but my knees were a little wobbly after kneeling on the floor for some time. Being blindfolded and with my hands behind my back didn’t make it any easier.

I felt a sudden and harsh pain across my buttocks. She must have used a whip on me.

“Never let me wait again, boy!” she barked.

I got up quickly. With a laugh, she grabbed my hard cock, and led me to our basement. She locked my wrists to a chain hanging from the ceiling and moved away from me. Slowly, the chain moved, pulling my hands upwards until I was standing in a strappado. Bent forward, shoulders twisted and hurting, but still standing with my feet flat on the floor.

“OK, boy” she said. “To make sure that you understand that I am the one in charge, I will now give you your first proper whipping. You may make as much sound as you’d like, but know that I will not show you any mercy before I am done, and by the way, I am also recording this on camera.”

I wanted to object but decided against it. I really felt like I wanted to figure out where she would take this.

“When I release you after the whipping, I expect you to kneel before me, kiss my feet, and thank me for choosing you as my slave” “I am your beloved Queen, and you will address me properly”

“Yes, my Queen”, I replied

I didn’t hear the sound of the whip until I felt the pain on my ass. I was completely helpless and unprepared. I reacted with an awkward jump and a yelp. She hit my thighs and my buttocks, and I was trying hard to handle the pain. I struggled to keep quiet but in vain. After a few strokes, I heard myself crying my heart out. I was also moving my feet around, trying to twist and turn to avoid the next stroke.

My Queen paused the whipping and kicked my feet aside. She then locked my ankles to the sides, before resuming.

I couldn’t move around as much as before and my balance became even more challenged. The pain in my shoulders was killing me, and my ass felt on fire. I started to feel dizzy, and I felt tears and sweat rolling down my face. For a brief moment, I was wondering why on Earth I ever wanted this to happen to me. At the same time, I could feel my extreme arousal, and my hard cock bouncing between my legs.

After a while, my Queen walked up close to me and started petting my head. Well done, boy. I am very proud of you. She removed the hood and the blindfold and unlocked my ankles and my wrists from the chains. The sharp light hurt my eyes, but I remembered her instructions and quickly went down on my knees and started kissing her lovely feet, thanking her for choosing me and training me as her slave.

She held a riding crop to my lips.

“That was nice, wasn’t it, boy?

This is the crop that just gave you so much pleasure. Kiss it!”.

I kissed the riding crop passionately until she walked away to a sink by the cabinets. She poured water into a bowl and placed it on the floor. “Drink, boy!”, she said and took a large glass of water with her to the throne. I thanked her and started drinking from the bowl. My hands were still locked behind my back, so it took some time before I found a technique where I didn’t get water in my nose always.

My Queen walked towards me. I knelt down before her, and when she was close enough, I kissed her feet and thanked her. I could feel that she was content with me.

She unlocked my cuffs and told me to move about and get the blood flowing again. All my joints were aching. I started massaging my sore shoulders and moving my knees and hips. My buttocks were sore and hot to the touch, and I could feel swollen welts and marks.

“Listen carefully, boy!

Just a few basic rules. Don’t worry, more will come soon enough.

As my slave, your name will be bimse.

When I call you by your slave name, we are at play, and you will kneel naked before me, kissing my feet and worshipping me.

When I call you by your real name (Andy), the game is paused or over, and you will respond as my lovely alpha husband.

If you want to propose playtime, you will kneel before me, hands behind your back, forehead touching the floor. If I answer by using your slave name, we are at play, if I use your real name, I’m rejecting your proposal.

That position will also be your way of asking for permission to speak when we are at play.”

She pointed toward a yellow pillow on the floor and ordered me to sit on it, relax, and take a look around the room.

When we moved into our house, about two years ago, our deal was that the front room of the basement was mine. I had set up a workshop as well as a few training implements, but I haven’t really been down here for the last six months or so.

This larger back room was hers, and I was surprised to see what she’d done with it.

It was like a dungeon. There were eye bolts in strategic places in the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. In a corner, there was a small barred prison cell with a board bed. Just like the ones, you see in movies. There was a big four-poster bed. The bedposts were made from strong metal grid like the cell bars, and bolted to both the floor and the ceiling. Being chained to them would make it impossible to escape.

Along one wall there was a enormous wooden X. By the opposite wall was the throne where my Queen was sitting, and next to the throne, a low cage on wheels.

Covering one of the shorter end walls were cabinets with mirrors on sliding doors.

In the middle of the room, there was a whipping post and some sort of a wooden horse or trestle.

I noticed a chain hanging from an electric hoist in the ceiling. I guessed that was the chain my hands were locked to during my whipping.

I was genuinely amazed at the work that must have gone into this project. Right under my nose.

My Queen was once again sitting on her throne. “What do you think, Andy?”

I told her how impressed I was with the room, and how I’d had no idea that she was setting it up. She explained to me how Karen, Susie, and herself had spent a lot of time planning and setting up the dungeon. At first, it was all inspired by me. My Queen had told Karen and Susie about my fantasies, and they loved the idea of having a place for training their boys. Together the three of them had read a lot of books, blogs, and articles on FemDom and how to train boys. They had checked through the internet to figure out what sort of decor and playthings they wanted. My Queen had found the old suitcase I used for storing my toys and with what they found inside it, they mainly needed the furniture and a few more items to fit the basement. We talked for a while, and it was wonderful to be able to talk so freely with her about such topics.

When the conversation died, I knelt before her, hands behind my back, my forehead touching the floor. My Queen started laughing. “Good boy, bimse”, she said.

The game was on!