Jon Deets

I had a full night planned for my slave wife. I left her a note telling her to be prepared for an epic D/s night. Darkness came and I ordered her to go over to our casita where I had left her wrist and ankle cuffs, a collar with a leash, a black very short skirt, and a thin chain halter top which left her breasts fully exposed. I prepared our BDSM playroom, put in my favorite slave training dvd, and texted her to come back to the house. I knew her heart must be pounding and her stomach churning as she crossed the yard with a breeze blowing up her skirt (no panties) and her virtually naked top exposed for anyone to see. ...

I finally convinced my wife to book a stay at La Domaine, a BDSM-friendly hotel with all of the necessary equipment and even a training academy. We are long-time kinksters but my wife was adamantly opposed to being naked in front of anyone but me. However, on one particular night of frenzied lust and passion she agreed to go, and not only that, she agreed to be “dressed” in nothing more than her collar and a basic black strapped harness leaving her breasts and pussy fully exposed. ...

continued from Part One: Game Gone Wrong Part 2: The Limo “I want to get my brains fucked out”, she said, “in a limo.” Now this has long been a fantasy of my wife, and for some reason I had not fulfilled it yet. I immediately called around and found a limo service made up mostly of off-duty cops, and requested a driver for the following Saturday night. The big night came and off we went for a light dinner and some cocktails. ...

“I have a very special gift for you for New Year’s” my wife told me. “I will be yourslave for the evening: no-limits, no safe-word, just your absolute and complete slave.” “Are you sure?” I asked.“You realize we will be going out?” She shivered a bit, averted eye contact with me, and said “yes, I am sure.” Now we had previously had numerous evenings of “slave-training” and she was always a most willing participant; however, her hard limits included both no other participants and that we remain in our own home at all times. Apparently she was ready to take the next step. ...

Last night started innocently enough. Honest. My brother came over for the first half of a football game. We had some dinner. My wife served us drinks. The conversation was good. At halftime my brother had to run to the airport to pick up some relatives to take to his house, so he left. So I told my wife/slave that I was horny and that she was officially in slave mode. She seemed a little pouty as we moved upstairs to our play space. I put on the big screen and told her to get naked. It was then, to my utter and complete surprise, that she said, “I don’t want to be a slave tonight”. ...

I’ll admit it. I was dozing a bit when the doorbell rang. It was fairly late, and we weren’t expecting anyone. “I’ll get it” I said, as I got up from my chair. I opened the front door and immediately got punched in the stomach. Hard enough that I hit my knees. Which is when I got hit over the head and saw stars. When I woke up I was in my bedroom and tied to a chair. Tightly. Both my arms and legs were tied in 4 different places to the chair and there was zero chance I was going to move much. Which is when I noticed the three men standing in front of me, holding my wife. Who was topless, wearing only panties, and with a very scared look on her face. ...

My wife is generally pretty prim and proper. She has a great high-paying job. She has numerous friends, loves to work out, and competes in tri-athlons. What very few people know is: she is also my bondage slave. Recently, it was time once again to attend a gala my company puts on every year. Now since we have been to about 25 of these, I decided that this time we should spruce the evening up a bit. ...

As told by his slave, slave c i knew it was going to be an interesting weekend when Master Jon told me to stand at attention and wrote something on my left breast, and then took a picture. He had me dress in lingerie, and then did something which seldom happens- he made me put on my collar. That just doesn’t happen in our city. He had me put a short dress on over the lingerie, put on my wrist and ankle restraints, and told me that i would be “on display”, and we drove for about 45 minutes to a ranch. ...

After a long and hard start to the year, my wife and I finally were off to Paris for a week of vacation. We landed early in the morning, found our hotel, showered and took off to see the sights. The Eiffel Tower, several museums, a couple of sidewalk cafes, and miles of walking were just the ticket for our first day and we fell in bed and went to sleep immediately. We awoke rested and ready, and off we went for the second day of adventure. ...

Hot sun. Bikinis. Wakeboards, laughter, music and beer. Its hard to beat a day on the lake! My wife and I were having a normal weekend day on the lake: wake up late, eat a leisurely breakfast, throw on some sunscreen, jump in the boat and go. We took a mid-afternoon siesta to get ready for the evening. Then a friend called and said, “Come over for some cocktails and dinner, we are having a spontaneous party”! ...

(Another True Story) Super Bowl Sunday! Always a good day to spend with friends: eating, drinking and, of course, betting. And this Super Bowl was slated to be extra special because we decided to spend it at our house with three couples in our neighborhood who happened to share our sexual interests in BDSM. Somehow, over an earlier evening of entirely too much wine, we had convinced our wives that they could plan a future evening of sexual adventures if they would each agree to be a slave for the Super Bowl. And dammed if they didn’t come through! ...

(a True Story) There is no way of getting around it, our sex life had gotten a little stale. “Time for a sex-slave evening” I told my wife! She blushed a bit and sighed; she tolerates these nights more than she embraces them. Which makes it even better for me. And, of course, some of our neighbors. On this particular Friday night, I had her dress in a short black skirt, high heels, and a lacy blouse with a built-in bra which held her perky breasts high and tight. Her black thong underwear were tight since they helped hold a special guest inside my wife’s glory hole - a remote-controlled silver bullet vibrator. Controlled, of course, by me. ...

story continues from How Sandra became Indentured Everyone at the office noticed that Sandra was much nicer to her grumpier old boss. “A love hate relationship” they all said. Sandra noticed herself daydreaming from time to time about taking another business trip, and she alternated between feeling disgust and lust for thinking about sex with strangers, especially for money. Finally the call came from her boss: “Sandra”, he said “we are going to New York. I want you completely shaved. Do you understand?” ...

(story continues from New Mexico Training Session) Part 2: Remedial Work The week my wife had spent in New Mexico in slave training had been well worth the money. Upon our return to our home after the training, my wife/slave diligently performed her tasks: her person was flawlessly maintained as was the house, her service and attitude towards service was superb, and she took great care of all of my possessions. And her sexual performance was that of a hungry tigress, no matter the place, time or position, she was simply a perfect slave. For two months. ...

(story continues from She Lost the Bet 7: Budapest) A Sequel to “Part 7” Part 8: Caribbean Good Times St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands. Warm trade winds, good rum, beautiful beaches and perfect vacations. My wife and I were recently there for Thanksgiving to celebrate my new job. We were tucked into our third rum drink at Mountaintop when suddenly she turned to me and asked, “Did the slave trade ever come through St. Thomas?” ...

“Of all the luck” she said, “stuck another night out of town due to American Airlines.” As luck would have it, the airline was having difficulty getting its planes to the right places due to weather, and now Sandra was stuck in her hotel for another night. Her boss immediately said, in a typically English manner, “Stiff upper lip, my dear, we will make the best of it. Go dress up a little, and we will go to dinner.” ...

She just wasn’t listening anymore. Oh, she tried to please me, but somehow she had lost focus. When I told her to grab me a Negro Modelo, she would come back with a Shiner. And frankly, she often seemed a little distracted when she was giving me a blowjob. Unacceptable. So, after a little internet research, I found a place outside of El Paso that I thought might help her sharpen her focus. We flew to El Paso and drove over towards Las Cruces on some back roads, and turned into a fairly nondescript dirt road that led to a Spanish-style villa on a flat hilltop. The adobe style home was not overwhelming, but it had several private courtyards and seemed cool and private. We walked into the living room and sat down, and were served fruit juice and some guacamole. The proprietor then walked in and greeted us and said to call him “C”. He was about 50 with a beard and he looked amazingly like the guy in the “most interesting man in the world” commercial. His assistant soon joined us and she was about 6'1" tall, very fit, and looked like Brooklyn Decker. ...

“Honey, you are wrong”, I said. To which she replied with the magic words-“I will bet you anything”! “Anything?”, I asked, with an arched eyebrow. “Even being my slave for an evening”? “Absolutely”, she replied, “I will be your slave even if involves fucking a stranger, because I know I am right”! The problem was… she was wrong. The evening began with me inviting some guys over to watch some football -10 guys to be exact. We grabbed some beer and some snacks, and I brought out the “squares board” just like a Super Bowl game where you write in your initials in one of the 100 possible squares and hope the score ends up making you the winner. ...

(story continues from She Lost the Bet) A Sequel to “She Lost the Bet” Part 2: Another Lost Bet I honestly thought that my wife would never bet me again after our last little episode. But she can be somewhat of a slow learner. This time the bet was over the movie-line “take me to bed, or lose me forever.” “An Officer and A Gentlemen”, she cried out. “I don’t think so”, I said. ...

(story continues from She Lost the Bet 2: Another Lost Bet) A Sequel to “Part 2: Another Lost Bet " Part 3: The Third Lost Bet After losing two bets and paying the consequences for each, I honestly thought my wife would never make a third bet. But she is impulsive, and I am starting to believe that perhaps she doesn’t mind the losing, or the consequences. This wager happened during our recent trip to Morocco, where we had gone for a little “cultural exchange.” She bet me that I could not find a local BDSM club in such a socially conservative and paternal society. After several nuanced conversations and inquiries in coffeehouses around the main souk, I was approached by a very nice-looking young lady, with her head covered, of course, who told me that I would gather up my wife and follow her that we could “find what we were looking for.”.. ...

(story continues from She Lost the Bet 3: The Third Lost Bet) A Sequel to “Part 3 " Part 4: The Fourth Lost Bet “Nope” she said, “no way am I ever betting you again.” I really can’t say I blamed her; after all, every time she bet me she lost and had to be my slave for the day. This, of course, often led to long, exhaustive evenings for my wife. It was right about then, though, that the song “Til I Can Gain Control Again” came on the radio. I immediately asked her “who wrote that song?” ...

(story continues from She Lost the Bet 4: The Fourth Lost Bet) A Sequel to “Part 4 " Part 5: No Bet This Time! My wife had finally gotten it through her thick head that betting with me was not a good idea. She had made several bets with me, and paid the price, several times. The result of each lost bet was that she had to serve as a love slave for an evening, and that brought many surprises (and many delighted men and women). So she simply refused to bet me anymore despite my constant prodding. ...

(story continues from She Lost the Bet 5: No Bet This Time!) A Sequel to “Part 5 " Part 6: Vegas! “Let’s go to Vegas!” my wife exclaimed. “You lose so many bets” I said, “why would I take you to Vegas”? “Because we will have a great time” she replied, “plus, I feel lucky”! “Okay, Okay” I said, “on one condition: ‘whoever loses the first bet we make with each other, has to be a slave for an evening.” ...

(story continues from She Lost the Bet 6: Vegas!) A Sequel to “Part 6” Part 7: Budapest BudaPest! Just the name seemed exotic. We flew in so that I could do some business there and we quickly made our way to the BudaPest Hilton in the old part of the city up on the hill. After just a few days we felt right at home. Happy Hour in the executive lounge of the hotel built on an old castle. A cruise on the Danube. Good cheap meals. What was not to like? ...

My wife and I occasionally like to play the “Abduction game”. It’s a game where she goes out on an errand and I sneak up and kidnap her and take her to a place for a little bondage playtime. This particular night she went to an office building near our house dressed up in a short dress skirt, a cotton pullover shirt, high heels and carrying a briefcase. She looked like a professional; perhaps an attorney or a banker. . ...