Origins

This story describes a BDSM lifestyle between a married Christian couple. It may not be your cup of tea. Respectful commentary is welcome.


By now, some of you have heard of my unique marriage to Mistress S. and our current lifestyle (and if not, you can read about it here). We thought some might want to explore more of this lifestyle in their own marriage and could find it interesting to hear how ours originated. So here were its beginnings.

It started during courtship when my beautiful bride-to-be kept sensing my alpha-yet-submissive traits, which complimented her outgoing and very strong personality. She placed strict limits on what kind of “petting” was allowed before marriage.  My cock would not be touched by her and was to stay restrained inside my underwear and jeans where it belonged. That was the law, and no amount of my begging was going to change that. That doesn’t mean that my cock never got a release because occasionally, after a lengthy session of teasing, it did so all by itself inside my pants, causing an embarrassing stain.

My mistress bride-to-be felt proud of her body back then, and she still does now, years later. She kept it “off-limits” during our courtship days, but as the day approached that we both said “I do,” she instructed me how to skillfully touch her clit by slipping my fingers down inside her jeans and caressing it in the right way to bring her to many wonderful orgasms. I did not realize it at the time, but even then, she was teaching me that sexual activity had to be on her terms, not mine. I am so glad she did.

Fast forward several years. After we got married, we had an understanding that someday our relationship would develop into a full-fledged mistress/slave relationship. However, it was difficult to put into practice, especially after children came along. Anything bordering on dominant sexual overtones and activity in our marriage had to stay inside our bedroom. And even then, since the walls were thin, it had to be very discreet.

But, that didn’t stop my beautiful wife from wanting more, and eventually, it blossomed, little bit by little bit.  For instance, she let it be known semi-discreetly to her best friend. By now, the kids were in school, and on one particular day off from work, I found myself at home with my mistress-wife and Kat, her best friend. Kat is an amazing woman who grew up on the ocean and in a home where sex was not a taboo subject. The best description I have for Kat—besides a phenomenal friend—is “earthy.” She’s direct and uninhibited, especially when it comes to conversations about sex.

Here is how that went. On this particular day, Mistress called to me from another room and said something like, “Corey, be a dear and refill our coffee cups.” There were no pleasantries in that terse communication, the absence of which would have been startling to anyone else except Kat.

Kat raised an eyebrow and gave Mistress S a questioning look as if to say, “Are you trying to tell me something?” Up to this point, Kat had no idea we were evolving into a full-fledged mistress/slave relationship. I felt compelled to answer something like, “Yes, gorgeous, gladly.” When I’d done her bidding, there was a “Thank you” from Kat but nothing from my mistress. That seemed to solidify the point; Mistress S. didn’t treat her husband with the demeanor and deference generally afforded by a wife. Kat didn’t miss the implications. She was picking up on all the cues and taking it all in.

Mistress S. never shared with me that she and Kat had any further conversations, either that day or later, about our unique sexual relationship. But I’d guess that, from that moment on, there was no need to be explicit. It had become evident to our very good friend.

My assumptions proved correct not long after. We decided to take our two families on a joint beach vacation to a southern city on the East Coast. Here is what happened once we got there.

“Honey, you forgot to pack my swimsuit,” I complained when I couldn’t find my boxer-style swimwear in our luggage.

“I didn’t forget. I left it at home,” Mistress S. calmly responded.

“Umm, but this is a beach vacation, and people usually wear swimsuits on the beach.”

“You will, just not that one.”

“Why not, it’s not worn out,” I said.

“I hate it. You have such a nice trim physique, and muscular body, I hate to hide it behind boxers,” she responded.

“Okay, so are we going shopping for a new one?” I asked.

“Yes, right now with Kat. I want her help picking one out.”

“With Kat? Why?” I asked with total surprise.

“’Cuz we’re friends, and I like her taste. I want her to help me pick out something for you that will be acceptable on the beach. After all, she grew up on the beach, and she knows more about this than I do.”

I thought to myself that maybe some of that made sense, but there had to be more to it.

“Did I hear my name taken in vain?” Kat asked as she came to the door of our tent.

“Just in time, friend. We are all unpacked and ready to head to the store.  I assume Tom’s got the kids down by the beach and knows we will be back soon?” Mistress S. asked.

“Covered.  Who’s driving?” Kat asked.

“I am,” Mistress answered.

It wasn’t far to the swimwear boutique that catered to tourists. There was a sizeable crowd in the store picking up beach items, and there were racks and racks of men’s and women’s swimwear. Once we got inside, Kat brushed past the boxer style men’s swimwear and headed directly to the display of men’s bikinis. Mistress and I tagged along behind her.

When I saw where Kat headed and the kind of swimwear she and Mistress S. were about to pick out for me, I knew I was in trouble. These suits were skimpier in size than Speedos. It didn’t take long for me to asses that they intended for me to wear a man’s bikini on the beach.

In just seconds, Kat had picked out two or three suits that she thought looked promising.

Mistress S. picked out a solid white bikini. Holding it up to Kat, she asked, “What about this one?”

“That would be perfect if you want everyone to see him naked after he comes out of the water,” Kat instructed.

“What do you mean?” Mistress asked.

“First of all, these suits have no liner, so all there is between his good-looking body parts and the rest of the world is this thin fabric. And if it happens to be white, then as soon as it gets wet, it becomes see-through. Buuuuut then, I’m not telling you anything you didn’t already know. Am I right?” Kat asked.

All Mistress had to do was smile her semi-wicked little smile.

“Thought so,” Kat responded.

“Maybe we’ll buy this white one for him to wear at home on the boat and by the pool,” Mistress S. suggested.

“Great idea. But for this beach, you will probably want him wearing this blue bikini or this print,” Kat said, holding up two suits she picked off the rack.

“Will Tom be wearing a bikini like this?” Mistress S. asked.

“I wish,” Kat said longingly. “I can’t get him to show off his assets like I want him to, and like Corey here seems willing to do. Say, can you tell me why it’s alright for women to wear bikinis and thongs on the beach and expose as much skin as they do, but men have to wear boxer swimsuits?  I like seeing men’s tight asses in these Speedo type suits,” Kat remarked to Mistress.

While Mistress and Kat carried on this conversation, I tried to act as if I was oblivious to the “earthy” discussion they were having. But they knew that I heard every word since I was only on the other side of the swimwear rack.  My fingers were examining the same kind of bikinis they were looking at, and Kat was right; there were no liners in these suits. My private parts wouldn’t even have two layers of Lycra material to hide behind.  That meant that my penis was going to be outlined very clearly and would leave hardly anything to the imagination.

I tried analyzing why I wasn’t objecting to this indignity. My conclusion seemed to satisfy my conflicted mind.  I mentally agreed with Kat’s logic. The logic flowed like this, “What’s wrong with men wearing skimpy bikinis on the beach if it is okay for women to wear them? And if a man has a nice, muscular, trim bod, why can’t he display his abs and legs, maybe a little of his butt and the outline of his cock?” I thought to myself.

Then I heard my mistress say, “I agree. I feel like there is nothing immoral about admiring God’s beautiful human creations. I’ve told Corey that. I don’t get upset when he admires another woman’s body because admiration is not the same thing as lust.  Lusting is when he jumps from admiration to wanting to have sex with that woman who belongs to someone else or for me to want to have sex with another woman’s husband.  Those are not my thoughts when I admire a good looking and well-built man.  Now, do you think a lot of other men will be wearing bikinis as tiny as this one on the beach?” Mistress asked.

“Probably not very many, but does it matter if there are only a few—or only one?” Kat asked.

“Are you asking if I care if my handsome husband here objects to being the only man on the beach wearing a bikini smaller than a Speedo?” Mistress replied.

“That’s exactly what I meant,” Kat clarified.

“No.” Mistress answered quickly and firmly in a way that exuded confidence and authority.

That two-letter word in that context and spoken in that manner sent shivers down my spine. Mistress had just inferred to her best friend that she intended to make her slave husband wear a small and revealing bikini on a public beach, whether he agreed to do so or not. My mind was spinning out of control, and I felt sexual heat beginning to rise in more places than I wanted, especially my face. My cock was also responding in auto mode. I could feel it pushing, unrestricted since it had no underwear to hold it back, against my jeans and stretching downward along the sides of my pant leg. The locked leather cock collar my mistress required me to wear at all times was also not helping at all—or maybe it was, depending on who wanted my cock to grow in size.

At that moment, I tried to untangle my thoughts and get some mental bearings. First, I realized I was in the presence of the two closest females in my life: my mistress wife and her best friend, who was also a very close friend to me. There was a lot of comfort in that, strange as that sounds. Maybe I should have been mortified at these sexual overtones and hints shared with a close friend. If Mistress had spoken those words in front of a stranger, I know I would be embarrassed to a point. But knowing I would never see that stranger again would make the embarrassment only half as bad (theoretically) as having the same thoughts shared in front of our closest female friend. Yet for some reason, I felt less embarrassed with her saying them to Kat than I would have with a total stranger.

I guess knowing I would be sitting in church on Sunday mornings in the same pew as Kat and her family made this moment surreal. Here stood a woman I knew exceptionally well—and loved in a brotherly sense—talking casually to my wife about making me wear the smallest bikini acceptable on this public beach. And she had heard from my mistress’s lips that it did not matter if I protested.  It was going to happen, whether I liked it or not.

I knew then that our friendship had taken a turn, reached a deeper level from that moment. Kat had information about me that no one else knew, and she seemed to be perfectly fine with it. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying this moment that I’d have thought would feel awkward for her. Instead, Kat obviously appreciated having this private, salacious revelation about her best friend and her best friend’s husband. I sensed by her relaxed demeanor that she was comfortable with this knowledge. That was the key. At that moment, I realized Kat wasn’t “freaking out” about our non-vanilla marriage.  Strangely, yet somewhat logically, this put me more at ease in front of Kat and removed most of my fears of being ridiculed. Up until then, I had steeled myself, hoping Kat would not think less of me. But after watching her response to Mistress in the store and the positive way Kat was reacting to the revealing conversation the two were having, I had hope. Maybe she would think well of me because I was dedicating so much of myself, both emotionally and physically, to please my gorgeous wife, albeit in a way that most men would not be willing to. I know I had no guarantee that would be true.  Though perhaps wishful thinking on my part, at that moment, I believed there was a good reason to feel unashamed. But I still had to focus on those thoughts and push past my doubts. Otherwise, I might have run out of the store in total rebellion, never wanting to see Kat ever again.

“Will other men be wearing these bikinis on the beach?” Kat answered the question Mistress had asked earlier. “Yes, obviously some men will, otherwise the store wouldn’t be keeping a whole rack full of them to sell. But they will be rare.”

A clerk came over to the three of us and asked if she could help us with our selections.

“Yes,” Kat answered. “We want him to wear one of these on the beach today, but we’re not sure if they will fit.”

When I heard Kat ask the clerk for help, I was aghast that she might be asking for a changing room where I would be required to model the suits for them here in the store. How would I deal with my erection then? Fortunately for me, it was not to be. The clerk looked at me and said that I was between a medium and a large and that the suits they were holding would fit just fine.  But she added, “If he’s willing to wear them, there are some ¾ rear coverage suits and also some Rio-style suits that provide only 50% rear coverage on the rack in the back of the store. You might want to take a look at those.”

The clerk pointed to the suits, and Kat headed there immediately.  Pulling a black Rio-style suit off the wall, Kat asked Mistress if she wanted to make me wear it. From what I could see, there was hardly any more coverage in the back to cover my butt than there was in front to cover my cock.  The side straps were also only an inch wide at the most.

“Yes, but maybe I might give him a day or two to work up to it.  It’s a little too revealing for his first day at the beach,” Mistress said with her sexy smile, a smile that seemed to say a lot more than just mild mischievousness.

“We’ll take these three,” Kat said, giving the clerk the blue and white bikinis with full rear coverage and the black Rio-style with only half coverage. Mistress S. reached into her wallet to pay for them before we sort of walked out of the store together.  By “sort of,” I meant that Kat and Mistress walked out ahead of me, and I followed after them.

When we reached our car, Mistress pressed the key fob to unlock it, and Mistress and Kat got in the front seat. I had no choice but to get in the back. That simple but aggressive seating selection added to what had already taken place, and Kat knew for sure after our little shopping trip that Mistress was happily “calling the shots.”

Somehow I knew walking out of the store that day that Kat would be seeing a lot more of me in those three bikinis in the days ahead, especially the white and black ones—and indeed she did.

Later, during a vacation Kat took to visit us, Mistress suggested we go for a boat ride and enjoy the hot summer sun.  In the boat, Kat mentioned recognizing the bikini I was wearing as one of the ones she had selected off the rack a few years ago. It seemed so very reasonable to us all that I would be wearing it in front of our very “earthy” and dear friend, who wore her own very revealing Brazilian-style bikini.

I have a hard time describing the feeling inside of me while driving our speed boat wearing that black Rio-style bikini Kat picked out for me. For one thing, if her husband Tom had been along on this trip, I wouldn’t have worn that suit in front of him. But wearing it in front of these two amazing ladies who expected me to wear it was a different story. I felt semi-comfortable wearing it in front of them. Perhaps it was because I knew it pleased my Mistress for me to do it willingly.  Maybe I had a small exhibitionist streak. Mainly, I think it was our deep friendship and trust that enabled all of us to enjoy a sensual, if not sexy day on the lake, wearing as little clothing as socially acceptable.

My cock seemed to take all of that in stride by not getting embarrassingly erect inside of its small confines—until Mistress asked me to fetch drinks from the cooler in the back and serve them in the front. After serving the drinks to the ladies, I turned to go back to the rear of the boat, and as I did, Mistress reached for my cock and cupped it in her hand and held it there momentarily. I had to stop because there was no way I was going to brush past her.  But this moment of pleasure in front of Kat sent an explicit message: everything inside of that suit and everything attached to it my Mistress owned. Any hope I had of keeping my cock from growing inside the thin spandex was now lost. Within a few seconds, it had pushed against the fabric to find sparse room for its unexpected arousal. Thinking non-sexy thoughts was of no use, especially since Mistress demanded that I not forgo wearing my leather cock collar on its tightest setting even under this revealing swimsuit. That meant that blood was able to flow freely into my cock but unable to flow freely out.  Nasty thing, that leather cock collar. Once the blood started flowing in, there was no going back—at least not for a long time. My prick had a mind of its own, and it was going to get large and stay large; there was nothing I could do about it. If the Lycra previously revealed the shape and size of my flaccid cock, it certainly was not going to hide the contours of it now as it rose and engorged.

A few minutes later, Mistress, knowing perfectly well what she had done had caused, instructed me to get the fruit out of the cooler and bring it up front. I served her and Kat the delicious grapes and peaches and strawberries, again without pleasantries. There were no “please and thank yous” attached to her commands. After enjoying their fruit, Mistress handed me the SPF4 suntan lotion she needed me to apply to her back. When I reached under the strings of her top to ensure full coverage, my cock nearly leaped out of its prison. Had Kat been able at that moment to look at my suit from my angle, she would have seen the skin of my shaft appear where it pushed the suit away from my abdomen.  I futilely wished Mistress would release me to the rear of the boat to somehow hide my erection. Instead, when her skin was coated, Mistress reached around to fondle my butt cheek, pushing the rear fabric aside and in towards my butt crack so she could gain more access to skin. That was all I could take. Knowing an ejaculation was imminent, I hurriedly returned the bottle to Mistress, retreating to the safety of the driver’s seat.

The problem was, I thought the driver’s seat would provide me with cover and a smidgeon of privacy, but it wasn’t to be.  The girls now wanted to tan by laying on their stomachs on the loungers in the back of the boat where I was sitting, something they could not do in the cramped front seats. Once they got settled, Mistress was the first to untie her bikini bra straps so she would get an even tan. Kat saw and promptly did the same. Mistress and her best friend were not making it any easier for my aroused cock to subside and find its own flaccid safety somewhere inside the 3 inches of fabric it called a temporary home.  There was simply too much female flesh visible to my eyes. I probably could have watched the fishermen fishing in their boat only 50 yards away, to try to put my mind on something other than two lithe bodies laid out in front of me. But, hey, I’m male. That was an impossibility.

Staring at two completely bared backs and two gorgeous asses that were only half covered made me realize why I was so willing to be a slave. Maybe they felt comfortable exposing as much skin as they did because I was forced to reveal as much as I did. That wouldn’t be happening if I wasn’t my Mistress’s slave husband. Mistress and her best friend Kat could now feel comfortable wearing Rio style bikinis in front of me because that’s all they allowed me to wear in front of them. We may have worn the same amount of skimpy material, seeing as our suits were nearly equal in their stingy coverage, but I was at a severe disadvantage in a different way. My sexual arousal stood plainly visible to Mistress and Kat; they could easily see my erection.  If there had ever been any doubt in Kat’s mind that I was a slave husband to her best friend, that lazy afternoon in the sun on the lake took it away.


This is Mistress S. The account slave Corey just shared with you is mostly true. Kat did indeed pick out the bikinis my slave husband wore during that vacation and in her presence years later on our boat. The dialogue at the store may not be exactly word for word, but slave certainly got the “gist” of it all.

And as far as me grabbing his cock in front of Kat—well, I wouldn’t say I grabbed it, but I may have intentionally brushed up against his member just a little. But yes, that rub was all it took to start his erection.  From what I remember, though, his cock didn’t need any external stimulation.  Just serving the two of us in our bikinis was all it took for him to get aroused and stay aroused.

If you might be concerned by how much skin we showed in the boat, we both kept our breasts covered once we finished tanning our backs. But, that wasn’t for slave’s sake. Men were fishing not far away. If we had been in a more private bay, my top would have come off, and I would have been perfectly fine with Kat baring her beautiful breasts in front of my slave as well since she and I share the same philosophy that nudity is not sinful. It’s the desire to have sex with someone that doesn’t belong to you that is sinful and lustful. So, perhaps I will have slave write about a time when my breasts were visible in public, and another time his cock was apparent behind a sheer-when-wet white cotton G-string I made him wear on the beach and in the ocean on a vacation we took in Negril, Jamaica.

Yes, as I admitted above, I was a bit of a “cock tease” on the boat that day, knowing he would have great difficulty preventing the bulge in his tiny suit. But I knew that Kat wouldn’t mind a little display of what I owned even though it remained mostly covered. That’s because slave Corey’s description of Kat as “earthy” is also accurate. She is the most uninhibited and fun female friend I have ever known, and while we lived in the same city, we were inseparable. To this day, Kat is the only non-stranger to know that Corey is my sex slave husband.

As for strangers who became aware of our relationship, well, that will have to wait for another episode that slave will write for you soon.

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12 replies
  1. hornyGG says:

    I purchased my husband a skimpy man bikini once. I think he might have worn it maybe three times. He said it wasn't all that comfortable. To me he looked sexy as hell, but I must admit there was too much meat for such a little wrapper. ?
    Loved the story! God bless and stay horny!

  2. Penny4URthoughts says:

    Between marriages I had a couple dates with a very nice man. On the third date he brought up his desire was to find a mistress so he could be her sex slave. That I seemed like a strong woman. I told him I was pretty vanilla when it comes to sex except for a threesome in my past. But I was curious about his lifestyle choice. His leather collection and tools including whips put me off. After a discussion of why he liked it, I said goodnight and it was our last date. I still don’t understand the desire. But agree it isn’t a sin and if people like it, good for them.

  3. Liverr says:

    That is a great experience the three of you had. Here is our take on the situation: in today's society, erect anatomy is so forbidden and shunned. When a wife walks past the freezer section at a food store, she usually feels the coldness and gets erect nipples. First thing she does is cover up. How many thousands of erections have hubs or teens had in public – it's considered inappropriate and they always hide them. In most movies, you never see an erect male … why? They are so natural, so frequent, but as a society we can't move to accept them – why?? Every morning our hubbies (and sons) wake and walk around with their morning erections – part of nature that they can't control. In your situation on the boat, you were embarrassed by what's human nature. If society would accept and admire human physiology, life would be much easier. And you would have been able to just hang out w/ wife and Kat and not be embarrassed by your erection; and those two would have been at complete ease with seeing you that way. And the day would have probably have had the same outcome of relaxing on the boat. Lastly, society has taught men to never have an erection in front of other men – why? They all get them. And heaven forbid if one hubs looks to see what another hubs genitals look like – why? My hubs got in trouble at our local YMCA b/c he was shaving down there in the men's shower and was reported!

    • SecondMarge says:

      The debate continues over where the line of acceptable sexual behavior should be drawn. Heaven forbid that I show cleavage or my nipples push against the material of my blouse. Worse yet if a male other than my husband observes my breasts and gets an erection. Then we have both sinned, according to some. I must admit adjusting to seeing my son’s morning erections was difficult at first. But that is because we are taught the most natural things are bad, evil, a sin. We need to eliminate the sight-of-human-body-as-evil nonsense.

    • tdx30 says:

      Thanks, Liverr, for your insightful comments. So true that society (not Scripture) has dictated what is proper and improper to be seen in public and, as you say, since it is natural, why does society condemn it? How many young boys going through puberty were too embarrassed to get out from their desks at school because they had and could not control their erections? Or, as Mistress keeps complaining, why do women have to wear those uncomfortable bras? Is it to hide their nipples from public view? Or is it to provide lift and cleavage for breasts? I still don't know the purpose for which they were made. I so appreciate the comments posted here about not making it a sin what God had made a natural part of our physiology. But, I don't think society is going to change its standards any time soon. It sounds like you are teaching your sons to accept the way God made them and have given them a healthy environment to appreciate their bodies and not be embarrassed by them. That's what every parent needs to teach their boys and girls very early on. Now, off I go to the YMCA to a private shower stall to do my own shaving as required by Mistress. That your hub got "reported" is insane for doing the same in a public stall. For what? I bet the staff at the Y couldn't give a rational reason for that one. Thanks again for your common sense perspectives.

  4. IndyDad says:

    Well aside from the whole Master and Mistress thing – which is way my beyond my understanding and "approval" – I do find Liverr and SecondMarge's comments interesting. Thanks to that ol' apple in the Garden, we all grow up thinking nudity or even little clothing is something naughty. Yet human bodies do have natural reactions like erections and hard nipples. Marge said she had difficulty adjusting to seeing her son's morning erections. The reverse of that is perhaps a boy seeing his mom in her underwear or even partially nude. For most boys their mom IS the first female they see in such a state. After a certain age though, a boy's innocence is lost, and other thoughts get in his head, seeing his mom or sister in their underwear. I agree we need to eliminate the sight-of-human-body-as-evil or naughty nonsense.

    • SecondMarge says:

      I must admit I had some difficulty wondering if I was the cause of his erection. Should I be more careful what I wear around the house. I don’t parade around nude, but he probably has gotten a glimpse of my partially dressed body. Do I have to wear a bra at home? He certainly has taken a long look at my nipples straining at my top. I decided that It all was natural and any changes would send the wrong message. As long as neither of us acts on what we see it isn’t wrong, nor should either of us be embarrassed. It seemed to get us through those early turbulent hormone times.

  5. Flying Hubby says:

    Nudity is not sex. People have made it such. There are plenty of societies where people go nude, they aren’t having sex. The fascination I read here about going to a nude beach is interesting. People don’t have sex on those beaches; they may glance around but it’s just people enjoying the sun and freedom of not wearing clothes. Not sexual at all. That slight thrill that Slave felt in this story is delicious. It didn’t turn into sex and didn’t seem like it would at all in front of a third person but there is nothing wrong with the tease it produced. Not sure if the master-slave thing would work for me, but the teasing part of that sounds exquisite.

    • SecondMarge says:

      I would go one step further that even if you enjoy the view of another person nude on the beach there is nothing wrong with it.

  6. Snakedoc says:

    Love the story! Hope you will keep writing. I want to hear more about y'alls lifestyle. I'm single and hope to try this with my wife. Though I think I'm more of a switcher so would want to be the one in charge as well.

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