College Chastity Choice Game 2

Wesley isn't home yet, so I decided to press my luck. I start by undressing. To me, a naked woman is a clear sign of submission.

For months, MONTHS, I have been asking him to take charge in the bedroom, and even outside the bedroom. He's been resisting, but never saying no.

He's been asking things from me, like more sex, including more anal sex and more positions. I thought, maybe I can leverage this? So, I told him, "truly dominate me and you can have anal sex".

Did he dominate me? Barely. He bossed me around, got anal sex, and the next day, we were back to our normal routine.

The following night, I told him, no sex unless you dominate me for real. So, he spanked me, a little. I ceded, we had vanilla sex and the next day, we were back to a vanilla relationship.

Wesley doesn't get it. I want him to own me. It's like my number one fetish. Why? That's a long story. Perhaps I had enough pressure in school, at work, with my parents who were fully hands-off but still strict?

They wouldn't teach me things, and then punish me for not knowing how to do things. "Rayanne, are you stupid? You don't cook a grilled cheese on high! You burned it and triggered the smoke alarm, you are grounded for a week"

But did they teach me? No. Their method seems to be, let me do anything, and yell and punish me when I mess up.

So, I grew up longing for structure, for guidance and as an adult, I want Wesley to give that to me. Is that so complex?

And yet, he doesn't get it. At some point, I thought he was getting it, so I agreed to get engaged, and then, to get married. But it was just a start. I wanted more, and the little he managed to keep until marriage, was lost to routine.

Worse, he began to show submissive tendencies. I mean, he bought a chastity device and began wearing it. Yes, a male one. I would have found it more interesting if he grabbed a female one, but he locked himself up, expecting me to take his key.

I put a stop to that, and fast. "Wesley, I told you from the start that I wanted to be submissive"

"Yes, but why can't I be from time to time? I mean, I could order you to cuckold me while I am in chastity, that would be me dominant to you and you would be dominant to me? Wouldn't we both be happy?"

That was the more stupid thing he ever said. I wouldn't mind him lending me, but I want to feel him dominant, not like a pussy whimpering in the corner.

The best he proposed was to remain in chastity all week, tying me and hitting me during the week so that he would only have sex on the weekend. But then, he wanted me to take the key to his chastity device away from him.

He doesn't get it. So we fight, and fight.

However, this stops now. I might not be able to force him to be dominant, but I can force myself to be submissive. No matter what. Tonight, he would see me as his slave. I will force him to.

If it doesn't work, I'll leave him, find a dominant man to own me, and he can find a keyholding woman to boss him around.

So, I dig in my drawers and find my collar. I was always hoping for Wesley to officially collar me and take me as his slave, but he never did. I did put a few times, and even explained to him the significance. Nothing. No reactions from him. He did steal it twice to put it on, which was the most insulting thing he ever did to me. A collar is personal. It marks my commitment.

So, I have to collar myself, again. I know, it's pathetic, but if I don't take things into my own hands, I will never be dominated.

Being submissive is easy. I just let him decide. "What should we eat?", he might ask. "Whatever you want, Master".

Simple for me, but he has to take the leash and dominate me for me to feel submissive. Otherwise, it's a one-way street.

Oh, speaking of leash, I grab it and hook it to the collar. Letting it dangle down means that it shifts and balances, brushing my breasts.

Once, I managed to make him hold it, but he didn't like it at all. Not one bit.

Today. He would. I would not do anything. I would kneel on the floor, and not move until he would take it and lead me. If I have to pee on the floor, so be it. If I have to miss supper, so be it. Tonight, Wesley would take control or I would spend the night, kneeling on the floor.

I grab my leather restraints. I start with my cuffs, and I continue with my ankle restraints.

Looking in the dresser. I find the thighs restraints and lock them in. What I love about them is twofold. One, they have a chain between them which cannot be removed.

Not only do they prevent me from taking large steps, but they in effect prevent vanilla intercourse. If he wants to have sex, he will need to either to remove them, or to take me from behind, crushing me in the mattress. Yum... I can almost see it now.

Now, he could remove them, but the kicker is that like all my restraints, I can lock them in.

Locking my ankle or wrist cuffs wouldn't change much, but the thigh restraints are very restrictive and I am pretty confident that he would be searching for the key.

So, I grab the All Bran cereal box. It's not even ours. Sometimes, my mother comes to Florida and she eats All Bran for breakfast. We keep it in the pantry, at the back on the top shelf.

Oh, wait, I can't reach the top shelf, and I can't climb on a chair. Stupid chain.

So, I unlock one of the cuffs, climb on a chair, and put the key under the inner bag of the cereals, and put it back.

After locking the cuff back, I realize how stupid I was. I can't unlock myself now! Oh well, if he doesn't, I can put a skirt on top of it. Or I could find cutters. Perhaps cut the locks. Not the chain, it would ruin the restraints, and if I cut them, it will be to get back to my life after deciding to divorce him or something.

I tiptoe back to our room, and search my dresser. Perhaps I shouldn't have started with the tight restraints?

In the dresser, I grab a ball gag, but up not to put it. Why? Because I drool with it, and I have no idea when Wesley will be back home. He might tutor a new student who was missing requirements. Perhaps a colleague asked questions. Maybe he went for coffee with Cliff, one of his co-workers.

But I do grab the blindfold and two carabiners.

I get to the kitchen. First, I use one of the carabiners to tie the leash to the oven, and then, the second to tie my hands behind my back, but not before blindfolding myself.

And now, it was a waiting game.