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FemDom Marriage – Source For Husband Training

Husband Training For Her Happiness, Control and Pleasure

FemDom Marriage – Commitment (2)

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She walked in the door from the garage and hung her keys on the hook. The kitchen looked immaculate – even the floor looked like it had been mopped. Hearing the dryer, she opened the door to the laundry room and flicked on the light. It was a complete transformation, so clean and organized.

As she pulled the door shut, he walked into the kitchen from the other direction with a full laundry basket.

“Well! She’s back already! How was your …what would that be… ‘time alone’, or ‘time away’? Or something…” He pecked her on the cheek as he passed to the laundry room.

“It was nice. ” She looked around the kitchen. “You mopped! The kitchen looks great! And you mopped the laundry room floor, too?”

“Yep.”

“You were productive.”

“Well…’bout time, maybe, huh?” He opened the door to the laundry room and set down the basket, closing the door. “Too little, too late?”

That stung a little. Her head drew back 1/4 of an inch. “I was paying you a compliment.”

He put his hands gently and firmly on her biceps and looked into her eyes. “Thank you. Sorry for being short with you, that way.”

“Okay.”

He looked away, then looked back deeply into her eyes, still holding her arms. “I DO want to please you. I love you. And as long as we’re together, no matter what you say, I belong to you. I came up way short. I feel like I failed you. But I know I can be a better husband, a better version of me. And that started this afternoon.”

She was silent. Then she move her arms and connected her hands with his.

“Okay. Listen, maybe I over-reacted today, I…” she started.

“No, really I think you were right. You are right. If I say I want this, and then don’t live up to my part of it – what is that, anyway?”

She let go of his hands and stepped into the room.

“Can we try to let go of this for awhile – just let it have a few days to …?”

“Yes. I think that’d be a great idea.” He started to walk out of the kitchen.

“Hold on!” she commanded.

He stopped and turned.

Stepping towards him, “I don’t need any bullshit, butt-hurt peevish behavior. You got that?”

“Yes.”

“You DO belong to me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So, GET OVER IT!”

“Okay”

After a long pause, looking into each others eyes, she pulled him close: “And so will I.”

“Okay.”

They hugged deeply.

Grabbing her again by the biceps, he said “And now I have to ask: [pause] What would you like for dinner?”.

She smiled.

“Is it too late for steaks on the grill?”

“No, I can do that – if you’ll help flavor them. Baked potatoes or french fries?”

“Mmmm…how about baked.”

“Cool! Broccoli ok?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“Did you do this same magic on the closet floor, too?”

“You want a tour?”

“Why, yes., thank you!”

“Right this way, madam.”

He led the way down the hall to the bedroom and opened the closet door. The explosion of dirty clothes was gone and the hamper was full, but not overflowing.

“Wow!”

“It takes a village,” he said. “Or at least the village idiot.”

She smiled.

The remainder of the evening set the tone for the next few days. There was collegiality and even some laughter, but definitely nothing ‘hot’, or even loosely called ‘romantic’. They were, after all, once again…a ‘normal’, happily married couple.

Finally, they snuggled together and went to sleep, still very much in love.

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