Owned and Loaned – My Journey into Ultimate Obedience

Dear FemdomU Forum,

I always thought my relationship with Hannah was the pinnacle of a Female-Led Relationship. We have been together for four years, and for the past two, I have been fully under her control through a contract that I signed willingly. She makes all decisions, big and small, while I focus entirely on serving and obeying. I have no financial worries, no decisions to make—just my daily tasks, which are dictated by her. I clean, I cook, I serve, I obey. It’s a dynamic that has brought both of us immense satisfaction.

But last month, Hannah did something I never expected. She sold me. Well, rented me out, technically.

I’ve recalled the conversation and activities to the best of my memory, and wanted to share them with the readers here:

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I came home from work as usual, greeted Hannah, and knelt at her feet, as was our evening ritual. She stroked my hair affectionately before dropping the bombshell.

“Charlie, I made a deal with Mrs. Smith,” she said, her tone as casual as if she were discussing groceries. “She paid for a full 24 hours of your service.”

I blinked up at her, trying to process what she had just said. “Paid?” I asked, my voice betraying my confusion.

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “She made a very generous offer for you. And since you belong to me, I agreed. You will be spending the next 24 hours serving her. Completely.”

My heart pounded. I had met Mrs. Smith a few times. She was a widow in her early thirties, a sophisticated and commanding woman who always had an air of mystery about her. I had always felt a certain tension when she was around, but I never expected this.

“Come now, Charlie. You don’t get a say in this.” Hannah stood and led me to the door. When she opened it, Mrs. Smith was already waiting, leaning against the frame with an amused smirk.

“Good evening, Charlie,” she purred. “Come along now.”

Hannah gave me one last look. “Be good for her. Obey her as you would me.”

And just like that, I was handed over like property.

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The moment I stepped into Mrs. Smith’s house, she closed the door and turned to face me, arms crossed. “Strip,” she commanded.

I hesitated for half a second before my hands moved automatically to obey. I had no idea what she planned, but I knew my place. Within moments, I was completely naked, my clothes in a neat pile on the floor. Mrs. Smith circled me slowly, inspecting me like she had just received a new toy.

“You will remain like this for the next 24 hours,” she said. “Now, let’s begin.”

She handed me a list of chores, and I immediately got to work. At first, it felt like any other day—scrubbing the floors, dusting, washing dishes. The only difference was her ever-present gaze, her sharp eyes watching my every move. If I slowed down or made a mistake, she would correct me with a firm slap on my ass or a sharp tug on my ear.

By mid-morning, I was on my hands and knees scrubbing her bathroom floor when she decided to have some fun. She stepped into the shower, turned on the water, and then called me in.

“You’re not just here to clean my house, Charlie,” she said as she lathered her body with soap. “You’re here to serve me in every way.”

I swallowed hard, my body already reacting to the implications. She noticed, of course.

“On your knees,” she ordered.

And from there, my day as her plaything truly began.

I was ordered to kneel before her, and I obeyed. I eagerly kissed and worshipped each inch of her soft, delicate soles as she sat comfortably in her plush armchair. The leather-bound book nestled in her hands, its pages turning leisurely with each flick of her wrist. Every few moments, she would forcefully press the sole of her foot against my flushed face, leaving a temporary imprint and reminding me that my purpose was to serve her.

Her laughter filled the air between us while she teased me mercilessly, using her toes to graze the tip of my throbbing arousal. A wicked grin spread across her face as she noted my desperation, making no effort to hide the delight in having complete control over me. As her toes continued to tease my cock, they became covered in my precum. She shoved her toes in my mouth, ordering me to clean my filth from her toes. She then would move her foot back to my cock, causing My breath came in ragged gasps as she brought me close to the edge, only to pull away at the last second – a repeated process that left me trembling and deprived of satisfaction.

Meanwhile, she shamelessly indulged in her own desires. Slowly sliding her free hand beneath her lacy panties, she began to touch herself intimately. She moaned softly as her fingers glided across sensitive spots and occasionally locked eyes with mine, knowing just how much it tormented me to witness her pleasure. Her back arched slightly when waves of ecstasy washed over her, but she never relented in keeping me denied and on edge – an exquisite torment that served as a testament to our forbidden dynamic.

When she grew tired of my service, she had me stand in the corner, hands behind my back, while she enjoyed a glass of wine and watched a movie. Occasionally, she would summon me to refill her drink or massage her shoulders. Each time, she made sure to remind me who was in control.

The night was even more intense. She led me to her bedroom, where she bound my wrists and ankles to her four-poster bed. The next few hours were a blur of pleasure and pain, as she used me in every way she desired. She was merciless, keeping me right at the edge without allowing me release. I begged, but she only laughed and continued her cruel game.

“You’re not here for your pleasure,” she whispered against my ear. “You exist for mine.”

By the time morning arrived, I was exhausted, drained in every possible way. Mrs. Smith untied me, gave me a pat on the head, and sent me to the kitchen to make her breakfast.

As I served her, she looked at me with satisfaction. “You were worth every penny,” she mused. “Maybe I’ll rent you again sometime.”

When Hannah finally came to collect me, I was relieved but also strangely exhilarated. She inspected me with a knowing smile.

“Good boy,” she murmured. “Did you enjoy your little adventure?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could, she silenced me with a finger to my lips. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Because I enjoyed it. And that’s what’s important.”

And just like that, I was back in my rightful place—at her feet, where I belonged.

Sincerely,
Charlie (property of Hannah)