Although B and I had been arguing on an almost daily basis, B had begun to add excitement within the bedroom. Unbeknown to me for all our years together, he loved the thought of being in control. He began surprising me by buying chains to attach to the four-poster (from the local DIY store!). He wanted me to show him the toys I'd got. He wanted to use the wrist and ankle cuffs on me. Nipple clamps and blindfolds were used. Hot wax and ice were used! I was ordered which outfit to put on. He even set about shaving me (just use your imagination and it'll click into place!). My word, was this really my husband?! Was this enough to maybe build a D/s relationship on with him? Could B learn how to be my Dom? I quickly stopped thinking too much as I thought I was setting myself up for the hardest, farthest fall in my life. During all the arguments with B, Master asked me why i had been 'looking' for something else outside of my marriage. I didn't know I was 'looking'. Master believed that B held a huge part of the responsibility for my actions as, over time, I had confided in Master. I slept on the bed-settee almost permanently – B worked hard – manual work – 40 hours a week, as a self-employed joiner, and could “not afford to be kept awake by a wife who tossed and turned in the bed, and shouted out in her sleep”, which i had done since my childhood. At first, I didn't resent being on the sofa. I could watch TV for a little bit longer, read for longer, eventually, drink for longer. Drink and TV became very good friends of mine. After a while I had more in common with them than my husband. The cracks began. I began to resent that B did not offer to take turns on the sofa bed I worked full time also. I was PA to a Mental Health Team Manager. I had to be professional, had deadlines to meet. Accuracy, confidentiality, and efficiency were essential. I worked as hard as B. He worked on our doorstep whereas I had a 50 mile round trip to and from work in all weather. The sofa bed was a huge, metal framed contraption that, although was very comfortable, became a pain in the ass to get out every night, make up with the bedding then to put away each morning. B couldn't understand why I lost myself each night in TV and alcohol. He didn't understand (or want to admit) that they were the only stimulation I was getting in my life outside of work. Master concluded that B had to take some responsibility for where I was and how I had arrived there.

I put this exact point to B one evening when I asked him if we could talk. I was surprised at how easily he admitted the same. He did believe if he had worked harder at the marriage i may not have 'looked' for anything else. At no point did i ever want an affair with another man. I never wanted anyone to replace B. None of us could say for sure if I would have been happy had he paid me all the attention in the world, without my submissive side having ever been woken. Although it's been hard I know I am true to myself now. I have to accept who I am and one day, learn to love myself.

Before B spoke, I was all ready to make the arguments as to why I could not give up my submissive nature, had so many of these conversations pre-recorded in my head. Had cried harder into my pillow over those past few weeks that any time in my life. Thought my head would explode or madness take over – one or the other seemed welcomed right now. B said he could never accept, no matter how hard he tried, that another man was in control of what I did to my body. He couldn't even handle the emotional side of my relationship with Master now. Even a simple txt would push him further and further. What came next astounded me. It was Master or him. I asked him how long could he live with a submissive that wasn't able to submit? How long could he watch me slowly shrivel emotionally? The times I had explained to him what being submissive meant to me and he seemed to understand to a degree. Could he be happy living with me, knowing my needs were in no way being met? He looked confused. He said he needed an answer! I made it perfectly clear that i would not just agree to deny my submissiveness at his order without thinking it all through properly. This was not something I did to 'spice up my love life', this was who i was. I needed to be guided, nurtured, and cherished, in return for my commitment, loyalty, respect and love. He agreed to give me a little more time. I was in constant touch with Master over the next few days. Master never pressured me – he genuinely only wanted me to be happy. If it meant me giving him up then he would accept that but, like me, knew that a submissive cannot live a life without submitting. Master could tell I did not wish to leave B. Over the past couple of months I had begun to realise just how much my husband did love me. Even Master was telling me that. B had already admitted his part in the failure of our marriage. Acknowledging a problem is often half way to solving it.

I asked B one night if I could talk to him about our situation, to help me with a decision. What I didn't realise was that, the longer I took in making a decision, the more of an affront this was to his feelings. It's strange how obvious things are now but I really only saw 'blinkered' back then. I asked B how he would feel if I gave Master up and stayed with him as his wife, then i became withdrawn and extremely unhappy, through no fault of my own. He would soon tire of a wife with that attitude and, even though he loved me, may not be able to save the marriage anyway. I felt like I was the one that was being asked to give everything up. I was being asked not to just give up Master, but deny something that was a part of me! You can't ask someone to completely change part of their character or personality. I asked if I could continue serving Master so long as I promised to never meet him again face to face or to ever send him any images of myself. Master could set many tasks and regular behaviour for me that did not have to be sexual. I told B that if I could still serve someone, I could be a happy wife for him. I also told B that I would not lie to him and he did know me well enough to know that if I promised him something I would never break that promise. I wanted B to be happy, I wanted him in my life, I didn't want to leave him or visa versa. I did ask though if I could meet Master one last time to say a 'proper goodbye'. This was one question too much. B flipped big time. I can hardly remember the things that were said in the heat of that moment. We both said all the cruel things that only two very close people knew were the right buttons to push. I went to work the next day without a word being said between us. Needless to say I had a shit day. By this time, B had virtually retired from his employment due to arthritis and tinnitus that had caused him depressive episodes numerous times over the last couple of years. When I returned home that Friday teatime, B's car was not there. I had expected him to go to his mum's. What I hadn't been expecting was the letter awaiting me. These pages can never do justice to that letter. I have that letter still and will keep it forever. B is far from the greatest romantic. He began by apologising for “being a twat”. He gets like that when he thinks he is losing the woman he loves more than anyone he's ever loved. He talked of the wonderful sex and love-making we had been doing lately. He wanted, needed me to think about what I seemed to be so willing to throw away. He wanted us to work on what we had begun. The letter took me so long to read as the tears were flowing so hot. The sobs began to make my whole body shake. Leaning against the kitchen cupboards I slowly slid to the floor with my head in my hands. It was the first time in my life I realised that someone loved me all consumingly. Everyone says “I love you” all the time to their partners but how many of us actually realise the full extent of it? What was I doing to him? How could I make everything right where both parties can be happy and fulfilled? Was B's talk of the bedroom his way of saying he'd be willing to try the D/s lifestyle? Dare I hope for that? I txt Master. He was the only person I knew I would always get the truth from and the only person who knew what was happening. Master truly felt for B. He felt for me and my dilemma but for once he admitted that there was no right or wrong answer. It all came down to me choosing what I wanted. He would support me no matter what I decided as my happiness was paramount to him but no one could make this decision any easier for me. I admired him for his honesty. I did not ring B as he would not have expected me to, we both needed space. I had the weekend to think. I knew B would return Sunday afternoon and by lunch time my nerves were tattered. I knew exactly what I was going to do. When B came through that front door I asked him if we could talk. I told him how beautiful his letter was. I told him I wanted to ask him something and i needed to hear the truth. The rest of our lives depended on him telling me the truth. There could only be two possible outcomes from his answer and one of them would crucify the pair of us. . .