Subliminal Wife Training Novels & Stories

From what she knew, their family speaks through codes and hidden meanings. Treating their situation like a puzzle or strategic game makes her head feel like it's about to burst. Even after all the preparation, she finds herself at a loss for words and remains an observant outsider to a family that she is technically still a part of, even with the lack of a wedding ring on her finger. “My son has his ways of getting on my nerves, doesn't he?” Adele was looking straight through her eyes. “I’m sure as his wife; you would know a thing or two about his… patience, or the lack thereof. Something he definitely got from his father.”

Another caress of his thumb now over the back of my bare hand has butterflies rushing all along the pit of my stomach even as we slowly move to leave the room. Grant now leading me out towards the hallway and to where the dining room was stationed like always. Lucus, Tony and Alex all there waiting for us. The thought of what was about to transpire going forward sent a tiny thrill throughout my body. Easy Isabella, Easy. Don’t get too far ahead of yourself, remember this is training 101 for you and in order to be the perfect submissive you first need to know what it means to be one.

As far as my sister was concerned, I was useless. "It's for speeding up your data," I lied. "It uses a bunch of servers in different countries, and it basically lets you d******d things faster. You can use it for photos, videos, music, anything." "Sure," she nodded. "Sounds good." Twenty minutes later, the custom app was installed. It doesn't, as I'm sure you've worked out, make your connection any faster (that's basically impossible). What it did do was flash subliminal messages on the screen every thirty seconds; they appeared so fast, the conscious brain couldn't process what was happening, let alone read them. It didn't even notice them.

I joined them a few times each week, and to my amazement, my abilities flourished far beyond what I had ever envisioned. Through our purposeful training exercises, Dean and I developed such a profound attunement with one another that it was nearly impossible to tell where one of us ended and the other began. We could perceive each other's thoughts and experiences in real-time, and at times, we could even subtly influence each other's actions when necessary. This deep connection opened up a wealth of intriguing opportunities for us as husband and wife, enriching our relationship both in and out of the bedroom.

"She locked another person up in a mental hospital for five years just to film her reality show. Any sane person would go crazy if they were stuck in such horrible circumstances." "The scariest one of them all is Cole. I can't believe that he was willing to send his own wife to a mental hospital." Natalie was completely blacklisted in the industry, while Cole's company, Foster Group, was also negatively impacted. It was obvious that Cole had lost an alarming amount of weight when he showed up for a press conference. There were dark bruises under his eyes. "I had no idea that the staff members of the mental hospital were abusing my wife. I was also completely unaware that Natalie was the mast

My name is Christine Wheeler. I just got married yesterday, and my husband, Matthew Wheeler, already complained about my skills in bed, so he signed me up for the "Wife Training Camp." The guy running it was Peter Sutton. He was extremely well-endowed, the kind that couldn't fit in your mouth. Right after I joined the group chat, he posted the assignment for the day. Every member had to practice their hip movements. We had to make our ass jiggle like Jell‑O, and then film it and post the video in the chat.

If it wasn’t for his shows in California, I would have left everything and gone back to New York in a heartbeat. I browse through some work emails, and an email from Dom’s club catches my attention. Subject: Invite for Sub’s training ‘Dear Sophia, We received your interest in the Sub’s training. Here is our formal invite for you. Please pay the donation to book your spot. During this training we will identify your kinks, whether it lies in bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, or sadism and masochism.’ I take a quick glance and my eyes widen to notice the fee of 100k a year. What services do they provide with this huge money? Or is it the high standard of being rich?

"When I was with him—with Sir—I felt more alive than I've ever felt. More seen. More valued. He pushed me to places I didn't know I could go. He made me feel powerful in my submission." "That's conditioning," Natasha said firmly. "He trained you to respond to him. Like Pavlov's dog. Ring the bell, the dog salivates. Say 'good girl,' Vivian gets wet. That's not real connection—it's programming." "Maybe." I met her eyes. "But what if it's more than that? What if I wanted this before I knew I wanted it? What if he just showed me something that was always there, waiting to be found?" She didn't have an answer to that.

I hated her. She looked at me like I was a book out of place on her shelf. “This,” she repeated smoothly, “is the wife who lets my son drown alone.” She repeated. I swallowed. My hands were shaking. I was this close to losing it. I didn’t care what happened after. I wasn’t ready to be bashed again. This has to stop. I opened my mouth but Richard beat me to it. “Mother please, now’s not the time.” “No, let her speak,” Madam Clarisse said, lifting one manicured hand. “I would love to hear how suspicion and emotional chaos are now considered marital support.”

He placed the phone to his ear, praying he had the courage to tell his wife what was happening. "Who's this?" She asked. "It's me, honey. I have to tell you something." "What?" Her voice sounded dire. Can I go on? "It's about Ema, She fell unconscious..." "What!" His wife's voice rang repeatedly in his ear, "What happened to her?" "The doctor said she has a brain lesion apparently from her accident and it might be healing so—" "So what?" "Her memories are coming back." "What? No! We'll lose her." She was hysterical.