Chapter 3

Introduction: Caning, Chastity, and Liz ... Oh My.

It was incredibly difficult talking to my best friend, Liz, concerning the momentous changes in my marriage that occurred over the past two months. I had long suspected that she considered me a prude or, at the very least, sexually non-adventurous. Perhaps, compared to her, I was.

I had only known Liz for a little more than a year, and both of us were quite reserved when we met. However, once we really got to know each other and trust was established, she confided in me that she took many lovers, both male and female. Additionally, she told me she enjoyed black men and would sometimes take them on two at a time. She had done many things that I had only fantasized about and, to be honest, all but gave up on experiencing since I married Chris.

I had to admit, sharing intimate details of my marriage was really quite erotic. I watched as she bit her lip while I took control of Chris both in and out of the bedroom.

It was almost as if I could see her perception of me change from some goody-two-shoes priss to a refined, temporal Dominatrix. As I revealed the inner workings of my marriage over the last two months, it was amusing to watch her impression of me change with each new salacious morsel of information I revealed.

I took a sip of my protein shake and gave her a minute to digest these very new and what had to be shocking revelations about me and my marriage.

“So Chris would do anything you ask?”

“So far, he has,” I admitted. “He’s never used his safe words, but I have to admit, I haven’t really pushed him that hard.”

She gasped.

“But you fucked his ass with a dildo.”

I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Yes, but it was something he’d wanted for a long time. Many of the sites he’s viewed had to do with pegging.”

“And you weren’t ... easy on him?”

“I started off easy because it was obviously something he had never experienced before. But then I ... you know ... I was pretty rough on him.”

She smiled.

“You didn’t go easy on him at all then, did you?”

“I couldn’t go easy on him, Liz. For a submissive, being pegged is about feeling your Domme’s power and control.”

Her jaw dropped open. I could tell she was trying to wrap her mind around everything I was telling her. Liz was very sexually adventurous, and she had obviously experienced many things. However, she seemed to know very little about the BDSM lifestyle.

“There’s just so much to all of this. Where did you learn it from?”

“Mostly online and through a website called FetLife. Unfortunately, I don’t have it all figured out yet, and I’m still what I would consider a novice. I’ve talked to Dommes who have forgotten more than I know about this lifestyle.”

She smiled.

“You seem so passionate about this.”

I thought for a moment.

“I can only describe it as a sexual awakening. It’s like I’m discovering myself sexually.”

We smiled and sipped our protein shakes for a minute until she broke the silence.

“Do you really think he wants you to be with another man?”

“I think he does, but I’m really hesitant about it.”

“He’s basically giving you a hall pass. You could do whatever, or whomever, you wanted.”

It took me a little bit to process her statement and then try to find the right words.

“He’s viewed so many things online, and it’s as if he wants to try them all. I don’t think he realizes how some of what he wants could affect our marriage, and it’s like I have to be the voice of reason for both of us.”

“You’re really struggling with this, aren’t you?”

“I’ve taken total control of our marriage, which I love. However, with that control comes responsibility, and that can be very daunting at times.”

She looked into my eyes.

“You really love him, don’t you?”

“Yes, Liz, of course. This change in our marriage has really brought us closer, and I wasn’t expecting that. I had no idea that my taking control would make our marriage even stronger and cause me to fall even deeper in love with him.”

She smiled.

“Yet, you wrecked his ass?”

“It was gaped open to the size of a silver dollar, I swear.”

We laughed until we nearly cried.

“You really have two options to deal with this unacceptable behavior.”

I took a bite of my Cobb Salad and listened intently as my mentor continued to speak. Edith was an older woman. I’d guess her to be just a bit over fifty, and she was very beautiful. More importantly, she just exuded this quiet, confident sense of power. From the moment we’d met, I knew she could help me figure out what to do with Chris.

We’d ‘met’ on FetLife and discovered we were both from Las Vegas. She was a professional Dominatrix who made a very lucrative living doing sessions with submissive men. Thankfully, she agreed to meet me when I offered to take her to lunch so we could discuss some of the problems I had been having with Chris’s behavior.

I had set up a household duties list of daily and weekly chores that Chris was responsible for. Over the past month, I noted that most of his tasks were being satisfactorily completed. However, I discovered that some of the things he didn’t care to do, like cleaning the bathrooms, were being half-assed, and I was almost certain that some weeks he neglected them completely.

Edith paused to take a sip of her wine, which brought me back to the moment.

“The first school of thought is to beat his ass until he complies with the rules you’ve established for him.”

“I’ve never been keen on striking him, even though I’ve given him a few swats with my hand from time to time,” I admitted sheepishly.

She gave me a stern look.

“Most submissives enjoy corporal punishment, and I would recommend you get used to it.”

I took a deep breath and pondered her last statement. Edith was right. I remembered that many of the sites Chris viewed dealt with the Domme spanking their male submissive. However, I was reticent in basing my discipline solely on corporal punishment.

“It’s pretty obvious he’s trying to ‘top you from the bottom.’”

I had heard that term before but wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, and the questioning look on my face gave me away.

“It’s a form of manipulation exhibited by uncontrolled submissives. He’s choosing which rules he wants to follow, and you’re allowing it because you’re not correcting his behavior.”

I gave her an exasperated look. She was right.

“I really need your help then. You mentioned there were two options when it came to discipline?”

“You need to incentivize him.”

“Incentivize him how?”

“In a domestic situation like yours, you’ll find it’s much easier to reward the behavior you want to see than punishing the behavior you don’t.”

She paused and took another sip of wine before continuing.

“You told me when we met that you manage about ten people, right?”

“That’s correct. There are a dozen people now, actually.”

“How do you incentivize them to follow your company’s rules?”

I thought for a moment.

“We give them quarterly performance bonuses and paid time off if they meet their quotas.”

“Exactly! You reward your staff when they exhibit the behaviors you want to see, and I’m willing to bet that’s a lot easier than punishing them when they don’t meet your expectations, correct?”

“It’s a nightmare. The disciplinary forms are incredibly tedious, and if I have to actually let someone go ... well, the paperwork for that seems endless.”

“It’s the same concept with a submissive. Both of your lives will be much easier if you are rewarding the behavior you want to see instead of punishing the behavior you don’t.”

It all seemed so overwhelming, and I realized just how much I still had to learn.

“So where do I begin, Edith?”

She thought for a moment.

“He spends a lot of time by himself. You need to focus his attention on you even when you’re apart. He needs to be kept in chastity.”

I took a deep breath.

“Chastity is something he’s wanted to experience for a while now.”

She smiled.

“It’s time for you to take control, then, and give him what he wants.”

“When you’re done with the dishes, Chris, come in and have a seat. We need to talk.”

Our eyes met.

“Okay, Greta, just give me a couple of minutes.”

It was Saturday morning, and we had just finished breakfast. I picked up the morning paper and perused it, which gave Chris time to clear the table and do the dishes.

After a few minutes, Chris returned from the kitchen and stood beside me.

“So does this have anything to do with last night because my ass is still really sore,” he said jovially.

I didn’t like his attitude. We had important matters to discuss, and he was joking around. He wasn’t paying attention to the serious tone of my voice. I obviously needed to get his attention.

“Sit down, worm,” I hissed.

His expression immediately changed when he saw how irritated I was.

“Yes, Ma’am, I’m sorry.”

Even though I didn’t like his attitude, he was correct regarding the previous evening. We engaged in a particularly vicious pegging session where I showed him very little mercy. Afterward, he worshipped my pussy for about an hour before I allowed him to penetrate me, cum inside me, clean me, and then swallow his cum.

I took a sip of my orange juice before speaking.

“I’m having a difficult time understanding something, Chris. Perhaps you could help me.”

His eyes lowered sheepishly.

“I will assist you any way I can, Ma’am.”

“A month ago, did I give you a weekly chores list?”

His eyes remained fixed on the floor.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“How long has it been since our guest bathroom was cleaned?”

He thought for a moment.

“Two weeks ago, Ma’am.”

“How long has it been since our house was dusted?”

He paused for a few moments.

“Three weeks ago, Ma’am.”

I waited for a full minute, which created a lingering, dramatic effect. I was incredibly angry with him, but I was happy that he didn’t try to hide his wrongdoings by lying.

“Do you think that is the proper way to serve your Mistress?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“So, which one of us hasn’t lived up to our agreement?”

I saw a tear form at the edge of his eye.

“I haven’t lived up to our agreement, Ma’am.”

I shot him a disgusted look.

“I’m extremely disappointed in you, Chris. Perhaps we need to forget about this and go back to the way our marriage used to be.”

He swiftly looked up, and our eyes met. His face was awash in a look of shock and terror.

“No, Greta ... I’m sorry ... I mean, Ma’am.”

He looked down again in utter shame.

“I’m beginning to feel like this is a joke to you. I agreed to change our marriage to what you said you wanted, and this is how you behave?”

He kept his head lowered and refused to look into my eyes. Streaks of tears were running down his face, and it was obvious that this vehement chastising was having a very profound effect on him.

I paused for a full minute so he could mentally internalize my words. It was important for him to know how serious I was.

“No matter what you do, Chris, I will never stop loving you. However, I can’t abide this flagrant disregard of my rules and the disrespect you’ve shown me.”

“I’m so sorry, Ma’am,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“I realize you are sorry, but a simple apology isn’t sufficient. There has to be consequences for such blatant, disrespectful behavior.”

I looked down, and his hands were trembling. Amazingly, I also saw that he had a very noticeable erection straining against the denim of his jeans. It was very obvious that he was remorseful for his actions, but I had no idea my castigation would produce such a physical effect as well.

“Go to our bedroom, take off your clothes, and wait by the foot of our bed.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, keeping his eyes lowered to the floor.

There was an uneasiness in the pit of my stomach. I had never spoken to Chris so harshly since we’d been married, and over what? A ‘dirty’ guest bathroom that neither of us had used and a house that could probably pass a military-style white glove dust inspection.

I mentally scolded myself.

That’s not the point! I gave him a very simple list of chores, but he didn’t feel it was important enough to complete them. Yet, he made time to visit his favorite BDSM sites before I got home from work.

Unacceptable.

There was another unexpected side effect of our little exchange. My pussy was a hot, humid, moist swamp. Even though I was seething in anger at Chris’s behavior, I felt powerful, in control, and the Mistress of my domain. His submissive attitude and the power he freely gave me were the genesis of these feelings. I realized at that moment that I needed him as much, or maybe even more than he needed me.

I took several deep breaths and silently counted to ten. My mind cleared, and I felt a newfound sense of clarity and purpose. Suddenly, I could hear Edith’s words of wisdom echo in my brain:

“Never administer discipline when you’re angry.”

I sat back down at the table, took several more deep breaths, and gained control of my emotions. I also resisted the urge to rub myself through my Spandex yoga pants.

I thought of going to the bedroom and making him worship my pussy for the next several hours so he could atone for his misbehavior. However, his transgressions required a more severe punishment. If this relationship was going to work, Chris had to be put into submission and under my complete control.

Inexplicably, this felt like a turning point in our relationship. This lifestyle was either going to be real, and we were going to live it, both inside the bedroom and out, or it was just some internet-fantasy type game. I quickly came to the conclusion that if Chris wanted the latter, I couldn’t be a part of it.

I took one last deep breath and walked into our bedroom. Chris was standing naked at the foot of our bed, waiting for me, just like I had instructed.

Our eyes met.

“Sit down, Chris.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, and I pulled up a chair and sat in front of him.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully. Two months ago, when I agreed to this change in our marriage, I told you that for me to be fulfilled, this lifestyle had to be real, and this couldn’t be some game ... we have to live it.”

“Yes, Ma’am, I remember,” he said solemnly.

“Today was the first time that it felt like a game.”

He lowered his head in shame.

“Look at me, Chris.”

His eyes met mine.

“I’m going to ask you a very serious question. Do you wish to continue living this lifestyle with me?”

“Yes, Ma’am. More than anything else in the world.”

“Good. That was the response I wanted to hear from you.”

I took a deep breath of relief. I didn’t want to contemplate any answer other than the one he gave me.

“I don’t expect perfection from you because that’s unrealistic, and I realize everyone makes mistakes. However, when you make mistakes, you will be held accountable and will need to atone for them. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Retrieve the toy box from underneath the bed, Chris.”

I watched as he got down on his hands and knees and pulled our large antique chest out from under the bed that contained our sex toys. He sat back down on the edge of the bed.

I unlocked the chest and pulled out a three-foot wooden cane. It had the circumference of a large pencil. Amazingly, it was as flexible as it was strong, and the very sight of it truly looked menacing. When Edith suggested it as the discipline tool to use on Chris at our lunch, my first reaction was a very swift refusal. However, she agreed to help me pick it out and practice with it until I was confident in my abilities to use it properly.

“Do you know what this is, Chris?”

His jaw was open in utter shock, and his eyes hadn’t left the cane since I removed it from the chest.

Shit just got real again, didn’t it, babe?

“Y-y-y-es, Ma’am,” he stammered, “I know what it is.”

“Have you seen one used before?”

His eyes never left the cane that was in my hand as we spoke. There was a look of fear in his eyes, which gave me some concern. Notwithstanding, his erection never abated, and it was as if he was even more aroused now than he was before I entered the room, despite his knowledge of what had to know was coming.

“I’ve only seen videos of it being used, Ma’am.”

“Do you know why you are about to be punished?”

For the first time since I had produced the cane, our eyes met.

“Yes, Ma’am. Because I did not obey your rules and complete my chore list as you demanded.”

“That’s correct, Chris. I love you dearly, but I will not tolerate an unruly, disobedient submissive in my house, do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

My voice softened.

“Because I love you, I’m taking the time to discipline you so you can be the type of submissive husband that we both want you to be.”

Tears were filling his eyes again, and he smiled. It was important for him to understand that while I was mad at his behavior and his choices, I was not upset with him personally.

“Thank you so much, Greta ... I mean ... Ma’am.”

I nodded my head.

“You will receive five strikes from the cane, Chris. After each strike, you will count. Do you understand?”

His hands began shaking again, yet there was a calm in his eyes amidst the tears. Dare I say, an excitement that wasn’t previously there a few seconds ago. I could tell that he was experiencing a wide range of emotions simultaneously that ranged from trepidation to excitement.

“I understand, Ma’am.”

“Good, now turn around so I can restrain you.”

Wordlessly, he stood up, turned around, and placed his hands on each side of the bed next to the bedposts. I retrieved the heavy leather bindings that were attached to cable ties at the base of our bed, right above the carpet. I then attached the leather bindings to each of his wrists. I stood up, grabbed the cane, and took a moment to observe him. He looked so vulnerable, so helpless, so completely at my mercy. I could feel the power surge through my body, and it seemed to emanate from between my legs. My pussy was so hot and wet, and as I moved, I could smell myself, and I’m sure that Chris could smell me as well. I touched the end of the cane to his ass, and I could see his flesh quiver.

“Are you ready?”

His whole body was shaking in anticipation.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Without warning, I swung the cane hard, and it impacted perfectly on both of Chris’s ass cheeks with a cracking sound that filled the entire room and echoed off the walls. Chris made a loud grunting sound and buried his head in the comforter of our bed. A few seconds later, he was able to compose himself and lift his head off the mattress.

“One.”

I looked down, and a deep, red welt was already starting to form on his ass. Seeing the disturbing effects of the cane, my mind was instantly filled with doubts and reservations.

Fuck!!

Could he handle four more strikes? Should I have used something else, maybe a belt? Should I call this off or at least lighten up on him? NO!!

This needed to be done, and I needed to see it through to completion.

I raised the cane again and brought it down with as much force as the first strike. Again, a cracking sound filled our bedroom, and Chris pulled against the restraints that firmly held. He was hyperventilating in an attempt to find a way through the pain.

“Two.”

THWACK...

The third strike landed below the other two, and Chris jumped hard towards the head of the bed in a subconscious effort to escape the onslaught. Again, the heavy leather cuffs and cable ties held true and prevented him from moving very far. I could hear his heavy breathing, his hyperventilation, and again, my mind flooded with doubts and apprehension.

“Three.”

His voice gave me focus and pushed out the negative, questioning doubts.

Be strong, Greta.

At the risk of sounding condescending, disciplining him had to be tougher on me than it was on him ... well ... almost.

CRACK...

“Yellow ... Fuck ... Yellow...” Chris stammered while using his safe word for the first time.

By mistake, the fourth strike landed almost exactly where the second one had hit, which must have produced pain that he couldn’t deal with.

Shit, not what I wanted.

“Are you okay, Chris?”

He took several deep breaths and got himself under control.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“You have one left. Do you wish to continue?”

He thought for several seconds while silently contemplating his options.

“Yes, Ma’am, I want to continue.”

I had never been so proud of Chris as I was in that moment. I wasn’t going easy on him. I couldn’t. Yet, he was taking it. I took a second to compose myself and get back into character.

“Very well, worm. What is the count?”

He took a deep breath.

“Four, Ma’am.”

I lowered the cane down slowly, aiming ... Making sure the last hit would be on the bottom portion of his ass and not near the other four. I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

“SMACK...”

Chris cried out and pulled again at the restraints, which held true. Four very deep, black, and blue welts had formed on the meaty section of his ass. His head was buried deep in the comforter, and I could hear the sounds of soft sobbing. It took a full minute before he had somewhat composed himself. Without warning, he raised his head several inches off the mattress.

“Five.”

I was so proud of him. He took my discipline so well. I had never been so honored and appreciative of my husband and what he was willing to endure for me. He had taken the punishment so well, and at that moment, he was perfect for me.