I’d been quite good the past month. Very chaste with only one opportunity to give the lady of the house greater pleasure. Hannah prefers to do maintenance on a more or less random basis and had not particularly felt I needed any. Especially after my last, rather severe, caning session and milking. However, I had been out walking the dog and had found some freshly cut pussy willow shafts. A man in my position is pretty much obliged to bring his wife items for her inspection and Hannah was delighted. The thickest of the shafts was a under half an inch in diameter with a pleasing taper. I trimmed the buds off and had put them in our supplies.

I took my position and felt Hannah pull the belt tight on my wrists and ankles. “I’ll use the thick one today darling. A bit of maintenance but also a downpayment on the whipping you deserve for going out late last night.” She tried a few strokes with the willow and adjusted her stance to accommodate the slightly greater length. “I don’t have time to properly punish you this afternoon.” Hannah said bringing the willow wand down with more authority. “But don’t think for a minute I am going to let you go to the pub without my express permission.” Every third word was accompanied by a stroke. “Is that clear?”

“Yes ma’am.” I blurted out.

“Good.” said Hannah hitting her stride. I could hear the whistle of the willow as Hannah began to extend her swing. A half dozen biting stokes later she was done.

“You’ll have your real punishment soon.” Hannah said unbuckling me. “I do like the pussy willow. It is a bit heavier than the rattan.” She tossed the cane on the bed and left our room. I could not help but agree – the willow had all the sting of the rattan but somehow had more “thud”.

I composed myself and went to join my beloved lady of the house.

Then put on your pretty panties for cocktails”

“Yes, Hannah”

Lucky me!

“Go up to your corner,” Hannah said a smile on her face. I hastened to obey not entirely sure what I was being punished for or if I was being punished at all. I stripped naked, found a very pretty pair of beautifully scented black panties (which I really should have rinsed out the night before but hadn’t) and pressed my nose into my corner. It was cold in our bedroom. Cold enough that I was shivering when, ten or fifteen minutes later, Hannah came upstairs.

“I hadn’t realized it was so chilly….oh well, we’ll soon warm you up. I want to get in some practice with my cane.”

I took my position on the bed and felt Hannah tighten my belt to bind wrist to ankle. She began with quite a long and firm warm up hand spanking. And then she took her cane and got to work. The first dozen strokes were quite light.

“What I want to do, darling, is practice so that the cane hits both sides equally. This is where I usually stand and I can see that is not ideal.” And she was quite right, even with her light swings my right cheek was quite sore while the left was largely untouched.

“So what I think I need to do is stand a little further forward….like this.” Another dozen lightish strokes landed somewhat more evenly. “No, not quite right…try this.” The cane was balanced now and Hannah delivered another 12 strokes with minimum force.

“Now dear, you really were excellent yesterday and I have a surprise for you; but before I give you your surprise, and as you are so nicely bound up, I am going to give you twenty four reasonably hard strokes just to remind you of your position. And, of course, for practice.”

When Hannah whips me I can tell by the whistle of the cane how far back she is drawing her arm. Where her earlier, lighter, strokes were swung from her elbow, this set was in earnest and Hannah swung from her shoulder. It was, short of full punishment canings, the hardest I have ever been caned. Line after line was burnt into my already flaming bottom. I was vocalizing thoroughly by the fifth stroke and gasping by the end of the first dozen. I don’t really remember the last dozen. What I do remember is Hannah’s sweet voice exclaiming “Much more even. Much better” as she swung the rattan.

At last it was over. I managed a somewhat choking “Thank you darling.” Hannah let me recover a little.

“So darling, now for your surprise. I know I have not let you come for nearly two weeks and I am very much liking how attentive your chastity has made you. I was thinking of having you make me come this afternoon but I am really not in the mood. And I certainly don’t want you coming until I can use you for my greater pleasure.” Hannah walked over to a closet and rummaged for a moment or two.

“You were so very good with my ice water idea that I really thought you deserved a little reward so I am going to milk you.” Hannah returned to the bed with the little makeup bag which contained the bulbed black flexible vibrator she likes to use to stimulate my prostate. “So Darling, if you just lie on your side I’ll get you nice and wet and then I’ll slip this in and, in a few minutes, you make a nice wet mess on this tissue.”

Usually when Hannah milks my prostate she simply pushes the vibrator into my bottom, turns it on and then leaves me to squirt on my own. Not today. I felt her warm hand massage the Astroglide up and down between my cheeks warming me up before she began to use a couple of fingers to gently stretch my backdoor. Soon enough I felt the firm pressure of the well lubricated bulb of the vibrator pushed firmly into me. Hannah kept the pressure on until the vibe had lodged itself right where it could coax my emission.

Hannah flicked the switch and I felt the subtle pulse of the vibe.

“Now darling, I am going to help you a little today. However, I do not want to see any erection and I certainly don’t want you doing any thrusting.” As she spoke Hannah was establishing her own rhythm with the vibe; a gentle, back and forth, back and forth. It was no more than a few minutes before I began to feel the extraordinary sensation of fullness and then the urge to trust my hips, “None of that darling.” said Hannah using her other hand to hold me still, “Being milked is not about any of those urges. It is about my sweet darling obeying me and making his little mess without any of those more masculine jerks or an erection. Plenty of time for that when I want my greater pleasure.”

At the word “pleasure” I overflowed. Hannah kept up her rhythm until I was completely drained.

“Lovely darling.” Hannah said standing up and leaving the black vibe buried in my bottom. “When you have cleaned up join me downstairs.”

I lay, spent, my bottom pulsing from my whipping and my milking, completely, utterly and fantastically happy and in love.

“So I have been thinking and what I have thought is that, well. You know how I like to have the ice bucket for my wine filled with salt water and ice cubes and then put in the freezer.”

“Yes Hannah.”

“Well, tonight, while I am out, I’d like you to fill the ice bucket, put it in the freezer for ten minutes and then take it to the downstairs bathroom. Put it on the mat, take off your pants and kneel with your cock and balls in the ice water as long as you can stand it but not less than 90 seconds – I would really prefer two or three minutes.”

“Yes Hannah.”

What a delightfully diabolical scheme. I filled the bucket, let it cool and, gingerly knelt in the required position. And I forced myself to stay there for the full two minutes…Hannah is not back yet but I expect she will be surprised at two things: first, after about a minute my balls retracted all the way up. It was like suddenly having no testicles at all. Second, despite the pain, my cock got quite hard.

I fear that the ice bucket will likely find its way into my kneeling confessions. And, knowing Hannah, she will want to hear all the details of every sin of omission and commission as ice cubes spin gently around my quicken cock and absent balls.

She really is very clever and I am very much in love.

“Yes Dear.” The mood for what I wondered with a little smile.

Our maid is on a somewhat extended leave. Which means I am back to polishing Hannah’s boots and handwashing her intimates. Both of which remind me of my position.

Delicious.

We went about our business and, as cocktail hour approached Hannah told me to accompany her to our bedroom while she changed. I helped her pick out her outfit and fastened her back garter tabs. When she was done she turned to me,

“Apparently you did not learn your lesson yesterday. You can spend some time in your corner thinking about what you should do better and considering that tonights’ whipping will be shorter but harder than last nights’.”

I stripped, picked up Hannah’s discarded panties and stood, nose to panty to corner. It grew cold standing naked and I had to wonder at “harder”. I suspect I stood in the corner for fifteen minutes, I didn’t time it. At last I heard Hannah’s heels clicking down the hall.

“I trust you realize I mean business, I will not be spoken to disrespectfully. If you are not interested in what I am saying that is your problem, not mine. Now, take your position.”

There was nothing gentle about Hannah as she strapped me in place. Her warm ups were pro forma: the main event started almost at once. Full, hard strokes with very little pause in between. My bottom was aflame within a couple of strokes but Hannah was giving me the full dozen.

And then she switched sides and got to work evening things up. Worse, she was using her left hand and that is inaccurate. The tip of the cane snapped against my slightly exposed testicle…I nearly jumped off the bed and would have had I not been restrained. Hannah finished up and released me.

“Now, if you are rude again I will whip you again, each time a little harder. Men are often slow learners.” As she spoke she was holding my half erect cock. She gave it a squeeze, perhaps promising something later, turned on her heel and left me to recover as best I could.

I am, as my commentors tell me, a very lucky man.

So, which of the following do you think will be most effective in 2012?

It was marred only once, last night, when I was sharp with Hannah. She said nothing. And, I thought, the incident had been dismissed. We had a wonderful Christmas and, at cocktails, as the turkey cooked, a great deal of fun together. Hannah went to put in the leeks and said the turkey needed to rest for fifteen minutes.

“So now I can attend to your rudeness last night.” said Hannah. “You are going to get such a spanking.”

She had a few more things to attend to in the kitchen and I removed myself to the terrace. I realized that, while I was quite sure I had been right, that didn’t matter. Hannah disagreed. And her silence, which I had taken as an admission she had been wrong had meant nothing of the sort. What it meant was that I had made her very angry.

In a few minutes I found myself following Hannah upstairs. As I knelt on the hardwood floor in front of her Hannah proceeded to explain, chapter and verse, exactly how I had been rude. She certainly took her time and by the time she said “Now get into position.” I was almost looking forward to my whipping simply to relieve the pain in my knees. She buckled my wrists to my ankles very tightly indeed.

I could tell from the force of her first warm up hand spank that this was pure punishment. Just a short warm up and she set in with measured strokes of the heavier rattan cane. As I kneel, trussed up, I have no control over my punishment. Hannah and I do not have a “safe word” because we are not playing. She found her rhythm and her force after two or three strokes and I had a full dozen good, hard slashes. Two or three were hard enough to lift welts. I was sweating and my eyes were watering. I was, perhaps, half a dozen strokes from crying.

Then she was done. She unbuckled me in silence.

“Thank you Hannah.” I said as I lay catching my breath.

Her love and discipline are the greatest gifts I get every year and how perfect to be reminded so firmly on Christmas Day.

Our little poll below is interesting – as I write you have indicated that 50% of the people reading this blog are women. A surprise to both Hannah and I. Though, as we talked about it, it actually makes a lot of sense. We are always astonished at the number of Hannah’s friends whose relationships and marriages are characterized by a lack of respect and, well, manners. This, of course, leads to any manner of tension and, often, to the end of the relationship. These women are successful, intelligent and often very attractive – yet, somehow, Prince Charming has, in a matter of months or years, become a lout.

A man on a first date or in the early stages of courtship is never a lout. (Or, if he is, an elegant woman would not be silly enough to involve herself with him.) But, as a man relaxes the rot can set in. At a certain point it looks to become permanent and most women have a hard time figuring out what to do. So, in many cases they don’t do anything and simply put up with their situation. They do this because they can see no alternative.

As Hannah will point out there is an alternative: a woman can, and should, set expectations and take charge of ensuring that they are met. Now, Hannah usually stops well short of a full on description of all of the aspects of our female lead relationship. But she is perfectly comfortable pointing out that a wife can and should only pleasure her husband when she is actually in the mood. Mood, is, of course, partially cyclical but it is also a reflection of how a couple is getting along. No woman wants to make love to a lout. So she shouldn’t. If he is insistent a wife is perfectly within her rights to hand her husband a tissue and tell him to get on with it.

Simply taking charge of your husband’s sexual appetite is a huge step forward for a wife. But, as Hannah points out, you have to have full control and that means making sure your husband is drained regularly. Once he is used to only being allowed to ejaculate with your permission a wife can certainly extend the times between ejaculations. And, that begins to restore the balance in the marriage. Now the husband properly looks to the wife for approval knowing that her approval will improve his sex life and her disapproval will lead to a bit of a drought on that front.

It is surprising how well this simply bit of female assertion has worked for those of Hannah’s friends who have tried it.

Obviously this is only a small first step toward a female lead relationship; but for many couples that first step is all that is needed to reset the marriage.