submissive husband


whipped, submissive husband, dominant wife


“Put on your punishment panties and go and make coffee and unload the dishwasher. When you are done I want you to come back upstairs and ask for your punishment.” said Hannah stretching in bed. The good news was that she was well rested and smiling. I was pretty certain she was no longer angry with me. Now it was just going to be a matter of what she thought I deserved.

husband spanked, husband whipped


I hastened to obey. My punishment panties are, in fact a panti girdle with the back very much abbreviated. My “bottom lifter” fits very snug at the best of times and with my caged cock it took a little while to pull on. It does, however, protect my lower back and upper thighs a little which is a mercy. But that protection lets the Lady of the House use whatever force she thinks necessary. I finally got it on and scooted downstairs. Coffee, for some reason, did not take nearly as long to brew this morning.

I took Hannah’s coffee to her in a pretty little cup on a silver tray.

“Excellent.” said Hannah lifting the hot coffee to her pretty lips, “Now, I think you have something to say.”

Without being told I knelt at the side of her bed. “Darling, I was inexcusably rude to you yesterday evening. I humbly apologize. I promise it will not happen again.” I drew in my breath, “And to make sure I remember never to be rude to my darling wife I humbly ask that you whip me a long and as hard as you think is required.”

Hannah took another sip of her coffee and looked straight at me. “I accept your apology. But you are absolutely right. You need a proper whipping. And I have thought about that: The cane is all very well and you will certainly be taking your strokes; but I am afraid dear that I want you to go and get the bath brush first. And take your belt an lay it down. I will have to tie you for today’s session.”

I hate the bath brush. Hannah recently purchased a new bath brush and I had not yet felt the effect of its 16 inches or its relatively small head. I was pretty certain it would hurt…a lot.

“So, darling,” said Hannah as I got into position at the end of the bed and she wrapped the belt around my wrists binding them to my ankles and buckling the belt in one, smooth, motion, “I have not been as strict as I had intended to be this year and here is the result. My lovely man trussed like a chicken and needing a serious whipping. Which you are about to get.”

spanked husband, husband whipped, dominant wife

pain spreader

With that, and no warm up I felt the bath brush crack down on my left cheek and then, almost instantly, my right and then back again. Five a side and then Hannah stopped. “Well, this is certainly noisy. I am just going to close the window. The neighbours don’t need to hear your punishment.”

I tried to catch my breath and just as I managed to Hannah started in again. Not quite so quickly, but with the same, agonizing force. “And this certainly makes your bottom a pretty red quite quickly.”  I was twisting in my position. There was no escape and Hannah did not seem to be stopping.

“I know you hate the brush but, other than the noise, it is a lovely instrument. The cane always scares me a bit. It is too easy to break your skin which I don’t like to do accidentally. But I could do this for hours.” I heard her but now I was deep in that place where you have no choice but to meet the pain. Each blow sent a freshet of sensation through my bottom and deep into my brain. I was vocalizing with every stroke. I learned long ago not to fight the sensation but to try to embrace it. To understand that Hannah was punishing me because I deserved it and she loved me all the more for my submission.

The brush went on and on. “And fifty…” said Hannah putting down the brush where I would be able to see it as I was caned.

“Now, would you like to wait for the cane or do you want me to carry on?”

A nasty question. If I waited the pain would die back and I would have to walk back to the place where I could embrace my whipping. If Hannah carried on the pain would be just as intense but there would not be the recovery and relapse. “Please Miss, until you are satisfied.”

“Good choice, I was going to give you more if you took a break.”

I heard the cane swish through the air and expertly slash both cheeks. Where the brush had only hit one at a time, Hannah’s cane technique has improved to the point where each stroke lands with equal force on wither side. Before I really “felt” the first stroke she had landed five more and had switched sides. Her backhand strokes are a little less intense. Which at this point was a huge relief. Another half dozen and she returned to her forehand.

“Almost done darling. Just another dozen or so and then the crosses.” To say I was in agony is just the beginning of a description. I could feel my bottom throbbing and the bruising already was beginning. Hannah didn’t have to stroke hard at all to provoke my vocalizations. I was twisting in my belt but Hannah had pushed my knees far apart and I could not have flipped over for all the trying in the world. I was very close to tears.

“Crosses darling.” The worst. Hannah slashed three lines at forty five degrees to my cane lines. Where the cane met a welt I could feel a little blood blossom form. Three strokes forehand, then she switched to her back hand to reverse the angle.

“Done. You are very brave darling. But you needed every stroke of that. I am going to release you in a moment and I want you to go to your corner for a few minutes while you recover. No rubbing. Your skin is broken in a few places and I don’t want you to do any more damage. Now, what do you say?”

“Thank you for my whipping Miss…I love you.”

“Good boy…now go to your corner.” said Hannah handing me her very damp panties.


Early this morning someone clicked on a post here and created the one millionth page view. The Lady of the House and I would like to thank everyone who has followed our journey through the pleasures of a wife led marriage.

Thank you all and especially the people kind enough to comment. We have learned a lot from our comments and,from time to time, Hannah has been affirmed in her decisions as to how best to direct a very happy marriage. Pretty much universally our comments suggest that she be firm, strict and perhaps a little more dominant than she might otherwise have been. This has increased her confidence and, I fear, ensured my position is all the more submissive. A position I am honoured to be in.

Thank you all.

Church then Whipping

“Of course we’re going to Church,” said the Lady of the House six minutes before the service began in our wonderful little Church seven minutes from our front door. I’m afraid I said something a bit disrespectful as to Hannah’s lateness. As we walked at speed to Church she leaned over to me, “And when we get home we’ll take care of your snarky comment.”

Church passed quickly and we soon were walking home. Hannah had enjoyed the service and we had fun dissecting the sermon. And, truth to tell, I was pretty sure Hannah had forgotten all about my remark. I was wrong. As I took off her coat she said, “You can go up to your corner and wait for me. Don’t bother apologising. I really should have whipped you before we went to Church and you could have enjoyed a well welted bottom on the pew for an hour. But we’ll make up for that now.”

I did as I was told and about fifteen minutes later I heard Hannah coming up the stairs. “You can get into position.” was all she said.

I knelt on our bed. No warm up. Just strokes of the heavy rattan cane. First half a dozen medium and then, with only a second’s pause to adjust her position six full swings of the cane. I was grunting after two and I could feel the welts rising. The last two strokes crossed the first four as Hannah swung her cane on the diagonal.

“There.”she said standing back and admiring her work, “If I am running late it is none of your business. And those welts will remind you to speak respectfully. Now pull up your girdle and we can have coffee.”

I am very loved indeed.


According to Amazon there are now four men who are likely to be spending some or all of the holidays locked in cock cages. As Hannah wrote, having my cock in a cage is symbolic:I was chaste and my sexuality was under Hannah’s control long before she locked me up. The fact that as I write my cock is in its little black silicon prison and has been for several days is certainly symbolic but it also has quite practical effects.

In my cage it is impossible for my cock to get fully erect. It can, uncomfortably, get and stay semi-erect and the ball ring keeps it engorged. At the same time the soft silicone insulates my cock and means that it gets next to no stimulation.

The lack of stimulation does not, however, mean that I am unaware of my cock. If anything the cage increases my awareness of the practical absence of my cock. Other than the discomfort of my broken erections, unless Hannah releases me, I simply feel nothing between my legs. Where my little cock had been there is a soft, black apparatus and a shiny brass padlock.

Hannah had worried that locking up my cock would lead me to thinking too much about it. After a few days caged this has not been the case. What I focus on is Hannah and her pleasures and enjoyment. I know that once I have pushed my cock into its cage and handed Hannah my key she largely forgets that I have a cock or that she has the key. And she is, I think, training me to focus on other, more useful and attractive things.

A final point, a lot of the writing about being locked in chastity focuses on how the cage keeps men horney because they are not allowed to come. As a man who was allowed to come only a few times a year even before my cock was “put away” I didn’t think this would be an issue for me. I was wrong. The deadening physical effect of the cage has made Hannah’s pleasure and her occasional teasing all the more precious to me because it reminds me of my place and what I have given away to become a man in my position. Lying locked up between Hannah’s thighs licking her sweet Pussy with two fingers still in her cunt and one two knuckles up her back door I know that my whole focus is on her orgasm, on filling my mouth with her sweetness and obediently swallowing her luscious liquids. And because I know she has left my key downstairs on her desk I am in no doubt that whether the Lady of the House chosen to finish on my tongue or in the privacy having me standing naked in my corner affords her, the last thing on her mind is my little cock straining in its cage.

Soon four more men are going to enjoy the pleasure of giving their sexuality to the women they adore. They can look forward to a happy New Year.


“So you just keep standing there pushing my nice moist panties into your corner. I want to see how hard your little cock can get in its cage.”

I was, as I always am for my morning corner time, naked except for my cock cage. Hannah ran her hand over my bottom.

“We’ll have to give you a good whipping over the weekend. I think you look better with welts and it makes going to church a bit more fun to see you fidgeting in your girdle.”

She slipped her hand between my cheeks and I could feel first one and the two of her fingers slip into my backdoor while she began stroking my nipples with her other hand.

“And maybe I should get your rod for your little backdoor. Put it up you for cocktails so you are all nice and stretched if I want to peg you after your whipping. You’d like that wouldn’t you. At least your little cock seems to be getting very hard in your cage… We’ll, darling, I’m sure your exercises will take care of your cute little election and that little dribble of pre cum will rinse off in the shower. I’ll just go and wash my hands and set your timer. When you hear it ring you may leave your corner and get on with your day.”

With that I felt Hannah’s fingers slide out of my bottom and she gave my left nipples a pinch between the nails of her thumb and middle finger as she does when she wants me to come. But there was none of that this morning. Just the vicious pinch and then silence as I push no nose further into the cotton gusset of her panties and felt my hard cock broken by its cage.


“You do look cute, if a little cold standing in your corner with nothing on but your little black cock cage.” said Hannah sipping her tea in bed. “I’ve made you a little list of things I expect you to have accomplished by Christmas. Nothing too extreme… Just a dozen Kindle books and this year’s Christmas cards and a couple of other things. And I want you to lose another five pounds and tighten up your thighs, bottom and tummy. So you’ll be back in your girdle during the day and walking and some squats and bench steps before your shower and again after you get the dishes put away after dinner.”

“You’ll be putting your girdle on after your morning exercise and shower and it’s not coming off until after dinner.”

“I have to say I am really impressed with your little black cock cage. It keeps you completely out of the way and you can even shower in it. I’m hoping to get you a stiffer plastic cage or even a metal one when I want to remind you of your position, but for everyday, this little cage is perfect.”

“So, after I get up, rinse out those panties and the two bras I’ve left by the sink, then exercises, shower, girdle and get to work on your list.”

I heard Hannah get out of bed and head towards her ensuite. My day had begun and Advent was upon us.

Sunday Morning Pleasure then Cane

“I must say I do like having your little cock in its cage.” said Hannah stoking my nipples and making me harden without having anywhere to grow. “You can go down and plug the kettle in and then wait until it boils in your corner. Make my tea and then clean up the kitchen a bit while I enjoy it. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

I did as I was told and, a few minutes after bringing Hannah her tea I heard her call. When I reached our bedroom she was lying with her nightie hiked up over her hip. “Lick and slip a couple of fingers in me.”

I was thrilled to comply and, after a few minutes of delicious Pussy licking Hannah panted, “Go to your corner.”

I pressed my nose into the intoxicating scent of Hannah’s panties and listed as she went over her edge.

“I’d like some more tea now.” she said. “And as it is steeping we can cane the erection away and you can have some pretty welts for Church.”

Six, to be precise. Which made the pew nearly unbearable. I am back in my position.