The Paddle

By @Ted_Subby on FetLife, e-mail address nrjb2@yahoo.com.

Please check out all of my stories at www.assdisc.com.

Synopsis: A husband submits to his wife who takes control and implements domestic discipline punishments. Codes = F/m, domestic discipline, punishment, consensual.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.5/ or send a letter to:

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171 Second Street, Suite 300

San Francisco, California 94105

USA

Now was the moment of truth, that damn hard wooden paddle would connect with my bare behind and I would start to yell in pain again. Except this time it was for real. My wife was in charge this time and she wasn’t going to stop paddling me just because I yell.

Paddle is such a harmless sounding word. It seems like playing with a toy, it’s just a paddle. It sounds like waddle which is a sort of funny walk. Let me tell you, being paddled is not funny and it is not playing. And it’s not uncommon to walk funny afterwards, though I won’t be laughing.

As my wife prepared me by strapping down my wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed, she took her time. She had already looked into my eyes as I knelt in front of her in full agreement that I had neglected to perform my slave duties. I felt terrible already about forgetting to put the fork straight on the table next to her plate, forgetting to give that second kiss to her foot near the base of her leg, and making too much noise eating my dinner mush from the dog bowl on the floor and then trying to make excuses after each occurrence.

But it’s so hard because I am a human being and there are reasons. It is very difficult to be quiet eating from a dog dish on the floor without being able to use my hands. I can give reasons here because my wife has graciously allowed me to be open with my feelings in this journal.

Regardless, this 35 year old human being was about to be punished like a little boy with a paddle on the behind. Except that the force my wife would use is much greater than she would on a little boy.

During the time my wife took to strap down my body and prepare herself, I thought about how I got to this place. I was scared out of my mind of the agony I would soon experience and thinking back helped calm me somewhat.

When I was a kid my parents gave me chores such as washing the dishes after dinner and mowing the lawn. They never punished me if I messed up but I rarely messed up because it didn’t really occur to me to slack off on the job. I used to hear from my friends that they were punished sometimes, such as being paddled, having to standing in the corner, grounded from leaving the house or watching TV, mouth washed out with soap, and so on, and I wondered what they did so horrible to deserve that. They of course listed small and explainable infractions but I knew that I was hearing only their side of the story.

I don’t know why but at some point I became jealous. I didn’t want to have to suffer punishment but I felt that they were getting physical attention which I was missing. It wasn’t so much that love was missing, just a special focus of attention that I thought these other kids were getting. I didn’t realize this until much later but that is where my fascination with BDSM began, jealousy at not getting a special focus of physical attention. I loved my parents but in retrospect I wanted to be hugged and patted on the head, and I also missed ever having a close girlfriend in school. I guess I became somewhat attention starved.

So I began to read BDSM internet web sites and fantasized about being physically dominated by authoritative women. For several years it was all just fantasy until I met my wife where I worked at the time. She is a beautiful and wonderful woman, somewhat authoritative in her personality although she was not in into BDSM back then. I did not tell her about my fantasies because she was reality and I did not want to ruin the great relationship which was growing. I remember the buildup to when I proposed. Part of the thrill was the ability to literally get on my knees in front of her as I presented the ring. She even laughed a bit at me because guys typically get on one knee when proposing.

It wasn’t until a few years into our marriage that I confessed my BDSM submissive fantasies. I was forced into the confession as I had accidentally left a few BDSM web sites on my computer screen as I had walked away. My wife wasn’t home at the time and when she got home I was in the bathroom, and in the time it took me to finish, she had seen the sites. Busted.

My reverie was broken somewhat as the last straps were put in place over my thighs and back to keep me as immobile as reasonably possible. I could sense that my wife was savoring these moments of strapping me in, and she was drawing out the experience as much as possible. Maybe she was doing this to give me a chance to calm my emotions, or maybe she was enjoying my fear.

The discussion my wife and I had about my BDSM fantasies was very difficult. Not only was I forced to reveal my deep and difficult fantasies, but I also had to defend myself from my wife’s anger and disappointment at her husband for hiding these things from her for years. He hid an important part of his true self from the woman he loves forever and loves more than anything. I am ashamed that I did that and I should have been more up front with her early in our relationship. If she can’t love and accept me for who I am – all of me – what point is there in getting married? That is maybe a naïve viewpoint but it’s how I feel.

Other than the issue of hiding, my wife was very understanding of my desires and told me that she had no problem with my fantasizing and viewing BDSM web sites. I really did hit the jackpot when I met my wife.

Every now and then she would ask me whether I saw anything interesting on a BDSM web site. At first I was very hesitant to talk about it because I didn’t want to freak her out with any details, so our discussions were initially very brief.

But she remained patient and drew out of me what I enjoyed talking about and eventually I would go into details of some of the articles and stories I read and the videos I watched. I actually most enjoy the stories, rather than the videos or articles. Reading either true or fictional stories of BDSM is like a window into a wonderful fantasy world of spanking, bondage, and other female authoritative control.

And then the almost unthinkably wonderful happened. My wife told me that she had looked into BDSM a bit herself and wanted to try participating with me. Real BDSM with my amazing wife. It was a dream come true.

I had already been strapped in and waiting for the paddle but my wife was clearly hesitating for some reason. What is she doing that can take so long? Or it just seems like it is taking so long because of the dread I am feeling. I guess it gives me more time to remember our early days of BDSM, which were just a few months ago.

I said that it “was” a dream come true because the reality did not meet up to the dream.

My wife tried spanking me with her hand but I did not like the sting of that, and after several blows the pain was a bit too much for me. Or if she spanked me with less force, then it would feel too much like just goofing around and I didn’t like that either. She tried sitting on my back to immobilize me, which was somewhat fun and made me feel vulnerable, but again once the spanking became painful I didn’t like it. My wife tried using my leather belt on my behind but that was too painful right off the bat and I didn’t like that at all. And a wooden spoon and hairbrush had such small surface areas that the pain was too intense in one spot. A spatula seemed okay but I hated the feel of metal on my behind.

We resolved to purchase an “official” hard and somewhat wide wooden paddle because we figured it would have less of a stinging sensation and the pain would be spread out and not focused in too small of an area like the wooden spoon and hairbrush.

It seems strange even typing about trying out different implements, as if we were trying on pants or a shirt. I felt sort of like Goldilocks, but I didn’t mind because I just couldn’t handle the other implements but I didn’t want zero pain. My wife who was hesitant just weeks earlier was happy about the paddle and once she had it in her hand she was anxious and almost giddy to begin using it on me.

This paddle was to be the pathway for me to realize my fantasies. But it was a disaster.

As I would lie on the bed my wife barely tapped me a few times and I was fine with that but just slightly increasing the force made me feel too much pain. The paddle did spread out the force to a wider area than the other wooden implements we had used, and I didn’t get that awful feeling of metal on my skin, but the increased area just meant more overall pain. It not only had the same painful sting as the other implements but there was a thud type of pain as well. I simply couldn’t handle it.

I was emotionally very sad. For almost my entire life I had fantasized about being spanked and when the beautiful woman of my dreams fulfilled my fantasies, I hated it.

When we began experimenting with BDSM my wife asked me whether or not I wanted it in the bedroom only. Well, as I mentioned earlier my wife is somewhat naturally authoritative. She likes to be in charge and I could tell by the way she was asking that the outside of the bedroom BDSM seemed very appealing to her. Fortunately, it was appealing to me as well, especially since the pain play didn’t seem very enjoyable. I have never enjoyed doing chores or anything like that, but to have my wife take charge over me and to even try to fulfill my masochistic fantasies it was worth doing a few extra chores around the house and whatever else she wanted.

My wife started out slowly with her dominance outside of the bedroom. We both knew that this was a marathon and not a sprint.

My wife was ready to paddle me and had just started lightly rubbing the paddle on my behind when the phone rang. I was breathing hard in trying to contain my panic and I felt like it was a call from the governor pardoning me for my crimes. Honestly, I wished to get it over with and this further delay was just making me more nervous as my wife talked with her family member on the phone for a minute before abruptly ending the conversation.

I don’t know what my wife and her family member were talking about as my thoughts raced back to the time when I realized that I didn’t enjoy the pain of being spanked.

I had felt like a failure. The reality did not measure up to the fantasy. However, I could still cling to the part of the fantasy which did not involve pain, and that was to serve my wife outside of the bedroom. She clearly loved having me as her slave around the house and over the next couple of months she ramped up my level of servitude as I became her butler and cleaning person. It wasn’t a dream come true but it was fun.

During this time my emotions were sort of in limbo. I was happy being her slave but I missed out on the fun of spanking, even though I knew that I would not enjoy the reality. Over time I became less and less enthusiastic about obeying my wife and several times she caught me doing a less than stellar job with my chores. For example, there were clearly spots of dirt I was missing with the vacuum cleaner, with the sponge on the tile of our kitchen floor, and with the cloth on the window sills.

A couple of weeks ago my wife had a revelation while reading up about BDSM and husbands who obey their dominant wives. She showed me several domestic discipline spanking blogs and I expected to see stories of how fun it is to be spanked but she and I were both surprised by reading about a different dynamic altogether. On several of these sites the men who were submissive to their wives did not enjoy the spanking at all and only suffered because their wives would be disciplining them for failed tasks. In many cases spanking wasn’t at all fun for the submissive men.

This peaked our interest because why agree to be spanked if you didn’t enjoy it? So we looked further into these blogs and verified that unless the author of the blog was lying, spanking was used as tool to elicit obedience and not as a fun activity in itself, although many of the dominant women apparently did enjoy administering the spankings even if their husbands did not enjoy the experience.

Spanking is another word which doesn’t seem nearly as ominous as it is, similar to the word paddle. The word spanking seems like just patting an infant’s or child’s behind lightly. In reality spanking can be truly horrifying.

At this thought of mine of being truly horrified, my wife ended her phone call and strode back into the room so I rushed through my remembrance of how I became willingly strapped down and ready to accept a horrifying beating. Willingly is another interesting word in this situation.

My wife knew that the dynamic described in the blogs was the key to fixing our own BDSM dynamic. I would need to be held accountable for the gaps and flaws in my servitude, to make me a better slave, and that would also help me feel the BDSM dynamic much more vividly to be able to more or less match my fantasies, albeit without any aspect of enjoying the spanking itself.

In writing this I realize that I should reference my wife’s feelings about this as well. She was very apprehensive about hurting me but right from the start when we discussed her being in charge outside of the bedroom that concept of authority was very appealing for her. It wasn’t just from a chore standpoint or for her to be able to relax more, she also genuinely enjoys being in authority over me and she actively thinks of ways she can wield her authority without going too far by her estimation. We discuss our dynamic frequently and while I do not feel that there is such a thing as her going too far, we agree that sometimes my mouth writes a check that my butt can’t cash. So she ramps up my slavery slowly and I am good with that.

I should probably also reference our sex life because that seems to be integral for many who enjoy BDSM. For us, though, it is private and I do not plan on writing about it, other than to mention that my level of slavery is significantly increasing there, too, and we are both happy about that.

But what about the issue about my not being able to take much pain at all from spanking? Would my wife really want to spank me and cause me to feel pain when I inevitably mess up a task or chore? I say inevitably because I’m only human, not a robot, and humans make mistakes.

The first two times my wife spanked me as a punishment for messing up a task, I safe worded after just a couple of blows. I should explain that a BDSM submissive like myself often has a safe word in case the pain gets too much. I say yellow or red and the paddling stops. Predictably, those first two times were not effective punishment sessions at all.

Several days ago my wife told me that for the next punishment spanking I would not be allowed to safe word unless there was a legitimate injury or safety issue, and if I did safe word just due to pain then I would be punished for safe wording. My face went white when she told me this. How can I go through with a session of paddling with no safe word? It would be too painful! My wife’s answer to this was “You have no choice. You will accept your punishment because I say so.”

No choice. I was terrified … and also excited at the same time!

The reality is that I did have a choice and I do now have a choice. I could call off our BDSM dynamic at any time. Or I could talk with my wife about just continuing on as we were, with me as a probably decreasingly obedient slave. I know, though, that neither choice would be fulfilling and the only way I could feel fulfilled as a BDSM slave to my wife was to give her all of the authority she wanted. And she wanted a lot of authority, the authority to cause me intense pain from a hard wooden paddle.

So I chose to accede fully to her authority. I chose not to have a choice.

For these past several days I have loved not having a choice and the thought of being a slave who would be punished for transgressions. It definitely made me a more attentive and happy slave although, being human, I still make mistakes which I now have to note in my smartphone when my wife assigns me a demerit. We do not have a system in which demerits count for anything quantitative but my wife just wants me to list them for whenever she asks for a list. So far in these several days I made the three big mistakes I indicated earlier, hence I had to suffer a true punishment under her paddle.

I think I will remember vividly until the day I die the feeling of fear and horror I had when my wife pointed out to me the fork which was improperly diagonal next to her dinner plate. How could I make such a stupid mistake? My heart sank to the ground as I was on all fours waiting to be allowed to eat my dinner. I admit that my thought was not as much focused on her dinner pleasure being reduced, though that was a factor, but the fear of later having to suffer a true punishment paddling. Needless to say, I didn’t enjoy dinner that night and ended up with more of it on my face than usual.

Did I mention that my wife was slowly increasing my slavery over time? I guess slowly is in the eye of the beholder. It isn’t really that bad having to eat mushy dinner from a dog dish on the floor without my hands. I think I am starting to get used to it. I have found several recipes with mashed potatoes, peas, ground meat, and other ingredients to make into a mush for my dinner as my wife dines on the meals I create for her.

I guess I am procrastinating in this journal. I was truly beaten this first time and I did not take it well, but I will own up to the truth and recount the experience now. At least I can take pride that my wife loves my honesty and how I never lie.

As my wife returned to me from her phone call and started caressing my butt with the paddle again, she reminded me why I was going to have to suffer. “You made 3 mistakes tonight. That’s ridiculous. You need to concentrate much better. I’ve told you very clearly what I want. Tell me what you did wrong.”

I didn’t want to talk anymore and I just wished this nightmare was over. I did have some hope that my wife would be somewhat gentle knowing how sensitive I am to pain, so I put as much contrition in my voice as I could. “I am so sorry, Sweetie, I am very sorry that I did not set your fork straight and that I was so noisy when I was eating. I am very very sorry after dinner for only giving one kiss to your toes and forgetting to kiss the top of your foot. I am sorry.” I was almost crying at this point because my contrition and fear were real. My wife said “You brought this on yourself.”

Whack. My butt immediately hurt but it wasn’t a hard blow, although I did groan.

Whack! Oh my gosh, that was a hard blow! I yelled in pain. No, there is no way I can take this! I tried squirming but I couldn’t move because I was strapped firmly to the bed.

Whack! I yelled loud in pain. Shit I have to get away now! Let me go I can’t take this! I have to safe word now, but I’m not allowed to! Luckily I didn’t talk out loud because I don’t think my wife would appreciate my unwillingness to take any more of this punishment.

Whack!! I screamed uncontrollably. This was by far the worst pain I had ever felt. How can it feel so horrible when it’s just a spanking?

My loud screaming seemed to sort of pop a balloon. There was no more introspection, no more thoughts of fear or horror, no more thoughts of anything except pain and contrition. I couldn’t move and the only authority I had over anything at all was to be a better slave going forward to avoid having to suffer this again.

Whack!! The pain was too much for me to even yell or scream. I felt like I was in shock.

Whack!! I even stopped struggling. I was all out of energy and will. I felt like I was buried under an avalanche and only if I was contrite enough my wife would save me but until then I would need to just suffer.

Apparently, I was contrite enough! My wife laid the paddle down and began to unfasten the straps. I was so happy! She could feel how sorry I was and how I would not make those mistakes again, or any mistakes ever again. I was a bit delirious in my glee at making it through my first true punishment paddling. My wife told me not to rub my butt to ease the pain and once I was no longer restrained I almost jumped off the bed in joy to obey her order for me to stand in the corner of the room and face the wall without moving an inch, while my wife went into the other room.

As I stood there my rush of happiness quickly faded and I remembered how horribly painful it was to be whacked so hard. The pain was still somewhat strong and I would do just about anything to be allowed to rub the pain away but I focused on the reason for the spanking and vowed to myself to be more attentive and obedient.

After close to 10 minutes of standing in the corner a feeling of calm sort of washed over me. I had been so tense in the time before the spanking and the spanking itself was so traumatic, that afterwards once the pain had mostly receded the stillness and calm felt wonderful. There was another source to the calm, though. I felt guilt about failing my wife in 3 different ways tonight and there was a sense that I had now paid my debt of guilt. The slate was washed clean and I could be a good slave again as I want to be.

While still standing in the corner I thought further on this. Did I enjoy the spanking? After all, it was only six swats and I imagine that others who are into BDSM take a bazillion more swats than that. One spanking video I saw lasted 20 minutes and now I really have an appreciation for how difficult that must have been to take. Not difficult for me, it would be impossible. My butt still felt a bit of sting to it and I knew that the answer was no I did not enjoy the spanking. Not one bit. But I guess I can say that I enjoy the calm after the spanking, and as I thought about it further I guess I can say that I enjoy the obedience I feel due to the spanking.

My wife returned to the room after about 20 minutes. I remained completely still as commanded, until she said “Okay, turn around, it’s time for more.” When I turned around I saw that she had the paddle in her hand!

After a brief moment of shock I fell to the floor on my knees and clasped my hands together, begging for mercy. My wife had the most sadistic look I had ever seen on her face and it scared the hell out of me. She let me grovel and plead for a half minute or so before she said “Oh, get up you big baby, I’m not going to hit you any more, or at least not until the next time you misbehave.”

I was relieved and crawled to kiss her bare feet over and over, saying thank you after each kiss. I’ve learned not to mind kissing her feet because I know that she likes it and I know the consequences for not doing what she wants, as well as the rewards for obedience and servitude.

I love what I just typed. I am rewarded for obedience and servitude, and I am punished for disobedience and inattentiveness. I love that! Sweetie, spank me as much as you want to so I can continue to feel this way, very slavish to you. I should be careful not to type what my butt can’t really handle, but the emotion I felt while kissing her feet after the punishment was pure elation.

What did I mean when I typed just now about rewards? I realize now that’s a misnomer. It implies that by being obedient and attentive, my wife gives me some sort of reward such as a treat. I’m not a dog. Being obedient is its own reward. That seems trite and maybe even fake but it’s the truth for me. I get a great sense of fulfillment at being obedient and attentive to my wife.

Then why would I need to be spanked? I don’t know but I mean to change that. From now on, just a couple of hours after my first ever true punishment spanking, I will resolve to be a much better slave.

After my wife had enough of me kissing her feet, she went into the living room and told me to follow. I don’t know if she meant for me to stand up but I stayed down on the ground and crawled on my hands and knees, which I learned hurts my knees more than I would have expected. But at least I didn’t have to get down to be on the floor as I am whenever she wants to have a talk with me, such as at this time.

My wife praised me for being a good boy and taking the spanking which she knew was very tough for me. I guess I was wrong earlier, my reward for being obedient is praise from my wife and I admit that I crave her praise. More than crave, I need her praise. What if she turns into one of those porno dominatrix women who are all cold and aloof without ever offering praise? I need to talk with her about that. I couldn’t handle that sort of dominance.

My wife went on to say that she really enjoyed giving me a spanking, especially after a few swats when my body completely relaxed. That was sort of an ultimate sign of submission to her, that instead of trying to fight or withstand the pain I let my body go limp to simply completely accept what my wife was doing to me. I could have let it stand like that but I let her know the truth which was that I was in so much pain that I was paralyzed by it, and that is why my body went limp. My wife told me that in her view it’s sort of the same thing to her, beaten into submission, and as long as I submit then she is happy. I sincerely vowed to submit to the best of my ability.

She then asked me if I liked the spanking. As usual, I didn’t want to bore her with all of my inner contradictory thoughts but at the same time I was fearful that if I withheld anything I could be punished so I spilled the beans about how I hated it but love the feelings of slavery I get from it. I didn’t really think about it much at the time but now I am realizing how much I fear my wife.

I am terrified of my wife. At any moment she can decide to put me in agony, yelling and screaming in pain. She enjoyed hurting me, she said it and I knew it was true because I could see the look in her face and the tone of her voice. If I think calmly about it, what she enjoyed about hurting me is that it will help accomplish making me more of her slave, the slave we both want me to be. So our thoughts around the pain are the same, she gives and I take because we want me to be as much her slave as possible.

If I don’t think calmly about it, like right now, I worry that my wife will enjoy hurting me for no reason. Will I have to suffer just because of her whims? I know that I can call this whole BDSM thing off to stop the suffering altogether but that’s the last thing I would want because BDSM is my fantasy. I’m confused.

I had to stop writing there for a several minutes. My wife had me go into her room and on the floor to massage her feet while she told me that she wants to give me maintenance spankings every other day. My initial reaction was a concern that she enjoys hurting me and now I’m going to have to suffer at her whim but she explained that maintenance spankings are a common practice in domestic discipline households and they help re-enforce the dynamic and feelings of slavery in the submissive man.

When I was dismissed I dutifully kissed each of her feet and returned to my room to run an internet search for maintenance spankings and sure enough she was right. I don’t mean that I doubted her at all, of course not, just that I wanted to find out more information. I thought about pointing out to her that maintenance spankings are not used by all domestic discipline couples or that many of them do it once a week or less, not once every other day, but I never came close to wanting to tell her that. I imagine that I’d be screaming my lungs out in pain if she had to listen to that level of impudence from me.

Could I handle being spanked every other night? Suck it up buttercup. I have no choice.

Oh I know, this is a fully consensual BDSM relationship, right? Yes, I agree to it. But it’s not like I could just say “No, I don’t want to be spanked tonight” or “No” to anything. If I say no to anything that would harm or ruin our dynamic and then I could go back to just being a plain old vanilla husband. To that I say no!! Please don’t make me vanilla again! So do I consent to being spanked until my lungs give out from the screaming? Yes!

Damn, I sure hope it doesn’t get that bad, though, I can’t handle much more pain than the 6 swats I went through. Damn damn damn, there I go again, “I can’t handle” needs to be stricken from my vocabulary. How should I express myself though? “It would be very difficult for me to suffer” I guess is the right way to state it. I can even say “It was difficult for me to remember to set my wife’s fork straight” so maybe this slavery of mine is just difficult and that’s the word I should use for it.

Time for bed.

[Day 2]

Last night I wrote about how slavery was difficult and when I mentioned that to my wife after she graciously allowed me in bed again and after I begged on my knees as per the nightly ritual she recently enacted, she laughed and said “Slavery difficult, ha! You have it easy. All you have to do is obey.”

I replied “Yes, Sweetie, thank you for commanding me so clearly, but I really meant the suffering because I can’t … I mean I have difficulty with the pain.”

She laughed louder this time and said “Suffering, you have no idea of suffering. You should see what some BDSM slaves have to suffer. Maybe I should show you some pictures of their suffering, hmmm?” Her response may seem insensitive but I was not expressing a deep issue or a problem, it was a very light discussion and she was sort of joking or teasing.

I knew about the pictures she referred to. I used to love seeing the pictures of guys’ red and purple behinds after a good thrashing. Damn she’s right, I suffered only 6 swats and that was more than enough for me to scream. That didn’t even begin to leave bruises or any marks at all, and if I had to suffer enough for bruises, well I guess I can only say that it would be extremely difficult for me!

Despite the light tone of our discussion, my wife scared me last night in bed with that talk. I told her that I agreed with her that I have it easy and I thanked her from the bottom of my heart. Now that I am typing this, though, I am scared.

Actually, I guess fear is going to be a pretty constant part of my life now, or at least it was today. I truly don’t want to screw up because I know the consequences. This morning before we left for our separate jobs I was a bit too attentive because she snapped at me to get out of the way as she walked. She wasn’t angry, and we have never really experienced much anger in our marriage, but I could tell that I wasn’t at the top of her happy list at that moment. When I cowered away she patted my head and said it was okay but I still felt as though I had failed her in some way, even though I did not fear punishment from the minor incident.

I guess I am feeling more than just fear, it’s also a desire to please her even if punishment is not threatened. All of this from a spanking? No, all of this is from inside of me from a couple of decades of fantasizing. I feel as though my wife is dragging the real me out into the light, the slave who loves to be obedient, attentive, and fearful. I feel wonderful about it and as I sit here during a break at work I hope that I can live up to her expectations and desires.

I have read sometimes that guys who express their submissive desires to their wife often still end up conducting the train while the wife sort of stays on for the ride. To my delight, though, my wife seems to have grabbed me by the hair and dragged me out of the conductor’s chair, past the comfortable first class seats, past the benches for regular passengers, and into a small prison in the caboose.

[Day 2 in the evening]

I started this journal so I could express and think about my feelings but I am not feeling so great tonight. I didn’t receive a spanking so I am glad for that but I did have to … well, let me first explain what I did wrong. I am going to preface it by saying that I had a very busy day at work, though I managed not to say that to my wife since it would have been viewed as an excuse. I am required to kiss my wife’s feet, twice on each foot as I mentioned earlier, whenever I get home from work or when she gets home if I get home first. I won’t ever forget to do that, I’m not that stupid, but afterwards I am supposed to wait on my hands and knees on the floor by the front door until she tells me that I can get up. And like the idiot I am, today I started rising up before she gave the go-ahead. As soon as she made a verbal sound indicating my mistake as I was halfway standing up, I felt a pang of regret throughout my body and as I dropped back on the floor I knew it was too late. And as a reaction I let the word “Fuck” out of my mouth, even though I know I am not allowed to use any swear words ever, except in this journal.

I don’t like writing about this. I feel very humiliated to be a slave who can’t even go 30 seconds without disobeying not only one rule but two. But I am going to write about it so that maybe I can improve.

My wife pulled me to my feet by my ear and dragged me through our bedroom and into her bathroom where she pulled me by my ear down to my knees. She grabbed my hair to lift my face upwards so that she could look at me as she lectured me about what I did wrong and how I need to greatly improve. I felt so awful that I wanted to cry, and that was even before whatever punishment she had in mind.

Well, the punishment was worse than the lecture or the disappointment I felt. She unwrapped a new bar of soap which she said she had purchased recently just for this purpose, and told me that I need the taste of soap in my mouth to remind me never to swear again.

I had never had my mouth washed out with soap as a kid and I admit that from a fantasy standpoint it seemed like a sort of fun dynamic.

It wasn’t fun, it was horrible. There was nothing fun about it and I literally sobbed and cried tears almost the entire time. It wasn’t like the taste of food I don’t like. It was like a horrible … ugh I can’t even describe it. My wife was careful that I didn’t swallow much of it at all so that my stomach didn’t become upset but I almost wanted to throw up just to get that awful taste out of my mouth. My wife let me eat several grapes and gargle mouthwash afterwards, though she said that next time I won’t be so lucky.

There will be no next time. I can’t go through that again, it was awful. Strike that, I really feel like I can’t go through that but I have to instead say “It would be very difficult.” Damn this is hard. I hate this but I can’t give it up.

I was still upset earlier when I said I hate this. I did hate it but I guess I also love it. My wife owns me and I truly did a couple of very disobedient things and deserved what I had to suffer through. I really need to stop making those mistakes, though. I made it through this evening without any more mistakes and I know I can do it for a long time.

Even without any more mistakes, this was a tough but at the same time exciting evening. No matter what my wife and I were doing, such as when we were watching TV together as I sat on the floor rubbing her feet or even when we are doing separate activities, a good chunk of my focus was on her and what she might want at the moment. It was almost difficult to concentrate on what I was doing or following the TV show, because at least almost half of my attention was focused on my wife. It actually felt like she was a tiger and could erupt in violence at any moment.

But of course she is not a tiger and she is not violent. My wife is the same loving and kind woman she has always been and while the fear I feel is understandable, it probably isn’t justified because as long as I do what I am supposed to do she will not hurt me. Maybe that’s what I fear, that she may enjoy hurting me and decide to just hurt me for no reason. That’s ironic, though, because that is what I thought I had wanted to begin with. I don’t want her to hurt me at all so I’ll focus on being the best slave I can be and if she decides to hurt me for no reason, then … well, I don’t know what.

The bottom line for me, though, is that I loved this evening, once I got most of the taste of soap out of my mouth. And my wife enjoyed it, too, as she commented how much she appreciated my increased attentiveness. She didn’t say the exact words but I loved that I was a good boy!

[Day 3 in the evening]

She said it tonight when she got home from work. She said “Good boy”! I guess it was her turn to have a tough day at work because I could practically see the tension slowly dissipate from her body as I kissed her feet when she got home and I massaged her shoulders while she smelled the dinner which I had prepared and which was warming in the oven. I absolutely love basking in the feeling of joy I felt emanating from her body and her heart. What on earth took me so long to give my slavery to my wife?

We had a great rest of the evening, too, despite the maintenance spanking a few hours ago. I waited until I was in a better frame of mind to write about that. As my wife was strapping me down to the bed I sincerely thanked her for restraining me and not risking danger in allowing me to thrash around because that could cause a swat to go awry and injure me. I had a much better mindset going into this spanking than the previous one, because tonight’s was not a punishment and because I was feeling more comfortable in being her slave.

But then the spanking began. Unlike last time, she gave me maybe a dozen very light swats to warm me up, as she described it, but once she put more force into her blows the pain became what I would have called unbearable but now I just say is difficult for me to take.

It was very difficult. A few times between blows my wife commented about how I need to focus on obedience and attentiveness, and that helped because it reminded me why I was having to suffer the pain. It didn’t stop me from yelling in pain after each blow, though I managed to not scream at the top of my lungs. And again to my chagrin I felt like the spanking was quite severe even though it was only 6 swats. And if anyone into domestic discipline is reading this, please don’t laugh at the low number of swats I can endure. It really isn’t funny and I feel some shame about it.

But now that it is bedtime I’m all better now and very focused as my wife wants me to be.

[Day 4]

I guess this is going to be a wild ride. My wife is on the fast lane and told me tonight that she has been researching many different aspects of BDSM and reading books and web sites about it ever since a few weeks ago, much more than she had already told me that she was reading about it. It was almost an obsession how she just loved the idea of letting loose her own inner fantasies and desires, with me helping her satisfy her every whims. I say “helping” because I found out tonight that she has some quite wild fantasies and desires.

This discussion fascinated me. Here I had been hiding my own fantasies due to worry that I would alienate my wife, and lately she was apparently hiding her own fantasies from me. She tells me that hide is too strong of a word because she didn’t really think of her fantasies as anything she would ever want to try, but now that I am her slave she would like to see how it goes with her fantasies.

Before she went into any detail, though, my wife wanted to make sure that I was on board with this. She said that while she could force me to obey, she preferred me to be okay with this.

After some surprise about the situation, I told my wife that I am ecstatic to fulfill her fantasies and I would do anything to help. Also, just this fact alone would feed my own desire to be as much of her slave as possible. To be able to draw out the innermost fantasies of the one you love and to be able to fulfill her passions? Count me in! So I gave her my hearty thumbs up that she may command me any way she sees fit.

That was before I found out the details of what she wanted. I am not stupid and I knew full well that what she could fantasize about could be very painful for me and I had already worked through in my mind that I would be willing to take anything she wanted, as long as I had her love to help me through. But never in my wildest imagination had I considered that she wanted anyone else to join our relationship.

Male Chastity. Public humiliation! Cuckolding!! Branding!!! Forced Bi!!!!

There was more on her naughty list but I don’t even remember them all, the conversation tonight after this point was a blur. My wife commanded me to shut my mouth when I wasn’t talking, because my mouth was hanging open in surprise or shock. Fortunately, she wasn’t hurt at all by my reaction because she expected it.

How on earth could my wife suddenly spring all of this on me?! Surely she didn’t just develop an interest in all of these things in a couple of weeks, or even in the several weeks since I revealed my submissive BDSM desires. I will have to talk with her about it but she must have been fantasizing or at least thinking about many of these things before. But branding?!! Cuckolding??!! Yes, we definitely need to talk.

After writing that we need to talk, I crawled into my wife’s room and we did talk. Of course she had been reading about many of these different activities for years, though really only as fun reading and not as something she wanted to pursue. When I revealed my submissive desires, though, a light bulb went off in her head and she connected two and two. Why not give me the dominance I crave from her and fulfill or at least try out some or many of her deepest fantasies? For her it is a win-win.

For me? I’m not sure yet. I told her that I would need to jot down a list of each activity and get back to her. There was an undercurrent of a strange dynamic in the conversation. We both were aware in the background of our discussion that if I were to reject any of her ideas or desires, that would not fit into the dynamic of her ownership of me. There was no ultimatum because she told me that she wanted me to be on board with this, but the impression I received from both her and from myself is that if I said no to any of the activities, then that would harm or maybe even significantly harm our entire BDSM dynamic. A slave does not say no and if I did say no then that could shatter the feelings of slavery. Consequently, at the end of the discussion when I said “I will think about each of these” she said “You do that” with a somewhat condescending tone of voice, as if we both know the results of my deliberations. Again, she wasn’t being mean and it was just a sort of teasing jab, sharing that we both know the results.

I do not know the results, though. I need to think about these. First, though, I thought about the strange dynamic of the conversation and I have decided that I do need to be free to state my opinions about each activity and then leave it up to her to make a decision about it. She doesn’t want me to hide my feelings. However, even that is very scary because it denies me the freedom to avoid any of the activities, I can only present my opinions. What if there is something I really can’t handle? But there I go again, “can’t handle” just should not exist in my vocabulary unless I would be injured. Hmmm, maybe I would be injured. Just off the top of my head, I am thinking that cuckolding seems to have potential to injure or ruin a marriage.

At first I felt somewhat hurt that she felt she couldn’t discuss these things earlier in our marriage, even if she didn’t have a real desire for it and they were only idle fantasies in her mind, but then I quickly realized that the shoe was on the other foot because that is exactly what I did to her in hiding my BDSM desires for several years. It’s not a good feeling when your spouse does not feel comfortable enough with you to reveal inner fantasies.

Ok, so for each activity she wants, I will list it as yes no problem, ok I will go along with it, I do not want it at all but I obey, or this will probably cause injury and is a no go. Did she really think it was a good idea to spring all of this on me at once? Come to think of it, though, it’s better that she didn’t manipulate me into these things, blindsiding me with what she wanted and not giving me any real room to understand my own thoughts on it first.

I need to sleep on this. I was a good boy tonight and didn’t earn any punishments, even after the shock of our conversation, so at least I am feeling good about that. I also feel good about the conversation so maybe I just need to get over that hump of fear or terror in trying to accept each of those activities, or at least tolerate them. It’s a list of horrors, though. I need sleep!

[Day 5]

I took my maintenance spanking better tonight than I had previously. It hurt and I yelled but I guess I was in a better frame of mind. Even ramping up to 8 hard swats on my behind seemed like small potatoes compared to all of the other activities she told me she wanted. And despite my mental distractions in thinking about those extreme activities on her list, this morning and tonight I managed to be a good boy to follow all of her rules and obey her directions.

Also, I felt more submissive tonight after having reconciled one part of my brain to full acceptance of all of my wife’s desires. I loved that one part of my brain because it led me to the bliss of submission and to the bliss of my wife. But I knew that I needed the rest of my brain to work out each individual activity, something I had been avoiding until now. I’m going to set this journal aside and just think.

I’ve made a decision which has surprised myself.

My wife has bared her soul to me, so to speak, in the same way that I bared my soul to her several weeks ago. I want to reward that and also just speaking as a husband I want to see her innermost dreams fulfilled to the fullest. It almost makes my body tingle thinking how I could be the instrument for her to achieve her innermost kinky fantasies. And on top of that I very much want to be her completely obedient slave. This is my innermost kinky fantasy.

So it really is a win-win for both of us.

The decision I made is to not even think of each of those activities in any sort of detail and just say yes I would love to be your slave in any way you want.

This is the scariest thing I have ever done. I can’t help but have images pop up into my head of … I don’t even want to type it. It’s horrible. I won’t hide my emotions from myself but I don’t need to dwell on them.

What about injury? I did think of that topic regarding cuckolding and I do need to talk with my wife about making sure she doesn’t leave me for another man, but despite her desire to apparently have sex with another man …. Did I just type that? I can’t hide my feelings, cuckolding is extremely scary to me. It’s unfathomable. What on earth is up with her on that?!

My wife explained to me that she enjoys the idea of cuckolding but agrees that care should be taken with it. I think it will probably be lower on her list of activities than some of the others. Also, she assured me that she does not want to leave me or have sex without me present. I guess I am glad about that, although the thought of being present while my wife has sex with another man is really unfathomable in itself. But okay, she is not going to leave me or anything like that, she still loves me completely and until death do us part.

I guess we will have to cross that bridge if and when we get to cuckolding. In the meantime there are plenty of other potentially horrifying activities. The only other thing I communicated to her just now is my view that care should be taken to learn how to do all of these different things without causing injury and she told me that she was way ahead of me on that. My wife told me that she wouldn’t dare harm a hair on my head without doing her usual high level of research first. I didn’t take her comment about my hair literally, but now I’m thinking that I probably should because if she wanted me to be bald or even shaved everywhere, then the hair would go. I shudder to think of that but I’m tilting at windmills because I think she likes my hair.

My moment of truth was nearly at hand, though. I want to let my wife know tonight before bed that I accept her terms of surrender completely and unconditionally, just as she expects me to.

[Day 6]

I couldn’t do it last night but I will tonight.

I accidentally dropped a spoon in her lap during dinner just after I served her soup. Fortunately the spoon was dry and I did not hit the soup bowl, and I managed not to say anything out of frustration as it occurred, but after dinner I did have to suffer a punishment of lying on my stomach on the carpet as she put her feet on my back while she read a book. It is difficult to just lie there for an hour doing literally nothing but honestly I was thankful not to have to suffer a spanking or any other physical pain. It could have been much worse.

Speaking of much worse, I guess it’s time for me to face the music and surrender to her extreme whims. Is it just me or does this feel like a train going way past the last station on the line? And here I am imprisoned in the caboose.

I did it. And just that alone was a roller coaster. I am really not someone who cries much at all. I don’t know why I feel the need to convince anyone of that but it happens to be the truth. But kneeling at my wife’s feet and telling her that I accept absolutely whatever she wants just brought up the feelings of fear and vulnerability to the surface.

I felt like I was being manipulative, as in a sort of “You can’t hurt a guy who is crying” way, so that she would relent or at least reduce some of her extreme fantasies. I wasn’t doing that on purpose but I worried that is how it appeared, and I really didn’t want it to appear that way.

So when my wife clearly didn’t break down like a wallflower and coddle me with over-kindness due to my crying, I was glad. But she didn’t have to take it the whole other way like she did.

Once I blubbered out into my wife’s knees as I knelt in front of her that I accept absolutely whatever she wants, she grabbed my hair and pulled my face up to look into her eyes. She said “Damn right you will” and spit into my face. She spit into my face. Twice.

Is this a nightmare or a dream? I don’t think I would be able to decide that at this point. It’s neither, though. This is reality.

I guess what saves this from being a nightmare is that my wife was not angry at all or vicious, cold, uncaring, or any of those other types of emotions I used to watch sometimes in videos. She was very happy about it. She smiled as she talked into my face and smiled wide right after spitting into my face.

So at least I get the pure joy of making my wife truly happy. That alone makes all of the difference in the world to me. I guess you can say I need that. Hopefully that will help me through how tough I know this is going to be.

I needed a break there due to crying like a baby again and I took an aspirin for my headache. I told myself to always remain honest in this journal and with my wife, because otherwise I am nothing. This hurts but I admit to also be excited deep down by this. My wife owns me, I mean really owns me. This is not play or some temporary fantasy fulfillment. I’m in it up to my chin.

[Day 43]

I didn’t want to post anything which didn’t tell the entire story but I decided that I’ve had my tail between my legs long enough.

My wife and I have compromised. I get to be an adoring slave who does literally everything my wife says, my wife and I both get that she may spank me with that freakin’ paddle for every little transgression on top of weekly maintenance spankings, and my wife gets a chaste husband who is under her full authority in everything. I guess all of that is wrapped up into the same thing because they are all just ways in which my wife has full authority over me.

So what happened to all of that other horrible stuff? My wife thankfully decided that a stressed out slave does not serve her well, and she removed most of them. That also allowed me to maintain a slight bit of dignity that I did not have to cry uncle by calling off the entire dynamic. I don’t feel dignified, though, and I’m not even talking about the French maid outfit, women’s makeup, and high heels I am sometimes required to wear. I simply couldn’t handle all of those other activities, and yes I mean “couldn’t” even though it was technically my wife who stopped the train wreck. It was more than very difficult, it was unbearable.

But it’s okay. Dignity is rather over-rated anyway and my wife assures me that she loves me just as much with or without those activities. She even expressed gratitude that I allowed her to experiment on me, so that helped.

I guess I should mention about public humiliation because there was no physical pain involved with that and once everything was said and done, it was a bit laughable. Transgender is become more and more acceptable in society now so when I was required to walk a few sidewalks at night with my wife watching from her car just in case something happened to me, it was very humiliating at the time but no harm was done in the long run. I could even have made $20 if I had said yes to one guy.

I thought I might get a laugh from remembering that but I guess the memory is too recent. I won’t talk about the other stuff she put me through, or maybe later.

The branding completely freaked me out, though, and I’m still up to my ears in fear from it because I know that she might change her mind about it and go through with it. She did the whole trick with the blindfold and restraining me, preparing everything for the branding, and sizzling some meat on a grill just as she pushed the ice cold brand against my butt. It was absolutely hilarious … for her. For me it was about the worst hell I could imagine and she even had to gag me and tighten the restraints further before going through with it because I was freaking out. I remember the moment when I realized it was a joke but filed that away for a moment and continued to scream uncontrollably into the gag. Not my best moment.

And forced bi was scary, too, but in a slow building way as she had me practice sucking a few different realistic dildos including one which grew and then spurt out yogurt. My wife would blindfold me every night for several nights, having me practice sucking while she painted a verbal picture of it being a guy. That’s thankfully as far as it got but I was practically shaking in fear and felt like I had a pit in my stomach at times just thinking about it.

Does this all sound like a nightmare to you? It was and it wasn’t. All of this and what I will not be describing during that time was every bit as horrifying as I am making it out to be. But at the same time there was another feeling which was almost as strong. I can only describe it as a feeling of submission, that not only am I committed to suffering horribly but that it is not a hollow commitment because I will be made to suffer. It’s one thing to be commanded but it’s another to be commanded to do horrible things. Who else would suffer all of that? Other than guys who are into all of that, which does not include me by any stretch of the imagination, maybe no-one so that gave me a feeling of uniqueness and I guess pride. That’s why when most of this extreme stuff was called off by my wife, I felt like a failure and I am still recovering from that.

Speaking of the here and now, I am very happy with our domestic discipline lifestyle. I guess I am not like most others who get spanked, because I don’t enjoy it, but I love the dynamic of having punishment hang over my head every moment of the day so that I can maintain focus on complete obedience to my wife’s desires.

Maybe not complete fulfillment, but at least it’s complete obedience, and my wife and I are good with that.

[day 44]

Yesterday I wrote about “complete obedience” but that’s a joke, or a wish. Now that my wife and I are getting settled in, I would have hoped that I would be more obedient by now but I continue to have problems with attention to detail and tonight at the restaurant I even went too far in explaining why I wanted a particular dinner. My wife said that I argued and my tone of voice became somewhat whiny. And then I rolled my eyes. I’m deeply ashamed that I rolled my eyes but I can’t do anything about it now other than continue to apologize to my wife.

When I was told a week ago that maintenance spankings would be once a week instead of every other day, I was glad, but now I am wondering what will happen to that.

I’m terrified. My wife told me that I would be getting a punishment later tonight and while I already knew that, I can tell from the look in her eyes that it is going to be a bad one. Why does pain have to be part of domestic discipline? It was difficult but I did find on the internet some couples who use other forms of punishment instead. Fat chance of that for me. My wife just loves paddling my butt and even on the times she consoles me, such as after a maintenance spanking, I can tell that she just absolutely loves for me to be in pain she gives.

I was about to type asking myself if I even want a domestic discipline (DD) dynamic but gosh yes I do. I need it. I know that need is a strong word, and I don’t need DD like I need to breathe, but loss of DD scares me even more than my upcoming punishment tonight. That thought helps me. I will accept the punishment. And I will sincerely thank her for punishing me. I am shaking in fear just typing this.

Sometimes I look at my wife and wonder how I would feel if our positions were reversed. What if I was her Master? Wouldn’t most everyone love to have a slave literally doing whatever I wished and who I can humiliate and torment anytime I wanted? It’s tempting, especially now considering what I’m about to go through. But just two seconds after a thought like that enters my brain, another stronger thought overrides it and that is my need to be dominated. I don’t want to dominate and I don’t want equality, I want and need to be under my wife’s full authority.

Damn, I’m now holding back tears from the fear.

[day 50]

Well, that was not fun. Sometimes I get worked up with anticipation or tension about something and then it is no big deal and I feel foolish. I don’t feel foolish this time.

I have been feeling two somewhat intense things the past few days. One is an ache in my butt. The bruises were not just for show and it was difficult to sit down for a couple of days, and even for another couple of days after that it hurt somewhat. I think it’s okay now.

The second thing I have been feeling is shame. I feel shame that I rolled my eyes last week. Even vanilla husbands don’t usually do that. It’s unconscionable. I also feel shame that after only 12 swats I feel as though I was traumatized. I am fine now, or maybe appropriately disciplined is a better term to describe how I feel now, but I was completely blubbering and sobbing not only through the second half of my beating but also during much of my half hour of corner time. And for the next few days I felt like I could barely breathe in terror of my wife.

I don’t think my wife wants me to feel such deep terror but she sees it as a means to an end, which is an obedient husband, so the smirk she has had on her face a few times this past week is due to that and not due to naked sadism. It hasn’t mattered to me as my predominant emotion has been fear of screwing up.

My terror has not caused me to screw up, though, so I must not have been too bad off. I have not made a single mistake since that horrible night and several days ago I was told that we would skip the maintenance spanking that week due to the bruising at the time.

My terror has receded enough for me to be able to write in this journal again. It sort of feels like a bomb exploded and it took me a while to shake myself off to be able to stand again. I will try to do whatever it takes not to go through that again.

[day 63]

I intended to write in this journal every day but that’s just not happening. I’m not sure that I want to continue writing a journal at all but my wife suggested that it may be cathartic. She didn’t insist but even a suggestion from her is a command in my view.

I don’t feel comfortable writing about this. I have been reading as many domestic discipline blogs as I can, regardless of gender, and it seems that most everyone seems to be enjoying the dynamic although of course there are some whose dynamic ends for one reason or another. Personally, I’m torn. I read just a few paragraphs up in this journal how I need domestic discipline and that resonated in me just now. I need it. But I hate it.

It’s predictable that since my last entry a couple of weeks ago I have gone through two more rough punishment sessions. I’m not perfect. Many domestic discipline dynamics do not have such a strict dominant for every mistake but my wife does not want to ease up because she knows that my mistakes would be more frequent if I didn’t have this fear of her. She knows it because as soon as she said it she could see the look on my face knowing it to be true. I need her to be strict. I am starting to cry now as I type this.

I’m a wimp. I feel like a nothing. I don’t see how writing in this journal is helping.

I promised myself that I would never edit out a previous entry on this journal so I won’t, but it’s not nearly as bad as I am making it seem from earlier tonight. I will be fine.

[day 64]

I am going to get back to daily journal entries. I am finding that there is a rhythm in which I am punished, I hate it and I have feelings of ending the domestic discipline portion of our marriage, but then I realize that I need it and I get a warm feeling of love along with fear of my wife. The love I refer to is not only love of my wife, I do love my wife with all of my heart, but I also love being so completely owned that I fear the woman I love.

It’s difficult to describe but I get a warm feeling inside me that I am home. When I fantasize it has lately always been about my wife, instead of some random dominatrix. My wife fulfills me by owning me so completely. This is kind of sappy so I’m going to stop for now. I’m sure that the next time I get punished I will probably hate the dynamic again.

[day 65]

Sure enough, I was bad again but I’m going to write even when I can barely sit down, and only if I move around to spread out the pain. After tonight’s weekly maintenance spanking my wife told me that I would be chained to one leg of a table in our den so that I couldn’t lift my neck off the floor and I would be her foot rest. It wasn’t for a punishment at all, it was just for her fun. Of course I want her to have fun and I am glad to follow all of her rules to put me in my place but this seemed to just be sadism and not domination so I tried to talk her out of it.

I am allowed to talk and even to explain why I don’t like a particular task. At what point does that become insolence? I guess I need to view this as a learning process. I am learning that I have no rights except what my wife allows me, even though I was just expressing that she didn’t have to chain my neck for me to stay on the floor as her foot rest. I have no rights not to be tortured and humiliated any way she sees fit. I wish I was writing that from a fantasy standpoint but the reality of that is very painful, very tough to take. I tried to talk her out of giving me a punishment spanking right away but forget that, with my butt already sore from the maintenance spanking just an hour earlier she wailed away on my butt again and every blow was agony. In retrospect she probably did not use her usual force but if not for the tight restraints I would have jumped through the roof with every whack from that goddamn paddle.

I hate the paddle, in case that isn’t already clear. Not just getting paddled or the reason behind the paddle, I also hate the paddle itself. I often want to throw it in the trash or incinerate it. How can such a harmless seeming thing be so horrifying? It isn’t large or heavy, it’s just a piece of wood a bit larger than a hand and with a handle. It fucks me up every time.

And after the punishment spanking I still had to be chained to just lie there on the floor for an hour and a half with my wife’s feet resting on my back as she read a book. A few times she poked my very sore butt with her foot. Boredom, discomfort, pain, frustration, it was not a fun time. She didn’t need to chain me there, I guess that’s the part I really didn’t like.

[day 66]

I have been thinking about the word fun today, thinking about what I wrote yesterday. I can’t even understand my own feelings about it. Last night was about the worst night I have had in a long time and there wasn’t anything fun about any of it, except that it was a strong reinforcement of my feelings that I am completely owned. I have been saying that I need to be and feel owned but I am realizing that I also want it, and it is “fun.” There shouldn’t even be any quotes, it is fun to be completely owned by the woman I love.

But I still hate what I am put through. Is it fun to have to kneel on the floor just to talk with my wife? Ok, yes I admit that is fun. Pain isn’t fun, though, not for me.

[day 67]

I am getting in a groove of being careful enough not to make mistakes. Over the past couple of days my terror of my wife has changed a bit. I am not sure if I can describe it. I still fear practically her every move and while weeks ago I stopped flinching because she doesn’t want me to flinch, I feel the fear most every moment in her presence. But I also still always feel love in her presence and the two feelings seem to be combining into one feeling of a desire to please her.

[day 68]

I am feeling very good today. I don’t know if it was on purpose but my wife seemed sadistic tonight and put me through my paces. If it was an exam, I aced it. I didn’t enjoy it at all but I made it through with flying colors. From time to time my wife tells me that I am a good boy and I like that, but tonight I could feel it deep inside of me that I truly was a good boy. I do not want to twist my shoulder out of its socket patting myself on the back but my wife really poured the praise on me and I am enjoying writing about it.

[day 69]

After the high of last night’s entry I bet you were expecting me to screw up and suffer horrible punishment but you’re wrong. I was wrong.

I truly want to please my wife. The fear and love have continued to combine into a desire to please and it’s no longer about pleasing my wife just due to love and just due to fear, it’s a synergy of the two. When my wife makes a move I don’t worry as much about it causing me some sort of pain or a threat of punishment, though I still do worry about that, my thoughts are that I hope she is pleased and wondering how I can help. She does not want me to be over-attentive in asking if I can help every time she moves, or anything like that, but that doesn’t stop me from following her with my eyes so that I can jump to obey whatever pleases her. I feel sort of like a dog alert and ready to protect its Master.

[day 70]

Tonight I made a face before I obeyed her command to suck her toes. I know that many submissive guys like feet but not me, and I had never sucked toes before. The thought of my tongue on a foot does not seem reasonable. I was going to do it because I obey whatever she wants but she stopped me and told me to get over her knee for a spanking with the paddle I had to go retrieve. Since I was not restrained other than with her left arm over my lower back, she spaced out the blows so that I would not be struggling around once she delivered the next blow. I struggled quite a bit and after a few blows I tried to get up off her lap but she clamped her right leg over my thighs and held her arm down hard on my lower back so I was unable to get up.

After 12 blows I was allowed to get on the floor and I am not proud to say that I was very enthusiastic in sucking her toes, beaten into blubbering and groveling. Once I began, my wife enjoyed my humiliation even though she had punished me for making a face earlier. She laughed at me as I sucked her toes and that made me cry even more.

But I am fine. It’s all part of the package of my being a slave to my wonderful wife. As I think about this, the fact that I love her with all of my heart and she truly is a wonderful wife and person makes all of the suffering I go through worth it. Even right after tonight’s pain and humiliation my desire to be her slave holds firm and I am going to tempt fate in saying that no matter what she throws at me, I will always want to be her slave.

[day 71]

Famous last words. But no, I still feel it to be true. I will always want to be my wife’s slave no matter what.

[day 72]

I tried to beg off tonight’s maintenance spanking as my butt still hurts. It’s okay, though.

[day 74]

Not much to report. I am not sure if I will continue writing in this journal.

[day 83]

I feel like we are settling in so that pain and humiliation are not causing me any emotional trauma. I certainly have ups and downs and I am not perfect. I have suffered a couple of more punishment spankings in the past week but I take ownership of my mistakes and I am learning to fully accept my wife’s judgments and beatings. I don’t know that it helps me take the pain but I think it helps me balance my emotions. I have never been happier and my wife is enjoying the benefits of having a happy and obedient slave, obedient from the combination of love and fear. Does love plus fear equal worship?

I am finding that as the memory and discomfort in my butt from the previous spanking recedes, my level of enthusiasm for obedience and slavish attentiveness also recedes. It isn’t that I want more pain, quite the contrary, but I guess that I need the pain to remind me of my place. I am not proud of that and I am not even sure of it, but I think I do need to be spanked from time to time. The maintenance spankings help but the punishment spankings are worse, so bad that they provide a good reminder. I wish I could be a good slave without the spankings but that doesn’t seem to be the case, and that’s why we are in a domestic discipline lifestyle to begin with.

[day 84]

Tonight I suggested to my wife that we re-explore some of the more extreme desires and fantasies she has. I can’t say that I did not have apprehension about bringing this up at all but my desire to please my wife, even far beyond just wanting to please her due to my fear, makes me want to fulfill as many of her fantasies as I reasonably can. Reasonable is an interesting word here. Is it reasonable to submit to extremely horrible things?

[day 86]

My wife has taken me up on my offer and at her insistence we will take these slowly and one at a time. First will be cuckolding and I will need to help her find someone handsome. Gulp.

I am not going to continue this journal. The thought about going into detail in a journal about those extreme activities is not appealing to me. Also, I think that while writing in this journal helped me cope with the difficulty of transitioning into slavery, it may have made me dwell on my pain more than I needed to and in retrospect I should have just accepted my medicine like a good boy. I am sure that this depends upon the individual, whether or not journaling helps get through difficulties. In my case I think writing about cuckolding would be too painful in itself. I am sure that I will be fine, though. Gulp.

In any case, thank you for reading, if anyone is actually reading this. Let the record reflect that I willingly partake in whatever activities my wife wants and I am happily her slave for life.

Word Count = 14,200

See all my stories at http://www.assdisc.com.