How My Husband Made Me A Submissive Wife

It began with such an ordinary day too; a kiss good morning and a change of plans; par for the course on a Saturday. As I think back on the moments from the morning that my memory has preserved, I can find nothing in them that telegraphed what was coming; at least not in the part of it when we were together.

When you kissed me goodbye on your way out to the things that insisted on your time there was an evil twinkle in your eyes that told me the day would eventually be ours. But this was not unusual. Sex on Saturday and Sunday was one of our promises to ourselves. No matter what came up during the week, or whether or not we found time for it at other times, only illness or separation was allowed to get in the way of lovemaking on the weekend. It was one of the things that let me smile even though the outside world took you from the morning that was supposed to be mine.

I puttered around the kitchen, the family room and the laundry room for the better part of the morning. Only when I finally decided I should get dressed and go out to do some errands did I discover the half of what was behind the evil twinkle in your eyes.

The rose on my pillow was first to catch my eye; blood red, framed on the crisp cream cotton by a thin ribbon of supple black leather. A pale square of paper rested there too.

You’re mine.
Tonight it is my pleasure to remind you.
all my love, Mark

I felt the quickening of excitement flutter in both my chest and my groin. The electric tingle of it only intensified when I turned and saw the tightly wrapped bundle of twigs arrayed like a stark silvery brown bouquet. It was crossed by one of your canes. Both nested in a toppled lop sided leather vase made from ankle and wrist cuffs.

I giggled, feeling self conscious even though I was alone. You left the tableau for me to find, knowing what it would do to me.

Hours; it would be hours before you came home. Hours for me to imagine what you had in mind. Hours for my mind to conjure the details of what might fill an evening where we would make use of the things you laid out.

I smiled and let myself go where you wanted me to go. I gave over almost every spare moment the day let me have to going there in my mind. It was a delicious sensuous afternoon. When you did come home, I was wet and throbbing with desire. You knew it too.

“Did you like my decorating?”

I nodded, kissed you and let you know how much. You responded to the way I ground against you with a low appreciative groan.

“Did you keep it for me?” you probed between my thighs kneading the damp denim seam that covered my sex.

I smiled, knowing what you meant. I had, and I could tell by the way you smiled that it pleased you. I admitted to the temptation, but told you how excited it made me to think about it and know I could, but how much I wanted to wait for you. How I knew that when it was time I would cum harder because I waited, letting it build up all day.

You answered that by taking my mouth with yours and spanning my crotch and the crack of my ass between your thumb and fingers and squeezing hard. I couldn’t help squirming on your hand.

“Do you want to eat first?”

I couldn’t have eaten to save my soul.

“Thank you,” I whispered, when you laughed and kissed me again. I wrapped my arms around your neck, and helped you lift me.

In the bedroom, you put me down beside the ottoman, and slowly removed my clothes. When I was naked, you handed me the rose, and I held it to my face while you place your collar on my neck and the cuffs on my ankles and wrists.

“Are you mine?”


“You want this don’t you baby?”


You picked up the birch and swished it. The sound and your sudden movement pulsed through me escalating the already buzzing electricity of my arousal.

It was my turn to smile at you with an evil twinkle. “I think I’ve been bad.”

You chuckled and placed clips on the wrist cuffs securing them together then you took all the pillows off the bed and placed them diagonally on the ottoman. When that was done, you guided me down on top of them. My thighs straddled one corner and my arms straddled the one opposite. You clipped my ankles together and then moved around to crouch by my face.

“Comfy?” you nuzzled my cheek and probed for my lips with yours.

I was too anxious to really tell, but I nodded that I was.

“You ready to cum now baby?”

“Yes please,” I gasped. The words, the way you said them and the promise I’d reveled in all day had me already so close, if I’d pushed my pelvis down into the pillows I would have exploded in that moment.

“Hold it until I say you can, alright?” you swished the birch again. My whole being twitched with it and I almost lost myself.

“OK,” I gasped again. “I’ll try.”

And then you laced me with it, stinging my bottom and my legs lightly. You teased me with it; flicking me with prickling strokes that slowly warmed my flesh. The sting was incredibly sensuous. You warmed me so well that I never once felt anything even approaching pain. By the time my bottom was scalding, I was floating on waves of pleasure. You kept up the gradual escalation, turning up the flames, until I knew I would not be able to hold back.

“Please!” I whispered my plea.

“You need to cum?”

“Yes! Please!”



“Let’s go then,” you answered with a searing lash if the twigs.

I gasped and whimpered, and raised my hips for “More!”

The flames of pleasure/pain pierced into me and I couldn’t control my wanton bucking hips.

Just as I told you it would be, my climax was explosive and amazing. The spasms lasted for well over a minute.

“Good girl,” you leaned across my back nuzzling my neck and whispering into my ear. “You’re such a good little pain slut.”

I cringed, but not from the words that ordinarily would repel me. Right then I liked the words and I loved the prickly goose flesh raised by your hot breath on my neck. “When did you take your clothes off?” I wondered when I felt your hard shaft stroke and nuzzle against my bottom.

I don’t remember being lifted up or having the clips removed from the cuffs, but I do remember being perched on my knees on the corner of the bed just as you plunged yourself into my pussy. You felt so good there, and when you with drew and thrust deeper, you felt even better.

“Fuck me!” I pushed back into you.

You spanked me hard with both your hands.

“Fuck me!” I yelped.

You spanked me harder.

“Harder!” I cried, and you obliged.

There is nothing like the kind of wild rutting that happens when you spank me as hard as you fuck me, especially when your goal is to make me cum hard.

“Cum for me!” your voice was hard, and the spanking was harder.

“OK!” I gasped. There was no way I could hold out. Twice more you thrust into me and then I obeyed you.

“Good girl!” you chuckled and ground into me milking my spasms until they abated. “Again baby.”

Twice more you pushed me over the edge. And then you pulled me on top of you and rode me hard from below.

You plunged into me; cleaving me, filling me, taking me. Your hands cruelly squeezed and crushed the raw flesh of my buttocks. Your hips pummeled and thrust up into me. Urgency and panic took me. Agony took me. Ecstasy melded with distress and spasms into crisis. I climaxed for you again, and you reveled in it.

Thank you for reminding me that I am yours.

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11 thoughts on “How My Husband Made Me A Submissive Wife

  1. You hit on a couple of things that made me think, constance.

    I cannot remember the last time that I masturbated. I know it has been years. Well masturbated alone. As you said, orgasms just seem so much more intense with boyfriend that alone is almost a let down.

    Now, if we are apart and “frustration” is building up, we have phone sex and such, and of course together, mutual masturbation and other games. But those times are still with him and so much better than alone.

    Another thing is the power of some words. I know there are girls that swear by the cliche “I love you”and there is no doubt that that is absolutely wonderful to hear.

    But without doubt, the 3 words that can start getting me instantly getting wet and knees weak is “You are mine” . So powerful and so soul reaching.

    Thanks for the read constance. Hope you and hubby had wonderful holiday times

    amber xxx


      • tors 16 aug. 2018 vid 14:58

        Here is a little information about this birch bundle made from very thin ends of twigs. If you use this tool you’ve got a form of correction which gives an intense pain but it nevertheless leaves no marks that don’t disappear in about one day. You don’t have to use much force here—it isn’t neccesary, the pain builds up slowly and you can keep up the good work for half an hour for a lasting impression in your wife’s mind. This isn’t cruel at all compared to using a cane which you can use only a very short time and therefore doesn’t cause the lasting memory effect you want to achieve.
        Have in mind that this birch branch bundle dries very quickly. You can easily soften it by putting it into a big cheramic bowl or anything with hot water. It then becomes as good as new and fresh. I think that these implements that are mentioned here very often are too harsh and nearly cruel! With this natural, silent and free tool one makes the dear wife’s behind get this neccessary, intense pain without bruises and scars.
        I strongly recommend a bundle of about ten, very thin branches from a birch tree, for example! A proper length can be about one foot two.It should look like this, perhaps with even thinner ends of the twigs:
        Infoga bild

        No noise at all, (at least from the tool), and very effective but still harmless.
        You can normally start up with 20 to 30 slaps with open hand and then use this bundle! If you want to be very silent you of course use this method immediately,
        It is a very mild form of spanking at the beginning but after about 150 lashes it makes a sharp, stinging feeling that can not be ignored.Then you pause for a minute or two and then continue. All of this can and should be done several times but of course it is up to yourselves. Do not forget, during a maintenance spanking, to communicate with caresses and hugs. We love our wives, don’t we!


  2. The effect spanking has on my wife’s sexuality is more indirect. She gets horny about 24 hours after being spanked.


  3. In our home, my wife’s the 1 who does all of the spanking & turns me over her knee for a bare bottomed spanking whenever she thinks I need it, even though I’m 61. She’s bigger, stronger & more dominate than I.


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