The Matriarchy Is Coming.

My Husband’s Bum

Have you ever gotten what you wanted, but not in the way you wanted it? I did, once, and this is how it happened:

Five or so weeks had passed since putting Ian in chastity that was actually chastity. He had been sneaking his little pecker out of a cage that wasn’t tight enough. He was beaten for this and then experienced his first ‘truly chastised’ orgasm the following day, after not ejaculating for over twenty-four hours. He sprayed off like a pinched garden hose instantly released. It was messy, to say the least.

My husband had been the best behaved I had ever seen him be. House chores done on time, and done completely up to my standards, was the new norm. He was ten times more attentive and intimate; often times coming into whatever room I was in under the guise of seeing if I needed anything, and then begging to kiss me, hold me or just snuggle. Foot rubs and massages were coming in hourly, unsolicited, because any chance to touch me made him so very happy in every way. I was in heaven!

Unfortunately, I get bored easily and like to experience new things. I have friends who go each year to London; they even have a flat there. I have another friend who travels to Puerto Rico every January. I appreciate their love for these places (I’ve been to both), but I save up each year so we can go on a vacation, and it’s to a different place each time. I don’t relive, I live. Life is too short to see the same thing over and over again. I don’t want to die and think ‘I wish I had gone to New Dehli just once instead of going to Paris fourteen times’.

With that being understood, you can imagine why I was sitting in my study looking at the yellow legal pad my husband had filled out. It listed all his desires, likes and hates from our kinky little world. As I read it again, I just became frustrated. So far, the document had been a cacophony of misdirection and half-truths, but it was the only thing I had to work with.

When our new lifestyle started blossoming, I had no experience with female domination in respect to FLR, but I was quickly learning one important lesson about men: they know what they want, but are too afraid, or embarrassed to admit it. Ian wanted chastity controlled by me, but only on his terms of being able cheat. He wanted to get real beatings as real punishment, but as soon as he did, he whined about how harsh it was. The list goes on and on, and reading the yellow legal pad, while recognizing previous lies, made me want to tear the thing to pieces; especially when I got to the ‘dislike section’ and reread the most depressing line there: under no circumstances do I want anything inserted into my ass! He even put an exclamation point at the end. My biggest fantasy was to peg my husband. Just imagining being behind him as my strap-on is pounding in and out of him sends me over the edge whenever I masturbate. Obviously, we weren’t on the same page with this one.

Now, I know what your thinking: if he lied about everything else, why wouldn’t you assume he wasn’t lying about that? That’s a good fucking question. I often asked it to myself. The best I can I can come up with is that women are raised to respect people, and their boundaries. We are raised in a society that treats us a servants. We are built with a need to succumb to the needs of our husbands, our families and our communities. It’s in our nature to trust. Men, on the other hand, are raised to brutally claw their way to the top of the pack so that they can rule over the servants and all the other men. They trust no one.

I set aside the yellow pad, before angrily shredding it, and focused on what might make me happy. What could I do to make this day less boring? After several minutes of brainstorming, I came up with nothing, so I called my friend Kat. She was always good at cheering me up days when the doldrums hit hard.

“Hey Ana. How are you doing, girlfriend?” Kat always answered the phone in a big, bubbly way, and had been calling me girlfriend since the day we met.

“Hi, Kat. I’m good. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.” I said earnestly. Kat has been my best friend for so many years now. I have a dozen or so friends I consider close, but Kat is more like a sister. I share everything with her.

“You sound depressed. Do we need to go out shopping?” It was Kat’s favorite activity. She was convinced it solve every problem on the planet.

“If I were depressed, and that’s an if, why would you think my least favorite activity would make me happier?” I quipped.

“Oh, your down, girlfriend. I can tell.” She replied knowingly. “What do you need me to do? Take you out for some margaritas?”

“I’m not down, Kat. I’m just bored.” I confessed. “Plus, it’s nine in the morning. Where do they serve margaritas at this of day?”

“I know a place.” She said proudly. I could just imagine the dive bar we’d end up in.

“That’s nice, but I think I’ll pass. Just hearing your voice is lifting my spirits.” I know she couldn’t see me, but I was genuinely smiling from her attempts to quell my sour mood.

“Well, how about you invite me over to watch the naked husband of yours run around like a little bitch saying ‘yes mistress’ and all that?” Kat always has the best ideas.

“That is a brilliant idea! When would you like to come over? He’s naked now if your ready!” Humiliating Ian for a while would definitely pull me out of this funk.

“I’m still in my jammies, girlfriend, and I have some work to do. How about dinner time? I can be there about four.”

“Awesome! I’ll go tell Ian to get something special ready! I’ll see you the Kat!” I said excitedly.

“See you then.” Kat replied and hung up the phone.

I had only dominated my husband in front of one person, and that was Kat, and it had only happened once. That was well over a month ago. I had been so busy with work, and figuring out how to keep my deviant little husband in line, that I forgot how much fun that night was. Now, my mind was churning with ideas as to how the day should go. First, I’d need Ian to be ready. I spent a few minutes pushing down my excitement and then went out into the kitchen. I found him cleaning the stove.

“Slave.” I said with my void of any expression. He turned and saw me standing there; arms folded behind my back, looking down at him as a Goddess would to one of her flock. He immediately dropped to floor, put his hands out front and rested his forehead on them.

“Yes, Mistress Anastasia.” He responded. He so loved it when I addressed him as ‘slave’ and nothing else. He took any opportunity to play in our roles as the best of times, and acted accordingly.

“I have invited Kat over for dinner. You will make a meal befitting your Goddess’ best friend. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mistress.” He replied, but then asked a question. “What do want me to be wearing tonight, Mistress?”

“Clothing?” I said sounding aghast. “You think you’ll be allowed to wear clothing? She’s already seen you as you are, and you’ve not earned the right to wear clothing.”

“Yes, Mistress Anastasia.” He said, shuddering with excitement.

“Now, plan a meal, go to the store if you must, but I expect you to serve this feast at five on the dot.”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you for the opportunity to serve you.” He said before standing up. He started running around the kitchen checking for ingredients. I returned to my study to plan.

Around three thirty, the doorbell rang, and I went to the door. It was Kat. I welcomed her in with our standard deep hug and then led her to the living room where we sat down to chat. I vaguely yelled ‘serving boy’ as we walked to the room. Ian showed up shortly after we sat down, wearing nothing but an apron and a cock cage.

“Is there something I can get for you and your guest, Mistress?” He asked in the politest way.

“We would like some tea. Go now and make it.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He nodded and turned to go, exposing his cute little bum from the exposed back of the apron. He walked around the corner and disappeared into the kitchen.

“I thought I’d be seeing more that just his ass.” Kat giggled. I suddenly realized that he was wearing the apron. I was so used to seeing him wearing it when cooking, that I didn’t even notice. I decided I’d rectify that.

“Serving boy!” I called out. Ian came right back in the room and stood respectfully.

“Yes, Mistress. Is there something else I can get you?”

“I know you wear the apron when your cooking to protect yourself from grease and the such, but when you come out here, you will be naked. Leave the apron in the kitchen; do you understand?” I said sternly.

“Yes, Mistress.” He said. “I will leave it in the kitchen.” He started to turn to go. I suddenly remembered that he asked a few hours ago what he would be allowed to wear. I realized he was messing with me by wearing the apron.

“Take it off now.” I said. He stopped moving, turned around and faced me.

“Yes, Mistress.” He said as he reached back to untie the apron. Seconds later he had it pulled of and he stood there, straining at his cage and red with embarrassment, while holding the apron in his right hand to his side.

“Better. Now go.” He nodded submissively and left the room. As soon as he was gone Kat began to speak.

“He’s gotten even more obedient. You’ve been working your magic again, girlfriend?”

“If you’re asking if I’ve been punishing him regularly, yes.” We both laughed.

As a matter of fact, we laughed for the next hour and a half until dinner. We kept making Ian come out and bring us things, occasionally saying things to berate or humiliate him, all while having the time of our lives. Eventually, Ian came out, at exactly five-o-one pm and announced that dinner was served in the formal dining room. We hardly ever used the room. There’s just the two of us so we usually eat at the breakfast nook. No fuss, no muss is the motto in this house. This was different though. We had a house guest.

The table was set for service of two, using the good plates and silverware sitting on an off-white lacy tablecloth that allowed the dark reddish-brown color of the mahogany table show through. The lights where dimmed and two long, forest-green candles were flickering in the silver candleholders on the table. Dark orange and tan napkins and placemats, perfectly representing the fall season, along with two auburn-tinted wine glasses, one already filled with ice water, set at each place setting. It was marvelous!

Ian held the chair for Kat first, then repeated it for me. Kat was seriously impressed. She had never been seated before; let alone by a naked slave boy! After sitting, we were served a lovely spiced wine, which we sipped as my husband brought out a salad for each of us. We kept chatting as my husband brought a homemade loaf of artisan bread and sliced several pieces off for us to enjoy. Once our salads were finished, he brought out the main dish, salmon stuffed ravioli in a three-cheese sauce. After setting the dishes down, he grabbed the salad bowls and ran off. Dessert came eventually, a lovely raspberry cheesecake. The entire meal went perfectly.

It was getting close to seven, and Kat and I were still talking up a storm, when Ian came in and asked if we needed anything else. By that time the table was mostly cleared; only our wine and water glasses and the bread were still present. I said no and picked up my wine glass and headed back to the living room with Kat similarly in tow. Once we left, Ian busily got to work cleaning up. Kat and I went back to talking.

“Kat, I was wondering if you would be interested in helping me with something.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, every night, I let Ian cum. I was hoping to do in front of you to humiliate him.” I said it quickly so I could finish up the statement. “If you’re not comfortable with it, I understand, and there’s no pressure whatsoever.”

“Oh, girlfriend. No need to be so worried. I came over because of how amusing this was last time. I’m totally onboard with whatever, except me getting naked. I’m not interested in some weird threesome thing.”

“No, no, no Kat. Nothing like that. I just want to tie him up, spank him and give him a hand job while you watch; if that’s okay?” I responded sheepishly.

“Oh my God, I would totally do that.”

“Join in only as much as you want and feel free to say anything you want to him. He feeds off talking about his penis size.”

“No problem, girlfriend.” She said excitedly. Ian walked in to the room at that moment.

“Can I get you anything, Mistress? Coffee or tea, perhaps.” He asked respectfully, with his eyes looking down to the floor.

“We are fine sipping our wine.” I responded. Ian’s posture relaxed and he looked ready to respond when I continued. “You can go to our room and hang the ropes.” His body went suddenly tense, like it had been handed a huge weight and he needed to use all of his strength to not be crushed.

“But…” He started to stutter.

“I gave you an order. What do you say?” I spoke sternly and he responded by turning red everywhere but in his cage. That tiny thing was purple and begging to get out.

“Yes, Mistress Anastasia.” He said before nodding and then heading off to our bedroom. As soon as he left the room, Kat started giggling uncontrollably. I shushed her to try to get her to take it more seriously, but to be honest, we had drunk just enough wine to be a giddy, so it was going to be hard for either of us.

We sat around talking for ten minutes before heading back to the room ourselves. I needed to give Ian enough time to get the ropes attached to the sturdy hooks in the ceiling. When we arrived, everything was ready. Two ropes hung from the ceiling with release clips at the ends, the spreader bar was on the floor beneath them, and Ian was kneeling, ass in the air and forehead on the floor, wearing cuffs around his wrists and ankles.

“Good boy. You got it all done.” I said. Kat covered her mouth to suppress a laugh while I stared at my husband. If he had a tail, I’m sure it would have been wagging violently. Such a good dog he is. “Now stand up.”

He complied. I then led him over to the ropes where I checked to make sure he got the cuffs on tightly. The legs are easy, but sometimes he has a hard time cuffing his wrists with only one hand and his teeth to use. I would do it myself, but I enjoy watching him struggle. I hooked him to the ceiling and then to the spreader bar, causing him to be a well-stretched-out ‘X’ shape bound in center of the room. The only thing left to do was take off his cage.

I’ve mentioned that I no longer do this. I know it seems sexy, and even more so, it provides a certainty of ownership when you put it on and take it off yourself, but I just can’t seem to get the hang of it. I’ve accidentally drawn blood by attempting installation, and have caused nasty scratches removing it, so I gave up years ago. Unfortunately, at this time, I was still trying to get it right.

I reached inside my shirt and pulled out the new necklace I purchased a couple weeks prior. I found Ian looking in drawers when cleaning and I became paranoid that he was looking for one of his keys to his cage, so I took all but one and put it in my safe deposit box at the bank. The other key I now wear around my neck. I pulled off the necklace and reached down to unlock the cage. Ian saw what I was doing and immediately looked up at me with pleading eyes.

“Is there something wrong, slave?” We both knew he didn’t want to cum in front of Kat. I should say he did, but he didn’t. All the way up to the moment he blows, he’ll be turned on, but once it is done, he’ll be unbelievably embarrassed and humiliated. He wasn’t sure he was ready for such an experience. It didn’t matter though, because I was.

“No. Mistress Anastasia.” He said returning his gaze to the floor.

“I didn’t think so.” I said as I turned the key and removed the small padlock. As soon as it was free, the plastic cage pulled straight off and his tiny dick sprung to its unimpressive full size. Everything was going well, except that I wasn’t aware that with a hardon the base ring won’t come off. There my husband stood, erect as he could possibly be, with a plastic ring around his cock and balls that I couldn’t get off no matter how hard I tugged. Even worse, it had a plastic rod that stuck out from it that was designed to go into the cage. It’s what you attached the padlock to. The damned thing was poking into his erection causing some pain. After several minutes of completely non-sexy struggling I finally asked Ian what to do. He told me that here was no way it was coming off until he was limp and that would take a half an hour after this much excessive stimulation. He gave me the idea of adding lubricant and twisting the ring so the post was no longer in the path of his shaft. He’d have to keep on the ring, but that just made him look more engorged and I think he liked it.

“Back to action.” I said to get us all back to feeling the mood. I went to the ‘toy box’ and opened the lid and grabbed out the cat-o-nine-tails and came back over. Kat’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw it.

“You’re actually going to hit him with that?”

“Yes. I have before. Many times.” I smiled. “Watch so you know how when it’s your turn.”

“My turn?” Her faces brightened with an excited smile. I turned to Ian and spoke.

“You’ve been a very good slave today, but you’ve made a few mistakes. I will list them now. After each you will apologize. Do you understand, slave?”

“Yes, Mistress Anastasia.” He said trembling with fear and excitement.

“First: this morning you spilled cream while serving me coffee.” I brought the whip down on his butt. He arched his back and pulled his ass away.

“I am sorry, Mistress Anastasia.” He said gritting through his teeth. The first one always hurts the most when I don’t warm him up first.

“Second: you made eye contact on at least four separate occasions.” I brought down the whip on his ass again to less reaction from him, so I delivered the other three to his legs and back.

“I am sorry, Mistress Anastasia.”

“Third: you did a great job on dinner, but you served it one minute late.” I had a feeling he’d done it on purpose, but I didn’t know for sure because the kitchen clock was a little off from the living room one.I brought the whip down on his ass again. He lurched again.

“I am sorry, Mistress.”

“And, for your final offense: topping from the bottom.” His body froze. He knew exactly how I felt about that offense. It gets him the worst whippings.

“What?!” He looked absolutely terrified. “When?!”

“You asked this morning what you’d be wearing for the dinner and I told you very clearly that you’d be naked, yet you chose to come out into the living room wearing an apron.”

“It was an accident!”

“It was an accident, what?” I snapped.

“It was an accident, Mistress Anastasia.” He quickly responded.

“I don’t believe it was. I think you were trying to get me to spank you in front of Kat. Well, now you’re sort of getting your wish. You’re being punished in front of Kat, but it’s not going to be a mere spanking. Your punishment is forty with the whip. Twenty from me and twenty from the guest you acted so poorly in front of. Prepare yourself.” He knew he had no choice. He installed the hooks in the ceiling, purchased the rope for maximum strength and we bought high quality cuffs. He wasn’t going anywhere and there wasn’t much wiggle room as tightly as he was bound.

“Yes, Mistress Anastasia.”

I took his response as my cue to begin. I applied forty good swats from his back to his knees, all the while explaining to Kat how to swing the whip as if Ian was merely a demonstration dummy. When I finished, Kat took over. Her first few were way too light, and a little poorly aimed, but by the tenth stroke she was wielding the whip like an expert. Shortly afterward, Ian stood there, receiving the last strike to his bright ass from a rather worn-out looking friend of mine.

“Whoa! That takes more out of you then I thought it would! I may need to come over here for an exercise routine.” She joked. We both laughed at Ian’s expense.

“Well, I guess it’s time for his emptying.” I said with a tinge of exasperation in my voice. I loved making it seem like a chore I did. “Are you ready, Kat?”

“Oh yeah.” She said emphatically.

I grabbed the ball gag, tube of KY, and the cum-catching dish from the toybox and moved over in front of my husband. I put on his ball gag and smacked his butt with my hand as I moved around in front of him. I squirted a little KY in my hand and grabbed his little penis. It looked ready to blow.

“It’s a small job, but someone has to do it.” I joked as Kat sat and watched as I slowly worked my husband’s tiny member between my well-lubed fingers. I had enough practice now how to keep him right at the tip without letting him pop. It was torturous for him and he loved every minute of it. I usually only do it for about five minutes, ten on a good night, because my arm gets tired, but to my surprise, Kat offered to take over when I mentioned my arm wearing out. She was magnificently skilled and told me how many of her boyfriends in the past liked long slow hand jobs, so she had plenty of practice herself.

Everything was going well. We took turns and now had managed to torture my husband for nearly half an hour, and Kat didn’t want to stop any time soon. She was loving being able to look up at Ian, with his eyes pleading with tears and his mouth gagged, knowing that her ministrations were causing his discomfort. That was when a strange turn of events happened and what I wanted to have happen, happened, but in a very different way than I had imagined.

“I need a little more lube, girlfriend. This tiny-dicked bitch is drying out.” Kat said. I grabbed the tube of KY and squirted it into her hand and that famous pfffttt noise happened as the last of it came out.

“That’s it for this tube. I’ve got another in the bathroom if you’re up for keeping going.”

“You know it! This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time! I could keep this up for another hour!” She exclaimed as my husband’s eyes nearly popped form his head.

“I’ll be right back.” I said as I headed toward the bathroom. It took over ten minutes to find the extra tube. When I came back what I saw was so unbelievable, my jaw dropped straight to the floor, but I should tell you what happened right after I left.

Kat continued to bring my husband right to the edge and back after I had left the room; the whole time telling him how she’d never seen a cock as small as his. According to Ian’s recollection, his eyes rolled back up inside his head and stayed there for most of that. But then, suddenly, Kat said something to bring him back around.

“You know, I had a boyfriend a while back who loved hand jobs just like you. His was a lot bigger than this pathetic thing, but like you he loved it rubbed. He also like this.” With that she reached one of her well lubed hands around, her left one, and ran her finger in between Ian’s butt cheeks. Figuring out what she was planning to do, he immediately began to protest through his gag.

“Oh, you don’t want a finger up your tiny little butthole?” She said mockingly. He shook his head violently. She had been smiling, but now she looked stern and said: “Too bad, little man.” She then put one well lubed finger straight up into my husband rectum. He jumped on to his tiptoes as high as he could, but she just moved with him. No matter how he moved, he couldn’t get her out.

“You act like you’re not enjoying it, but just look at your tiny little cock. It’s all purple and hard and wanting to cum. It’s betraying you little boy.” She said mockingly again.

She pulled her finger almost all the way out and he began to relax, but then she pushed it right back in. She started fucking him with her finger, but had to stop touching his penis because it was ready to explode. After a couple of minutes, she pulled it all the way out. Ian nearly collapsed; looking spent until Kat spoke again.

“I think you’re ready for two now.” With that, she twisted two fingers into his ass, and he screamed out as best he could with the gag on. That was when I walked in and saw Kat kneeling on the floor. She was no longer touching his cock and was giggling. Ian was rock hard and jerking his body all over trying to get her fingers out of his asshole and I couldn’t really tell what was going on from my angle of view.

“What’s going on?” I said as I was walking over.

“Oh, I was just trying something an ex of mine loved. He got off when I put a couple of fingers in his butt during a hand job. Your husbands so turned on I can’t even touch his little pecker.” She laughed.

I was mortified. She just did the one thing my husband never wanted to do, and he had trusted me to protect him when he was all tied up. I felt horrible. I felt like I had completely betrayed him as he hung there. How could I be such a horrible wife? It didn’t take long for that moment of shock to wear off and I yelled at Kat.

“No! Don’t do that! It’s the one thing he hates!” She looked at me. Then looked at his cock. Then at me again.

“No man who hates a little butt play keeps his cock that hard with two fingers up his ass, girlfriend.” She said matter-of-factly. I looked at Ian’s cock, completely untouched for the whole time I’d been back in the room and saw it was about to blow. I looked at Kat and she smiled. “Watch this.”

She began fucking his ass with her two fingers and Ian began to protest even more. I looked up at him and he looked at me like a wounded animal. I looked at his cock again and was amazed. It was the hardest I’d ever seen it. I looked up at him again and saw his scrunch his eyes shut. Instinctively, I grabbed the plate.

Stream after stream shot from his completely untouched cock. I swear, he shot nearly a half cup of white, creamy goo all over it, spanning nearly sixty seconds of continuous orgasm. Once complete he just hung there like meat ready to be butchered. That’s when Kat spoke.

“What’s with the plate?”

I was irate. I wanted to take his virgin ass, the ass I never though I’d ever get into, and here my best friend unknowingly took it instead. I was pissed, but not at Kat. I was furious with Ian for lying to me once again. I put away my anger for later

“That plate is a treat for a certain slave boy.” Kat just laughed. I leaned in close to my husband’s ear. “And, the beating your going to get later is for a worthless slave who lies to his Mistress about pegging.”

The night ended with Kat laughing hysterically as Ian licked up his own cum off the plate. She left shortly after. Ian and I though stayed up and had a long conversation about what happened, but that’s a story for another time.