A blog, written by a couple in a female led marriage, devoted to the idea that women would run the world far better than men have and that a matriarchy can be achieved by using the weaknesses men possess against them.
How is it that a simple utterance of words can have such a profound effect on a day? I just finished dominating my husband, and my boyfriend, while making strides in increasing one slave’s willingness to engage in homosexual acts to enhance my pleasure, while simultaneously providing the other slave with his fantasy of being dominated by a bull, and I get a huge dose of whiney insecurity from my husband. I wonder why I try sometimes. Regardless, here is how I handled it:
“Do you love him more than me?” My husband said while kneeling on the floor; wearing only on cock cage and a look of dismay. I responded with a frustrated scream. It took nearly everything in me to keep from punching him. The only thing that stayed my hand was the knowledge that I would be hitting him with a belt soon enough. Between my scream, and the look of anger on my face, my husband realized that things were about to get real. His eyes went from sadness to fear, but the look of being on the verge of crying stayed the same.
“Fine! I’ve had enough!” I reached down and grabbed his ear as I walk passed, yanked him to his feet and nearly dragged him to the bedroom by it. Once there, I violently threw him to the floor by his ear and then ordered him to put up the ropes. He looked up from his knees and spoke.
“Ana, I think we should talk about this.” He said calmly; trying to diffuse the situation. In turn, I slapped him across the face. I could have hit him harder, but the robe I had thrown on to see Greg to the door in was a little small, and the tightness of the sleeves kept my arm from having a full range of motion.
“Hang the ropes, now!” I ordered. He looked up at me. A red handprint was appearing on his face.
“Ana, please!” He begged.
“Hang the ropes or I’m packing a bag and leaving.” I said levelly. The rage in me was boiling below the surface, and he could feel the heat of it. “Choose now.”
“Please, just calm down.”
“Is that your choice?” I asked
He looked up at me. He knew I wasn’t bluffing. He got up and went to chest on the wall opposite our bed in the room. It was still unlocked from this morning’s activities. He reached in and pulled out the ropes. He quickly hooked them to ceiling and let them hang down. He then grabbed his wrist and ankle cuffs. He donned them; the whole time staring at me as if what I was doing was somehow wrong. To finish, he pulled the spreader bar from the chest and set it on the floor.
“It’s ready, Mistress.” He said. I immediately moved in and attached his wrists to the ceiling ropes. As I bent down and started attaching the spreader bar to his ankle cuffs, he spoke again. “Please be gentle.”
“No.” I said as I stood up.
I went to the other side of the room where the chest was. I reached inside and pulled out several toys; the first being a ball gag. I went back over to the bed and set them down. Ian noticed the instruments, especially the cane and the cat-o-nine tails. He suddenly realized I intended to beat him with multiple instruments.
“Please, Ana! We need to talk about this!” I turned around from laying the items out on the bed. With a ball gag in my hand I walked up to Ian.
“Open wide.” He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head instead, so I reached down and grabbed the testicles hanging out of his cage. I squeezed them hard enough to get him to open his mouth with a wincing scream. I jammed the gag in and locked it around behind his head. One of his favorite tortures when we were younger was me telling him what is safe-word was, and then putting the ball gag in his mouth so he couldn’t use it. He hadn’t had a safe-word in over a decade, so the only time the gag went in was when I planned to beat him so hard the neighbors might hear his unmuffled screams.
I walked back over to the bed. I’m sure he assumed that I was going to pick up a toy and start beating him with it, but instead I sat down and crossed my legs. Most of me was still covered by my tight flannel robe, but my shapely legs now protruded and the feet my husband worships were now visible and taunting him. I looked him straight in the eye, and he cast his eyes to the floor.
“No. Don’t do that.” I said.
“Hmmmmph?” He asked, still staring at the carpet beneath his feet. The gag was doing its job marvelously.
“Don’t break eye contact with me. I want you to stare directly into my eyes.”
“Uh huh.” He hummed through his nose. He looked up, saw my smoldering anger once again, and diverted his gaze for a second time. He quickly realized he should follow orders and returned his gaze to my eyes again.
“You know I’m pissed, right?”
He nodded.
“Do you know why?”
“Hmmmph hum nnngh ump errm hump!” He shook his head wildly and his face turned red with effort.
“Not even close.” I said with no emotion. “Want to try again?”
“HMMMMPH MMMM NGHUM!” He screamed emphatically through the gag.
“Nope.” I said nonchalantly. “I guess I’ll have to explain it to you.” I stood up, untied my robe and let it drop to the floor; exposing my body except where my panties covered my most coveted spot. Meanwhile, he started pulling and yanking at his ropes, but I had him stretched out to the farthest loops. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was still speaking muffled gibberish and pleading with his eyes as I reached down and grabbed the riding crop, all without breaking eye contact with him. I slowly moved the two steps to reach him. I planted my feet about a shoulder’s with apart and pushed my weight on to my right leg, causing my hip to slide right. I reached out and put one finger on his gag to hush him.
“It’s time for us to work through a few things, as a couple, and I think this can be best accomplished by you only being able to nod or shake your head. I will ask only yes or no questions, so it will be easy for you to respond. Do you understand?” Once again, I heard an onslaught of humming drivel coming from him. I gently placed my left hand on his face and looked at him with the most empathetic face I could muster. I held that pose for a moment before taking a step back and bringing the crop up directly between his legs; slapping his exposed testicles. The gag worked well at encasing the scream that followed. A moment or two later, once he calmed down from the strike, I spoke again.
“Are you ready to answer the questions now?”
I was almost saddened that he started nodding his head. I was in such a mood to knock some more of the defiance out of him. He looked up at me with true fear in his eyes. Finally, I thought, I have his attention at last.
“Good.” I stayed as unemotional as I could. “Do you remember when you asked me to dominate you?”
He nodded.
“Do you remember that you said you wanted real slavery? Not some little game we would play a couple times a week, or for short periods. You said you wanted real twenty-four-seven slavery, Remember?”
He nodded.
“Do you remember telling me that if you were ever excessively disobedient, that I should be excessive with my punishment?”
He nodded, but with some attempt at speaking through the gag. The crop came up immediately into his scrotum. He yelped and winced from the pain.
“Hopefully, for the sake of your balls, you get on board with how we’re communicating. You nod your head, or you shake your head. You don’t make noise. Got it?”
He nodded.
“Now, do you remember when you begged me to cuckold you?”
He nodded.
“Do you remember how I said I wanted nothing to do with cuckolding?”
He nodded.
“Do you remember begging me until I finally relented?”
More nodding.
“Do you remember telling me your fantasy was not for me to pick up random guys for a night, but for me to get a boyfriend; something more substantial?”
He nodded.
“When I asked you why, you said that the feeling of jealousy was what drove the cuckold fetish. That hooking up with some fling from a dating side or singles bar was little more than swinging. You said you wanted me to have another man I could do with as I please, whenever I wanted. Not only that, but you wanted me to flaunt that relationship in front of you to remind you of your place in this relationship. Do you remember all that?”
He nodded again, but this time he began to look sullen.
“Do you remember telling me that fucking my boyfriend more often than you would be humiliating, and that you’d enjoy it?
A nod.
“Moving on. Do you remember telling me that being humiliated in front of my boyfriend would be a turn on for you?”
More nodding.
“And that having to fluff my boyfriend, or provide cleanup duties would also be something you’d enjoy?”
He nodded again.
“Finally, on this subject, do you remember telling me that having my ‘bull’ order you around would be the most humiliating thing you could ever experience?”
He nodded.
“Today, my boyfriend who you begged me to get,” I smacked his left nipple with the crop hard enough to make him wince. “came to our house.” I smacked his right nipple harder. “In front of him,” Again to the left. “you were humiliated greatly.” Once again, a smack on the right nipple. “You were then forced to orally please him,” Left nipple smack. “and he came in your mouth.” Right nipple this time. “Then you were forced to clean him up again after he dribbled more.” Extra hard on the left nipple. “As an added bonus today,” Right nipple even harder. “he dominated you.” Left smack. “Like,” Right “you,” Left, “always,” Right. “said,” Left. “you,” Right. “fantasized,” Left. “about!” Right again. The entire time of the alternating blows he flopped back and forth like a strung-up fish.
He finally relaxed from all the nipple strikes and nodded. I turned and walked over to the bed, set down the crop and returned with the cane. As I moved toward him, he shook his head in fear; pleading for me to be done. I was far from done. I moved off to his left and aimed up his ass with my bamboo rod.
“It’s time for more questions. I need to have a better understanding about how you felt today. Ready?” He shook his head no. I brought the cane down on his ass. His whole body went rigid from the pain. “Ready now?”
After a few deep breaths, he nodded.
“Were today’s activities humiliating?” A swat with the cane. He jumped.
He nodded.
“Did they turn you on?” Another swat with the cane.
He nodded again.
“Did me kissing Greg make you jealous?” A harder swat.
He nodded again, but once again sullenly.
“Did Greg ordering you to suck his cock turn you on?” Swat.
He nodded. Tears were streaking down his face.
“So, let’s recap what I have done for you: I have gotten a boyfriend, not just a one-night stand. I have forged a relationship where I can do what I what, whenever I want with him. I humiliate you in front of Greg, but I also remind you when we’re alone that he gets to make love to me more than you do. I make you please him orally to humiliate you. And now today, I gave my boyfriend the ability to order you around to further humiliate you. Does that sound about right?” I finished with a good hard swing of the cane.
He nodded.
“Isn’t that everything you wanted?” No swat this time.
He nodded, defeated. I tossed the cane over onto the bed and moved up behind him. I wrapped my arms around and pressed my body up against him. With my right cheek plastered to his upper back, I spoke again.
“I love you, Ian. I always have and I always will. I have done all these things because you asked me to. Whipping you, dominating you, enslaving you and cuckolding you; these were all your ideas. In most cases I went along reluctantly. But, I’ve done them all for you.” I let go and moved around in front of him. I looked him in the eyes. “You are my husband. I’m never letting you go.” I smiled, and he smiled back. I kissed his forehead.
I smiled once more before going over to the bed and picking up the cat-o-nine tails. I turned around and looked at my husband’s face. It had gone from the relief I had just seen as I kissed his forehead, to abject terror. I moved of to his left again.
“I have a few new rules for you. You will never again ask me if I love another man more than you, because that will never happen. You will never again fear that I’m leaving you, because that will never happen either. Most of all, you will never again expect that my love for you gets you any privileges. You asked me to give up Greg. You don’t have that right to ask that of me. Years ago, you gave up all your rights to me when you begged me to make you a real slave. Well, I’m asserting my rights to do to you as I wish. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“I’m keeping Greg for as long as I want. I like him and I love his cock. There’s nothing you can do about that. Do you understand?”
He nodded, sullenly.
“You gave this to me. I didn’t want it, but you made me take it. Now that I have a loving slave husband, and well-hung stud who pleases me sexually, something my tiny-dicked husband can’t do, I don’t want to give them up. Furthermore, I’m not. I’m keeping you both and there’s nothing you can do about it. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“One last thing: I keep asking you if you understand, not if you agree. No longer am I going to ask you to agree to my terms. All terms are my terms. Your agreement is unnecessary, unneeded and unimportant. Do you understand?”
He shuddered, then nodded.
“Good.” I licked my lips. “Then let your whipping begin.”
His eyes went wide long before the first stroke of a hundred lashes was applied. As I whipped him, I just hoped that this new dynamic would be enough to quell his insecurities. We shall see.
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Update 4/28/2019 (part 2 of update 4/27/2019)
How is it that a simple utterance of words can have such a profound effect on a day? I just finished dominating my husband, and my boyfriend, while making strides in increasing one slave’s willingness to engage in homosexual acts to enhance my pleasure, while simultaneously providing the other slave with his fantasy of being dominated by a bull, and I get a huge dose of whiney insecurity from my husband. I wonder why I try sometimes. Regardless, here is how I handled it:
“Do you love him more than me?” My husband said while kneeling on the floor; wearing only on cock cage and a look of dismay. I responded with a frustrated scream. It took nearly everything in me to keep from punching him. The only thing that stayed my hand was the knowledge that I would be hitting him with a belt soon enough. Between my scream, and the look of anger on my face, my husband realized that things were about to get real. His eyes went from sadness to fear, but the look of being on the verge of crying stayed the same.
“Fine! I’ve had enough!” I reached down and grabbed his ear as I walk passed, yanked him to his feet and nearly dragged him to the bedroom by it. Once there, I violently threw him to the floor by his ear and then ordered him to put up the ropes. He looked up from his knees and spoke.
“Ana, I think we should talk about this.” He said calmly; trying to diffuse the situation. In turn, I slapped him across the face. I could have hit him harder, but the robe I had thrown on to see Greg to the door in was a little small, and the tightness of the sleeves kept my arm from having a full range of motion.
“Hang the ropes, now!” I ordered. He looked up at me. A red handprint was appearing on his face.
“Ana, please!” He begged.
“Hang the ropes or I’m packing a bag and leaving.” I said levelly. The rage in me was boiling below the surface, and he could feel the heat of it. “Choose now.”
“Please, just calm down.”
“Is that your choice?” I asked
He looked up at me. He knew I wasn’t bluffing. He got up and went to chest on the wall opposite our bed in the room. It was still unlocked from this morning’s activities. He reached in and pulled out the ropes. He quickly hooked them to ceiling and let them hang down. He then grabbed his wrist and ankle cuffs. He donned them; the whole time staring at me as if what I was doing was somehow wrong. To finish, he pulled the spreader bar from the chest and set it on the floor.
“It’s ready, Mistress.” He said. I immediately moved in and attached his wrists to the ceiling ropes. As I bent down and started attaching the spreader bar to his ankle cuffs, he spoke again. “Please be gentle.”
“No.” I said as I stood up.
I went to the other side of the room where the chest was. I reached inside and pulled out several toys; the first being a ball gag. I went back over to the bed and set them down. Ian noticed the instruments, especially the cane and the cat-o-nine tails. He suddenly realized I intended to beat him with multiple instruments.
“Please, Ana! We need to talk about this!” I turned around from laying the items out on the bed. With a ball gag in my hand I walked up to Ian.
“Open wide.” He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head instead, so I reached down and grabbed the testicles hanging out of his cage. I squeezed them hard enough to get him to open his mouth with a wincing scream. I jammed the gag in and locked it around behind his head. One of his favorite tortures when we were younger was me telling him what is safe-word was, and then putting the ball gag in his mouth so he couldn’t use it. He hadn’t had a safe-word in over a decade, so the only time the gag went in was when I planned to beat him so hard the neighbors might hear his unmuffled screams.
I walked back over to the bed. I’m sure he assumed that I was going to pick up a toy and start beating him with it, but instead I sat down and crossed my legs. Most of me was still covered by my tight flannel robe, but my shapely legs now protruded and the feet my husband worships were now visible and taunting him. I looked him straight in the eye, and he cast his eyes to the floor.
“No. Don’t do that.” I said.
“Hmmmmph?” He asked, still staring at the carpet beneath his feet. The gag was doing its job marvelously.
“Don’t break eye contact with me. I want you to stare directly into my eyes.”
“Uh huh.” He hummed through his nose. He looked up, saw my smoldering anger once again, and diverted his gaze for a second time. He quickly realized he should follow orders and returned his gaze to my eyes again.
“You know I’m pissed, right?”
He nodded.
“Do you know why?”
“Hmmmph hum nnngh ump errm hump!” He shook his head wildly and his face turned red with effort.
“Not even close.” I said with no emotion. “Want to try again?”
“HMMMMPH MMMM NGHUM!” He screamed emphatically through the gag.
“Nope.” I said nonchalantly. “I guess I’ll have to explain it to you.” I stood up, untied my robe and let it drop to the floor; exposing my body except where my panties covered my most coveted spot. Meanwhile, he started pulling and yanking at his ropes, but I had him stretched out to the farthest loops. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was still speaking muffled gibberish and pleading with his eyes as I reached down and grabbed the riding crop, all without breaking eye contact with him. I slowly moved the two steps to reach him. I planted my feet about a shoulder’s with apart and pushed my weight on to my right leg, causing my hip to slide right. I reached out and put one finger on his gag to hush him.
“It’s time for us to work through a few things, as a couple, and I think this can be best accomplished by you only being able to nod or shake your head. I will ask only yes or no questions, so it will be easy for you to respond. Do you understand?” Once again, I heard an onslaught of humming drivel coming from him. I gently placed my left hand on his face and looked at him with the most empathetic face I could muster. I held that pose for a moment before taking a step back and bringing the crop up directly between his legs; slapping his exposed testicles. The gag worked well at encasing the scream that followed. A moment or two later, once he calmed down from the strike, I spoke again.
“Are you ready to answer the questions now?”
I was almost saddened that he started nodding his head. I was in such a mood to knock some more of the defiance out of him. He looked up at me with true fear in his eyes. Finally, I thought, I have his attention at last.
“Good.” I stayed as unemotional as I could. “Do you remember when you asked me to dominate you?”
He nodded.
“Do you remember that you said you wanted real slavery? Not some little game we would play a couple times a week, or for short periods. You said you wanted real twenty-four-seven slavery, Remember?”
He nodded.
“Do you remember telling me that if you were ever excessively disobedient, that I should be excessive with my punishment?”
He nodded, but with some attempt at speaking through the gag. The crop came up immediately into his scrotum. He yelped and winced from the pain.
“Hopefully, for the sake of your balls, you get on board with how we’re communicating. You nod your head, or you shake your head. You don’t make noise. Got it?”
He nodded.
“Now, do you remember when you begged me to cuckold you?”
He nodded.
“Do you remember how I said I wanted nothing to do with cuckolding?”
He nodded.
“Do you remember begging me until I finally relented?”
More nodding.
“Do you remember telling me your fantasy was not for me to pick up random guys for a night, but for me to get a boyfriend; something more substantial?”
He nodded.
“When I asked you why, you said that the feeling of jealousy was what drove the cuckold fetish. That hooking up with some fling from a dating side or singles bar was little more than swinging. You said you wanted me to have another man I could do with as I please, whenever I wanted. Not only that, but you wanted me to flaunt that relationship in front of you to remind you of your place in this relationship. Do you remember all that?”
He nodded again, but this time he began to look sullen.
“Do you remember telling me that fucking my boyfriend more often than you would be humiliating, and that you’d enjoy it?
A nod.
“Moving on. Do you remember telling me that being humiliated in front of my boyfriend would be a turn on for you?”
More nodding.
“And that having to fluff my boyfriend, or provide cleanup duties would also be something you’d enjoy?”
He nodded again.
“Finally, on this subject, do you remember telling me that having my ‘bull’ order you around would be the most humiliating thing you could ever experience?”
He nodded.
“Today, my boyfriend who you begged me to get,” I smacked his left nipple with the crop hard enough to make him wince. “came to our house.” I smacked his right nipple harder. “In front of him,” Again to the left. “you were humiliated greatly.” Once again, a smack on the right nipple. “You were then forced to orally please him,” Left nipple smack. “and he came in your mouth.” Right nipple this time. “Then you were forced to clean him up again after he dribbled more.” Extra hard on the left nipple. “As an added bonus today,” Right nipple even harder. “he dominated you.” Left smack. “Like,” Right “you,” Left, “always,” Right. “said,” Left. “you,” Right. “fantasized,” Left. “about!” Right again. The entire time of the alternating blows he flopped back and forth like a strung-up fish.
He finally relaxed from all the nipple strikes and nodded. I turned and walked over to the bed, set down the crop and returned with the cane. As I moved toward him, he shook his head in fear; pleading for me to be done. I was far from done. I moved off to his left and aimed up his ass with my bamboo rod.
“It’s time for more questions. I need to have a better understanding about how you felt today. Ready?” He shook his head no. I brought the cane down on his ass. His whole body went rigid from the pain. “Ready now?”
After a few deep breaths, he nodded.
“Were today’s activities humiliating?” A swat with the cane. He jumped.
He nodded.
“Did they turn you on?” Another swat with the cane.
He nodded again.
“Did me kissing Greg make you jealous?” A harder swat.
He nodded again, but once again sullenly.
“Did Greg ordering you to suck his cock turn you on?” Swat.
He nodded. Tears were streaking down his face.
“So, let’s recap what I have done for you: I have gotten a boyfriend, not just a one-night stand. I have forged a relationship where I can do what I what, whenever I want with him. I humiliate you in front of Greg, but I also remind you when we’re alone that he gets to make love to me more than you do. I make you please him orally to humiliate you. And now today, I gave my boyfriend the ability to order you around to further humiliate you. Does that sound about right?” I finished with a good hard swing of the cane.
He nodded.
“Isn’t that everything you wanted?” No swat this time.
He nodded, defeated. I tossed the cane over onto the bed and moved up behind him. I wrapped my arms around and pressed my body up against him. With my right cheek plastered to his upper back, I spoke again.
“I love you, Ian. I always have and I always will. I have done all these things because you asked me to. Whipping you, dominating you, enslaving you and cuckolding you; these were all your ideas. In most cases I went along reluctantly. But, I’ve done them all for you.” I let go and moved around in front of him. I looked him in the eyes. “You are my husband. I’m never letting you go.” I smiled, and he smiled back. I kissed his forehead.
I smiled once more before going over to the bed and picking up the cat-o-nine tails. I turned around and looked at my husband’s face. It had gone from the relief I had just seen as I kissed his forehead, to abject terror. I moved of to his left again.
“I have a few new rules for you. You will never again ask me if I love another man more than you, because that will never happen. You will never again fear that I’m leaving you, because that will never happen either. Most of all, you will never again expect that my love for you gets you any privileges. You asked me to give up Greg. You don’t have that right to ask that of me. Years ago, you gave up all your rights to me when you begged me to make you a real slave. Well, I’m asserting my rights to do to you as I wish. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“I’m keeping Greg for as long as I want. I like him and I love his cock. There’s nothing you can do about that. Do you understand?”
He nodded, sullenly.
“You gave this to me. I didn’t want it, but you made me take it. Now that I have a loving slave husband, and well-hung stud who pleases me sexually, something my tiny-dicked husband can’t do, I don’t want to give them up. Furthermore, I’m not. I’m keeping you both and there’s nothing you can do about it. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“One last thing: I keep asking you if you understand, not if you agree. No longer am I going to ask you to agree to my terms. All terms are my terms. Your agreement is unnecessary, unneeded and unimportant. Do you understand?”
He shuddered, then nodded.
“Good.” I licked my lips. “Then let your whipping begin.”
His eyes went wide long before the first stroke of a hundred lashes was applied. As I whipped him, I just hoped that this new dynamic would be enough to quell his insecurities. We shall see.