Real Life Stories - Entries for September 2009
From Craig M:
Kudos cum laude for a wonderful, well-crafted, and thought-provoking website. Perhaps I have been enjoying it long enough and the time has arrived to give something back; here is a contribution to your real life experiences webpage.
By way of introduction, I am a single male in my forties who was involved in a female-assertive/male-passive relationship for about five years. (In this age of acronyms, may I coin one of my own? Female-assertive/male-passive = FAMP, it will save some typing...). Anna, my partner, was three years my junior. We met by happenstance, while simultaneously vacationing at a resort, and after a long-distance courtship of about two years, I relocated to share her home, and we were briefly engaged to be married. Although our relationship did not become permanent, I thought some of our experiences would be of interest. I have of course changed the names of the players to protect anonymity, and altered some minor details of the experiences to make them more readable. But everything that follows is indeed true.
Embarrassing Moments
Anna was a self-minded and determined person who did not scruple to assert herself, even in the most public of places. Though I doubt she had an innate desire to be sensually dominant, some of the embarrassing situations she created were stimulating, certainly to me, but perhaps to her as well. It may be difficult to understand how the feeling of humiliation can be erotic; how the tunnel vision and sinking feeling of blushing, and the withering feeling of defenselessness, can be arousing. But to some, these feelings can indeed be very exciting and addictive. Among my most memorable experiences are these.
After our courtship became serious, I relocated from my home city to hers, shared her condominium, and took a job that, by chance, was located only mere blocks from hers (the fact that her job paid more was a fact she never hesitated to note, despite my advanced degree and her lack of higher education). Anna was a very controlling person, and as she wanted to monitor my activities to the maximum extent possible, she insisted that I alter my work schedule to coincide with hers (a considerable annoyance to me, as I am an early riser and she was not), and that we commute together. We lived in a major metropolitan area where commuting by mass transit was the only practical means, and hence rode the subway together, twice daily, much of the week. As we lived near the furthest station on the line, seats were always available for the morning commute. Anna would seat herself and insist that I stand before her rather than sit beside her. I was not allowed to read or appear disinterested in her conversation, and if my eyes wandered (particularly in the direction of any attractive woman), she would clear her throat, give a piercing stare, and either tug my necktie or kick my shin (neither playfully nor severely, but merely noticeably).
Each workday she would call or email me several times at the office and loudly demand explanations for any missed calls or delayed responses. She randomly appeared at lunchtime to make certain that I indeed ate my prepared lunch and had no secret female lunch companions. She also insisted that I be waiting for her to arrive at the subway station in the evening for the trip home, promptly at 5:05PM, regardless of what time she actually left her office. Oftentimes, if she ran late, she would ask a homeward-bound female co-worker to find me in the station and remind me to wait for her.
On one occasion, Anna worked considerably late into the evening, and asked her colleague Mary (who lived in our neighborhood) to accompany me homeward. I cannot say whether Mary knew of the true nature of the relationship Anna and I had, but it was clear from her tone of voice that she spoke with the full weight of Anna's direction and expected to be obeyed. Perhaps she thought I was truly a bumbler who could not find his way home without female guidance, or she simply assumed that any long-term boyfriend of Anna's was naturally obedient. But in any case, it was embarrassing to feel the vicarious weight of Anna's presence through Mary. I feared that she would embellish or fabricate stories of recalcitrance on my part, and felt the powerlessness of a child seeking to appease a sadistic baby sitter.
One particularly embarrassing commuter incident stands out in my memory. Our train one evening had become delayed and was waiting at a station with its doors open. As there were no seats available, Anna and I were standing near a doorway in close proximity to many other passengers, including a very attractive woman in her mid-20s who was reading a fashion magazine and seemed oblivious to the delay. The weather was mild, and my curiosity overcame me, so I stepped briefly into the doorway to see if any visible activity outside the train justified our delay. At that moment the train doors closed on me, and I was knocked off balance into our fellow female passenger. Though she was unhurt and seemingly unruffled by this unavoidable transgression of urban life, before I could apologize on my own, Anna seized the moment.
"Look at what you just did" she quipped in a carrying voice. "Why are you so meddlesome? Don't you know the people on this train just want to get home? They don't need you standing in the doorways and delaying them further. And look at what you did to this woman. Now you apologize to her."
"Sorry" I replied, facing the woman. The growing pit in my stomach prevented me from uttering more than one word, and meekly at that. I knew that the conversation was not over, but my role in it certainly was.
"Oh, it's no problem" she cheerfully replied - to Anna, ignoring me completely. "Men are all the same" she said dismissively, and with a cavalier wave of her hand, she returned to her magazine.
"You just wait till I get you home" Anna said. At that moment the walls seemed to close in upon me. I pretended to ignore her, and purposefully avoided the gazes of anyone else on the train, but felt both mortification and dread. The twenty something victim of my imbalance did not raise her head from her magazine, but fought back a smile.
Many submissive males fantasize about total control by a woman, and living in an entirely female-oriented world. That restrained smile put me in that world. Anna's control over me was so complete and obvious that even a casual female bystander could feel empowered by it, and not fear any consequences arising from smirking over my discomfort. Ms. Twentysomething didn't know exactly how I would pay for my transgression that evening, but knew that I would, and that knowledge would undoubtedly be shared at her corporate water cooler the next morning. The unexpectedly firm and public feminine admonishment of male misbehavior she witnessed obviously delighted her. Though I had not planned the incident, I felt in an odd way pleased that my clumsiness, through evoking chastisement, both gave Anna a venue for self-expression, and gave another woman a satisfying moment of emotional conquest.
Homelife
Nowhere was Anna more pedantic than in the home. Although, upon my move to her city, I suggested we mutually agree on a new residence, she dismissed my concerns. Her condominium, she insisted, appealed to her, and thus ought to appeal to me also. She simply felt that the woman in a relationship should have, as is tradition, unfettered authority over all domestic affairs.
I was allowed one bookshelf and half of one closet for my clothes and essential belongings - all the other closets, the dresser, and cabinets were hers alone. I rented a storage unit, to which she held the only key, for the balance of my possessions. She said this was necessary to prevent me from cluttering her living space, spending my money on frivolous things when my focus should be solely on her, and secretly acquiring a stash of pornography. Her private possessions, such as financial documents, were in contrast kept in a locked cabinet to which I had no access.
Financially, she allowed me some freedom, but there were restrictions. Bill payment was by her criteria. Joint bills (such as utilities) were split equally, despite her control over items such as heat and telephone usage. Other bills, such as those for my automobile, were my sole responsibility. Instead of dividing the mortgage, she insisted that I (like her) make a full payment, without receiving any equity in the property, as she felt that I ought to look upon our cohabitation as an enriching experience and not as a financial advantage. She also had strict quality of life demands, such as restaurant meals four times weekly, weekly flowers sent to her office and for the home, weekly gift certificates to department stores near her workplace, and spending criteria (e.g., I had to prove I spent at least $500 per occasion on gifts for Valentine's Day, our anniversary, her birthday, etc). The end result was that I worked almost entirely for her.
Trips to the market were usually embarrassing. Anna would prepare a detailed shopping list and walk briskly through the market as I struggled behind with the shopping cart. When she was finished selecting her items, she would walk home (we lived only one block away) and leave me to stand in line and pay for them. I was also solely responsible for transporting all the items home and putting them away. I was not allowed to add anything to her shopping list - instead, she insisted that I make a separate trip to the market on my own, at a time of her convenience (i.e., when she was out with friends or erstwhile occupied), should I want any food or domestic items of my own choosing. Initially I thought that this policy was a bit harsh but I gradually accepted it. After a short period of lifestyle adjustment on my part, I began to draw strength from Annas firm and unyielding nature, and subtly encouraged her to be even more strict. In a strange way, I found satisfaction in the continually evolving challenge of demonstrating my obedience and willingness to appease her, however absurd her demands could be.
Household chores were similarly regimented. Although I did volunteer to perform all of them, Anna seemed to feel that the household worked better if she delegated chores of her choosing and kept others to herself. For example, she insisted in doing all the cooking and her own laundry, the stated reason being my incompetence at both. Vacuuming, dusting, etc were all done by me, under her supervision, and to a strict schedule. For instance I had to vacuum for at least 30 minutes, move one piece of furniture to vacuum behind on a rotating weekly schedule, scrub the bathroom floor for at least ten minutes, etc. Although Anna was not a nudist per se, she did enjoy being nude in the privacy of the home, and encouraged me to do so also. Prior to our cohabitation she claimed to always do the housework nude, and despite my preference for sweatsuits, she convinced me to go nude also. Anna had a very close relationship with her very attractive and open-minded mother (Joyce) and would frequently chat with her on the telephone while I did the housework. Though I cannot say precisely how many of the details of our relationship Joyce ever knew, during her visits she would always comment on the cleanliness of the home and remark about how well Anna had trained me, and once remarked that it must be pleasant to no longer have to launder any sweatsuits.
Naughty Nylons
Crossdressing is a lifelong activity that I enjoy to this day. I have no female persona, nor a desire to be passable; instead, I simply enjoy the sensuality of feminine attire, and the thrill that the sense of naughtiness at having stretched a cultural boundary provides. I limit my crossdressing to lingerie, shoes, and risque clubwear-type attire, and consider it a relaxing, self-expressive activity that privately frees me from the societal expectations placed on males. Crossdressing is at once both triumphant and submissive. At once I feel the power to assert my own interpretation of gender roles, and the restrictive vulnerabilities that feminine attire provides.
Anna knew of my crossdressing before our relationship solidified but only begrudgingly approved of it. While she viewed my sexual appetite as healthy, and did not overtly doubt my masculinity, she seemed to view crossdressing among straight males as a desire to cheat without cheating - in effect, to be the other woman in the relationship. Since this viewpoint was so anathema to how I felt, I chose to stand my ground. I knew my feelings to be true, and was reluctant to forego the simple pleasures of crossdressing, so I crafted an evening event that I hoped would change her mind.
It was a typical winter Friday evening, early in our then-long distance relationship. I escaped from work early and hopped in my automobile for the drive to her city. The drive was uneventful, and I arrived to a welcoming companion. As was customary, I brought my overnight bag, as we were to spend the weekend together. After a leisurely and satisfying dinner at a local pub, we walked home to her condo for what Anna undoubtedly hoped would be one of our typical evenings of passionate lovemaking. We entered her condo and the door locked behind me with an eerie thud that seemed ominous. Though Anna sensed that nothing but a typical evening together lay ahead, I busied myself with the details of mental preparation for an event that would both expand our boundaries and her preconceived notion of what crossdressing underscored.
She stripped nude, not entirely for sensual reasons, but largely because she simply preferred to be nude around the house, and I did the same. She prepared cocktails, and we sat on the couch together. Soon conversation became affection. I became noticeably aroused, and asked for a moment alone. I went into the bedroom and dug deep into the bottom of my overnight bag for my outfit - a black satin corselette, nylons, studded leather collar with leash, opera gloves, 5-inch stiletto sandals, and a clingy sheer knee-length halter dress. I laced up the corselette, nearly grew faint as I smoothed on the nylons, and was shaking so badly by the time the stilettos went on that I could barely fasten the straps. Finally came the dress, collar, and gloves. I was almost too weak-kneed to balance myself in heels, but once Anna heard the jingling of the leash chain, there was no turning back. I opened the bedroom door, asked Anna if she was prepared to see something different, and strutted over to the couch, handing her the leash chain.
At first Anna seemed shocked and unsure of how to react to the sight of me in a dress, but after a few moments of normal conversation, she grew accepting. She teased me for my trashiness, criticized my inability to walk gracefully in heels or sit properly in a dress, remarked at how disrespectful and unladylike my visibly aroused condition was, and suggested that I needed some discipline. I complied, and brought her a hairbrush she kept handy atop her dresser. I pulled my skirt up to my waist and bent over her knee for several dozen sharp swats. When she finished with me, she sent me red-faced and teary-eyed back into the bedroom to return the hairbrush. Undoubtedly she anticipated some oral pleasure, but I seized the moment, as I was determined to give her a new sort of oral pleasure that evening.
I dispensed with the dress and reached once again into my bag for Annas gift that evening: a black eight-inch strap on. I had purchased the very best I could find, an ultalightweight foam-filled dildo with flanged base and a fearsome leather belt with multiple crotch straps. I brought it to an amazed Anna and helped her secure it, holding it for her to step into, and gently but firmly adjusted the belt and straps. It fit perfectly, and the transformation was immediate. At once, Anna eschewed amusement for aggression.
She walked over to her full-length mirror and studied her profile. The straps massaged her hips, and the belt caressed her waist. The huge black dildo sat triumphantly at a realistic 110-120 degree angle to her body, and bobbed gently as she walked, providing her with mild excitement. She stood mesmerized for a moment, then the cocktail of adrenaline mixed with excitement and curiosity began to take effect.
She reached for her new penis and began to caress it. I aided by providing some personal lubricant. At first I stood behind her with my hands on her hips, but I quickly grew bold. I reached around her, first with one hand, then both, and held her hand in mine as she stroked herself. I was firm, and twisted the dildo slightly as I stroked, enhancing her pleasure. Finally she abandoned her role altogether and reached behind, pulling me closer as she began to moan and writhe. I continued my deep and passionate stroking.
After a few minutes I suggested a change of venue. I motioned her toward the couch, where she sat on the edge, the dildo towering above like a rocket about to launch. I had practiced deep fellatio on the dildo the prior week, and was ready. I knelt before her and grasped the base with my fingers, thoroughly kissing and licking this wonderful symbol of empowerment. Slowly I began to fellate, making certain to move my whole body as I did, so that the dildo base would work its way home and Anna would derive the maximum benefit. She did, and made no secret of it. As I grew more comfortable, I went deeper and deeper, until the entire dildo disappeared. Anna grinned broadly with a mixture of satisfaction and disbelief. Eventually "What a good girl you are" became "Come on, be a good girl...make it disappear now" as she reached behind my head and measured my depth and duration. Soon we both felt the transformation that was taking place, as the dildo became not a toy or curiosity but a serious tool, and symbol of authority.
At what seemed to be the right moment for both of us, I arose and led her by the hand into the bedroom. Once beside the bed, I reached for a generous glob of lubricant, and applied it with my fingertips to her newfound member. Almost instinctively, I laid back on the bed, pulled my legs upward, and pushed my posterior forward for Anna’s use. She climbed atop the bed and knelt before me. I worked with her to position the dildo at a painless angle, and squealed with delight as she penetrated me.
Anna’s remarking "I can’t believe how good this feels" was a good sign that the dildo base had indeed found its sweet spot. After a few minutes, and an obvious moment of ecstasy on her part, I asked her for permission to masturbate. I pulled my legs up well high above my head, and masturbated into my mouth, much to Anna’s giggling delight. "What a great way to save tissues!" was her reply.
Corporal Punishment
Corporal punishment - known to Anna as CP - was a big part of our relationship. Although I initially introduced the idea to her, and she was somewhat reluctant at first, she quickly grew very enthusiastic.
I introduced the idea by bringing home a smooth canelike 36-inch 3/8 inch diameter carpenters dowel and suggested that, since men sometimes act like children, they sometimes need some old-fashioned schoolboy discipline. It worked. Her curiosity overcame reticence, and she soon had me nude, on all fours atop the bed. I encouraged her to be aggressive, and disregard any reaction on my part, but insisted on a safe word until we were both comfortable with each other (she chose 1200, her score on the SAT which was annoyingly above mine of 1160). Though somewhat tame at first, by about the 10th stroke she had worked up enough passion and sexual energy to affirmatively use the cane. I was unsure how much I could really take, or whether she knew to stop before any genuine damage was done, so I used the safe word at about the 25th stroke, by which time I was trembling uncontrollably and crying hysterically. I hugged her and thanked her, and after a few minutes went to look at myself in the bathroom mirror. My bottom was covered with thick red welts and two very prominent bruises. Anna admitted that she did not understand my desire to be caned, but began to feel the power of the cane as it swooshed though the air, and liked it. She also admitted that, while the sight of me in tears was initially distressing, she did enjoy the feeling of power that reducing me to tears gave her.
The experience was both liberating and satisfying. I felt pride in having not only let my guard down, but also awakening at unleashing a part of her psyche that even she was unaware of. I thought it was both healthy and pleasurable for her to know that this option of disciplining me was available to her, whether she chose to use it for sensual reasons or to genuinely discipline me for a wrongdoing. I also took satisfaction from knowing that she now knew that I accepted her in all her moods, and that she had absolute freedom to be a total bitch if her whims suggested. I felt like I had given her a gift, and had the satisfaction of both giving and seeing the gift well-received and used. The bruises and welts were something I was proud of, and I admired them. The next morning I took Anna to breakfast at the local restaurant. Smirking from across the table, she asked me if I was having any trouble sitting. I replied that I was, but that my discomfort was temporary and that the growth in our relationship was permanent.
As our relationship grew and Anna became more comfortable with experimentation, she became more bold. Eventually, Friday evenings (and occasionally Wednesday evenings and Sunday afternoons) became my discipline times.
Fridays were the worst for me. My discipline usually began immediately upon our arrival home after an evening out. When Anna was in her worst humor, if we drove to her eating and drinking establishment of choice, she would slap my face repeatedly in the car after I had parked, so I would be noticeably reddened as we walked from the parking garage to her condo across the street. After we entered the building, if no neighbors were present, she would lead me by my hair or necktie to the front door, and upon entering her unit, either demand that I strip in the entrance foyer, or grab the scruff of my neck and march me to an overstuffed easy chair in her living room. In her most aggressive moods, she would literally throw me over the chair, and return from a brief visit to the master closet armed with both a 36" cane and the 24" paddle she called her board of education.
She didn't believe in warm-ups; she got straight to work, with a ferocity that only seemed to grow with my weak-kneed quivering and teariness. Although I dreaded the exponential agony of the first five or six strokes, the pain stabilized by about the tenth, and as the endorphin kicked in, the pain became a curious pleasure. Control was never a problem for me - by the tenth stroke I usually leaned toward Anna, eager to prove just how much I could take. I gritted my teeth through the first few strokes but usually began crying and whimpering shortly thereafter. Our energies combined to enhance the experience - the more of a whimpering crybaby I became, the more I needed a reason to cry, and the more forceful the strokes became. I was supposed to count my strokes, but usually after about twenty, the intensity of the experience (shrinking peripheral vision and muffled hearing that made me feel as if my head were in a vise) and my hysteria robbed me of my ability to speak with any clarity. The beatings did indeed work. Any recalcitrance or indifference I demonstrated before a beating were replaced with vigorous enthusiasm afterward. I would literally run across the condo to bring her wine, slippers, or whatever she needed, and the passion of my oral worship, foot massages, and so forth were also similarly enhanced. Shy, embarrassed responses to questions were replaced with sharp, audible "Yes Mistress" and "No Mistress" retorts that seemed natural to me.
After a beating I would frequently cling to her. Although Anna perhaps never fully understood the emotional release and curious satisfaction a submissive feels after a punishment session, she did connect the dots and correlate my level of obedience with her level of strictness. Often she would lead me to the bathroom and have me examine my welts, giggling and smiling at what a wimp I was, what I made her do, or what I deserved and could look forward to next time.
Though I was supposed to muffle my squeals and sobs, on some occasions I could not, and we eventually experimented with a ball gag and thigh-to-wrist restraints. Though I cannot say just how much any of the neighbors ever discovered about out lifestyle, a telling moment arrived when our relationship was still a long-distance one, and we inadvertently crossed paths with the couple who occupied the next door condominium (as the units were mirror images of each other, we shared a common bedroom wall with their unit, and a common living room wall with our other neighbor). We met in the local supermarket, and ignoring me totally, our neighbor Janice approached Anna. "We can always tell when your boyfriend is in town" she laughed. Pointing toward me, she added "I'm glad you found a man who knows his place". The weather was balmy, and upon returning home, we pulled back the drapes to discover that the bedroom window crank had jammed and, despite our supposed privacy, the window had been wide open the previous evening. The swooshing cane, whimpering cries, and harsh criticisms of my housework undoubtedly found at least one welcome ear elsewhere. Interestingly, shortly thereafter, a delighted Janice and her grim-faced husband moved to a private home of her choosing. Perhaps the power of suggestion led Janice to discover the benefits of discipline in her own marriage, and she sought a more private space for the use of her own cane.
Anna was not generally creative with games, but on one occasion surprised me. It was a Sunday afternoon and I was busy on the computer when she entered the room, surprisingly dressed in a business suit, and carrying a box that she handed me. In it were a roll of masking tape and a full alphabet set of large cursive letters, the kind that are posted above grammar school chalkboards. She had purchased them on ebay. "Its time for you to decorate the classroom" she quipped. She led me into the living room and had me paste the letters on the living room wall. She then had me strip as she got the cane from the bedroom closet. "Hands on your head" she ordered.
"Stupid, naughty boys like you need severe discipline. What letter is that?" she asked, using the cane to point toward the "A".
"It’s an A" I answered. She stepped aside, and landed the cane firmly on my bottom. "No, you moron, it's a capital A. And what letter is that?" she continued, pointing toward the "B".
Of course, my answer was wrong again (it was a cursive B). Nor was the small "m" small, it was lower case. The L was the letter after K. The W was two v's set next to one another. The S was the first word in spanking, which was what lazy students deserved. And so on, until all 52 upper and lower case letters had been incorrectly identified, and a very proud teacher led her well-disciplined student into the bedroom for some extracurricular activities of her own choosing.
Exhibitionism
Interestingly, Anna loved watching me masturbate, and the more public the setting the better.
On one occasion, we were returning from a Friday evening dinner in town via mass transit. This was by mutual choice, as it was most convenient, and as we both enjoyed imbibing, driving was ill-advised. It was the late evening, and we were two of only three passengers in the last car of our subway train - the other was a lone inebriant, passed out at the far end of the car. The doors closed at an outlying station, and as we were to cross a river, a lengthy distance was to be traversed, and we had several minutes to travel before reaching the next station. Anna knew this and chose to enjoy this moment of semipublic privacy. We sat adjacent a doorway windscreen that blocked any view of my body (besides feet and head) from the adjacent car.
"Jerk off" she quipped.
I gazed back in dumbfounded silence.
"Don't make me repeat myself" was the only reply I got. I got the message and unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. Nervously, I pulled them to mid-thigh level and began to fondle myself. Though the risk and embarrassment of the moment intimidated me, Annas icy stare and commanding presence overcame my fears. She transitioned from a position sitting beside me to one kneeling beside and slightly hovering over me. I had confidence in her guardianship so I focused on my task. When my moment of extasy arrived I stopped briefly, just to ascertain that she really wanted me to complete this exercise, but received only an angry "I didn't tell you to stop". Shortly thereafter I soiled the floor of the train, much to Anna's giggling delight.
On another occasion we were vacationing in a rural state. I was already feeling humiliated as I had forgotten my wallet and ATM cards that day, and as Anna had refused to loan me any cash, I was required to beg her for purchases in-kind (if that doesn't sound embarrassing, consider that we stopped at a Dairy Queen and, in front of a bevy of teenage women, I was denied my request for a hot dog while she indulged in her favorite sundae). She also had the details of the trip planned, kept them to herself, and refused to allow me to bring any maps (as they were too male). Instead she relied on directions and simply told me, the primary driver, where to go.
Late in the day we found ourselves on a lightly-traveled road in a rural area, and chanced upon a clearing. Anna spotted the clearing ahead and told me to stop, and I complied. She opened her door and motioned me to come outside. "Come on, lets go for a walk" she said.
I caught up with her and she led me by the hand into a cornfield, no more than fifty feet from the road, but the corns talks hid us from all angles. She released my hand and gently nudged me several feet away from her. Folding her arms and forming an evil smile, she gave the order "Jerk off".
By now I knew my obligation. "Yes mistress" I politely replied, pulled my pants down, and got to work. After several minutes Anna grew impatient and gave me sixty seconds to complete my task, or finish on her hand for me to lick off. Luckily I adhered to the deadline. She told me the next time she wouldn't be so lenient, and had me fix myself up and return to the car.
On still another occasion, on a westward vacation drive, we paused for the evening in a small city motel of Anna’s choosing (she had timed the trip so that we would arrive in the early evening, and had chosen a motel with an indoor pool, as she was an avid and expert swimmer). By prior arrangement, as we had no children requiring lifeguard oversight in our party, Anna had negotiated after-hours pool access (the pool closed at 7PM, and we arrived around 9PM). Thus we were able to enjoy the pool in relative privacy, a welcome diversion following a daylong drive.
An added bonus was a small hot tub adjacent the pool. As I disdain cold water, I partook of the hot tub as a warmup before a swim. Shortly after enjoying a swim, Anna joined me in the hot tub. Though we were undoubtedly monitored by the front desk clerk via CCTV, the details of any activity in the hot tub would not be noticed so long as we were relatively stealthy. Anna quickly realized this. She sat opposite me and gave the order, "Jerk off". As I presumed relative privacy, I complied. I carefully pulled my swim trunks down to mid-thigh level and began to fondle myself. After achieving a state of arousal, Anna reached into her bathing suit and produced a condom that she surreptitiously passed over to me. I applied the condom and completed my assignment, struggling to keep a straight face so as not to arouse the suspicion of any probing eyes. Afterward, back in the motel room, Anna had me remove the condom in her presence to verify that I had indeed been fully obedient and completed my assignment.
Bitch Ballet
Anna had no aspirations of becoming a professional dancer, but took evening ballet lessons at least twice weekly. Her desire was largely to remain fit and indulge in a hobby. This fit well into our lifestyle, as during these times I was expected to do all my own household chores (such as my own food shopping and laundry) so as to not disturb our joint time at home. Typically, on dancing nights, we would arrive home together, but soon part ways for the evening. Depending upon the time of her lesson, she would either depart home immediately after changing clothes, or sometimes have a light snack before departing.
On several occasions, I drove her to her lessons and waited for her (she refused to allow me to return home and pick her up after her lesson). I had to sit beside the dance floor and maintain eye contact with her at all times, and if she even thought I was daydreaming she would publicly scold me after the lesson. The scoldings, with statements like "I didn't know there was anything in this room more worthy of your attention than I", or "And just where was your mind this evening? Obviously you had better things to think about than I" were nearly always delivered within earshot of her friend and classmate Sarah, an always well-coiffed and tanned businesswoman, who obviously approved. Sarah was stunning, a self-made executive at a shoe company, drove a Z3 sports car, and always viewed me with a devious and probing smile. Well in her forties, she had a mature, commanding presence that naturally demanded respect, and was softly spoken but sensually powerful. Given Anna’s difficulty with keeping secrets, it is highly likely that Sarah knew all the details of my role in our relationship. Secretly, I fantasized about being loaned to Sarah, not in a sexual context, but simply because she seemed so naturally domineering. I dreamed of a morning spent moving her lawn, cleaning her house, and washing her car, followed by an afternoon do tingly carrying her purchases around the mall and being attentive in every way. Certainly she would find fault with me and punish me; Anna, noticing whatever marks Sarah left on my behind, would add her own as punishment for having disappointed her friend.
When she chose her own transportation to her dance lessons, Anna made good use of my time home alone. We experimented with chastity devices, and eventually owned an Access Denied/ Tollyboy style belt. The belt fit well and was very exciting to wear, but was simply too cumbersome for everyday use. I was very intrigued by the notion of a 24/7 chastity device, but unfortunately this was before the Curve/CB-3000 was available, and Anna would not allow me the time or resources to craft my own (I am a competent machinist and could have easily done so). Frequently, Anna would lock me up before leaving for her class, just in case I had a desire to satisfy myself in her absence. She was playful in other ways as well. On occasion, she would lock me into a latex catsuit I owned (locking the zipper to a collar), tether me by ankle cuff or collar to a screw eye I installed in a beam in the living room (I made a tether from flexible, coated aircraft control cable that allowed noiseless motion throughout the condo, but not as far as the front door), have me strip nude and lock all clothing (including laundry) out of my reach in the bedroom, and call home using her cellphone repeatedly throughout the evening and give me one cane stroke for every ring beyond the first per call. In cases where I was locked up or away from clothing, I had access to an emergency key, sealed in a custom-printed stationery envelope from her workplace that I could not replace if opened.
Though I previously commented that Anna was not particularly fond of my crossdressing, she did on a few occasions direct me to wear my "best outfit" (the chastity belt with pantyhose and one of her bras) under my street clothes when we went to dinner, and she also allowed me to do the housework in a full maids costume, including a crinoline, on my birthday and some very special, selected occasions. Though she did not relish the sight of me in feminine attire, she did occasionally remark that she appreciated the attentive and obedient mindest it seemed to create for me.
As previously noted, the relationship Anna and I had ultimately failed. There is always, in such cases, no shortage of blame to be levied, and little can be gained from doing so. There were obviously foibles, miscommunications, and some bad behavior along the way, but my desire in penning this narrative is to reflect on the good while simultaneously inspiring others, as others have inspired me.
Elise’s Response:
Thank you, Craig for sharing these experiences. You are so blessed to have had this relationship with Anna. Even though the relationship did not last, your life has been greatly enriched from your experiences with Anna.
I love how she dominated you on the subway. I tell people all the time how Female Domination can take the mundane activities in life and make them exciting (and even a form of prolonged fore-play). I love how she would control you and dominate you by making you stand before her while she sat on the train, having you focus your attention on her during the ride. I bet every time she corrected you by clearing her throat caused you to have a slight twinge in your penis.
Women can learn from Anna. Nagging a guy about not gawking at other women in public is counter productive and will only drive a man to look around even more. It is the old forbidden fruit syndrome. But when you add FemDom to the equation like Anna did, it touches a man’s submissive nature and now he will want to obey his Mistress as he enjoys knowing that he is not allowed to gawk at other women, otherwise he will be corrected and possibly even punished.
I loved how she made you keep eye-contact and mental focus on her on the subway and during her dance classes. Those are excellent training exercises as they taught you to realize that she was the center of your Universe. Anna obviously cared deeply for you but she also knew that you were blessed to be in a relationship with her. She knew she was a Goddess who was worthy of your devotion and obedience and she expected and demanded nothing less than your full devotion.
You were clever and bold with how you introduced Anna to such FemDom activites as strap-on play, corporal punishment and of course your desire to crossdress. She was a novice and thus a little uncertain about these activities but she trusted you and went along because she loved you. However, it did not take long for her dominant nature to grab a hold of this lifestyle and to run with it. You may have dictated the scenes in the beginning while Anna was learning and getting her feet wet but it didn't take her long to realize the power of FemDom. Many women (even those who are aggresive and outgoing by nature) start out hesitant, unsure and even shocked as they are first contronted with a man's desire to be sexually dominated in the bedroom. But once the inhibitions are overcome through exploration and experimentation, the dominant female comes to enjoy FemDom even more than the submissive male who introduced her to this lifestyle. As you experienced with Anna, her creativity was unleashed and she no doubt looked forward to her discipline and domination sessions with you. It gave her more power and more control over you and the relationship, which was what she wanted all the time.
I am sorry the relationship didn't last but like I said, your life has been greatly enhanced due to your relationship with Anna. I hope you can find another woman as dominant as Anna. Just make sure that you don't expect another woman to be Anna. Each woman has her own style and each woman will embrace FemDom in her own way. As you learned with Anna, you might have to be creative and wise in how you introduce this lifestyle to a woman but ultimately it will be her decision as to how she wishes to express her female authority over your life. Take care.
From Stefani M:
Dear Elise, I am a 38 year old pre-op transsexual named Stefani M. I became a transsexual primarily due to a female Dominant that I met when I was in my early 20's. Although I no longer see Her, we still talk approximately once a year. When we do, she never fails to remind me, "I made you who you
are today." Which is true.
To explain my story...
When I met Mistress Marlena she was a professional Dominatrix and I was a young male newspaper reporter fresh out of college. When I met her I was a handsome young man, and a bit of a run-around, dating several girls at once.
She told me she was an ex-school teacher, in her early 40's, Jewish, very intelligent, very articulate, very imaginative, and quite Dominant. We met at a party, where she intrigued me immediately because of the way she was dressed, which was all in black. She was not exceptionally pretty, she
had a weight problem that she struggled with, large breasts that she hid, but she had beautiful, long curly brunette hair, and an incredibly strong, no-nonsense attitude that I found intoxicating. As I've always been drawn to strong people I was attracted to her immediately.
Marlena sized me up right away and told me that I was a submissive. Macho male that I thought I was, I told her she was crazy. She thought I was cute, and ended up taking me home. As we sat in her living room on her couch, she told me she could spot a submissive male a mile away, and that she could Dominate me completely if she chose to. All she had to do, she said, was snap her fingers, and she could get me to do anything she wanted.
She said that I acted macho to hide the fact that inside I was really quite the opposite. I told her I didn't agree, and that she had no idea what she was talking about. She smiled, and with a twinkle in her eyes, asked if she wanted a demonstration of her power. Undaunted, I said, sure. She said quite simply, "Get up and take off all your clothes." I gulped, but found myself doing exactly what she wanted! I stood, and slowly stripped. Once I was naked, I could feel the balance of power shift. I felt vulnerable in a way I'd never felt before. She told me that because I'd doubted her I deserved to be punished, and bent me over her lap, and she administered my first over-the-knee spanking. As she did so, she had me count them out.
That first time she only gave me 10 swats, which was light by Marlena's standards, but this was all new to me, and everything she did was having the desired effect. As she spanked me, she also gently caressed my bare buttocks, driving me crazy with lust. She told me that she used discipline as a daily part of her routine to train males. She said she started out by using her bare hand, and worked up to 50 swats. As the submissive became used to the punishment she began using a paddle. She had a dozen different paddles, everything from ping pong paddles to ones covered with pointed silver studs. Once the submissive got used to the various paddles she began using a switch and then a cane. All of which I was introduced to over the next two years.
When she was done spanking me, she noted that I was quite aroused. She chuckled and told me she wanted me to masturbate. I was shocked! I'd never done such a thing before in front of a woman. She told me it was that, or I would have to get dressed and leave. She explained to me her basic premises, "Either I did exactly what she wanted at all times, or I'd be punished, or I'd be shown the door." That time, I got dressed and left, but in the future, I got so worked up by the things she did to me, that eventually I did masturbate in front of her. It was the only release she ever allowed me.
My relationship with Mistress Marlena began like that and increased in intensity very slowly. We spoke on the phone quite a bit, and not long after our first meeting she asked me to come over and sit in the next room while she was disciplining a new slave. She had the spare room of her house turned into a dungeon, and said she liked to have someone in the house just in case something went wrong, as a safety precaution. After the slave left she was in a heightened mood, and did some playing with me... putting me into bondage, clothes pins on my nipples, and weights on my cock... things like that. All of which were very new, and very exciting to me.
The next week she asked me if I'd come by and watch her do a session with one of her regular submissives. She said he would pay her an extra $100 for the added humiliation of having someone watch - and she'd split it with me, giving me $50. I was so curious just to watch, I readily agreed. When I arrived he was already blindfolded, chained to a post, and Marlena was whipping him. At the end of the session I witnessed something Marlena would later do to me as well. She told him he had 10 seconds to masturbate. If he didn't cum in 10 seconds he'd have to get dressed and leave. She
counted backwards... 10... 9... 8... by the time she hit 4, the man groaned and squirted his semen. Marlena chuckled. She loved feeling that she had that kind of power over men, that she could just snap their fingers and her submissives would orgasm on command.
The more I got to know Marlena, I could tell she had a little bit of a crush on me. I was young and cute, while most of her paying slaves were older, married men, the type who could not discuss their fantasies with their wives, so they paid Marlena $150 an hour to live out their desires. All of it was done safely. Marlena never had sex with anyone. She might put them into bondage or beat them, but she never let them touch her. It was the same for me as well. As we began dating, no matter how much I begged or pleaded, she never let me see her naked body, let me touch her, or make love to her. Eventually I was able to see her nude, and I was able to touch her, specifically to service her orally, but not once did she ever let me penetrate her. That was forbidden, and I got the impression it wasn't something she particularly fancied, mostly because she said it put the male into a dominant position, something she would never allow.
One day, she took me to a woman's clothing store, threw me into a changing booth, and came back with an armload of dresses. She had me strip down to the pair of women's panties she'd instructed me to wear, and began giving me dresses to try on. None of which fit. She told me to remain undressed, and that she would be back. When she returned, it was with a middle-aged saleswoman who carried a measuring tape. I was mortified!
Marlena grinned at my embarrassment and said the woman was going to get my measurements so she could figure out my dress size. The saleswoman said not to worry and began taking my measurements. They declared I was a size 10, and Marlena went out and came back with some more dresses. Eventually we settled on a little black cocktail dress, the first of many that I now own.
When we returned to her house, Marlena sat me down and did my hair and makeup, then I got dressed in a bra, pantyhose, heels, and new dress. When Marlena finally let me look at myself in the mirror, I was stunned! I felt like I was seeing the true me for the first time. It was as if the real person inside me had been let loose. I wanted to just stare at myself in the mirror all night, but Marlena insisted that we go out. Out!? I was terrified about the idea of going out of the house dressed as a woman. But Marlena insisted, and one did not argue with Marlena. So we drove around in her car for an hour. Just to work my nerves pulled through a McDonald's drive-thru window. I wanted to melt into the seat. My nervousness amused her greatly.
So it began. From that moment on, I began dressing more and more like a woman. She bought more women's clothes for me, I grew my hair out, all of which I found very exciting. Marlena bought me lingerie to wear to bed, and eventually brought a strap-on into our relationship. All of which I loved.
She started it all slowly, first with butt plugs that she made me wear when I went to work. I admit, I cheated. I'd take them out when I got out in my car, and put them back in before I came home, but they had the desired effect. Eventually when Marlena began using her strap-on when we were in bed, I felt like my whole orientation was changing. I no longer cared about playing the masculine role with the young women I was dating. Marlena had wanted me to stop dating other girls (all of whom were younger and much prettier than Marlena), and at first I resisted. But Marlena was clever.
When she'd make love to me with her strap-on she'd whisper into my ear, "The next time you're in bed with Lydia, you're going to be thinking of me... fucking you... and you're not going to be able to get it up." Which all came true. I became dysfunctional with other women, and stopped seeing them. The once macho man, the "runaround" as Marlena called me, had become a completely sissified male.
Marlena had me do more and more in her sessions with her slaves. She even made me orally service some of them. I was the playtoy of a very popular and successful professional Dominatrix. For two years I lived the life that many men must fantasize about, but for me, it was all real.
During that time Marlena used to say, "I'm not going to fall in love with you, because eventually you're going to leave me for a man." Which eventually came true. After about two years, I met a man in a gay club, and left Marlena to move in with him. I lived with him for 6 years, and then we broke up. Over those years I started taking female hormones and living more fully as a woman.
Unable to get work while I was in transition, I took the lessons I'd learned from Marlena and prostituted myself, to the tune of $300 an hour to various men.
Did I become the way I am today because of Marlena, or was it inside of me all the time? Am I a true transsexual or am I the product of a Dominant woman? I'm not 100% sure.
Over time I got sick of men. Sick of them wanting me only for their sexual gratification. About a year ago I met another Dominant woman, this one not a pro, but like Marlena, older than me, in her early 50's. She is not as sadistic as Marlena was sometimes, and treats me in a loving, but firm manner. She uses a paddle on me, and a strap-on, which I have come to love more than a man's penis. For one thing, my girlfriend Heather's strap-on never cums prematurely, it never tires, and it comes in various sizes.
She's an incredibly skillful lover. I've been with many men, and there is no question in my mind that Heather is better than them all. She loves teasing me. In the morning when I wake she'll tease me to an erection (no easy feat on hormones), then as I get close to orgasm, she'll stop. She'll tease me like that throughout the day. After lunch she'll tell me she wants to take a little nap and tease me to within an inch of orgasm, and stop. By which point I am begging her for release. She can tease me like that for hours, sometimes for an entire weekend. In the end she'll take me with one of her strap-ons, and when she says I'm allowed, will let me touch myself to cum to an orgasm. She's toyed with the idea of using a chastity device on me, and we've explored them, but so far we have not actually used one. All I can say is that I feel lucky to have such a strong, skillful lover.
All that I have written is true. I'm not a stunning beauty, and I don't want to sound vain, but I am able to pass a lot better than most crossdressers. I owe most of that to 5 years of electrolysis and 8
years on hormones.
When I visited your site, and read some of the stories I just thought I would contribute mine. I know it's rather long. If you like I can shorten it, or fine tune it to focus on something specific if you like. I work as a writer for an advertising agency, so writing comes easy to me.
Thank you for your time and for such a wonderful site.
PS. I found you through your book, which Heather gave me to read. She loves it.
Elise’s Response:
Stefani, it sounds like your sex life has been one of exploration and experimentation as you have tried to come to terms with your true nature. I am sorry to hear that you had to prostitute yourself out to men while you were trying to discover who you really were but thankfully you have finally found a woman who understands you and who has shown you what loving female authority is all about.
It seems to me that you are not gay but rather you desired and needed loving female authority. Your first Mistress had tremendous power over you and she basically pushed you into your life of homosexuality as she feminized you and had you interact sexually with some of her male clients. In a way, your initial journey into homosexuality was a form of female domination as you were doing what your Mistress demanded of you, thus it satisfied your submissive nature. As long as a woman was ordering you and training you to be a woman, you enjoyed it because of your submissive nature. But once you got away from her and embarked on your own sexual journey, you found that your sexual interactions with men was not fulfilling.
Therefore, I would say that you are not gay but you are a submissive male who has a need to be feminized by a dominant woman. You want to be in submission to a woman and the cross-dressing is an act of domination and submission, where you are exploring the feminine with the guidance of a woman. Being feminine is exciting to you in the context of female domination.
It sounds like Heather is meeting your needs, both sexually and emotionally. So embrace your new Mistress and allow her to continue to teach you about loving female authority. Keep your sexual exploration confined to her and her training. The temptation will be there to return to the Gay scene as your sexual experiences with men will have a hold on your psyche. But that life will never be fulfilling to you because by your own admission, what you truly desire is female domination. Channel your sexuality into the service of your Mistress and submit to her loving female authority. Best wishes.
From Shelley K:
My husband and I set out on our controlled chastity journey as we like to call it almost 3 years ago. It all came about when we were giggling away in a sex toy store we visited while on vacation.
There we came across a “penis cage” which we both laughed at. Then an assistant came over to ask if he could help. I asked him if these things were popular. He was very straight about it and said that it was mostly the women who were interested and a lot of men were horrified at the prospect that their crown jewels might be locked up! However he said that it was popular toy with some people. I said I thought we should get one for fun. Jim was less sure so we didn’t go ahead with a purchase.
Later on that night though I thought about it more. We have always had a great sexual relationship and care very much for each other. We are not jealous of each other, far from it. Jim is a very good lover though there are occasions when I have felt he had had his fun and then lost interest leaving me unfulfilled.
Another issue for me was that he was always jerking off secretly. I caught him a few times and he insisted that he hardly ever did. I always had that feeling he did it much more than he said. A wife knows.
So I thought this cage could be a way to take just a little control and also have some fun. Next day I went onto the internet to check it out and to my astonishment, discovered a world of information about cages, chastity belts and chastity. I had always assumed chastity belts were for women but no, it seems it is actually now more about men. I read testimonials from many men and women some saying how it had revitalized their lives, and several saying that it had been used to control jerking off. That decided me.
So I snuck off telling Jim I was out to buy clothes – that is a certain way to be sure he would not accompany me – and I went back to the store. I bought my little present and took it back for a real good look. I read the instructions, all about how you needed to introduce the cage over a period of time to get the correct combination of rings and spacers. It also pointed out the problems associated with early morning rises, but that these generally settled down.
That night in bed Jim asked me what I had bought. I guess he was curious as usually I show him all my prizes and as I hadn’t he probably assumed I had bought some new item of lingerie for a special occasion. I took my chance and produced the cage. He was clearly a bit startled, but I immediately reassured him that this would lead to some real interesting fun. I said we should try it on right now.
I took the biggest ring, placed it round Jim’s balls and then put the cage on his dick and snapped the padlock shut. I had already hidden the keys so I was in control! The excitement soon began to show and he was soon straining in the cage. “Right,” I said, “I’ll release you when you have given me your full attention”. Jim was real attentive, spending so much time pleasuring me. Not being able to hold his dick was a slight downside for me but I was able to lie there and being pleasured and given so much attention. It was also exciting holding the cage feeling his hard straining balls but mostly I lay back and let it all happen.
Eventually I had a huge orgasm. After I’d recovered I took pity on him, released him. He was soon inside me and came with a rush!
We talked about it next day and he admitted it had felt real good. We might have some fun with that, I told him. I suggested he should try it out and get used to it. I gave him the instructions to read and a spare key so he could release himself if needs be.
Then I didn’t push it for a while. About a week after returning home, after we had intercourse, I casually said he should wear the cage overnight to see how he got on. He was reluctant at first but eventually he put it on as he could see I was keen. That night he was restless and early in the morning I heard him get up and go to the bathroom and he came back without it on. Next morning he said he didn’t think it would work. I pointed out that the instructions said it was important to get used to it, and that night I made him try again. He succeeded in keeping it on all night and I released him in the morning. Over the next few days things settled down and he was able to sleep through eventually. At this stage he was only wearing it at nights but then I decided he should wear it daytime as well. Again he was reluctant but went along with me.
I think what helped was that our sex life was better than ever. I don’t think I had ever enjoyed myself so much and Jim was also very happy – he had he admitted never had so much sex in his life. No longer did he let me go to bed by myself ever. He was up there with me each night. But I knew this was likely to be a phase and things would need to be shaken up now and then to avoid routine and staleness. I was really enjoying things but I had got a taste and wanted greater control. So I experimented with keeping him locked for a couple of days at a time.
Then after about six weeks I called for a review. I said that our sex life had gotten even better and he agreed. Now I wanted to make the cage a more permanent force and this was really something I wanted to do. I think I was a bit surprised that he didn’t put up much of a fight but he asked a lot of questions about how long it might be and when he would get relief. That depended on him I said but I would make sure I looked after him. I told him we would hold a review after 3 months and even entered it on the schedule!
So that weekend I gave him the night of his life. I dressed in his favorite outfit, cooked him his favorite food, treated him like a King, my King. Every little pleasure he particularly liked I gave him ending with a huge bj. Then I locked him and handed him the spare key sealed in a package which I signed
across the seal. He asked how long he was to be locked for but I declined to tell him – actually I had no idea. Eventually, it was about 10 days before I got the key out and released him. I told him I was his to use how he pleased and he didn’t need a second invitation. He was rampant, demanding intercourse at all times of the day and the night. Boy, did we both have a good time!
But one week later I was taking the laundry to the store, when I heard him moaning through the open door of the bedroom. I glanced through the crack and could see him on the bed jerking off. I went downstairs, took out the cage and placed it on the table. He came down a little later. I just looked at him, pointed to the cage and told him to put it on. He asked if I meant now and I told him “Right now!” He could see I was serious and I stood and watched as he put the cage on. I came across and snapped the lock shut. I told him he had been jerking off and this was his reward. He started to say something but I cut in and told him not to lie as I had watched him through the door.
I kept him locked for almost a month. It would have been longer but I took pity on him as it was his birthday. But the next day I locked him again. After two weeks one morning I got my key out and waited for him to come downstairs. I unlocked him and told him he could jerk off but to be back in half an hour. I didn’t intrude on him but he was back and soon locked again.
At the 3 month review, I asked for his reaction first. He said that it was very frustrating not being able to ejaculate whenever he wanted but that it was also exciting being deprived. He said he enjoyed pleasuring me and not having to worry about himself and if he might cum too soon. I laughed at that and told him in the past he often came first and then lost interest. He protested but I think he knew I was correct. I asked him if he would continue with things the way they now were and he agreed he would do it for me. I pointed out that it meant him submitting to me and he agreed to that. Then I said we would mark the occasion the next week.
For that I wrote a little ceremony with questions and responses – I had gotten it from the internet and adapted it for us. I also found a certificate which I printed out affirming my control. We were both naked and as a final act I jerked him off, before affixing the cage and we both signed up.
Now we are 2 years on and we continue with our wonderful sex life. At times I release him for a period, maybe just a night, at others just to jerk him off or for him to jerk himself off. I do enjoy penetration and release him for that at times, locking him up immediately after. Sometimes I insist that he does not cum but inevitably most times there are accidents and anyway I enjoy him bursting with ejaculation. Of course sometimes I use it as an excuse to lock him for failing but that is just an excuse. I also purchased a harness and dildo which is designed to fit over the cage and with straps around the cage so he can penetrate me. That works real well.
During that time a few people have come to learn of our little secret. The first was my sister-in-law, Lauren, whom I share most things with. It took a while for me to broach the subject but she was amazed. I did it when Jim was unlocked so that I could show it to her. She loved it and was all for getting one for Jim’s brother Randy. But she did not think he would agree – she is still working on it! The next thing was she wanted to see it in place – that was easy and I locked Jim up in front of her. He was very embarrassed, poor Hun, but took it very well. From then on when she was alone with us she would grab him and joke ‘Well I see you are locked’ and laugh. One time though, he was unlocked and she went bright red as she discovered! She apologized to me immediately but we all laughed about it.
Next to discover was a dear friend who came over one day to help me clean after I had sprained my wrist. Jim has left the cage on the side by his sink, something he never normally did. He had been in a rush that morning and was concerned about me, so I guess he made a mistake. Anyway Anne-Marie had been in the bathroom and must have found it. She came down with an amused smile on her face and I asked her what that was for. She wouldn’t tell me, but when I went upstairs, there was the cage sitting beside Jim’s side of the bed perched on the side table. The bed light had been turned on and was directed towards the cage like a spotlight!
I went down and said to Anne-Marie “so you found it!’ She laughed and wanted to know everything. So I told her, showing her the certificate, explaining how things worked. She was fascinated and she too wanted one! She got real enthusiastic and she said that the ceremony we had held wasn’t really ‘official’ and we should re-affirm in front of witnesses such as her and Lauren. Then she added that there should be at least one man present! It’s a good idea and I’m working on that one though I am not sure how Jim would react!
There have been others I have told out secret to but they have been strangers on holiday and such. But in every case the women have thought what a great idea it is and how much they’d like to do the same!
Like everything there can be downsides. I do love to be penetrated and sometimes have to resist my own urges and not unlock him. But I will do should I so wish. I have many toys which help and his strap-on really does the business! When I think back to before, I realize that a high proportion of our sex was non-penetrative anyway. Maybe I am trying to justify it to myself but the benefits far out weigh any loss in this matter.
Another benefit from restricting him is his reaction when I do release him! Sometimes I tell him that he will be unlocked for say just 3 days, and does he go for it! Boy. it’s like it’s the last time in his life! I have never enjoyed his pleasure as much.
And we have solved the jerking off! That is strictly controlled. All things considered, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Elise’s Response:
Shelley, I love how you got Jim accustomed to the chastity device in stages. You were mindful of his needs and you eased him into longer and longer periods of time. As you have discovered, male chastity can lead to many other FemDom activities and increase the woman’s sexual fulfillment.
I also find the response of your sister-in-law and female friend to be interesting. I think as more and more women learn about male chastity, more and more women will want to experiment with it in their own marriages and relationships. A lot of women are just like you were when they see a chastity device in a sex store or on the internet. They are curious but they doubt the practical application of such a device.
However, as more women share with other women the benefits and the practicality of male chastity, women will want to try it in their own relationships. There is something about male chastity that appeals to the female nature and once the benefits are learned, I think male chastity devices will become a very hot selling item. People who produce quality chastity devices are going to do very well in the years to come. Thank you so much for sharing your experience.
From Lee F:
Dear Elise, Like many sexually submissive men, my very first sexual fantasies (about age 10-11) involved me being forcibly stripped naked, whipped and sexually abused by beautiful dominant females. I even partially acted out some of these fantasies by hanging naked from a Tarzan swing in the woods and pretending a woman was whipping me. Why I had these fantasies is a mystery, since at that age I had never had any sexual contact with women, and had never even been physically punished by my mother.
Unlike many sexual submissives, I started “dating” very early (5th grade), and was always “going steady” with the best looking girls in school from the 6th grade on. (The future Miss Florida was my date to the senior prom.)
We did a lot of French kissing, petting, and stuff like that, but I Never actually had intercourse until age 17. After all those years of hot and heavy making-out without intercourse, I have to admit that actual intercourse proved to be somewhat of a let down. It was definitely less sexually stimulating than hours and hours of making-out without intercourse had been.
After getting out of the army at age 21, I was dating almost every night of the week. My seduction techniques involved either conning girls into letting me give them full-body nude baby oil massages (a long story), or getting them to act out their (and my) sexual fantasies via high stakes games of “Consequences”.
Both techniques were first or second date seduction strategies that Almost always resulted in submissive-male “sex” for me. Although, truth is, I didn’t really understand that it was “submissive sex” on my part until after reading your most excellent book. At the time I thought it was just easy ways to “con” sexy women out of their clothes and into bed.
Since intercourse didn’t excite me all that much, but giving beautiful naked women oil massages, and playing “Consequences” games (where the loser had to do whatever “ordered”) did sexually excite me, I was having lots of exciting submissive-male sex whether I had intercourse or not.
Eventually I met my wife Starr, who won my heart and soul by hog-tying me naked in the gravel drive of my rural Florida ranchette, and leaving me there all night while she slept comfortably in my bed. That was the “consequence” she demanded of me when she won the game. I expected her to have a change of heart after and come out after an hour or so and untie me, like most girls would, but she didn’t. It was daylight before she finally came out and cut me loose. Starr being that strict was a sexual turn-on, and caused me to have a lot of respect for her inner strength.
We were married 4 months later, and from then on played “Consequences” often. That’s a game I invented where we both ante up $100 and play one hand of poker. The winner gets to order the loser to perform or submit to anything they want (with very few limitations). Usually something scary or sexual is demanded. If the loser refuses to perform or submit, the ante is forfeited and the winner gets to use it for anything they want (in our case, a mini-vacation away from home as a “single” the following weekend.)
Since Starr is a beautiful, sexy, 5’3”, 120, 36-26-37, blue eyed, Natural blonde, and at that time I was extremely jealous, I would do anything to keep her from vacationing as a “single”. Therefore, I never refused to submit or perform “legal” consequences no matter what!
I had long convinced myself that playing “Consequences” was merely exciting sexual “fun & games”, and never once considered myself sexually submissive. But my darling wife realized the truth, and was intentionally and secretly using the game to condition me over time to submit to her latent FemDom sexual nature.
As I’m sure you understand, our D/s sex games naturally got more daring and demanding with time and experience. The result was that sexually humiliating, painful and scary activities I would never have dreamed of performing or submitting to years before, began to be acceptable. Actually more than acceptable, they became sexy, fun and exciting. In essence, the “game” conditioned me over time to willingly embrace female sexual authority and submit to my wife‘s orders. Which was an extremely difficult transition in my case, since I had always been an exceptionally macho male on the outside.
Eventually “playing games” stopped and my wife just took control, without me really knowing exactly when or how it happened. We began to sign yearly D/s marriage contracts that needed to be changed a little each year as we stumbled along via the trial and error method in an attempt to determine what worked and what didn’t. We could have really used your book back then, as it would have no doubt saved us years of wrong turns!
I mentioned that I use to be excessively jealous. That was my biggest stumbling block to submitting totally to Starr. In hind sight, it is my opinion that a wife isn’t “really” the boss if her husband is allowed to control her sex life in any way. My wife somehow understood that, and decided to put an end to my unreasonable jealousy and sexual control.
She did this by forced cuckolding. We were on a wilderness big game hunting trip involving Starr and me and two of my old high school buddies when it happened. Each of us took nightly showers outside by washing under a hanging shower bag filled with hot water. After our showers we had to immediately run naked back inside the 10x12 wall tent where it was warm to dry off. This resulted in Starr being totally naked around all the guys, and vice versa.
After her shower the first night in camp she asked me to give her a Baby powder massage (which I usually did every night back home) and lay down naked on top of her sleeping bag. One of the other guys jokingly asked if he could give her the massage instead, and to my surprise she said, “sure”. So there I was, jealously watching my buddy giving my sexy wife a long, slow, sensuous full body massage, front and back. Not wanting to make a scene, since we all had to live together in the same tent for another week, I didn’t object very much.
To me, the massage seemed to take ”forever”. Bart was obviously enjoying it, as was Starr. In fact, it took so long that the 3rd guy (Ed) got tired of watching and fell asleep. Eventually my wife and Bart both got inside her sleeping bag (the wood stove had gone out and it was getting cold) and started kissing and making-out, with me watching not 2 feet away. After a while Starr ordered me to roll over and face the tent wall and go to sleep.
Sleep? With her naked and making-out with a naked guy right next to me? There was no way I could sleep. But trying to be the obedient husband she obviously wanted me to be, I did roll over as ordered, and lay there (consumed by jealousy) listening to all the kissing and panting sounds. I was consumed with jealousy but I chose to submit to my wife.
We had a private argument the next day but she put me in my place and I backed down to her authority. Since then Starr has cuckolded me with other men. She always involves me in some way but I no longer have any say-so or control over what she does sexually.
My jealousy (on a scale of 1-10) is now a “2“, where it used to be a “10“. Looking back, I truly believe cuckolding made our marriage better since I could never have become the true submissive Starr wanted without being forced to submit to cuckolding. It cured my jealousy, increased my submission, freed Starr from my sexual control, and I’m a better husband for it.
I’ve come a long way since that hunting trip. We’ve been married 25 years, but it was only about 15 years ago that Starr took over completely. I could go on forever with stories of our many exciting D/s sexual games and adventures, but instead I’ll just explain where we are now. She is the absolute sexual “Boss” of the family. Period. (But, lucky for me, she is a loving Boss.)
Thanks in large part to your book, she is more dominant and I’m more submissive now than ever before. Which is good. And best of all it’s 100% real, instead of part “fantasy games” like it use to be. We are very close and still in love after 25 years of a loving D/s marriage, which I suspect very few vanilla couples can say these days. And the deep psychological D/s insights that your book provided, have made our love-bonds even stronger.
Elise’s Response:
Cuckolding is risky because most men don’t know they are the jealous type until the situation presents itself. A man may tell his wife that he wants her to cuckold him because the fantasy excites him, but until he is faced with the reality that his wife is having sex with another man, he has no way of knowing whether he will be able to submit to her sexual liberation. Emotions can react much differently when faced with reality.
You found out in a hurry that your heart contained much more jealousy than you ever imagined. I don’t know how many men could endure the humiliation of watching their wife having sex with a close male friend. She really challenged your submission, but to your credit, you chose submission over jealousy and thus your wife has broken you of jealousy, she has freed you of that jealousy and it no longer eats at you or haunts you the way it once did.
Starr sounds like a free spirit, a beautiful spirit, and it is her free spirit that attracted you to her. Her wild, uninhibited nature is what you found to be attractive. Her willingness to play those games with you, to press your limits, to challenge your inhibitions, is what aroused you the most. Her dominance is intertwined with her free spirit and you find both her dominance and her free spirit to be arousing. She touches you at your core, she has freed your submissive nature which was there since your childhood but was confined by your machismo. Starr has broken you of that and she has freed your true nature. Now you are happy and content being the servant to such a lovely and free spirit. Had you tried to break her by being jealous, had you tried to reel her in, had you tried to suppress her free spirit, you would have lost her, you would have driven her away, or worse, you would have changed her and thus what makes Starr who she is would have been diminished. But by submitting to her, you have completed her, you have allowed this beautiful, free spirit to shine.
Finally, your little idea of using a game such as “consequences” was no doubt clever but hardly original. A lot of submissive men have tried to use games, bets and challenges to try to get a woman to dominate them. The old “the loser of this bet will have to do whatever the other says for a week” has been tried many times by men, some with success and some not so successful. But at least they are trying, at least they are putting some feet to their submissive desires and in your case, it worked because you found that special dominant woman who was a perfect match for your submissive nature. Take care.
*** Note - More Real Life Experiences in the September/October Edition of "Predominant 2009"
