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TRAINING A SUBMISSIVE MALE

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My wife Linda and I have what is called an `alternative
relationship’ – she has taken a lover on the side, and I have
become their cuckold. She would probably state it differently –
she has allowed me to be present “on the side”, while her lover,
John, has become the subject of her exclusive sexual focus. I am
by their grace allowed to live in the same house. My identity
has been transformed from her manly husband to her subservient
cuckold, starting with my alternative sleeping arrangements and
associated lack of sexual access, continuing with my repeated
humiliation at their hands and extending to my relinquishing of
financial independence (I am given money to spend in small
amounts and only when she approves). She forces me now to dress
like a woman.
Recently, Linda caught me peeping at her and taking obscene
upskirt pictures, including some when she wasn’t wearing panties,
and other up-close pictures of her privates while she was
sleeping. Further investigation revealed that I’ve stolen some
of her panties from her drawers, masturbated into them and then
hidden them in my closet. When she discovered the stash, she
picked up one of her favorite black Victoria’s secret briefs that
had been missing for several weeks, turned it inside out and
exclaimed, “Just look at this. It’s all crusty! Have you been
jacking off into my panties? How could you?” I smiled and
brushed it off. She complained immediately to her lover who
laughed at first also, but later found it offensive himself.
She told me she wanted to see the pictures. I refused. He
pointed to the computer and demanded to see the pictures. I had
to comply as they watched me bring them up. She suspected that I
was not bringing up all the pictures, took over control of the
computer and did a search to find the hidden files. My wife was
horrified upon seeing her naked pics, especially one particular
picture in which I had added a caption saying, “I’m a dirty slut
who loves to be fucked up the ass”. She got quite angry and told
her boyfriend that he should defend her honor, and that she
wanted to see him take care of it. “As my lover, you need to
address this violation of my privacy, and see that my husband is
punished appropriately! WE will not be making love until you
take care of this matter!” She stormed out of the room.
He looked at me and said, `What the fuck were you thinking?’ I
gave him the finger. He got upset with me, erased all the
pictures and explained to me that he had no choice but to teach
me a lesson and to defend his woman’s honor. I tried to leave
the room, but he manhandled me easily. He wrapped his arms
around my chest as I kicked and flailed, dragged me to the
basement, shoved me over the sofa, tied my hands and feet, and
then called my wife downstairs to witness how he would protect
her honor. She walked downstairs to admire the scene, walking
around the sofa, marveling at how quickly he had taken charge of
the situation. I struggled to free myself of the ropes, but to
no avail. He tightened them up even more. I was immobilized.
“For violating my woman’s privacy, I am going to punish you now.”
“YOUR woman? Ha!” I objected.
“I’m fucking her every night, sometimes twice, and you’re not.
By any reasonable standard, that makes her mine,” John replied to
my silent frustration. He walked over to my wife, cupped her
breasts from behind and then reached in underneath her miniskirt
to fondle her. He continued to grope her body all over as if to
prove it to me. He swaggered all around her, lifting her skirt
up, ordering her to bend over, feeling up her ass, demanding that
she kiss his boots. “Are you satisfied?” she asked him in an
annoyed tone of voice.
“Not yet, darling. You need to realize that your husband
insulted me by questioning whom you belong to,” he said with a
serious tone of voice. “Yes, I understand,” she replied meekly.
“Just in case there is any doubt, let me be clear who’s in charge
in this home,” he declared. He told my wife to bend over against
the bed as he slipped off his leather belt and doubled it up.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “Stand still” he ordered her.
“You’re going to punish me?” she asked in a panic. He tossed her
skirt up. “Please, honey, don’t pull down my panties – I’m
begging you.” He tugged her panties down anyways and then gave
her a sound whipping with his belt. She screamed but stayed
steady. Her ass showed a red band where the belt struck her. I
was loving the scene. He whipped her three more times, with
sharp smacks that made her whimper. “Ouch! That hurts!” she
cried. Her face turned red in humiliation as she saw me
watching, admittedly with some satisfaction. He explained to
her, “I regret that I had to do this honey, but it was necessary.
From now on, you make sure to let your husband know who you
belong to – got it?” She stood up, embarrassed as a school girl
reprimanded for the first time. She rubbed her bright red
buttocks and whispered seductively to him, “I belong to you” and
then turned her head to stare straight into my eyes. She didn’t
have to say a word. Humiliated, I turned away, knowing without a
doubt whom she belonged to.
He walked back over to where I was tied down. He asked her if
she would like the honor of lowering my pants. She obliged, “Of
course, I just got a bare-ass whipping on account of his
comments, then certainly his pants have to come down.” She
yanked my pants down and then my boxers too. My bared bottom was
exposed to the cool air. When I saw him holding my wife’s
paddle, rolling up his sleeves, I realized he was warming up to
spank me now. She took a red marker and drew circles in a target
shape on my buttocks.
“I want you to thank me after every stroke.” I could hardly
believe that I was about to be punished by my wife’s lover.
“Yes, sir” I replied. He then proceeded to beat my ass with the
large paddle about 30 times very firmly as I repeated “thank you
sir” after each stroke. My wife watched happily as he punished
me. He handed the paddle to her to complete the task of teaching
me a lesson. She walked over behind me, stroked my ass, and then
pinched my bottom to make me squirm in pain. She whispered into
my ears, “I’m so wet right now.”
Linda delighted in punishing me, giving me a good couple dozen
whacks herself. I was hoping it was over. But then she said to
him, “Honey, my swats are too soft. He deserves to get some
manly strokes, ones that hurt.” I strained against the ropes
again, but couldn’t. They looked at each other in disbelief,
waiting for me to realize that there was no escape.
She gave the paddle back to him and requested that he punish me
more, even as I begged for mercy. She sat down beside me,
holding my head in her lap, stroking my hair to comfort me. He
paddled me again as she kept saying, “harder”, and “again”. He
asked me, “Are you sorry for what you did?” “Yes sir”, I
sincerely apologized, “I’ll never do it again.” “That’s right
you better not!” he replied, giving me a really hard whack of the
paddle. The holes in the paddle made the spankings hurt
particularly sharply. I began whimpering as she teased me for
being such a wimp.
“Husband, you better not cry,” she teased, “As it is, you’re on a
very tentative footing when it comes to a sex life, so don’t be
such a pussy, ok?”
“Yes, of course” I replied, not entirely sure myself.
“Well, if you can’t help but cry, it’s ok, but then we better
take off your man clothes and instead put you into my panties,
skirt and bra.” I refused. “No way, I’ll be fine.”
“Very well then, the punishment will continue. If I catch you
crying though, you’ll be sorry.”
John finished with another dozen strokes as I did my best to hold
the tears back.
She went back upstairs to fetch the cane as well as some of her
dirty panties from the hamper. She placed several pairs of the
soiled panties over my face, pushing the stained, white, crusty
crotch area of each into my mouth, gagging me firmly. As the
gagged panties got moist in my mouth, I could taste the remains
of her vaginal secretions with every breath. I also tasted and
smelled an unmistakable, pungent scent of semen with each breath,
and most humiliating to me was the knowledge that it was not my
semen I was being subjected to.
She said to her lover, “I want to see him caned, honey. I’m
going to sit here in front of him, fucking my vibrator. Every
time you hear me moan, I want you to strike his bottom with the
cane, ok?” She lay on her back and had a big orgasm after 10
minutes, moaning throughout it, during which I got caned a dozen
times. Afterwards, she sat up and placed my head in her lap
close to her pussy, stroking my head through the panties covering
me. “Continue the caning” she told him.
Again he whipped me.
The pain was intense. I could no longer hold back from crying.
She felt the wetness on her thighs and saw the tears welling up
in my eyes. “Hubby, you know you deserve this punishment. I
thought you were going to take it like a man, but it doesn’t look
like it. You’re allowed to cry if you need to”. She nodded to
him and again I got whacked with the cane really hard. Somehow
her comment about being allowed to cry bothered me, and at the
same time removed the shame associated with it. I buried my face
into her lap and began crying. “That’s it darling, let it all
out. I know it hurts. This is your redemption for being so
naughty.” Again she motioned for me to be caned. A moment
later, the searing whack of the cane landed squarely against both
buttocks. I sobbed openly into her lap as she soothed me, “Hang
in there, darling, it’s not over yet. The next time you get the
urge to disrespect me, I want you to remember how it feels to be
spanked like this.” Again I got the cane. “The pain you’re now
experiencing and will feel over the next week represents the
privilege of being allowed to serve John and me.” “Yes, wife”.
He caned me again as I flinched in pain. “I thereby want this
spanking to mark your formal surrender to us as a cuckold
husband.” “Yes, I accept” I whimpered. Again he caned me at her
request. “Five more” she commanded. She held my head down tight
as he caned me 5 times in quick succession. It was unbearable
and I lost all composure, thrashing about and bawling
uncontrollably as my wife held my head wrapped in her soiled
underwear. It was the most humiliating incident of my whole
life.
Finally, he released me and I stood up. My ass was totally
welted, sore and burning. I could not sit or touch my bottom.
She gave me several tissues with a smile, teasing me, “Awww…did
the punishment hurt??? It was supposed to hurt. The spankings
were a gift, from my lover, to me.” She made me dress up in her
mini-skirt and then took various pictures of me, including one
bending over holding my skirt up, another one standing up with
her panties over my face, another one kneeling down kissing her
toes. She removed the panties from my face so I could watch her
give him a long, passionate kiss to show her appreciation. After
he left, she taunted me with the picture on the camera, “here’s
what a well-spanked and cuckolded husband looks like!”
She told me sympathetically, `I know that punishment was severe,
and I’m sorry it had to be that way.” With tears in my eyes over
this utter humiliation, I complained, `But why did you have to
let him spank me?” She held me close, caressing my tender
buttocks, “Husband, you wouldn’t understand. John has a lot of
testosterone – way more than you’ve ever known. All of that
raging male energy has to find an outlet – either when he fucks
me, or through physical aggression on weaker males, or in your
unfortunate case, both. A masculine man like him has to
constantly prove his manhood in protecting his woman. It’s his
way of demonstrating that he owns me and that any disrespect of
his woman won’t be tolerated. I could have spanked you tender
myself, but you have to admit that he had the firmer touch. And
you certainly deserved it. I was very insulted by you, and this
punishment helped redeem my honor and restore his pride. Plus
you have no idea how romantic it was to see a man defend me…I
was so getting so turned on while he was taking you to task.
Here, let me show you.” She removed her briefs and rubbed them
into my face to show me how damp they were.
She kissed me while fondling my penis. I hardened immediately.
“I know you’d like to come, but I can’t let you. You don’t
deserve it.” She proceeded to lock me up in a chastity belt,
saying that “I’m keeping you locked up one day for each picture
you took of me, and each pair of panties you stole, and longer if
you give me any attitude.” I figured on being locked away for at
least two weeks, and complained in despair, “That’s simply
unfair.” “Unfair?” she replied indignantly. “Was it fair that I
got a whipping by my lover’s belt for your smart-ass comment?
What would be unfair is if I call him back right now to spank you
again. What would you think of that?” I apologized quickly.
“Bend over” she directed. Obediently, I did as told. “You will
have to pay the price for any attitude.” She caned me herself,
hard, right on the bottom of my cheeks where I sit.
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