FEMDOM FIRSTS: How Dominant Women And Their Submissives Got Into The BDSM Lifestyle - Volume 1 of the WellHeeledDominatrix.com Collection (2 page)

First, she made me stand in my jockeys, trousers around my ankles, while she lectured me about drinking and driving. I listened to every word, and prayed for her to go on as long as possible. Finally, she was done talking.

"Get your underpants down," she said. As I lowered my shorts, she grinned, and produced a wooden hairbrush. "Now, touch your toes, honey," she said. I bent over, feeling the air against my bottom, and said a silent prayer.

Whap!
The first one was more shocking than painful. She rained blow after blow on my tush and, by twenty, I had lost count. I cried out for her to stop, I promised her anything she wanted, I pleaded for the sake of my poor, tanned flesh. When she finished, after what felt like an eternity in hell, I leapt up to caress my cheeks and my clothes tripped me up.

She stood over me as I lay on the ground. "You look pitiful," she said. "Jockeys around your ankles, bottom red as a fire hydrant. You cry it out for a bit and then we're going to have a long talk."

And, so it began. Now, I take out the trash without being asked, I pick my socks up off the floor every time, I massage her feet every night. I am now, in her words, "the best husband in the world." And still, it's not enough---she has to maintain her authority. She is literally the one who wears the pants. I'm stripped to my shorts when I walk in the door. She says it keeps me humble. If I get out of line, she takes my jockeys and I'm reduced to my birthday suit. If that doesn't teach me, I get the hairbrush treatment.

She has a routine. I'm led into the den, lectured, and bent over. I get fifty whacks across the backside and, after that, she is very forgiving. She takes me in her arms, wipes my tears, and tells me how much she loves me. "Spare the rod, spoil the husband." That's what she says.

And, I have to agree. I feel less guilt and conflict now. I know what being a good man means. It means respecting your wife in ways that most husbands don't, it means putting a lady's needs above your own, it means knowing your place. The brush sits on the coffee table, a constant reminder to be good. And, that's what men need, no matter their age---to be reminded.

The last spanking was a special one. Annie's friend, Jane, was over for lunch and we were having drinks in the living room. I've been allowed my clothes when guests are present and, sitting fully dressed with the two ladies, I felt like I was on vacation in my own home. Then, I did something stupid. We were having a heated political discussion, with me opposed to Annie and Jane. Jane was the better debater and, losing the argument and my cool, I got personal. Recovering from my nasty comment, Jane said, "Well, if that's the level we're on now, I don't see the point of talking. I should get going anyway."

"Oh no," said my wife and right then I started to sweat. "He's crossed the line and he's going to pay for it. We have some new rules around here, Jane. He's offended you and you deserve satisfaction." At this point, Jane was mystified and I was terrified.

I started murmuring pleas to Annie. No dice. "On your feet," she said to me. I tried refusing and, of course, she played her trump card.

"Do you want to have sex sometime in the next six months?"

Up I got, awaiting instructions. Within a minute, I was reduced to my shorts and Jane was chortling with delight. The smirk on her face was punishment enough but Annie wasn't finished. "I'll be right back," she said, and went into the den. When she returned, she had the brush in her hand. I uttered one last plea, to no avail. She made me stand in the center of the room.

"Underpants down," she commanded. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband, and pushed them down to my knees. "No, no, down around your ankles. You know the routine." Jane burst into giggles, and clapped her hands. Once my briefs were in their proper place, I was made to touch my toes. I felt like a 10-year-old boy, bending over with my backside bared for punishment.

And boy, what punishment! At the end of it, I was dancing around, hands on my tender tush, and tears rolling down my cheeks. The pain made me forget my humiliation, but only for a moment. When it subsided, I found myself face to face with the ladies, my manhood exposed for their amusement. I quickly reached for my briefs, and pulled them up.

"Don't think you're getting dressed," Annie said. "You're going to stay in your jockeys for the rest of the day. Do you have something to say to Jane?"

"I'm sorry, Jane."

"For what?"

"For being disrespectful to you. It won't happen again."

"This is wonderful," Jane said to Annie. "You sure know how to keep order here."

"You could say we have a new regime in this house," my wife replied. "Now, Walter, go make us some tea."

Jane wound up staying another hour, grinning at my state of undress the whole time. She's been gone for awhile now, and here I stand, writing it all down. That was another command from my beloved. She thinks our story will serve as an example for other couples. And, so I'll close by saying this to the men out there: it'll sting, more than a bit, but a life of domestic discipline is worth it. She'll love you more, because you'll deserve it---you'll be a better husband. And you'll feel better, too, just not at those fateful moments. You'll know the right and the wrong ways to treat her, you'll know what respect really means, and you'll know how to make her truly happy.

In short, you'll know your place.

Champagne, Skiing and Spankings

by Nikki

My parents have a large cabin in Telluride. We've been going there every year since I was little. After I graduated from college, my friends and I would go there by ourselves and, later, I would take boyfriends there for romantic weekends. You see, that's where I took guys to test them, to see if they were exactly what I wanted in a husband. In the cabin, we were all alone, miles from anyone, where nobody could hear him begging for help. But, I'm getting ahead of myself...

During my teens and early 20's, I was looking for a very specific type of man; the one I would want to spend the rest of my life with. Fairy tale wedding, lavish estate, you know. Every girl's dream. The problem is, where do you find a man who's a genius in the boardroom but a pussy in the bedroom? It ain't easy, let me tell you!

When I met Ben, I thought maybe I'd finally found
the guy
. He was on the board at his dad's company and they had plenty of money. So, I knew he wasn't interested in me for my dad's dough. He was more cute than handsome; one of those puppy dog kind of guys. Girls were always flirting with him but they were clearly only interested in his wealth. He carried himself well. He was a formidable foe in the boardroom (or so my dad said), on the golf course, and, as I later learned, on the slopes as well.

I pretended to be a "nice girl", and had only let him get to second base. I told him I was saving myself for marriage, which was a huge lie but what did he know? He kept pressuring me so, after we'd been dating for a few weeks, I told him I thought we should go to my parent's cabin in Telluride. He readily agreed. He thought he was finally going to "get lucky" but he had NO idea.

After arriving, and leaving our bags at the cabin, we excitedly drove to the resort, and spent the day working out our muscles on the black diamond terrain. We later ate a candlelight dinner in the resort's five-star restaurant before heading back to the cabin.

Only then did we unpack. My bedroom has a king-sized bed, a full bathroom, a fireplace, and its own balcony with a Jacuzzi®. The entire wall by the balcony is covered with windows and, when the sun is up, you can see for miles through the mountains. At that moment, however, it was pitch black outside and the only thing to be seen was the occasional car light meandering across the valley below.

I'd arranged for the kitchen and the wet bar to be fully stocked before we arrived, and had also requested the Jacuzzi be filled and warmed up.

While Ben was hanging his clothes in the cedar-lined closet, I unlocked the nightstand drawer, and peeked inside. Yep, everything was right where I'd left it. I then stepped outside to turn on the Jacuzzi jets. It was freezing out there! Once back inside, I removed all my clothes, and was standing there completely naked by the crackling fire when Ben turned around. His eyes warmed and he started walking toward me. I held up my hand to stop him, and said, "Get some Cristal from the wet bar, and meet me in the Jacuzzi."

I walked outside and the freezing air shocked my senses once again. I quickly tiptoed across the cold deck, and up the Jacuzzi steps. Because of the rolling hot water, I was forced to slowly lower my feet, legs, and then the rest of my body in.

A few minutes later, Ben emerged from my bedroom door, holding a bottle and two glasses, and wearing the large white robe that I always kept hanging in my bathroom. He put the glasses and bottle down next to me, removed the robe, and tried to get into the Jacuzzi quickly. He, too, had to slow down and enter tepidly because of the heat. He was already sporting an erection, and was clearly embarrassed. Pussy...

After he was in, he reached for the bottle. He popped the cork, and poured two glasses, handing me one. We "clinked" them together, and each took a sip. Ben sidled up next to me, and put his hand on my knee. I turned to look into his eyes but he was looking at my breasts, which were floating on the water.

I said, "You like these?"

He finally looked up at me, and mumbled, "Yes."

"Yes,
MA'AM
," I corrected.

He smiled, clearly thinking this was a game. He'd learn pretty quickly that this was
NO
game and that
I
was in charge...now and forever.

I sat up a little more so my large, pink nipples would emerge from the bubbling hot water. I then turned slightly toward him so he could get an eyeful. He put his champagne glass down, and reach toward my right breast. Holding my own champagne glass with one hand, I quickly slapped his face hard with the other.

Startled, he backed up a bit...but kept staring at my tits. The poor dear was clearly in a trance. I admit I encouraged him to drink more wine at dinner than I should have but that was all part of my plan.

"Now, listen to me, and listen carefully," I said, through gritted teeth. "You are going to do exactly what I say from now on. Do you understand?"

He glanced up at my eyes, and nodded, before dropping his face back to my tits, which were still bobbing and staring back at him.

I pulled my body up, and sat on the side of the Jacuzzi so only my lower legs remained in the water. I spread my knees wide, right in front of him, and showed him my shaved pussy. My nipples were as tight as stones from the cold air hitting my heated skin.

I said, "Well, you've been pressuring me, Ben. Do you like what you see?"

Ben stammered a bit, and then tried to put his hand on my leg. I reached forward, and slapped him again. He gasped, and touched his cheek.

"Do NOT touch me unless I order you to do so. Do you understand?"

Still holding his cheek, he shook his head yes.

I turned more toward him, moved closer, and put my leg on the side of the Jacuzzi, behind his head. My pussy was only inches from his face and the steam from my body was rising toward his nostrils. I spread my shaved lips apart, and said, "Take a good, long look, Ben..."

I then put one finger in my cunt, and then a second, and a third.

"Do you want to touch me now, Ben?"

Still staring at my pussy, he whispered, "Yes."

"Yes,
MA'AM
!" I retorted, slapping him a third time.

He looked up at me again, a hurt expression on his face.

"If you can't play the game the right way, you can't play at all. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he whispered again.

"That's better."

I then took my champagne glass, separated my pussy lips with one hand, and slowly poured the cold bubbly over my clit with the other. Watching Ben staring at my shiny, wet clit was turning me on more than anything. I've always been an exhibitionist. I wanted to be fucked fast and hard right then but that wasn't part of my immediate plan. I had to stick to the plan to get exactly what I wanted in the end, no matter what.

"You haven't had enough to drink, Ben. Lick that Cristal off my pussy. Don't miss a drop! But, keep your hands by your sides."

He willingly dove in, pushing his face against my smooth cunt, lapping away like a happy dog.

"Lick my clit fast with the tip of your tongue."

He did.

"Now, push your tongue inside me."

He obeyed.

At that moment, the timer of the Jacuzzi shut off. I didn't really notice at first until I realized the water was stilling and I could see Ben's hands underneath. He was playing with himself! That was NOT allowed under ANY circumstances!!

I grabbed him by his hair, and jerked his face away from my pussy. He looked up at me in surprise.

"Did I give you permission to touch yourself, slave boy?!"

He shook his head no.

"Do not EVER touch your cock without permission! EVER!!! Got it? From this day forward, I am the ONLY person allowed to touch your cock. It is MINE! That includes in the shower. I am the
only one
who will clean your cock from now on. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

He sheepishly shook his head again. He was starting to realize this wasn't a game at all. It was how life was going to be from now on.

I got back into the Jacuzzi, turned around, placed my knees on the seat, and then leaned my body out over the edge. My ass was out of the water, and right next to his face, the steam billowing from my hot skin.

"Worship my ass, slave boy," I ordered.

Ben stood up in the Jacuzzi behind me, and started massaging my ample mounds. I spread my knees further apart, and said, "With your tongue, slut!"

He stammered a bit. Clearly, he hadn't given a rim-job before. No problem. I wasn't going to give him any choice...about this or about anything else. I knew he would obey when I threatened him.

"If you ever want to feel my pussy squeezing your cock, you will lick my ass RIGHT NOW!!!"