Sunday, February 23, 2014

Learning Domestic Discipline - Trust

I have asked for this. I have signed an agreement. We wrote the agreement together so I have no right to complain, therefore, being a practical, I won't. Today, I will begin my training as his Domesticated Wife. I don't work outside of my home since Mr. has a very good salary. We have no children, nor do we want any. Our marriage was becoming stagnant and Mr. was becoming more and more irritated with my crabby attitude, so he suggested this change. I read all the research on Domestic Discipline and I came up with a few adjustments, he came up with a few adjustments, and now here we are. The first day of "boot camp".

We are starting with Attitude Adjustment rather than physical discipline. That will come later in the week. For now, I need to learn that as his wife, my duty is not only to love him (which I have for most of my life!) but also to please him and trust him. His duty is to love me and provide for my safety, security and well-being. To begin this, He has taken away all of my clothing. He's locking it away in one of the three spare bedrooms (yes, we have a beautiful, big house). He has the key so there is no way I can get to anything. He has also installed a lock on his dressing room so I can't even get to his clothes! I am, basically, a modest woman and the idea of being totally nude even in my own home fills me with fear and humiliation. Still, I need to learn to trust his judgement. I am terrified that someone will see me - through a window, an unexpected visitor. I am also humiliated that I am nude and he is totally dressed. I want to hide, but this is all part of my training - a training I agreed to. I just didn't realize it would be so hard.

I begin to make bread, a regular Sunday activity. Mr. stands behind me and touches me. I want to push his hands away, but I don't. He presses my back and my boobs are now covered in flour. He touches me, runs his hands down my back. I'm panting. His fingers trail to my slit and he chuckles, feeling the wetness. He kisses the back of my neck and I moan. He dips his fingers into my honey and worries my clit. I close my eyes and explode into his hand. He laughs, slaps my bottom and whispers, "You've made me happy, Lisa."

For some reason, these words, more than the orgasm I just experienced, warms me and brings me pleasure.

"Keep this up and you'll be earning back your clothing in no time," he assures me. He snags a cookie from the jar and leaves me to finish kneading my bread.

I now understand why he took away my clothes. Perhaps enforced nudity isn't so bad after all.


Monday, February 17, 2014

Library Finds

I love libraries. Dark corners, tall shelves, treasures yet to be discovered. Words which meant everything to someone at some time in some place. A private message from the author of far away to me. Luckily, He is also a library lover. We meet at the local university often. I spend hours and hours there. Researching, reading, wandering the stacks.Still, I must be ready for him. He is a professor and I I am his. He knows where to find me. When he is teaching, I am here. When he finishes lectures, we play hide and seek. He finds me. Then, I show him I am ready for him. If he is pleased, he takes me to a secluded part of the three story library. A place where few, if any travel. I open for him. For his viewing, for his use, for his pleasure. Some days, he takes me. Hard. Fast. No words. He fills me, uses me then leaves. Other days, I simply flash for him. Sometimes, he takes his hand or belt and disciplines me if I am not properly attired or prepared for him. I am to wear a dress - always. stockings or bare legs, heels. I am not to wear panties unless specifically instructed to do so. I am large breasted, so a bra or some kind of support is often required. He prefers satin or silk or a tightly laced corset. He allows me the luxury of spending my days writing, reading, studying, researching. He asks little of me. I am please to give him what he desires. Most days.


Sunday, February 16, 2014

Not Sexy - Sexy

Not sexy - a trip to they gyno for the annual spread and scrape.
Sexy - a clean bill of health






Not sexy - cleaning house
Sexy - having a partner to help clean the house in the nude.

Not sexy - going to the dentist
Sexy - a dazzling smile

Not sexy - nasty, cold, rainy days
Sexy - Rainy days with a partner











Not sexy - rudeness
Sexy - Manners

Not sexy - random cursing
Sexy - a strong vocabulary with a few harsh terms thrown in at just the right time










Not sexy - Dirt
Sexy - bodies covered in dirt with a mutual purpose

Saturday, February 8, 2014

It is Time for Discipline

No mercy. Just discipline. Like it or not. No wrong has been done, time time has still come.

You need it. I need it. Now, all that is left is for me to decide and you to endure.









Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Nudity is Underrated

Yes, it's cold out. I don't care. You are not going out anyway are you? No. I didn't think so. I've turned the heat up to 78 so you'll be fine. Take your clothes off. Do it now than come into the kitchen.

That's better. Now I'm going to lock the door to the bedroom so you can't go scurrying in there to retrieve any clothes. You have no choice but to remain nude until I unlock the door. Yes, I'm going to be nude as well. No more hiding behind clothes or make-up or anything. We are going to have a day, at least, of soul bearing nakedness. Yes, I know you're uncomfortable with your body, but you will become more comfortable as the day goes on. I think you're lovely.


Good. Now come over her. I want to touch you, smell you, look at you. That's it. you're relaxing now, smiling more. I love your smile. Let me massage your shoulders. Today, it's all about you and me and us. No more hiding.

I don't like my body anymore. I don't like being nude except in the dark or at least dimly lit room. The years and a desk job have not been kind to my backside. He, though, looks fabulous! Working at the gym as a personal trainer has certainly kept his body in perfect condition. But I promised that I'd let him call all the shots today. I had no idea he'd want me to remain naked all day long. My god I think even my toes are blushing.
Did his eyes really go that dark? He certainly is looking at me like I'm a delicious ham sandwich and he's a starving Christian. Maybe I'm not as unattractive as I thought. His hands feel so good on my shoulders. I feel the tension slipping out of me. Maybe he's right. Duh! Of course he's right. I should have trusted him. Nudity is underrated. 

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Spanking Day

I've looked forward to this day all week. I always do. Most people hate Mondays, but not me. Monday is Spanking day. A day that I spend naked, nothing more than an object of beauty and sexuality. I am no longer a professional, nor do I have the worries of today's worlds. I am free of all work, all stress, all concerns. I am beauty and I simply have one decision to make - yes or no. I choose yes.

The day begins with a shower, shaving my legs, arms, cat. I lotion up with delightfully scented cream. Then, I go to the parlour. This room is only used on Mondays. It is my sanctuary. Heavy red velvet curtains cover the windows, a plush red carpet for my bare feet. A large winged leather chair for Him, a love seat, a liquor cabinet, a small table with two straight backed chairs, a chaise lounge. Inside the closet lie the toys he may choose to use. Once I enter, I am his. I eat what and when he tells me, I drink at his discretion, I use the restroom only when given permission. I make no decisions.

He is waiting for me, seated on one of the straight back chairs. He folds the paper he was reading and smiles at me. I smile in return. He turns his chair slightly and I position myself over his lap. He begins slowly, softly and I sigh. Really, this is more of a massage than a spanking. I do not think of what is to come, I focus on the pleasure of the moment. He increases his force, but not his speed. I feel a sting now and relax into his hand. My pussy is beginning to swell and my nipples are tightening. My hands are braced on the carpet. I will not remove them. If I do, that is his signal to stop. I curl my fingers into the plushness as he continues. His hand hard, unforgiving. My honey is flowing now and I am biting my lip, but I  have yet to cry real tears. He knows this and will not stop until I do or if I lift my hands.

His hands cover my bottom, the tops of my thighs, the famous sit spot. I know not where the next blow will land but I am grateful for each one. My skin is on fire and my mind is floating. Pain and pleasure merge into peace. Tears cover my face and suddenly I am in his arms. He kisses my tears and holds me. He tells me that I am beautiful, I am perfect, I am his. I am at peace.