Xena crosses a line with demerits (I'm not complaining)

"You never actually finish a room when
you clean it! Five demerits."Dare to add some Femdom to your love life!

Last week Xena comes home from work, storms around the house, and declares, "You never actually finish a room when you clean it! Five demerits."

"Oh."

I'm more surprised than turned on.

Xena obviously likes the control the demerit system gives her, enjoys dishing out the resulting beating, but still has some difficulty owning her half of the relationship outside specifically kinky time. But here she is promising me five painful strokes with a riding whip.

"I'm sorry," says Xena sounding defensive. "But I really need to come home to a tidy house and this seems the only way."

"No. I've been rubbish. That's what demerits are for." And it's true. I felt guilty, redeemed, and hopelessly turned on.

This is how I like it. Without demerits I'm just a henpecked husband whose wife lets him wear a chastity device as long as he doesn't fuss. More importantly than that, demerits are a way to stop her from being irritated with me. If I get something wrong, she can give me a demerit and the issue is closed as long as I take her seriously, which I do.

So when we started out earlier this year, I got into the habit of coaching her. Whenever she said anything that required an apology from me, I'd say, "I suppose that was another demerit?" It usually was. Sometimes it was more. But that meant she could say that being whipped was my idea, which I also hate.

Back to last week.

On Friday, I take a gamble and tell her I'm going to stop suggesting demerits. If she wants the benefits of a slave, then she has to treat me like one.

I realize she's crossed a line
with those three demerits.Find out how to get to start the journey
to this place!

I expect to have to bite my lip and let potential demerits slide, but they arrive one after the other, day by day. Then last night I make my report. I've met all my targets -- erotica word count, diet, cleaning.

"Very good," she says and I know she means it. She likes being in charge. 

"Was everything else the way you like it?" I ask.

She wrinkles her brow. "Yes."

"So no demerits," I say with a real sense of relief. I'm already at 35 demerits and though the prospect excites me, I know that that's a lot of strokes to take. I'm not going to enjoy that beating.

"Wait," says Xena. "Earlier on you talked over my dialogue--"

It's true. She was watching TV and I interrupted to ask how long the show lasted so I could decide whether to settle to an activity or go to bed with a book. I obviously chose the wrong moment and she growled at me.

"--so give yourself three demerits."

Even in vanilla time, I'm now
living under the shadow of the whip.Find out how to get some of this in your life!

"Yes mistress," I say and go to kneel in the corner.

She quickly calls me back to give her a foot and leg massage that lasts just under an hour. No conversation, just me mutely serving. Very much the slave.

I lavish attention on her curves. There's nowhere to go with this, no chance of an orgasm, no benefit in yearning to creep further up to her thighs and pussy but that's fine. It's like being a teenager again -- OMG I'm touching a woman's leg! Running my hands over it! I would be a walking--kneeling-- horn, except that the Holy Trainer 2 keeps my cock pointing down.

And as I rub and thumb and stroke, I realize she's crossed a line with those three demerits.

Up until now, demerits outside kinky space have always been about my duties and our shared domestic  life. Did I clean up after myself? Did I complete my tasks? Did I break some crockery? Even the time I cost us money by missing a special offer on some jewelry related to something she'd asked me to do.

These new demerits were about a pretty mundane husband-wife interaction. I'd talked over her TV show, she'd got cross with me. It's a subtle thing, but it's definitely a new development. She's started to use demerits as leverage in our day-to-day relationship!

Even in vanilla time, I'm now living under the shadow of the whip.

That thought tips me over the edge and I'm leaking by the time she tells me to come to bed.

"That's a lot of demerits to administer," I say.

"Oh," she says with a smile. "I'll manage."

---

Don't resign yourself to just getting off on other people's adventures! When we started out, my wife was vanilla. Use my manuals to help you walk the same Femdom path! There's one for him, and one for her. 

What happened next: Femdom tease and denial like never before

 "It's just I need ten minutes alone in the
bedroom... that phone call turned me on."
Find out how to get some of this in your life!

After the amazing phone tease, my supposedly vanilla wife arrives home, checks her mail then comes into the kitchen, "How long will food be?"

"I was just waiting for you before doing the last bit," I say, ever the compliant husband.

"Oh," says Xena with a girlish squirm that doesn't quite suite her business clothes. "It's just I need ten minutes alone in the bedroom... that phone call turned me on."

"I could come and help you..." I say.

"Hmmmm."

"I can't think of  anything more frustrating," I add hurriedly. "And then I'd have to cook the meal while trying to to think about it."

Five minutes later, I'm kneeling at the foot of the bed naked except for my chastity device.

This time she's wearing the shoes as well.
Find out how to get some of this in your life!

Xena is sitting on the duvet -- not hiding under the covers -- half naked, legs splayed, vibrator circling her clit and labia.

Soon my whole plastic-sheathed groin is rising and falling in time to each buzzing orbit. There's nowhere for the lust to go. My eyes water. A couple of times I find myself squinting or even looking away.

And then she's done.

"Clean this," she says, handing me the vibrator. "Then cook."

Though dizzy with lust,  I do manage to cook. We chat over the meal, watch TV while I rub her feet... as the credits roll I say, "You mentioned demerits."

"Yes," says the woman whose feet I've been so lovingly massaging. "Go prepare yourself."

I hurry to the bedroom and strap myself over the bed. The velcro cuffs have a velvet lining. The duvet is soft under my body. Given how hard I've been working, this is the most comfortable I've been all day!

Me? I sleep eventually.
Find out how to get some of this in your life!

Then Xena strides in, slips into those shoes and proceeds to beat me. It's not just the ten or demerits, it's a few strokes for a warm up and a finale with Fred Norman's flogger, wielded with such ferocity it lands like a half dozen spankings.

Still wearing the shoes, she orders me to clear up the punishment apparatus, then I kneel at the foot of the bed.

Welts still clawing at my skin, I kneel and watch as she pleasures herself again. This time she's wearing the shoes as well.

Buy the ultimate vanilla-to-femdom

how-to book right now!

[iTunes][Epub][Kindle][UK Kindle][Nook] [PDF]

It goes on for ever.

It's like being stuck in one of those animated porn gifs; the vibrator goes round and round, and my groin gets tighter and tighter.

At last her hand begins to blur quiver, breathing quicken and she's done. "Clean this."

Then she reads for an hour while I massage her feet and legs, my gaze fixed on her pussy.

Then she goes to sleep.

Me? I sleep eventually.

The next morning it turns out that each of her four orgasms this week have cost me an extra day of chastity. I expected to be allowed a private orgasm on Monday. Now it's next Friday, and the weekend hasn't even started.

---

Don't resign yourself to just getting off on other people's adventures! When we started out, my wife was vanilla. Use my manuals to help you walk the same Femdom path! There's one for him, and one for her. 

Demerits and Domestic Service

Our Sabbatical in Slaveland is long over, but I'm 
still subject to demerits for domestic chores, 
which Xena is increasingly matter of fact 
about applying.

The corner shop doesn't have first class stamps. I think, To hell with it, I'll wait until Xena gets home. She'll have stamps in her handbag.

But even as I'm thinking that, I'm already heading off to walk three blocks to the next shop.

And so Xena's application form goes off well and truly on time.

When I get home, I hang out the washing. Later, after spending most of the day chasing a contract - looking good, by the way - I bring in the washing, add it to the mound of fresh clothes... then carefully sort and fold away everything.

It keeps happening like this. I keep going the extra mile.

Our Sabbatical in Slaveland is long over, but I'm still subject to demerits for domestic chores, which Xena is increasingly matter of fact about applying. For instance, the other day I forgot to buy yogurt for desert... we're sitting at the table having a normal conversation like a normal couple, but Xena casually tells me to add another demerit.

I'm not afraid of the whippings, even though 
they are real punishment

I'm not afraid of the whippings, even though they are real punishment and nothing I would subject myself to just for erotic kicks - what with the sports I do, I'm quite robust - but my unconscious is.

Or perhaps submitting to discipline is enough to make my unconscious take my servitude seriously?

The odd thing is how much I am enjoying this arrangement!

I really don't get a kick out of the chores themselves. Domestic service was always something I played at.

It was an excuse for a whipping, or a kind of bribe to Xena to get her to do Femdom. Now I'm a contented house slave, chasing dust bunnies and cleaning up smudges.

What I think is now going on is this:

• The chores need doing anyway, so the prospect of demerits and hence a whipping turns the drudgery into an adventure.
• Total surrender is less stressful than deciding when and how to push back against Xena's domestic demands - exactly what share should a semi-employed househusband do?
• There's a zen to just getting on with a task to a high standard.
• It's an expression of our relationship... I mean, if we were having lots of romantic sex, then I would probably do the chores in a romantic way and feel good about it. As it is, we're having lots of Femdom one-sided sex, so domestic servitude works in a similar way.
• Domestic service is satisfying by association, since it implies demerits implies acknowledging our shared sexuality in non-sexual situations. For a middle aged married couple, any acknowledgment like that is a wonderful thing.
• A pristine house makes Xena happy. Slavery is an act of giving.

Why not introduce some Female Centered Femdom to your relationship?

Second Sabbatical in Slave Land: It's real! - A nasty whipping from a suddenly sadistic wife

"I'll bring my Christmas boots."

"I'll bring my Christmas boots," said Xena, meaning the knee-length ones she picked up in the Christmas sales, the ones that give me a hard on just contemplating.

We were planning our romantic weekend, and that was her way of telling me that it would be a Femdom one. I wasn't complaining.

Now weeks later, I'm kneeling with my arms stretched out and pinned to the high foot of bed in our holiday cottage. If I strain my ears, I can hear the sea and the wind, and the rain on the windowpane. Mostly, though, I can hear my own pulse.

We already had a finale for our one-week Femdom sabbatical. I had forty or so demerits, which Xena administered in blocks of ten. She was tired and more amused than turned on. It also amused her to give me a chance to get off by pegging myself, and then announcing that that was it until the next weekend.

"...it was a kind of sea change with her
sadistic side emerging into the light."
Find out how to get some of this in your life!

Looking back, it was a kind of sea change with her sadistic side emerging into the light. However it wasn't really a peak experience for either of us.

Now, on my 28th day of denial, I wanted this time to be different. I'd racked up a few demerits over the previous week, and then, with Xena's agreement, added one for each upwards fluctuation in my weight (I am on a diet). That took me to 40 demerits.

Earlier, as I rubbed her feet I asked permission to make a suggestion and then said, "It occurred to me that whippings are only really interesting to you when I'm outside my limits."

"It's all the same to me," she said offhandedly, still not rushing to hold her sadism up to the light.

"Fair enough," I said, "But how about you give them all to me at one go, anyway?"

"OK," she said and went back to her book.

Now, an hour later, she sweeps into the room in a feminine skirt, knee-length boots clopping on the thin carpet.

I mewl and lick my lips.

"Don't do that. It's disgusting," she says. Then she raises her hem, exposing first the warm thigh length socks and then her neatly trimmed bush - no underwear tonight.

It would be enough that she looks delicious. However it's even more amazing that she's actually visually teasing me. My vulnerable chaste state has given her back her sexual aggression. Groaning, I lose control of my Kegel muscles which twitch wildly, making my penis inflate painfully inside its cage.

Xena strides over to the bed, picks up the dressage whip I bought years ago, and then beats the hell out of me.

It hurt.
Find out how to get some of this in your life!

Thinking about it as I type this turns me on. And the prospect of it gave an edge to the preceding week. However it was not an erotic experience right then.

It hurt.

Really hurt.

I strained against the bonds, whimpered, almost wept, and it still hurt.

All the while she gave a running commentary in a playful mocking voice. "That's ten. Just think. only thirty more... Oh I lost count. Start again... tee-he..."

Finally Xena stopped, flopped on the bed so I could admire her boots, then finally released me. She had me take off the boots off, alas, but then got under the covers and had me go down on her.

This was the first time I'd got to serve her orally after a proper beating, and I burrowed under the covers with glee.

She was already hot and wet. Beating me, I realized with a dark thrill, had turned her on.

Later as I stroke her hair and she teases me about how many days I must to wait before an orgasm, I say, "Just so you know, that whipping was wasn't remotely erotic. I really wanted it to end..."

Xena interrupts with a laugh. "I know."

"...but nothing on earth would have made me ask you to stop," I complete.

That was four days ago, and I still haven't been
permitted an orgasm.
Find out how to get some of this in your life!

"And if you had asked, I still wouldn't have stopped," says Xena sweetly, and I know instantly that she means it.

"Oh Christ," I say. "This is real! You never were any good at role play."

She tilts her chin. "Of course it's real! How else did you want me to approach this? Are you complaining?"

"No, no," I say. "I'm just outside my comfort zone. I've always tried to keep this limited. But you're an all or nothing person... I guess I'm trapped by my own fetish..."

"You are, aren't you?" she says with a note of glee.

I squirm, hard again inside my chastity device.

That was four days ago, and I still haven't been permitted an orgasm.

---

Don't resign yourself to just getting off on other people's adventures! When we started out, my wife was vanilla. Use my manuals to help you walk the same Femdom path! There's one for him, and one for her. 

Second Sabbatical In Slave Land: Lunchtime Demerits, Blurring Lines and Back Doors

Around lunchtime, I'm working away at an application for a contract job (I'm "on the bench" at the moment) when the doorbell rings.

...she sits at the kitchen table and talks a little distractedly
about work.... she's emphatically not in any kind of
erotic mode

Xena sweeps into the hall, every bit my high-powered executive wife. "I forgot my laptop... make me a cup of tea... I'll have my sandwich in the kitchen."

She sits at the kitchen table and talks a little distractedly about work; I just happen to be present at a busy lunch with herself. She's emphatically not in any kind of erotic mode.

I've learned the hard way never to try to blur the lines. Even when we were courting, an attempt to snog in these circumstances would have been met with an irritable brush off.

However... I notice that Xena is cheerfully giving orders and taking it for granted that I will run around after her. She also listens to my "interim report" like a boss - I've bought this for dinner, plan to do that task.

"What did you want me to do today?" I ask innocently. "Declutter that drawer then do the lounge, was it?"

She looks around the kitchen and frowns. "Did you dust the walls?"

"Yes..."

It's rather more than I can imagine enjoying.

"What's that?" She points an accusing hand. There's a big strand of cobweb hanging from the ceiling.

"Oh. I missed that," I say. Then perfectly natural; "I think that's a demerit."

"I should think so!" she says. "And one more demerit for not having the bed made."

I produce the clicker and solemnly add two more to the count. "Thirty five," I say, ruefully. It's rather more than I can imagine enjoying, and I still wince when I think of the last time Xena gave me a whipping.

"That's mounting up. You'll have to schedule time for it."

"Yes I will," she says with a malicious smile, kisses me, and heads out to work.

And that is the glory of a demerit counter. It's not overtly sexual or erotic. It doesn't drip with sticky fingered fetish. It doesn't violate her practical  matter-of-fact mood. And yet it's a back door into Femdom.

And my god as I type this, I am hard in my chastity cage.

Let my books help you introduce some Female Centered Femdom to your relationship