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Tuesday, 16 April 2019

Training a Wife

From Blushes 82
My philosophy of marriage is that you have to make quite clear who is the boss and it has to be made quite clear to a wife what her role and position is. Which is of course that she does exactly what her husband wants, immediately and at all times. Her role is to serve her husband and master, to minister to his needs, to do her utmost to ensure her master’s happiness. I realise of course that this is out of tune with modern thinking in some quarters but then we all agree that a lot of modern life has gone off the rails. This in my opinion is a major cause. Feminism, so-called equality. All that rubbish.
There is an old saying that a woman’s place is in the kitchen getting her husband’s meal and in the bedroom serving his sexual needs. Old sayings are frequently full of truth and wisdom and I am sure none more than this one.
My own wife Sarah is a highly attractive young woman, 21 now and 19 when I married her. I deliberately chose a younger girl (10 years younger than myself) so that I would have someone not yet set in (probably unfortunate) ways, plus also a girl of malleable disposition which I first made sure Sarah was. And as I say I also ensured that my choice was highly attractive to give me pleasure and add to my status (the owner of a prized possession). She is a tallish girl with a rather voluptuous figure: full and firm high breasts, their size emphasised by a slim waist; ripe hips and bottom; splendid long and shapely legs. She has glossy dark-brown hair which I have her wear long in a feminine manner; last but not least she has a beautiful oval face, with big lustrous brown eyes and a full sensuous mouth. These last two features have not infrequently in the past two years been respectively tear-filled and contorted as she struggles with pain.
The tears and the prettily anguished mouth come very largely from one of my main instruments of discipline: a long and whippy yellow rattan cane; a heavy leather two-tongued tawse. I have also used a birch-twig bundle (a nice old-fashioned item this) cut by myself, and my wide leather belt.
The cane was my original disciplinary instrument and it has served me and Sarah of course very well. It dates right back to our honeymoon. I had packed it in one of my suitcases and on that first evening in the hotel, together and alone at last after all the excitement of the nuptial festivities, I took it out and showed Sarah. This was what I was going to use to discipline her. It would be our constant companion, so that we would be a threesome rather than a twosome. She gazed at it with unbelieving eyes. Sarah had never been caned before, I had already ascertained that fact: not her father or anyone else in the family; no one at all. That of course is not so unusual nowadays unlike in earlier times. I had not previously indicated to Sarah that I intended to cane her once she was my wife — although I had made clear I would require discipline. This cane therefore came as a very big shock. I made her hold it, feel its texture in her hands. As I told Sarah, she would routinely feel its texture on her bare bottom.
I took it from her and said I would start in the morning. I could have begun immediately of course but there was the other thing, what is regarded as the prime purpose of the wedding night: sexual intercourse. I did not want any distraction from that. Sarah was a virgin and it was going to be painful for her. The pain as I took my pleasure and entered her for the first time. She would come to experience pleasure in the act as well, when I allowed her to, but for the moment, at the outset, it was naturally painful and I wanted it to be so. I wanted the pain to fill her mind.
That Sarah was a virgin I knew both from her own word and from a confirmatory examination I had a medical friend of mine carry out. I myself had deliberately refrained from penetrating Sarah before the wedding night and my friend’s examination — on his consulting room table, Sarah with her lovely legs spread wide, feet in those stirrups, while I watched — had confirmed that there had been no other penetration; Sarah was intact.
She was aware that it was going to hurt — girls talk about these things of course and I confirmed to her that there was every chance of it hurting when a virgin is taken for the first time. Telling Sarah she was going to be caned — though not that night gave her something else to juggle in her swimming head. But I am sure it was the immediate prospect that was mostly filling her mind. The seemingly impossibly large organ that had to enter her and somehow be accommodated. Because of course to an inexperienced girl a man’s erect organ can seem impossibly large.
And that clearly was how it felt. Impossibly large. It undoubtedly hurt a great deal. I didn’t spare Sarah. I took my full pleasure. And moreover I made sure it wasn’t quick, deliberately delaying my orgasm. Extending my pleasure — and of course extending Sarah’s pain. She was crying with it but I kept on. Long, deep strokes. This was how it had to be at the beginning. First this awful pain, then — when I allowed it there would be pleasure for her too.
In the morning Sarah said she had hardly slept she was so sore. I uttered some consoling words — but also experienced a hotly renewed arousal. Ignoring Sarah’s protests I took her again. It was clearly just as painful, perhaps even more so, as I once more took my full pleasure. No doubt at that point she felt devastated, unable to believe that sexual intercourse, which I clearly had a strong appetite for, could be anything but torture. When I had finished I gently reminded Sarah of the cane.
I gave Sarah her first caning an hour later. After we had had breakfast (she didn’t want to eat but I made her, saying she had to keep up her strength), then a stroll in the hotel grounds for some fresh air and then back to our rooms with the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door. I again made Sarah take the cane in her hands to get the feel if it. Its hardness, its springiness. In future, I said, I would have her bring it to me whenever I was going to give her a caning. Canings would be for what I considered shortcomings in her behaviour. Anything at all where I thought Sarah hadn’t done as well as she might would get her a caning. And right now, on our honeymoon and starting that day, I was going to cane her whether or not I was displeased with her. Simply to give Sarah the experience of it.
She began crying. Sarah was of course in a highly emotional state anyway what with the excitement of the wedding and then her agonising defloration. Now this cane. I told her sharply to pull herself together. Any young wife had to be trained: in sex, in discipline, in everything else. If she didn’t stop the silly snivelling I would be displeased and the caning would be twice as hard, twice as painful. I told Sarah she looked a fright with her face all red and tear-stained — although in fact I found this show of her distress quite attractive.
Sarah did her best to comply, managing to more or less stop crying. I told her to take off her dress, everything off in fact, and put her shorty nightie on again. That was how I wanted her for the caning. There was a low stool about 14 inches in height, which I placed in the centre of the room. I wanted Sarah kneeling on it with her head and arms down on the carpet. A most humiliating position of course as the canee’s bottom and everything else would be blatantly on show.
Sarah showed further distress when I indicated how I wanted her, a touch of hysteria in fact. I brusquely pointed out that it wasn’t supposed to be enjoyable, it was meant to be unpleasant, humiliating. then I gave her a quick cut across her thigh and a sharp order to get in position.
Sarah, in tears again, complied. I gave her six nice hot stingers. She had some trouble taking them, in fact falling off the stool halfway through in her desperate squirming, writhing, etc. I made her get back of course, so I could complete her quota.
Afterwards I comforted my new wife, telling Sarah she had done well, been very brave, etc — although of course she hadn’t done particularly well, it had been a bit of a performance. Perhaps all one could expect at the very beginning however. What I found now, as I caressed my hands over Sarah’s lovely body and with the excitement of what I had just done, was that I was becoming aroused again. Very randy for her in fact. I told Sarah that I wanted intercourse again.
Sarah yelped out in a panicky way. She couldn’t, just couldn’t, not so soon after the last time. Dreadfully sore etc. But I insisted naturally. A wife must always provide her body when her master requires it. That is what every young wife should be made to learn, as I told Sarah, and I made her cooperate. I made her lie face-down over the edge of the bed. It was the first occasion I had taken Sarah in that position. I took my time again. It was marvellous. I was getting a real taste for Sarah’s cunt!
Before the honeymoon was over, though, Sarah had also experienced the marvellous delight that sexual intercourse can be. This was what I wanted as I have said, that Sarah should know the heady pleasure a woman can get from it — but of course that she should only enjoy it when it suited me. After her deliberately harsh and agonising introduction I now had sessions with Sarah that were the complete opposite. Working her up with plenty of foreplay etc, getting her nicely aroused, nice and hot, before I put it in her and then performing with only the thought of Sarah’s pleasure and enjoyment in mind.
She couldn’t believe it, that what was happening was the same thing. At other times I took her as before, hard and without any preliminaries. Making sure Sarah certainly didn’t enjoy it. And of course there was always the cane.
By the time the honeymoon was over therefore I had my wife’s training nicely started. She could experience the heady pleasure of sex, of coming to orgasm, but getting this pleasure was at her lord and master’s whim. If she pleased me and it suited me I might give it to her but equally I might simply use her for my own pleasure alone. And in addition Sarah knew that in any situation where she didn’t please me there would be the cane. Zipping into her lovely bare buttocks, into the soft and tender backs of her thighs. Yes I had made excellent use of our honeymoon. I had used it as it should be used, to get my new wife started on the right track.
As soon as we got back of course, to what would be our normal life, I built on this good start. I had to return to my business but for the first few weeks I only spent the mornings at my office, getting home at lunchtime so that I could personally supervise Sarah in her housewifely duties. A man’s business is important but not more so than his domestic arrangements. Nothing can be more important than getting one’s wife properly trained.
One rule I established at that time was that Sarah does her housework in just a thin, brief top and a skimpy pair of tight-fitting knickers. With Sarah’s voluptuous figure this makes a most appealing and indeed arousing sight. It also means that the requisite parts of her are ready without delay should an impromptu caning or tawsing (I introduced the tawse early on) be deemed necessary.
Sarah’s thighs are quite bare and the tight, thin knicker material containing her bottom will stop none of the sting of whatever instrument I decide upon — though I may in any case take the skimpy knickers down. Needless to say Sarah hates having to do her housework dressed like this. Apart from anything less it is humiliating in the extreme.
Sarah is made to wear the ‘housework uniform’ all the time when she is at home during the day and not just when I am there. Should someone come to the door she is permitted to put a dressing gown on; well, I am well aware that Sarah is highly attractive and I don’t want an over-excited postman or milko jumping on my wife and giving her an impromptu fuck. What she’s got is for my pleasure, not a randy milk-roundsman’s. Which is not to say that it’s not mine to give out a sample of it I feel so inclined. (And I have. More than once in fact.)
Although Sarah hates wearing the ‘housework uniform’ she wouldn’t dare not wear it in my absence. There is always the chance I might make an unscheduled return home; but in any case I now have Sarah sufficiently well-trained that thinking to disobey me would not enter her mind.
The housework uniform is worn until I get home, at about 6.30. As soon as I get in Sarah brings me a pre-dinner drink which I have in my favourite armchair. Sometimes I will let her join me with a drink as well, but at other times she will simply act as if she were a waitress — indeed a very subservient waitress because I will require her to kneel at the side of my chair. Following this Sarah will go up and change for the evening.
What she wears of course is strictly my decision and there is a range of possibilities depending on my whims, what I think is suitable, etc. I may for instance decide on a glamorous evening dress, cocktail or full-length; alternatively I might have her in only sexy underwear: a black bra and brief black knickers with nylons and a suspender belt and high heels; it could even be just the suspender belt and nylons and heels. Whatever the outfit I will usually have Sarah wearing lots of make-up: her full mouth bright red or glossy pink, her huge eyes heavily made-up, lots of blusher. So that she rather resembles a living doll. I like to think of Sarah as my living doll; a doll that is programmed to think only of me and my pleasure.
As for our evenings we may spend them at home alone, when I can work on some aspect of Sarah’s training (training is something which is never fully completed), or it might be that we have guests, friends or acquaintances, either for a meal or perhaps bridge, etc. The fact that there will be guests does not mean that Sarah won’t be in, say, just her underwear. I will simply explain to our guests the situation if they are not already aware of it; that it is part of Sarah’s training. If our guests are a married couple I will certainly advise the husband that he should have a similar regime for his wife. To demonstrate matters further I might take Sarah over my lap in front of them, to pull down her skimpy knickers and administer a spanking. Or indeed give her a taste of the cane.
I follow the same routine if we are going out. Thus if we are visiting friends Sarah might be allowed to wear one of her lovely dresses, or equally it might be only her underwear under her coat (which she has to remove when we arrive). To keep Sarah on tenterhooks I will only say at the last moment what I have decided for a particular evening. I may also spank or cane her at a friend’s house. All of this of course is extremely hateful to Sarah — but I tell her it is all excellent training.
One other thing worth mentioning is that from time to time I let Sarah go out in the evening with a friend of mine, Gavin. He has a similar philosophy regarding the place of women. He is not married at present but is looking round for a suitable young woman. Anyway I have told him he is welcome to borrow Sarah for an evening and he will occasionally take her out to the theatre say, or have her round at his flat. Gavin is keen on the cane and strap where young women are concerned and will routinely give Sarah a good going over on these evenings.
It is also accepted that Gavin is free to have sex with Sarah on these occasions and he usually does. Having had a strict upbringing (in the moral sense) Sarah hates this as much as anything else but she has to agree. I tell her she is doing it as a mark of her love and submission to me. I should add perhaps, in case I give the wrong impression, that I don’t go hawking Sarah round in a promiscuous manner. The only other man I have allowed to have her is my medical friend, Michael, the one who checked on Sarah’s virginity for me.
And so, as they say, to bed. Sarah is very good and expert in bed now. She is a naturally voluptuous girl and I have taught her how to use her lovely body to give me the utmost pleasure. I think she is best when I have just given her a caning, it seems to add an urgency to her lovemaking which is an added bonus. I also enjoy her very much after she’s been out for the evening with Gavin. A theatre visit perhaps but after that Gavin will have taken Sarah back to his flat to use the cane on her. And Sarah has also reluctantly had to have sex with him as well. Yes my lovely wife is especially enjoyable then.

5 comments:

  1. Excellent, sound, common sense stuff and a very enjoyable and stimulating read. I think my one misgiving would be the bit about her being shown off to just about anyone, I think that could cause some embarrassment and not just for the wife. I think you'd need to sound people out a bit before you did that, although you wouldn't need to let the missus know about it. Otherwise this chap could write a very good marriage manual and be an excellent counsellor too.

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  2. This little story ought to be required reading for all young men contemplating marriage. It would save much heartache and financial woes later if all marriages were conducted in this firm but fair manner. Too many young women have had their silly little heads filled with all sort of rot about 'rights' and 'equality' where in fact what the really need is a man like this to take them under his wing and to protect and provide, dispensing correction when required.

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    1. Wise words, Harold, wise words. Much of the ill in this world comes from women getting above themselves and disturbing the natural order of life. I'm a firm believer in the cane both for wives and for adult daughters. The man must be master in his own home.

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    2. I dream of a day when the natural order is restored and the sound of rattan cracking against female buttocks,
      and the sobs and pleas of wives and daughters is as normal a sound in the suburbs as birdsong!

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    3. Ah yes, Harold, birdsong. What a lovely comparison.

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