BDSM Library - Story: Letter From Shana, Chapter: Part 1

Letter From Shana

Hello,

My name is Shana. I'm a 32-year-old, happily-married suburban woman. This is the story of how my marriage came to be the way it is.

Let's start with the basics. I come from an upper middle class family. I'm white, hold a masters degree, and am a marketing director at a software company. I like to read books, go shopping, and eat at good restaurants. I exercise regularly and eat a well-rounded diet. I don't touch red meat.

I don't think I'm particularly beautiful but I'm comfortable with my body. I used to think I was short at 5'4" and 115 pounds, but I no longer feel the least bit short. My body and my mind have proven more than adequate. Nowadays, I enjoy the fact that I'm much smaller physically than my husband, Rick, but that I have complete physical and psychological control over him.

Let's start at the beginning. I met Rick at a bar six years ago. He’s a year older than me, so our ages and experiences were relatively similar. He was full of bravado, he spoke fast, and he made me laugh. Even in those earlier days, I could see Rick had a certain kindness about him. In time, he began to change, as his male ego got the better of him.

When we first met, I was "typical" in the sense that I had a vanilla sex life. I always enjoyed "regular" intercourse, although nowadays it doesn't touch the type of sexual pleasure and satisfaction I achieve on a regular basis. Back when we used to have intercourse, sometimes I would come, usually I wouldn't. Rick was okay in bed, a good looking guy, polite, had a solid education and a decent job. We were married two years after we met.

Things started to go south in the first year after we got married. Rick got less interested in sex. We spent less time together. Much of the problem was related to the success gap at our jobs. I got promoted early and often, while Rick's career began to stall. My salary soon doubled his and whenever the topic of career came up among friends, Rick would get passive-aggressive. One night, at a dinner party he said, "Shana's boss sure has the hots for her." As if that was the only reason my career was more successful than his. We had a nasty fight on the drive home that night. It was a ridiculous comment.

One day, I was doing some things on the computer late at night on line and I found a hidden folder filled with all this pornography. I wasn't overly surprised that Rick masturbated when I was not around, but some of the material was chauvinistic and degrading toward women. Other material featured clothed women abusing naked men. You think that would have awakened me to the possibilities, but I was in a negative frame of mind. I no longer felt proud of the man I had married. When I confronted Rick about it, he criticized me for not "spreading my legs often enough" for him. A horrible fight ensued and we almost separated that very evening.

After that, things become very chilly between us. Our marriage felt like a sinking ship to me. And that's when an important new girlfriend came into my life at the perfect time. Michelle was a highly successful associate at a downtown law firm. We met through a mutual friend who found out we worked in the same building. We first started doing aerobics together early in the morning and soon after that we started meeting regularly for lunch. We were the same age. We both married guys a year older than us. We both had strong careers, but Michelle seemed happier than me.

One day, at lunch I broke down when speaking to Michelle about my marriage. Before I had a chance to regain my composure, Michelle reached across the table and took my arm. "Shana, I'm so glad you were willing to talk to me about this. I seriously think I might be able to solve all your problems, and make your life great."

When I asked her to tell me more, she said the two words that would change my life: "Male chastity." Initially I was taken aback. I feared my friend was this weird kinkster, but as she began to speak so glowingly and confidently about her marriage, I quickly dropped all my insecurities. By the end of the conversation, we were both smiling. “I had a feeling a girl like you would be interested,” I remember Michelle concluding. “You’re quite feminine, but you give off a subtle dominant vibe.”

If you're reading this letter, chances are you know all about male chastity, so I'll spare you the rudimentary details. What I will tell you is that I was immediately drawn to the idea of bringing this into my own marriage. It was like the entire thing clicked. You have to understand, Michelle is very convincing, and the way she presented it to me made me realize how perfect it would be for my own life. I liked the idea of making the rules and I thought (rightfully so, as it turned out) that I would enjoy the mental aspects of bending my husband to my will. I think I knew instinctively that I was capable of employing the proper techniques on Rick and gaining the permanent upper hand on our relationship. I know some women run for the door when introduced to the male chastity lifestyle, but not me. At no point did I feel the least bit worried that male chastity was mean, or unfair to the male. For one, life wasn't meant to be fair. Putting aside the issue of fairness, was this something my husband could potentially benefit from? In all seriousness, I believed right away that male chastity was the best course of action for me (especially me), for Rick, and for our marriage.

I soon began looking into websites Michelle recommended to me. Michelle had a style that I identified with. She had no interest in leather, whips, chains, or over-the-top style female domination where her husband Paul was turned into a sissy or a wimp. At the same time, Michelle had a steadfast belief in honest-to-goodness female superiority. She was convinced marriages should be female-led, with the husband's sole focus on serving and obeying the wife. The sites I visited featured intelligent women, and men, who wrote about the incredible benefits of a female-led marriage built around male chastity.

A visit to Michelle's place revealed just how great her life was. We sat and sipped wine while Paul served our every need. Most of the time he wore boxer briefs, but at one point Michelle had him lower his underpants. I had seen photos of chastised penises on-line, but seeing it in person was a revelation. Michelle had chosen a clear plastic sheath, which left nothing to the imagination. I remember being delighted at how small the sheath was, and how truly contained Paul was. The sheath forced him to remain so flaccid, and unthreatening, that his scrotum, appropriately swollen with pent-up semen, dwarfed his penis. Some women would have been grossed out, but not this woman. I especially liked how embarrassed and, well, chastised Paul's face looked. Michelle demonstrated his confinement by casually picking up his incarcerated penis and dropping it back down against his testicles, where it came to rest without the slightest hint of protest or rebellion. What a symbolic moment that was. I could not contain my laughter. You have to understand, I didn't want Paul to feel badly about his situation; it's just that I found humor in the lewd spectacle. I also felt genuine joy at the implications of what I was witnessing. Michelle laughed along with me and pinched Paul's red cheek. "See how he blushes, Shana? But he loves his new life. Don't you, Paul?"

"Yes, Miss," Paul said, not looking like he loved anything about his situation at that moment.

Michelle treated Paul more like her prized pupil than her husband, which is to say with plenty of love, but also as the clear authority figure in the relationship. Not only that but she took an aloof, arrogant tone with him. I soon learned that this attitude is crucial in helping establish a sense of superiority in the relationship. Michelle explained it best: "Men want and need an authority figure in their lives, Shana. They won't ask for it, at least not initially, but they learn to crave it."

I find it interesting how women have been so focused on equality when equality creates all kinds of problems for a marriage. Someone needs to be the leader, the decision-maker, and the final authority, and that someone should absolutely be the woman. Women like me and Michelle were meant to take the lead. It's the way we were built.

Introducing chastity to Rick's life was quite challenging, but it was the type of challenge I embraced. This probably sounds egotistical, but when I put my mind to something I've always had a great deal of success. Also, Rick was ripe for the plucking. In retrospect, I should have seen the signs. The pornographic imagery Rick used to masturbate to featured, in some cases, acts of female dominance. And the truth is, even before I took him in hand, I always won when Rick and I argued. It had been a theme since our early days. Rick used to joke about it before things got chilly between us. I can assure you he doesn't joke about it anymore.

You know how this story goes, so I'll spare you too many details. It's an understatement to say Rick was hesitant when I suggested our marriage should be based on female (my) authority. I showed him a few articles that discussed how a female-led, chaste-male marriage led to fantastic results for both people in the marriage. I was able to coax him along by holding the promise of the best sexual pleasure of his life, dangling that irresistible carrot a few inches in front of him, using my sexuality to tease him, coerce him, and mold him into something incredibly useful. Useful is a harsh word; I want to emphasize that I love my husband and love the way he has fallen into line, despite numerous efforts from his male ego to extricate himself from the situation.

Look at it this way: Rick was married to a highly successful, attractive woman, and it wasn’t going to get any better for him. While I have no doubts his mind wrestled with the implications of my demands, he ultimately concluded that it was best to fall in line. That makes the process sound much simpler than it actually was though.

My initial strategy was based on the idea that Rick always loved when I provided him with manual stimulation. So when I began to regularly tease and fondle his penis, aided by the best on-line advice and my wonderful friend Michelle, Rick had little chance to resist. I like the fact that I was the aggressor and that I was essentially sexually assaulting Rick. It felt like a small measure of pay-back for all the unwanted sexual assaults women have dealt with from men. Unlike all the women who were assaulted against their will, Rick readily went along with the new attention he was receiving; though he didn’t realize the implications were so far reaching, no pun intended, until it was too late.

The fact of the matter is that I have given Rick the best sexual pleasure of his life; though not with the frequency he would like. This is but a minor detail. The point is I've completely changed the game for Rick, and he is a better person for it. But forgive me for digressing. Let’s get to the key details...

Over a course of 14 months, I gradually enrolled Rick in highly organized chastity program. Those early days were challenging. There were times when Rick said he couldn't do it and he wanted to leave the relationship. I would always greet his pleas with what I like to refer to as feminine arrogance. I didn't want him to leave, but I was willing to go on without him if he was unwilling to abide by a new set of rules. Let it be clear, I never made Rick do this; I only informed him, as a teacher might inform an obstinate but promising student, that this was the best path forward for us, and that he eventually would come to realize that it would be rewarding to serve me, infinitely more rewarding than his current, empty life of sports, internet porn, and masturbation.

It didn't hurt that I'm good with my hands. I've always been an exceptionally fast typist and I was a near-prodigy piano player in my early teen years. Rick always loved my hand-jobs, but that was before I began to focus on technique, with an end goal in mind. In the first 60 days of Rick's chastity program, I became an expert at teasing and manipulating his penis, while he confessed how much he loved to be touched that way and promised me he would give chastity a chance.

The first time I put him in chastity (a clear, penis-shaped plastic shell like the one Michelle had Paul in), we agreed on a 48-hour trial. When the time elapsed, I casually unlocked his belt and stroked him gently. In no time, I had him on the brink. At that point, I slowed my stroking and made him promise me that he would wear the belt for three days if I let him come. After three days, I repeated the process and made him agree to five days. I could see Rick's brain struggling with what was happening, but I'm proud to say he stayed the course. Or maybe it's more accurate to say that I kept him on course.

I was really quite adept at this method. Soon, I worked him up to a full week in chastity. This time, when I brought him to the edge, I put him in the “power grip” (penis firmly in one hand, testes firmly in the other hand) and whispered, "Who controls your penis, Rick?" I couldn't believe my own audacity! And Rick looked almost possessed as he gasped, “You do, Shana.” He readily agreed when I told him his next release would not be for two full weeks if I was to grant him the ejaculation he wanted so badly. He proceeded to have a teeth-gnashing orgasm, his body convulsing in ways I hadn't seen it convulse before. I sat in a chair and watched him while he wiped himself off with paper towels. He kept giving me this sheepish, bewildered look.

I motioned for him to stand in front of me. "Okay, time to lock you back up."

This was and is a favorite ritual of mine. I never was the type to rub it in his face when I locked Rick back up, at least not too much. But I always made it a point to linger once his penis was snug in its shell casing. "Let me check to make sure it's secure," I said, tugging gently at his equipment. Once I snapped the lock shut, I gave the outer shell a good flick before tucking the key back beneath my neck. Both Michelle and I prefer to wear our chastity keys on a locket, but only when we are home. It's a nice visual reminder to our husbands about whose world they live in.

Rick complained a lot when we went from one week to two full weeks. I countered his crankiness with sweetness. It wasn't hard to be sweet; I was happy with the direction my life was going in and any time Rick complained, I would turn on my feminine charm. I'm not ugly by any stretch, and I made it a point to wear Rick's favorite perfume. It always worked wonders on him. I also wore make-up at home and, rather than the sweatpants I used to wear, I took to wearing skirts and informal dresses cut above the knee. For the first time in my life, I felt sexually powerful. Women who have adopted this lifestyle can relate. One when I was teasing him, he pulled violently away and said, "I know what you're trying to do!" I proceeded to act all hurt and say, "I thought we were in this together." And Rick apologized. I told him I loved him very much and began rubbing his stomach. "That hurts," he said, "but I think I can take it." He was buckling before my very eyes. But I knew I had a long way to go. And cranky men can be unpredictable, so it was hardly a done deal.

After we got through the first two challenging months, I finally got Rick to agree to try a month in chastity. It took a lot of coaxing on my part. Any time he complained to me about how "worried" he was, I would take him into bed with me and tease him mercilessly. Rick's penis would strain against its prison and leak fluid. One night, I think it was the third week of his one-month sentence, Rick seemed especially intimate with me in bed (He's since surpassed this, but this night was a big leap). "I think I really like this, Shana," he whispered, as I caressed his inner thigh. He began kissing my neck and breasts with great passion and I slid him down between my legs. Talk about sparks flying. It was an incredibly triumphant feeling, having my husband so totally focused on pleasuring my vagina while ignoring his own needs. When Rick finished, we held each other closely and he kept telling me how weird he felt and how this thing was "growing on him." Talk about irony.

The next two weeks were amazing and three months into our new life, Rick had passed the One-month Test. That night, I unlocked him and stroked him to the most intense orgasm I had ever seen a male have. It lasted over a minute. Rick's entire body heaved. His eyes rolled back into his head. He moaned loudly and repeatedly, while scratching at his nipples. Semen oozed endlessly from his penis. I had never seen anything like it. Near the end of his orgasm, I noticed drool coming from his mouth. The whole spectacle made me realize how animalistic men can be. The look Rick gave me in the minutes that followed is a look I've since become quite familiar with: Utter devotion. It was a moment I'll never forget.

It took a lot longer than that to get him to fall completely into line. I made steady progress in the first six months, but he still had moments where he would get upset with me and lash out. His complaints were always about how long I kept him denied, which at that time was still around a month. I decided it was time to further impose my will upon Rick, with the goal of enhancing my dominion over him. I’m very methodical and I spent a lot of time thinking of what my options were.

One day, while driving home, it hit me. I had saved his pornography collection in a folder only I had access to. When I got home I decided to review it again. I saw he had a number of videos featuring women spanking men. Why hadn’t I thought of this before? It seemed ideal and I loved the psychological implications of spanking my husband. I resolved to make it a regular part of our marriage.

That night, I told him to strip and come to the living room. A full month had passed since his last orgasm, and though I had since docked him another two weeks for bad behavior, it hadn’t stopped him from complaining bitterly. And so I made Rick think I was going to release him from chastity after only the month. I armed myself with Rick’s hairbrush, a big wooden thing, and pulled a chair in the middle of the room. This was a key moment in my ultimate victory over my husband and my marriage.

In bounced Rick, all naked and dog-like, his caged penis bobbing up and down in anticipation. His face dropped when he saw me sitting there holding his hairbrush.

"Rick-" I began.

"You can't spank me, Shana," he cut me off.

I took a deep breath and spoke very calmly: "Rick, do you think you've been happier these past six months?"

(The reason I asked him this question is that I honestly felt Rick had seemed happier. You know he was much more attentive to me, giving me massages, and doing more housework, and using his tongue on me. While I no longer permitted him to penetrate me, he had always preferred me to use my skilled hands on him in the past, so it wasn't that big a deal to him. Rick had gotten used to the feeling of being in chastity and at times during our worship-Shana sessions, he would confess to me that he felt an odd sense of happiness.)

"I don't know," he said. "It's really hard sometimes."

"Not that often," I said, unable to resist.

"Damn it, Shana, this isn't easy!"

Now I knew I had him on the run. "It isn’t supposed to be easy, honey. Look, Rick, I think you've been wonderful during this whole transition period. I love you more than ever, but I think you still need to understand who makes the rules in the relationship and you need to learn to stop nagging me for early chastity release."

I couldn't believe how confident I sounded! Rick just stood there, his face all red, and I knew I had him.

"Rick, look at me. You know your pornography stash had some videos of women spanking men. What's up with that?"

"I don't know, Shana.”

"I'll give you two reasonable choices. You can either submit to a spanking and I will permit you an orgasm in two weeks time with good behavior. Or you can disobey me and I'll have no choice but to extend your chastity period to another full month."

And Rick just stood there! I could see him weakening before my very eyes. Then he began to get choked up. "I don't know, Shana. I don't know."

So I stood and gently took his arm. With my most coaxing voice, I said, "C'mon Rick. Let yourself go. You know deep down inside you need this."

I turned guided him back to the chair and he came along without resistance. "I'm very proud of you, Rick." I instructed him to look at me, and I felt honest-to-goodness supremacy as my eyes looked past his own scared eyes and deep into his soul. "Come on. It's for the best."

I didn't intend to spank him particularly hard that first time. He was already crying and I had already made my point. But the hairbrush made such a nice sound on his ass that I couldn't help but give him a nice solid paddling. When he stood, I held him in my arms for a long time as he sobbed. When I could not wait a second longer, I stood and slid my fingers beneath my skirt, hiking down my panties. Rick immediately buried his head between my thighs and I must have had four or five spectacular orgasms, back to back to back. I was amazed at his effort and his improved technique. I went to the bathroom to freshen up, while Rick and his moist, red face made us dinner.

Returning to the kitchen in a sun dress, I saw my husband standing red-assed at the stove, where he belonged (I since have attached a chain to the stove and regularly lock him to it for beautiful psychological effects). I couldn’t resist giving him a final hard slap on each cheek. I loved the way his hips pumped reflexively, and so I gave each bun a nice pinch. "You can expect to be spanked regularly from now on." The look between us made me know just how real this was to him.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, without warning.

My initial reaction was that I didn't want him calling me "Ma'am." It felt old. But I didn't say that to Rick at the time and the more I thought about it, the more it felt so right. And the best part was I didn't have to instruct Rick to call me that. He just did. The title stuck and I was and am "Ma'am," to my husband.

After that watershed moment, things got better. I began conducting formal behavioral reviews every Sunday evening. Usually it resulted in at least a few spanks and often, from months six to nine, I would really lay into him.

I also spanked him during the week when he displeased me, which was often during months six-to-nine of his training. He was still slow to get chores done around the house; he didn't like having to wash dishes, or do the laundry, or iron my clothes. I think he viewed these new tasks as "feminine" in nature. He still did them, but his attitude wasn't always where I wanted it to be, which is to say I expected him to do these chores with total deference, good humor, and gratitude. Suffice it to say he had things that needed fixing.

It was around that time that I first developed a secret desire to show him off to other women. Michelle was one, of course, but I had a younger sister who lived in the area. Julia was 29 and recently had broken up from a long time boyfriend (I didn't have a chance to get to her until it was too late). And our 24-year-old cousin Kayla lived in the area. She lived with a couple of friends from college and we had recently gone for drinks and had a great time.

Several on-line articles had suggested that outing your husband to a group of lady friends was a very powerful way of enhancing his submission and further increasing control. But the articles also indicated it was very challenging and it was a moment that needed to be handled delicately. With me being the planner that I am, I wanted to make sure I had all the bases covered, so as to have the maximum chance for success. About that time, I stumbled upon the website for the DreamLover2000.

The timing of my discovery of the DreamLover2000 could not have been more precise. Rick's resistance of his new regime had slowly been wearing down between months six and nine and it was time for the final chapter in my comprehensive victory over him and our marriage. As I read some of the literature behind the DL2000, I knew right away I had found the solution to the minor issues that remained with Rick's training.

Being the organized, thorough woman that I am, I was extremely impressed with how comprehensive the DL2000 was. Not only was the product itself revolutionary, the accompanying programs and services were superb. I knew I had found the ultimate “male management” device, and that my life, as good as it had become, was about to become even better. You have to understand; I thoroughly enjoyed the process of training Rick. The DL2000 made that process even more rewarding. I was and am especially fond of the remote control, as well as the computer interface and the male training programs they have on line. I was thrilled when I discovered the device could be directly linked to the training program. Now I could simply sit Rick in front of the computer and leave him there, actively training to be a more obedient husband while I spent leisure time getting my hair or nails done or dining with friends. It gave me great peace of mind knowing the computer programs would not only test Rick's progress, but provide direct discipline in the event it was unsatisfactory. Talk about a motivator. I find the automated element of his training very gratifying, not having to worry, or even think about Rick when I'm out and about. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

When I first told Rick I had ordered the DL2000, and explained what the device would do for me, he had the typical male response -- anger, fear, etc. But I brushed his objections aside by informing him that his new chastity release schedule was two months and I would move it to three months without a moment's hesitation if he gave me any more attitude. That quickly put an end to his protestations and he went back to loading the dishwasher, resigned and defeated yet again. As I sipped iced tea on the back deck, I could not help but smile. Our arguments were increasingly one-sided and decisive. I suppose it's a distinct mental advantage when one party is wearing comfortable, feminine clothing and the other party is wearing a male chastity belt and nothing else. What a feeling it was, lounging comfortably, and knowing my husband was taking care of all the dirty work. And soon he would do it with less back-talk and less attitude. I vowed to teach him to serve me with complete deference and acceptance of his place.

As soon as I installed the DL2000 onto his chastity belt, the results were instantaneous, and spectacular. The DL2000 focuses its attentions on the male's pleasure (and pain) centers -- the testicles and the tender underside of the penis, known as the frenum. These are the body parts men value the most and this is where the DL2000 delivers its inter-disciplinary payload. Talk about focused training, a woman can’t do any better than that.

When I began an initial testing phase on Rick, it was clear from his reactions that the device was more than powerful enough. In fact, the DL2000 comes with three punishment settings, and I have yet to use level three. I doubt I ever will, since level one is remarkably effective and level two has him jumping to the moon and back for me. The mere potential to use level three is the ultimate threat and it's nice to know I have that power at my fingertips should I ever feel the need to use it. In the early stages, I liked to threaten Rick with level three, but he has become so incredibly compliant that I don't often have to say the word. Yet I know Rick is exceedingly aware of what the device's capabilities are, should he have a major slip-up, though we both know that's not going to happen.

The other part of the actual remote control that I love is the ability it gives me to simply put him on a regular pulse cycle and forget about him while I take care of my own business. The makers of the device are clear that sometimes it is hard for a woman to punish someone she loves (the computer learning programs that I discussed earlier play into this theme as well), so the automatic feature allows me to make a decision and not have to continue to press the buttons to get through to Rick. One simple press is all it takes to delivery continuous discipline and behavioral correction for as long as I feel it is needed. So while I simply “press and move on,” the female scientists behind the DL2000 tell me Rick is thinking of nothing but me and the need to obey me.

As I have said previously, it's remarkable the enduring power a woman holds when she has control of a man's genitals. But the DL2000 takes it to the next level by enabling me to directly manipulate Rick's pleasure and pain centers with virtually no effort. All I do is make the initial decision to discipline Rick and the DL2000 easily overwhelms Rick's inadequate psychological defenses.

I'll never forget the first time I used the DL2000 to bring Rick into line. What a perfectly executed humiliation it was, and there is no more powerful lesson than a humiliating one. It was a Saturday afternoon. We had just spent the previous two hours doing yard work, which consisted of me lounging on the patio, reading Jane Austen, while Rick mowed, raked, and landscaped. When I was satisfied with the state of my yard, I instructed Rick to shower off and meet me in the living room when he was clean. When he was upstairs, I texted Michelle and made plans to meet her at Starbucks after my manicure. When Rick walked in, I was sitting comfortably on the couch, updating my outlook schedule. He knows to wait until I speak to him first; it’s part of our new arrangement. So I kept him standing there quietly for a minute or two until I was finished with my personal task. Finally I raised me eyes and found my husband standing as he’s been trained to stand in this situation, perfectly straight, hands at his sides, waiting for my instruction.

"I should be home in a couple of hours. Four of my suits are in the basement. They need ironing."

"But honey, uh Ma'am. I thought you said I could watch the game."

"You can DVR the game and watch it this evening, assuming you do a great job ironing my clothes."

He didn't say a word, but I knew he was upset. Before I discuss what happened next, I want to preface it by saying everything I have ever done to Rick has been done with love, but there were times when Rick needed some hard lessons. This was one of those times.

"Do we have a problem, Rick?" I said, removing the DL2000 from my purse. “Because I’ve been looking for an opportunity to use my new toy.”

"No, Ma'am," he said quickly.

“Then why are you giving me attitude?”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Rick. How many times do you have to be taught that I make the rules in this relationship?”

“I don’t know, Ma’am.”

“That’s obvious. Well let me make it abundantly clear. When I tell you to do something you do it.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

"I think you need an attitude adjustment," I said. And with that, I set him on a level two regular pulse schedule, set to last 15 minutes.

"I'm sorry, "Ma'am," he said, wincing noticeably as the first pulse hit him where it counted. I enjoyed the visual of watching his knees bend and his hips pump, as the DL2000 performed its magic.

"I'm sure you'll be sorry for the next fifteen minutes. Or should we go for level three and 30 minutes?"

"No, Ma'am, thank you, Ma'am, mmmmph! 15 minutes is enough, thank you."

"Good. Then get to work, like I told you in the first place." I placed the remote control back in my pocketbook, zipped it, placed it over my shoulder and stood. I stared amusedly at my hubby, who was moving at double-speed across my spacious living room for the basement door, as if by moving faster he could escape his punishment. Suddenly his body contorted mid-step and his ass cheeks clenched. He groaned and his hands moved instinctively to protect his defenseless groin. When the shock was over, he moved even faster! What a perfect example of the awesome motivating power of the DL2000. But I wasn’t finished.

“Oh, Rick," I added, stopping him in his tracks. "Assuming you do a good job, I won't need to use this when I get back." I tapped my pocketbook for emphasis.

"Yes, Ma'am." I saw him wince again, as the next scheduled pulse further washed away any potential resistance.

“The next time I tell you to do something, Rick, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to do it, Ma’am.”

"I'm very proud of you, dear. And I fully expect my suits will look as good as new when I return home."

"Yes, Ma'am, they will. Thank you, Ma'am."

"Good. Run along then,” I said with total condescension. I turned and headed for the door, totally secure in the knowledge that my husband was being put to good use and I could focus on my own life. Though I must confess, as I backed the car out of my driveway and drove down the street, I thought of Rick, running around my basement, trying to iron my suits as fast as he can and falling deeper and deeper into submission, as his groin was issued one painful reminder after another of my superiority over him. My thoughts then drifted to my crotch and how it was tingling with pleasure.

When I returned home, my suits were hung neatly in my closet and looked as though they had been professionally dry-cleaned. Rick was in the kitchen working on dinner. When I entered the room, he came and kneeled before me without me saying a word and asked me if I needed a foot massage. As he massaged my feet, he looked up at me with that submissive puppy-dog look I have come to know and love and said, "I love you, Ma'am." That's when I knew the DL2000 was perfect for us. The intimacy we shared when Rick massaged my feet and subsequently worshipped my vagina was beyond my wildest dreams before Michelle introduced me to this lifestyle.

Speaking of Michelle, the DL2000 presented me the perfect opportunity to return the favor to her. When I spoke to her about its amazing effectiveness, she quickly ordered one for her and Paul. A month after that, at lunch, she spoke in glowing terms about how some of his prior minor behavioral infractions had totally melted away. And we drank a toast to the DL2000.

I had one final step to take care of. A few Saturdays after I first outfitted Rick in his new DL2000, I invited Michelle, Paul, my sister, Julia, along with my cousin Kayla, and her friends Cynthia and Meghan to my home. On the day of Rick and Paul’s outing, we did not tell them what was in store for them. They thought they would be serving just Michelle and me, which, judging from Rick's sulking the morning of the big event, was hard enough for him to take. (Brief aside: His sulking stopped when I put him on a 15-minute pulse cycle).

So imagine their surprise when they entered the living room, naked with the exception of their DL2000-outfitted CBs, expecting to see only Michelle and me, but instead faced with six smiling women. They both froze when they saw how many women were in the room, and I'm sure it didn't help when Kayla and her friends burst out laughing. I let Michelle do the talking.

"Paul and Rick," she began. "Shana and I are very proud of the progress you have made as obedient hubbies and we wanted to show you off to some lady friends. I understand this is probably quite humiliating for you, but it is for your own good. I think I speak for Shana when I say we expect you to be on your best behavior. But just in case there is any doubt..." Michelle turned to me, and we held up our remote control devices and placed our fingers on the buttons. We wanted to coordinate this properly.

"We're putting you on a 15 minute, level two cycle," I said, picking up the reigns from Michelle. "We want you to understand just how important your good behavior is to us on this day, in case you had any doubts about how serious we are about this. "Consider this part of your ongoing education."

Michelle and I pressed the appropriate buttons on our male control devices and we watched as Rick and Paul both instinctively squeezed their thighs together, their groans as coordinated as we hoped they'd be. What a beautiful moment. We informed them that we wanted them to always be on their tiptoes when serving us, as a way of further demonstrating our total control over them. That was my idea.

And presto! Rick and Paul sprung to action. The DL2000 is truly amazing. Level two is maybe a little bit painful; it won't hurt our men, but it surely motivates the hell out of them. And you can be sure they tiptoed around us, which I thought was a beautiful show of obedience on their part, an explicit understanding that our word was law. The best thing was that their shocks were coordinated, so every ten seconds for that initial 15 minutes, their bodies seized up like twin marionettes. The women all found it exceedingly amusing. It laid the groundwork for an afternoon of perfect male behavior. The last thing either of them wanted was to get put back on a pulse cycle.

They proceeded to service us for several hours, while the six of us enjoyed ourselves, drank wine, ate excellent food, and had “girl-talk.” There was no need to use our DL2000 remote controls after that initial salvo. Rick and Paul were flawless in their service of all the women, as was expected. Their embarrassment was palpable too. Both had red faces, a detail not lost on Kayla and her gal-pals. At one point, when the men were serving lunch, Michelle and I explained in great detail how our men used to be compulsive masturbators until we put a stop to it. Kayla and her friends all made fists with their hands and pretended to jerk off. It was one of those semi-cruel, but highly instructional moments I’ve grown to love. My sister Julie punctuated the moment by telling the men she wanted to see how they did it. And Paul and Rick were forced to grab their caged penises and stroke them as though they were masturbating. When the laughter finally died down, Kayla said, “Okay, that’s enough. We’re trying to eat.”

So yes, I suppose our hubbies had a solid dose of humiliation on that day, but it was for the best, and I know deep down they probably enjoyed it. Unlike them, the women didn't have to hide their enjoyment. The men did not say a word unless they were given a direct order. Most of the time it was "Yes, Ma'am," and "Thank you, Ma'am." I don't know that they ever quite got used to being in that exposed, chastised condition, but I'm glad for that. Their deep sense of shame helps keep them in line. The women, in contrast, had a lovely time sharing stories and enjoying our dignified, fully-clothed status. At the end of the afternoon, we put our DL2000 remotes on the coffee table so the men could see them. Kayla and her friends made additional humiliating comments about how well trained they were, as they bowed before their female superiors and thanked all six of us individually and for the honor and privilege of being able to serve and entertain. The sincerity and devotion they showed was highly appropriate. Michelle and I told them how proud we were of them before dismissing them to the kitchen so we could say our goodbyes to my sister, my cousin and her friends.

It is utterly amazing the power a woman has when she holds the key to a man's sexual freedom. You have to experience it yourself to truly understand the enduring psychological dominance that evolves when a man is put in chastity, augmented by a Dreamlover2000, electronic male ownership device.

Both Michelle and I feel a great sense of fullness in our lives. The good thing about males is despite the technologically advanced ways we have of controlling their behavior, it may not be possible to completely destroy their egos. This means their training is never truly complete and there are always new ways of enforcing our supremacy. The fact that we dominate them through their once-prized genitals is a big part of what makes the arrangement so rewarding. We have effectively harnessed the anatomy that made them dominant in more primitive times, and used it against them. How deeply gratifying that fact is.

I'm truly fortunate to have been born in an era where women are taking the upper hand in their marriages with increasing frequency. Michelle and I consider ourselves early adapters and we both take a great deal of pride and joy in the ways in which we have triumphed over our husbands. Critics may argue with some degree of validity that we have reduced them to something less than human. But I would beg to differ. It is through our meticulous planning that Rick and Paul have both found their places in life, at our feet, where they belong. If you asked them how they felt, they would both say with complete conviction that they've never been happier. In fact, the four of us now meet for dinner on Sunday evening. At the end of the evening, we give Paul and Rick their weekly behavioral reviews and take them over our laps. When they’ve had rough weeks, we sometimes switch off and Michelle spanks Rick while I spank Paul. This is a nice touch because neither of us has the slightest misgivings about laying into the other woman’s hubby. That’s the whole point. When it’s over, they kneel before us teary-eyed and thank us for imposing upon them a life of gynarchy-rule. It’s a terrific ritual.

I can't speak for Paul, since he's not mine, but I'm quite sure he is thrilled to submit to Michelle's authority. As for Rick, every night before bedtime, he places his head between my thighs and tells me how honored and overjoyed he is to serve my needs. So you can call him whatever you want -- a wimp, a puppet, a robot, an intelligent lapdog -- it doesn't matter to me. All I know is that we are both happier than ever and live in peace and harmony. For me that means leading the way and having a loving, devoted male taking care of all the things I don't have the time, energy, or interest to involve myself in. For Rick, that means serving a higher power. I'm now the complete center of his world, his Master in every sense of the word. And that's the way it should be.

I was going to have Rick write a few words, but I've pretty much said everything that needs to be said. I speak for him at all times anyway. Plus he is busy taking an advanced housekeeping course on the computer and I don't wish to interrupt him.

Sincerely,

Shana