Husband Fights Back

This is a letter written by a husband to explain his relationship to his wife.

It is pure fiction - and a bit far out there I suppose. If this type of story is not your thing then move along to another category, maybe Loving Wives, although there isn't much love there, mostly cheating wives and revenge stories.

Let me know what you think.

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Hello,

My name is Dave. I'm married to Emma. Well, more correctly, I'm owned by Emma, or 'Ma'am' as I call her. We have been married about four years, the last two of which have been as a Dominant and submissive relationship. Emma is the Dominant and I am the submissive. I didn't start out to be submissive, but it crept up on me and now look where I am.

Emma wrote to everyone about a year ago to extol the value of keeping her husband, me, in chastity and turning me into the servant that she really wanted. It was either that or boot me out. I wasn't living up to her standards. And so over a period of about a year my life and our marriage changed gradually to the point that I was wearing a chastity cage on my cock to stop any chance that I might masturbate, and she even added an extra feature. I know that she told you all about it. It wasn't really a marriage anymore. Not even close. She called it 'loving female domination.' I didn't see the 'love' part. But I did feel the 'domination' part.

Things between us were not always this way but evolved into this kind of relationship starting about two years after we got married. I'm not sure why we are still married; I mean, I'm not sure why she has not decided to just get rid of me, throw me out to the curb and divorce me. But then that would mean that she wouldn't have a servant to cater to all her needs here at home.

You see, I do all the domestic work for her. She is the breadwinner in our relationship, and I am the domestic servant to attend to whatever she wants.

Now, you're thinking that our sex life might not be the best, and you would not be wrong in that thought. When we got married our sex life was great; we had sex four or five times a week. For the last two years I have not had sex with my wife at all. I have given her oral sex whenever she has wanted, which is two and three times a day, but I have not put my cock in my wife for quite some time now.

I know what you're thinking, and you are right. I'm pretty much defeated by her to the point that I'm her servant and slave. She commands and I obey. And I obey completely and quickly. If I do not there are consequences and they are painful.

Emma fitted me with a cock cage so that she would have control of my ability to masturbate and to regulate when I would be allowed to orgasm. When a woman controls a man's ability to orgasm, then she controls the man. Masturbation and orgasm only happen every few months for me. If I have been a particularly good servant, I can be free of the cock cage for a short time and she will give me a hand job. Usually it is just to the point where I am about to orgasm and then she stops, puts ice on my cock and stuffs it back in the cock cage. It's fucking torture.

The worst part is that she added a device called the DreamLover2000 to the cock cage. It's an electronic shock machine that the company who sells it calls a 'male management system.' That's polite bullshit to mean a device that allows Emma to electrically shock my cock and scrotum whenever she wants. It's a way for her to have total control of me. It works. Too well if you ask me, but she isn't asking me, ever.

Emma disciplines me at least once a week. She bought a punishment bench and I'm fastened to it so that she can use her wooden paddle or leather strap on my ass. Initially I had to lay over her lap and she spanked me with her bare hand. That was really humiliating. A grown man, a husband, being spanked by his wife. How did that happen? Well it did. And that speaks volumes about me and my 'wife,' mistress really.

Then she cranked it up a notch and bought that damn bench and the discipline level went up fast. She takes her good old time every Sunday night as she reviews the week and grades my performance as her 'husband.'. She reviews what I did correct and what I did wrong. If I have been found to be acceptable as her servant then I get the maintenance discipline, which is 30 stokes with the leather strap. I must count out each one and thank her for the privilege of being disciplined. "One, thank you Ma'am" and on to "thirty, thank you Ma'am" is the way that it normally goes.

If I have failed in any way during the week then the discipline is increased to an amount that she decides. Minor infractions get me ten extra cracks of the strap. More serious failures might see her step it up to twenty more and if it has been a serious failure on my part then she goes to a punishment level which then calls for the birch cane to be used on me. That fucking thing hurts; a lot. I work hard to avoid that.

After my discipline on the bench is completed then I must sit on my stool in the corner to contemplate the next week and how I will approach my duties as her 'husband.' I'm not really a husband, we both know that. Any treatment that I get is nowhere close to how a normal husband is treated by his wife.

The stool is also a disciplinary tool that Emma uses to reinforce her control of me. You see the stool has a silicone phallus attached to the center of it and I am commanded to sit on it with the phallus up inside my anus. My feet go on a shelf about a foot below the seat level. I must put my hands behind my head and keep my back straight. Emma frequently likes to run her hands over my shoulders and chest and tell me how proud she is of me the way that I take my discipline and punishment. She tells me that she loves me more and more all the time and that I am the perfect husband for her this way.

I must tell you that I feel totally defeated by her. I'm afraid of her and what she will do to me. She owns my cock and balls. She owns me. I'm her slave and servant. I know that. But I'm not sure how much more I can take.

Emma gave away most of my clothing. I work naked around the house. I cook, clean, do laundry, wash dishes, make her bed, clean her bathroom, dust, polish and everything else in the house naked. The only time I can wear clothing is when we leave the house. I do the food shopping on foot. There is a supermarket about 20 blocks from the house and I walk there twice a week to buy food. I carry it all home and then do the cooking.

The yard work, or cleaning her car, is another time that I am allowed the luxury of wearing clothing. I have some athletic shorts and a t-shirt to wear as I cut the lawn and do the other outside jobs. There is a woman who lives a couple of houses away that takes pleasure in watching me work outside. Since I lost 60 pounds and got in shape, she has been keeping a close eye on me as I work. I don't think much will ever come of it.

Whenever Emma decides to have friends over, I am forced to serve her and the other ladies in what for me is the most humiliating costume possible. When Emma has her friend Michelle over, or some of the other woman who know my role in our relationship, I must serve them wearing a pink frilly apron and wear pink 3-inch women's high-heel shoes. It took a long time to get used to walking in those things. And to have to curtsy in front of my wife and her friends was so humiliating that I wished to die. I didn't have the courage to kill myself. I am a coward, I know that.

I must shave off all the hair on my body other than my head and even the hair on my head is kept very short. I cut my own hair with clippers that Emma bought for me. My body is to be kept smooth and ready for my wife to use in whatever manner she sees fit. Usually it is to give her oral sex. I spend hours using my mouth and fingers working on her pussy. I also have the job of making sure that her pussy is smooth and hair-free. I take care of that job in the shower on my knees.

I sleep in the basement on a small cot. It's not much and it isn't fancy. The room is small and located right next to the room where the discipline and punishment bench is located, and of course the lovely stool, is kept. I have a small bathroom with a toilet, sink and tiny shower. My clothing is in a box in the corner. I don't have much. My clothing is mostly for when I do the food shopping or Emma decides that I will go with her someplace, usually to a friend's home and only so that I can serve them in some way.

I do not socialize with my wife or her friends in any way other than to act as a servant, maid, cook and drink-fetcher.

I do not have any money to use for personal purposes. I do not have any cash, a credit card or bank debit card. I do not earn any income anymore. All the money is Emma's. She sold my car last year. She gave away all my sports gear. I used to play golf, occasionally, and I cycled every week. The golf clubs and my mountain bike are both history, given away.

I am not allowed to leave the house without her permission. That damn DreamLover contraption has a sensor built in that detects if I get too far from the monitoring device and sends a shock to my penis and scrotum. If I don't return to an acceptable distance it increases the shock level to the point that it is very painful. The thing has a 'canine' setting. That's where I must get down on my hands and knees for the fucking thing to stop zapping me.

In a nutshell, my life is hell.

I know that eventually it has to end one way or another.

Emma has a close friend, Michelle, who I mentioned earlier, who also has a husband that gets treated in the same way that I do. He did not fare well from the treatment that his wife has given him. Paul has tried to run off multiple times and every time has come back to Michelle. Paul doesn't know how to plan to escape, for that matter neither do I. I have this fantasy that I run off and start a new life someplace else and become a success. So far it is just a fantasy. I haven't figured out a way to make it happen, but I'm working on it.

I figure that eventually Emma will bring home a new boyfriend that she wants to have sex with and will soon want to get married to him. That will mean that she will have to divorce me. We live in a no-fault state so I will be entitled to some of what we had accumulated. Even if I couldn't get half a portion it would be better than nothing. It might be enough to allow me to start a new life. Who knows, I can dream.

I don't see us growing old together. No, that will not be in the cards. Emma will eventually want me gone. My usefulness to her will diminish over time to the point that it will just be inconvenient to have me here. I hope that day comes sooner than later.

When Emma leaves the house or gets home, my job is to be there by the front door to get her coat and hold it for her as she puts it on and then take it and put it in the closet when she gets home. I don't ever speak to her unless she speaks first and then my answers are always 'yes, Ma'am,' I rarely ever say 'no' to her. That would be cause for an instant rebuke and then more punishment to my ass on Sunday night. No, I don't say anything to her unless permitted to speak or if she asks me a question. This is another very distinct way of reinforcing to me that she is the mistress and I am the servant.

My day usually starts very early in the morning. I'm up off my cot about 5 AM and first I get cleaned up. Next, after I come up from the basement, I go to the kitchen to start breakfast preparation. Coffee gets prepared and I take the things that I need to make her breakfast out of the refrigerator and get out the dishes.

After I make coffee, I pour her a cup, add cream, and take it on a tray up to her bedroom. It used to be our bedroom but now it's just her bedroom. I knock on the door and wait for permission to enter the bedroom. Once I have that permission, I open the door, go in, close the door, and take the coffee to her at the side of the bed. She will usually sit up slightly in the bed making her sleepy sounds as she stretches her arms and then reaches for the cup that I have brought her. She takes it and I move back a couple of steps and wait with the tray at my side for her next order.

Normally Emma likes me to get on my knees on the bed and put my lips and tongue and fingers to work on her pussy. As she sits on the bed, sipping her first cup of coffee, with her legs spread, my head is buried between her legs servicing her pussy and clit. It usually takes ten to fifteen minutes for her first orgasm to wash over her causing her to have put her coffee cup on the bedside table. She will slide down on the bed a bit, spread her legs a bit more and grab the back of my head pulling it tighter to her vagina. My tongue is well practiced in pleasing her and I know just how to give her maximum pleasure that will push her to two or three orgasms before she gets up to start her day.

By now it's about 7 AM and Emma is ready to get up, have her morning shower, get dressed and then have breakfast. My job is to wash her back and pussy in the shower. As she dries herself off, I rush to make the bed and lay out her underwear. Then I take the coffee cup away and go down to the kitchen and make her breakfast. She likes orange juice, a bagel with fat-free cream cheese or sometimes an omelette or some fibre cereal. While she eats in the Dining Room, I wait in the kitchen to pour her second cup of coffee (she rarely drinks more than half of the second cup) and then I move to the front door to wait for her to leave to go to her office.

Most mornings she will mention some domestic chore that she wants done that day, so I make that my mission first thing after I clean up the kitchen. My day becomes a repetitive routine of cleaning and polishing and making the house sparkling clean.

Every hour, on the hour, I stop what I am doing and do some pushups and situps. Normally I do 50 of each at a time. The reason for that is to build my upper body strength and build up the muscle in my arms and shoulders. Last year as the state of my marriage (what a sham it is now) started to devolve Emma ordered me to start getting in better physical condition. She has a treadmill in the basement in the same room as the discipline bench and stool. I must run on the treadmill every day for at least 5 miles. So between the treadmill, doing pushups and situps and changing my diet I've dropped a lot of weight and added quite a bit of muscle and tone to my upper body. My gut is gone and the love-handles that used to show above my belt are history. If I keep up the pushups and situps I figure that my abs will certainly benefit.

Psychologically, my relationship with Emma is garbage. I know that. She dominates my mind, body and spirit. My self-esteem is in the toilet. I've been beaten down to the point that I don't have the ability to resist anymore. So, I just take whatever Emma dishes out.

I was a failure at my job. The company I worked for downsized and I was put out of a job and couldn't find another. My income went to zero and depression took over. I was in a foul mood most of the time and didn't even get dressed for days at a time. I suppose now I don't need to worry about that as I work naked around the house. That was one of the things that Emma said early on when she took over, 'if you can't at least get dressed then don't wear anything at all.'

It was about that time that she threw out most of my clothing. I don't have a suit anymore; that went first. My sports gear followed right behind it and then most of everything else. Now I just have a very few things so that I can work outside in the yard, do the food shopping or go with Emma in her car if she wants me to go with her somewhere. Normally I don't go with her much to any place; it's usually to her friend Michelle's house, or to her sister's apartment. And always it's to be the servant.

Emma makes a big salary. She works for a commercial real estate development corporation. She has been promoted several times in the last three years and so makes over $200K a year now. I see little in the way of anything even though I do work to earn my keep. Looking after the home is worth something. I don't have access to any money and must account for every penny when I go food shopping at the local market.

I haven't seen a doctor in over three years, but I know that my cholesterol level is lower, and my blood-sugar level is likely lower. My diet consists of precious little fat, grease, cholesterol or sugar. Emma decided early on that she wanted to reduce the number of bad things she was eating thus the same applied to me. The kicker in this is that I only eat what is leftover from her meals. I'm not allowed to prepare a meal for myself. I do sneak raw foods like some fruit and vegetables when I get a chance. I drink a lot of water. Alcohol is strictly forbidden. Although I have finished off the leftovers of her wine if she leaves some in the glass. It goes straight to my head and makes me dizzy.

I'm getting close to the end of my ability to be Emma's servant. I'm trying to figure a way to get the DreamLover belt from around my waist. It's a problem because the belt has a steel cable inside it, and it's fastened with a padlock in the center of my back. The cock cage also has a padlock. Emma keeps the keys to both locks in the safe in her bedroom. She changed the code to open the safe so that only she has access to the keys.

At one point I had lost enough weight that the belt would just slip off my hips, but it was attached to the cock cage and that damned thing was tight to my cock and scrotum. Short of cutting off my own balls there was no way to simply slide out of it. The belt that holds the DreamLover in place was replaced with a smaller one. This one won't go over my hips no matter how hard I try.

Oh, oh! I gotta go, the DreamLover just zapped my cock, that means that Emma wants me for something. I'll write more later.

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It's been three days until I could continue this letter. Emma wanted me to work on pressing some of her expensive clothing. To get my attention she explained what she wanted and then turned on the DreamLover so that it would shock me every 15 seconds for 10 minutes. It was set to the low setting but it sure let's me know who the boss is. Whenever the shock hits me, my muscles in my groin react and my ass cheeks tense for a second and it makes you jump.

If she zaps me on the medium setting it hurts even more and the high setting is very painful. The damned thing has a Canine setting. That's where it makes a beeping noise to warn me to drop down to my hands and knees in a position like a dog. It senses body position and if I don't get down fast enough, usually about five seconds, it starts zapping me on level 3. That fucking hurts. Emma has done that a few times early on when I was made to wear this thing, and it was to show me that she controls me completely. She would keep me there as she would issue orders and then tell me that I was permitted to stand. As always, I was mute other than to say 'yes, Ma'am.'

Three days ago Emma announced that she would be bringing a friend home for supper. My answer? "Yes, Ma'am." She dictated the menu that she wanted me to prepare and serve and some other small details.

So, last night Emma arrived home with her guest. I was, surprised, no, flabbergasted, to see that it was a man. Didn't know who the fuck he was. As I opened the door for them, I could not help but be shocked that she was arm-in-arm with this guy. 'What-the-fuck?' is what immediately hit me. I stood stock still as I looked at her and then him.

I didn't start to take their coats fast enough, so Emma reached in her pocket to get the DreamLover remote and hit the button to give me a quick zap on level 2. This brought me out of my stupor. "Dave, take our coats, please."