Letter From Shana

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. We both 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 and 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. However, 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 sundress, 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 made me feel 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. The best part of it 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. During months six to nine of his training, this was an often occurrence. 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. The spanking helped but I still felt subtle hints of resistance.

It was around that time that I first developed a 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 longtime 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 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 chastised husband to a group of lady friends is a very powerful way of enhancing his submission and further increasing control. The articles also indicated it was very challenging and that it needed to be handled delicately. 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 to 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 that 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 and track Rick's progress, but also 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. 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 backtalk 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. Men body value these body parts 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 deliver 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 manipulate Rick's pleasure and pain centers directly, 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. While 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. I kept him standing there quietly for a few minutes until I was finished with my personal task. Finally I raised my 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 instructions.

"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 I have 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 in this relationship that I make the rules and you follow them?"

"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, to no avail. When the initial shock subsided, 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. "Those suits had better be absolutely immaculate. I can't stress it enough. 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 could, all the while 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. We laughed together and 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. Judging from Rick's sulking the morning of the big event, this was hard enough in and of itself for him to take. (Brief aside: His sulking stopped when I put him on a 15-minute pulse cycle).

You can imagine their surprise when they entered the living room, naked with the exception of their DL2000-outfitted CBs. They were expecting to see only Michelle and me, but instead were faced with four additional 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 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 in unison 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. 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 be 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 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.