Earning His Keep

"Carol, ah, what do you plan to do with my...things?"

"Oh, I think I'll leave them right where they are, for now. Dinner won't be ready for quite some time. Just relax, it's your Sunday as well as mine."

I was basting the turkey when he wandered into the kitchen.

"Carol, I tried to go down to my workshop, but the door is locked."

"Yes, I've decided that you've been doing more than sawing wood down there. I think it best that you forget about your workshop. We'll find something else to occupy your time. Now would be a good time to take your shower."

Five years before I'd met Chris, I started a travel agency that has become a very lucrative business. Since money wasn't an issue, Chris had decided that he'd make money by making and selling furniture. He has done neither, but it kept him happy and gave him something to do while I was working. Now, my business was one more thing to control him. He knew that he would be left without an income, should we part company.

"Sit down; dinner is ready."

We dined in the same manner as the night before, with Chris at my feet. The only difference being that he wore nothing but his chastity device. This became our normal routine as time went by.

* * * * *

Bedtime and I found Chris kneeling beside the bed. I was also naked and propped myself up with pillows on the bed.

"Come up here; I want you to eat my pussy before we go to bed. He scurried up on the bed and knelt between my spread legs. I raised my knees and let him watch as I fingered and played with myself. When I was good and wet, I allowed him to lick me. He didn't just lick my pussy, he worshipped it. I do not shave my pussy. I have a nice little cinnamon muff that doesn't require trimming. He gently nestled his face against me. He nuzzled my pussy until my petals blossomed like a silky wet flower. Chris had always been good at cunnilingus, but that night he brought be to several orgasms. Once I was satisfied, I ordered him back on the floor.

"For breaking the rules, you will not be allowed a pillow or blanket. Good night.

I turned off the light and made myself comfortable. Chris did the same on the floor.

* * * * *

Things were going well. Chris learned to accept the fact that his submission was genuine. He realized that he was at my mercy. He resigned himself to obeying The Rules. He recognized his duty to orally pleasure me, not merely to earn his own gratification, but also to earn the privilege of sleeping in bed and not on the floor.

I didn't completely deny him orgasms. I would sit on his face as he lay on the floor. I'd remove his cage and quickly milk his dick until he covered my hand with semen. Sometimes, I "rewarded" Chris by allowing him to masturbate into the toilet before he shaved his genitals. He performed this without supervision. He would have loved for me to watch him jerk off, but that was something I trusted him to do on his own. He didn't know that the camera captured him straddling the commode to make his deposit. The camera caught that funny look of concentration men get when they beat their meat.

Chris spent most of his time in a state of frustration. He asked if he was free to leave the house. I acted surprised that he'd even posed the question, but I introduced Rule Number Four: I will never tell a lie to anyone.

I was happy to occasionally have the house to myself, but I insisted that he tell me where he went and what he did. It wasn't much, a trip to the mall or a movie. He asked me so many times if I had any errands for him that I had to remind him of Rule Number Three. Instead of a naughty sissy buying panties for his mistress, he was a horny husband with no way to vent his constant state of arousal.

When home alone, Chris followed The Rules for nearly a month before he slipped. I didn't want him to know about the surveillance cameras, so I devised another way to catch him. He was sitting on the floor watching television the night I confronted him.

"So Chris; how was your day? Did you do anything special? I'm sorry that I left the remote on the coffee table. You must have been bored stiff."

"It wasn't so bad. I took a long walk and had a nap."

"You didn't watch TV, then?"

"No, dear; the remote was on the coffee table."

"So, if I had wrapped a hair around the remote, it would still be there?"

The color drained from his face. He was still fumbling for an answer when I blindsided him again.

"Suppose I sprayed the recliner with a chemical that appears under a black light, would I find any on your skin or your clothes?"

Chris had devised a way to ask for mercy without begging. He scrambled to my feet, where he knelt with his forehead on the carpet.

"It appears that you've broken three out of four rules. Is this true?"

"I'm sorry, dear."

"What do you think I should do with you?"

"I think you should punish me."

"Tell the truth, what do you think I should do to punish you?"

"I think you should take me over your knee and spank me, Carol."

"Do you think I should dress you in panties, so I can pull them down to spank you?"

"I think I deserve to be spanked in panties, dear."

I reached for his box and rummaged around until I came up with a pair of panties. They were white cotton with little roses. I pulled his pants down and removed his cock cage. I gave him the panties.

"Put these on. No, not here; go to the bedroom and change. Don't keep me waiting."

His little hard on tented the front of the panties as he resumed his position at my feet. He actually believed he was going to enjoy his punishment! Imagine his surprise when I grabbed him firmly by his ear and dragged him down to the basement. I'd been busy, you see. I had a couple of surprises for my husband.

"What do you think? No bad, for an amateur. It's called a pillory. I used solid ash and stained it with golden oak, and then I applied three coats of Verathane to give it a nice glossy finish. Do you like it? The holes are custom fit, just for you. I even padded the inside with foam rubber. Your hands, head and ankles should be comfortable in addition to a snug fir. Step up here and let's give it a test run."

Once in place, Chris was trapped like an errant pilgrim. He was bent over at the waist, with his neck and wrists protruding from the top section. His legs were spread, knees slightly bent to fit the holes for his ankles. Needless to say, Chris had lost his erection. From the rear, his butt protruded lewdly.

"Oh, I forgot! You wanted to be spanked over my knee. Well, as long as you're already in the stocks, we might as well use them. Besides, I made something else that should work better in this position."

I walked around to face him and showed him the paddle.

"This is also made of ash. I thought about using knotty pine, just for a laugh, but the ash is much stronger. Eighteen inches long, twenty-four if you count the handle. The fifteen holes let the air pass through, so the bottom can feel the full force. Excuse me; it's your bottom on the receiving end. Do you still think I should pull your panties down?"

Chris was terrified. This wasn't what he'd had in mind.

"I'd like to wear them, if you don't mind."

I made a small cut in the fabric with a putty knife and then ripped them off his ass.

"I think we'd better put something in your mouth. Rule Number Three is the only one you haven't broken. We can't have you begging for mercy, can we?"

It wasn't merely a ball gag, it was a harness. I saw it on the Internet and I'd loved the way the model's eyes peered through the straps that joined at the top of the forehead. There is a ring at the top, but I wouldn't need it tonight.

"There, now you can only squeal like a girl while I bust your ass."

I took my time. I circled around him, watching his face, watching his butt shiver each time I swatted him with the paddle. This was no kinky little spanking. I beat his ass until I thought he might pass out. When his buns showed the early signs of broken skin, I stopped and let him catch his breath. I loved the terror that stared between the straps of leather, and the drool that ran from the ball in his mouth. This was definitely not what Chris had in mind for a punishment. I removed the gag so he could speak.

"I have more to show you. I used your router to make this plaque."

It was eighteen inches square. It was also stained in oak with a nice chamfer around its edges. There was a decorative brass ring at the top for mounting. Its message said:

The Rules

One: I will respect and obey my wife at all times. Two: I will stay off of the furniture at all times. Three: I will never whine or beg for mercy. Four: I will never tell a lie to anyone. Five: I do this of my own free will.

"I'm going to prop this up on the stool so that you can recite it for me. But first, I have one last thing to show you."

I walked slowly around the pillory until he could see me gently tapping the palm of my hand with the long thin cane. I removed the ball from his mouth.

"You are going to recite The Rules, and with each rule, you will receive one stroke of the cane. If you think the paddle was painful, you will find the cane wicked. If you beg for mercy, you will receive another stoke, and then another, until you have completed your task without begging. I suggest you confine your speech to The Rules. You may begin.

"One: I will respect and obey my wife at all times."

The cane left a nasty welt on his right butt cheek.

"Two: I will stay off of the furniture at all times."

Even though he clamped his jaw shut, he emitted a keening whimper.

"Three: I will never whine or beg for mercy."

Blood trickled where two of the welts crossed each other.

"Four: I will never tell a lie to anyone."

His bladder released after the fourth stroke of the cane.

"Five: I do this of my own free will.

Instead of whipping him, I simply touched his blistered ass with the cane.

"That's enough, your punishment is ended. However, you will remain in place until I've had my dinner. I suggest that you take the time to read and study The Rules."

When I'd climbed the stairs, I stopped and gazed down at my husband. He looked pitiful with his head and limbs firmly secured to the wooden contraption and his ass beaten to a pulp. I could see his tears joining the puddle of urine and saliva at his feet. I wondered if he would still be willing to continue his submission to me.

I wondered how he would react when he discovered that he no longer had a choice.

* * * * *

The beating left Chris with a great respect for The Rules. He also came to realize that his fantasies might never be fulfilled. He'd come to accept his role as the subordinate one in our marriage. He'd always loved and respected me, but he'd learned to fear me, as well. Everything was going according to plan, except for one thing:

I'd begun this punishment as a retribution for his deceit. As time went by, I'd grown to love my role as the Alpha member of our marriage. True, I was always the bread winner, but that was because my business was thriving before we met. Now, I was in complete control. Chris would obey or face the consequences. His goal was to avoid the garden hose. His goal was to avoid the pillory. He lived to keep me from becoming angry, and I'd come to enjoy the thought of beating his ass.

Chris's confinement to the chastity cage had become a nuisance, due in part to his resignation to The Rules and the problems it caused to keep his genitals shaved. I made some changes in our bedtime routine. I no longer made him wear his cage in my presence. He wouldn't dare play with himself without my permission. I made him wear it whenever I left him alone. It was for his own good, to resist the temptation.

Chris was allowed to join me in the bathroom when I prepare for bed. I allowed him to kneel behind me while I stood at the sink. I let him worship my ass while he masturbated. I have to admit that it feels wonderful to have your ass kissed. I came to find the he had a fixation for the fleshy part of my butt that ends in a crease at my thighs. He would whimper as he reverently kissed my soft butt cheeks.

Sometimes, I even let him lick my asshole until he splattered his semen on the bathroom tile. It didn't take many times for Chris to lick his cum off the floor to remember to keep the bathroom floor clean. He did the same for the carpets and kitchen, as well. When you aren't allowed on the furniture, a clean floor is essential. Besides, what else did he have to do?

Having him jerk off before he came to bed was also a good idea. I could spoon him if I wasn't in the mood for sex. I could also ride his face or his cock or simply have him eat my pussy. Chris's penis is no longer and barely thicker than one of those spring door stops that attaches to the baseboard. Unlike the doorstop, his little dick stays very hard, so it's easy to grind my clit against it to produce a satisfying orgasm.

* * * * *

"Oh, hello Monica, how are you?"

"I'm well and good, Carol. I just called to thank you for the pictures and videos for the web site. Why, just these videos alone will pay for the cameras and audio equipment."

"I should be thanking you. That was a healthy check you sent me. I just hope the quality was good enough."

"Are you kidding? Only professional lighting could have improved them. The quality is fantastic, especially the footage from the bathroom. The living room and bedroom shots turned out well, but everything recorded during the daylight is superb."

"I'm so glad to hear it. How about the beating in the basement? Were you able to use it?"

"The shots from the basement were dark, but it worked out well. It has a real dungeon look to it. It's time to get some footage from mobile cameras. The phone takes great stills, but you can't direct him and shoot pics without his knowledge. Have you found someone yet?"

"I've had someone in mind all along. I've known her since we were children. She's worked for me for years and she's already aware of what we're doing. We had a little thing together as teens, and she wants to rekindle that."

"It sounds wonderful. Send more stuff when you can and I'll let you know when we've edited and posted this on the site. All of the naughty sissies are going to want the DVD. Don't forget, dear; the product is infinitely better if the sub is not enjoying his role."

"Monica, are we ever going to tell him that he's an Internet star?" Monica laughed.

"Of course we will. Sooner or later, he'll begin to enjoy himself. He can't help it. He needs to submit. That's when we'll show him what the customers have been paying for!"

* * * * *

Jan arrived promptly at ten on a Sunday morning. I'd spent the early morning hours getting Chris to cum as many times as possible. He is always meek and humble when his needs have been met. Jan is brutally frank by nature, and Chris has always been intimidated by her aggressive nature, as well as her beauty. Jan could be Jennifer Aniston's sister, her small perky breasts the only difference. So, I was looking forward to this. I'd purchased a professional video camera that was ready to go.

Chris sat on the living room floor when I answered the door. He was dressed, but his box of lingerie still sat on the coffee table.

"Hi Jan! What brings you over, so bright and early?"

As usual we exchanged a hug and light kiss. Jan doesn't enter a room, she descends upon it. Chris started to fidget the moment he saw her.

"I just wanted to bring over those new brochures for the Cayman Islands cruise. I think they turned out well, but you're the boss. Hi Chris, I haven't seen you in a while. What have you been up to?"

"Nothing special, Jan. How've you been doing?"

"Without, mostly; I could use a big strong man like you around the house. Carol's a lucky gal."

"Have a seat, Jan, and I'll put on some coffee. Let Chris see the brochures, I've been thinking about a vacation, and the Caymans sound wonderful."

With Chris's back to me, I took up the camera and started shooting.

"Come sit with me," Jan said to Chris, "I want you to look at these beaches, they're beautiful."

Chris was already shaking like a leaf. He knew there was no way Jan could miss the box on the table. Now, he was faced with Rule number four.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Jan."

"Why the hell not? What's keeping you?"

"Because I'm...I'm not allowed on the furniture."

Jan started to laugh, as if he were joking.

"You always were a strange one. Now come on, I want you to see these."

"I'm serious; Carol doesn't allow me on the furniture."

Three cameras caught his expression from three different angles, while I captured Jan's performance with the hand held.

"You're not joking, are you? Are you that pussy-whipped that you have to sit on the floor?"

"That's the way Carol wants it. She won't allow me on the furniture."

Jan started to giggle. The giggle turned into a laugh, until she was howling and pointing at the defeated man sitting on the floor in front of her. Eventually, her laughter subsided enough for her to wipe her tears. That's when she noticed the box at the end of the coffee table. She pulled it towards her and inspected the contents.

"My, what pretty things we have in here! I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that all of these panties and things belong to you. Am I correct, Chris? Look at me, not the floor!"

Chris jerked his head up and gazed up at Jan. Here was the most intimidating woman he'd ever known, picking through his sizable box of women's clothes. This was not fantasy, this was real. Chris struggled to face her.

"Everything in the box belongs to me, Jan."

"Oh, I have a nightie exactly like this one. Do the straps slip off of your shoulders, too?"

"They did when I used to wear it."

"Don't you wear it anymore? The way it was sitting out here in plain sight, I'd assumed you liked dressing up for Carol."

I'd stashed the camera and took this moment to return to the sofa with a tray of coffee and cups. Together, Jan and I sat and watched Chris endure the humiliation of his exposure.

"Heavens, no; I'm not interested in watching him prance around like a sissy."

"Oh, why not, Carol? He has some lovely things here. I've heard about this kind of thing. It seems harmless, to me. Personally, I'd love to see Chris in something frilly. He has such a cute little body; I'd love to see his sweet little butt in panties"

"If you'd like to play dolls with him, be my guest. I don't find it repulsive; I just have no interest in it. I won't let him on the furniture as punishment for deceiving me. Do whatever you want with him; just keep him off the furniture."

"Oh goody! Let's see what we can find to make you pretty."

Jan began to remove articles of clothes and sorting them in piles on the table. She made various comments about his tastes as she did.

"Oh, Carol, you have to look at these! Chris, where in the world did you find these satin panties with the elastic legs and the ruffles across the bottom? They're darling!"

"They...they came with the dress."

Jan began digging in earnest and shrieked at her discovery.

"Carol, would you look at this? It's a Shirley Temple dress!"

Jan held up an adult sized replica of the type of party dress made famous by the young Shirley Temple. It was pink, with a white collar, puffy sleeves and a short hemline that was intended to be worn with enough petticoats to allow the satin panties to show

"Carol, look at this! He has everything, the undershirt, the petticoats; he even has the white Mary Jane shoes and the ankle socks. Chris, do you enjoy dressing up like a little girl?"

"I've never worn the dress. The buttons are in the back, and I can't reach them by myself."

Carol, please; I have to see him all dolled up in this!"