Sandra had to smile when, thirty minutes later, there was a tap on the door.
“Come in,” she said.
Jason walked in and paused. Sandra was waiting for him in a way he hadn’t seen before. She had her hips on a pillow, raised off the bed, legs bent, feet on the mattress, and knees apart. Even though he still felt some pain, he could feel himself getting aroused.
“Well,” Sandra said, her voice subdued and electric, “are you going to stand there and gawk, or come over here and eat me?”
Jason moved quickly, wincing as the earlier sting returned. Each step toward the bed was filled with both eagerness and hesitation. He climbed onto the bed and looked at his wife. Her eyes were bright with happiness, but there was something new and strong in her gaze that almost felt intimidating. A mix of fear and excitement ran through him, the memory of the hairbrush and his surrender still fresh. His emotions churned as he realized how much the balance between them had changed. The echo of the hairbrush against his skin reverberated in his mind, a constant reminder of his vulnerability. He shivered at the thought but tried to ignore it, drawn by her strong pull—the way her presence commanded him. She was waiting.
He started by kissing the inside of her thighs, moving from one to the other. As he got closer, he felt her heat and breathed in her scent. His body reacted. Her lips were swollen and shining, almost trembling. As soon as his mouth touched her clit, she climaxed. Her hands gripped his hair, and she lifted her hips, holding him close as waves of pleasure ran through her. When she finally relaxed, he tried to pull back, but she kept him there. He stretched out on his stomach, knowing this would last a while.
After a few minutes, her hips started moving again. He took the hint. This time, he avoided her clit and pressed his tongue inside her. She was wet and warm against his mouth. It took longer, but when she came again, it was just as strong. She still didn’t let him go. He kept teasing her, bringing her closer to another climax. Her thighs shook, her breathing grew ragged, and she finally cried out as she came again.
When he finally pulled away, his face was wet, and he could still taste her on his chin. But Sandra wasn’t finished.
She rolled onto her stomach, leaving the pillow under her hips. Jason caught his breath as she showed herself to him. He knew what she wanted and didn’t hesitate. He gently spread her cheeks, revealing the place he loved. He didn’t know if she meant to do it, but her body seemed to welcome him. His mouth watered.
He started at the top and moved down, kissing and licking, enjoying every small sound she made. When he reached her center, he kissed her there, soft and slow.
“Inside,” she said sharply, pushing her hips upward.
He responded immediately, plunging his tongue into her as deeply as he could.
“Yes. Deeper,” she gasped.
He tried, reaching as far as he could with his tongue. Her hips moved in small circles as she enjoyed his touch. He had to lift his hips off the bed a few times to ease the pressure from his arousal, worried he might finish before she allowed it.
Sandra reached between her legs and rubbed her clit, her breathing quick. Soon, she moaned loudly and pressed back against his mouth as another strong orgasm hit her. He felt each pulse on his tongue, and it sent pleasure through him, too. When she relaxed, Jason stayed where he was. He didn’t want to stop. As she recovered, he kept licking her, sometimes gently pushing inside. Pleasing her this way felt right to him.
When she started moving her hips, he pushed his tongue in and out again. She climaxed again and again. He stayed with her until she gently pushed him away and rolled onto her back.
“That was amazing,” she uttered quietly, almost as though speaking to herself.
Even though he was sore, Jason felt proud. He loved making her happy like this, and now he knew she enjoyed it too.
Sandra looked at him and said, calm and certain, “Go fix dinner. I am going to my bath alone. I need time to think.”
Jason left the bed and went to the kitchen, feeling reluctant and a little disappointed.
Sandra ran her bath and slipped into the warm water. She let out a deep breath, feeling the heat relax her muscles as she thought about the evening. Being alone gave her a chance to think about how things were changing with Jason. She replayed what had happened, noticing how much Jason’s broken promise had changed things between them. The first time she used the hairbrush, it did more than punish him—it shifted the balance, showing her a new kind of power that excited and unsettled her. However, as she soaked in the bath, a hint of doubt began to creep in. Was she taking things too far? Was this newfound control over Jason leading their relationship down a path she might regret? The questions drifted in and out of her mind like the small ripples in the water, brushing against her sense of dominance and certainty. Yet, surprisingly, amidst this fleeting uncertainty, she recognized that she had embraced this role easily, perhaps too easily. A side of herself she hadn’t seen before, filled with authority and control, had surfaced, and while it thrilled her, it also left her feeling slightly exposed.
She realized she liked this new balance. The mix of excitement and uncertainty made her feel alive. Still, she wondered if this dynamic would continue to work for both of them. Could she stay in control without losing herself or hurting their connection? Even with these doubts, she wanted to keep exploring. She was ready to take charge and see where it led. Now she was sure.
Now she was sure of it.
Sandra came out of the bathroom in her robe and walked to the kitchen. Jason was by the stove, and the only sound was the clinking of utensils. She was glad to see he was still naked, since she hadn’t told him to get dressed. She sat down, and he brought her another glass of wine. When the food was ready, he served her and stayed standing, looking tense.
Sandra watched him and smiled a little as she realized why he was still standing. The sting from her discipline was the reason.
“Oh, your butt is a little tender,” she observed, her tone edged with amusement.
A faint wince crossed his face. “More than a little,” he admitted, his look shifting toward the chair. “Can I get a cushion to sit on?”
She considered it for a second. A cushion. The thought was almost laughable. She shook her head, firm and unmoved. “No. Sit down. I want you to remember that you’ve been disciplined, and why.”
The surprise on his face lasted just a moment before he pulled himself together. He took a breath, braced himself, and sat down slowly. He let out a quiet sound as his sore skin touched the hard chair.
As they began to eat, Sandra broke the quiet. “So why were you disciplined?” she asked, her voice almost casual.
He hesitated, fork hovering. “Because I promised not to jerk off, and I did it anyway.” The words came out low, almost ashamed.
“Yes, exactly,” she said, looking at him steadily. “Do you see how disrespectful that is to me?”
“Yes, but…” His voice trailed off, uncertainty tightening his features.
“Go ahead,” she encouraged gently. “Say what you’re thinking.” She wanted the truth. Every piece would help her build the plan developing in her mind.
He swallowed and looked at her, his eyes showing how vulnerable he felt. “It’s just that… you can… You know… get off, but I can’t. I know I’ve abused it, but still, is that fair?”
This was the question she had been waiting for. She let the silence stretch, acting like she was thinking it over, even though she already knew her answer.
“No,” she said at last, the word soft but absolute. “Our marriage isn’t about fairness or being equal anymore. We’re in an FLR, and I make the rules. It’s what you agreed to when we got married.”
She leaned back, relaxed but still in control. “Besides being disrespectful when you waste your sexual energy in the bathroom, climaxing changes your personality in a bad way.”
Jason started to speak, but stopped the moment he saw the warning in her eyes.
She went on, her voice steady. “Like many men, after you climax, you lose interest in sex for a while. The more you do it, the less you want sex with me. Also, when you orgasm, your body releases prolactin, which lowers your sex drive. If you only did it once a week, your libido would bounce back, and it wouldn’t be a big problem. But doing it every day, or even twice a day, keeps your sex drive low. That’s the problem.”
Jason frowned, looking confused. “I’m not sure I really get it. Why can’t I just do it once a week?” he asked softly.
Sandra smiled again, slow and on purpose. “It’s simple. Even doing it once a week takes your focus off me,” she said. She stood up slowly, untied her robe, and let it fall open, showing her naked body. Jason caught his breath and let out a soft gasp. He smiled right away, unable to help it.
“A week ago,” Sandra said, “you might have been a little surprised to see me naked, but with how often you were jerking off, it wouldn’t have stimulated you that much. Stand up.”
He stood up right away, his face turning red with both embarrassment and growing arousal. He was already hard, and with his size, it didn’t take long.
“See?” she said, locking eyes with him. “You wouldn’t have gotten hard this fast a week ago. You would have needed porn. Porn is addictive and changes your brain in a negative way. You’re done with porn. We’re going to retrain your mind. From now on, your focus is on me, and you’ll get aroused by thinking about me or seeing me. I want you to think of me all the time, especially when you think about sex, which men do a lot. Do you understand?”
Jason thought for a moment, then said, “I think I do.” His voice was husky, with a sense of dawning comprehension.
“So,” Sandra continued, her voice strengthening, firming, “you do not get to climax unless I allow it. And when I do, it will probably be a ruined orgasm from now on.”
The word hung in the air, and Jason wondered what it meant. “What is a ‘ruined’ orgasm?” he asked, curious.
“It’s like the teasing and denial we’ve done, but with a difference,” she said, her tone softening a bit. “I’ll tease you until you leak a little. That’s important for your health. I’ve heard it gives a bit of pleasure but keeps you focused on me. I’ll need to practice to get it right, but I’m determined.” She paused to let him think about it.
“So when do I get a real climax?” he ventured, an expectant note in his voice.
“Maybe on special occasions. Your birthday, Christmas, our anniversary, or…” Sandra paused, her eyes steady on him. “Or never.”
Jason’s brow creased. “Never?”
“Yes, that’s possible. I haven’t decided yet,” she said, her voice calm and steady. But inside, she already knew her answer: it would never be.
He stared at her, shocked. For a moment, he thought she was joking, but her eyes showed no humor—only certainty and control.
A surge of anger rose in him, strong and sudden. It broke through his self-control before he could stop it.
“Never? That’s bullshit.”
The room went completely quiet.
She had expected him to react this way when she said never, but hearing it out loud pleased her deep inside.
Very slowly, Sandra arched an eyebrow. “Bullshit? Really?”
Jason opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His anger faded quickly under her stare, and his shoulders tensed with regret.
She said, “Do you think your climax is something you are owed?”
“I…” He didn’t have an answer. But in truth, he thought he was owed that in a marriage, even a female-led marriage.
“You lost the privilege because you showed you can’t handle it,” she said. “Your self-control has been bad. Your pleasure—your orgasm—has hurt our connection. From now on, your pleasure should be about pleasing me.”
Jason’s expression softened as he started to understand. They had talked about this before, agreeing that his needs would be balanced with Sandra’s leadership. Both had agreed to talk openly about boundaries and find a way to make their relationship work for both of them. To ensure ongoing consent, they regularly checked in with one another, discussing how they felt about the changes and adjusting as necessary. This process reassured them and strengthened their connection, ensuring the evolving power dynamic remained consensual and fulfilling.
She went on, her voice both gentle and firm. “I’ll decide if you get real climaxes again. If you deserve one. If it’s good for us. Until then, I make the decisions about your body, not you.”
He exhaled shakily. “So… I just have to trust you?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “That’s exactly what you have to do.”
She watched his face for a while, seeing his resistance give way to something like surrender. But she wanted more. She couldn’t let his outburst pass without a response.
“Come over here,” she ordered.
Jason hesitated, just for a breath, already knowing where this was going.
“Better yet, get me a wooden spoon,” she said.
He waited a little too long. Sandra’s look made it clear she meant it. He turned quickly, heart pounding, and searched the drawer for an old wooden spoon. Walking back felt endless, and he remembered the sting on his skin. He swallowed hard as he gave her the spoon.
“Bend over the table. Now.” Her voice held no space for negotiation.
Jason bent over, his body trembling, his sore cheeks tightening in instinctive dread. He clenched his jaw, bracing himself.
The first hit landed with a sharp crack. Pain shot through him, and he cried out, jerking forward, wanting to get away. But he forced himself to stay. The second blow came right after, then a third, and more. He soon lost count. The pain got so strong that all he could do was try to bear it.
Sandra, just as with the hairbrush, had no polished technique. But she was certain of one thing: she could not go easy on him. She delivered thirty firm, deliberate strikes before she finally stopped.
She stepped back to look. Her heart pounded. The spoon had already left marks on his red skin, turning purple at the edges. Jason’s tears ran down his face. Seeing this stirred something deep in her—a strong sense of control and dominance. It was so intense she had to steady her breath and force herself to stop.
She tossed the spoon onto the table. “Now, on your knees,” she said, opening her robe and parting her legs. Her lips were swollen, wet with fresh arousal.
Still crying, Jason knelt on the floor. He kissed her inner thighs, slow and careful. But Sandra didn’t want tenderness. Hearing his quiet sobs between her legs turned her on even more. She grabbed his head and pulled him close, pressing him against her. She was already wet and eager. Jason buried his mouth in her, licking deeply until she shivered through several strong orgasms.
When she finally started to calm down, she pushed him back without any gentleness. His face was wet with her and streaked with tears. She leaned in and kissed him, deep and passionate.
Even with the pain, Jason responded. To his surprise, he started to get hard again.
Sandra pulled back, her manner softer and determined. She grabbed his chin in her hand again, squeezing his cheeks tight as she looked down at him and directly into his eyes. “I will not accept any more back talk. Ever. Do you understand that?”
“Yes,” he blubbered.
“Yes, what?”
It took him a moment before he said, “Yes, ma’am.”
Sandra nodded. “Now sit back down and let’s finish our dinner in peace.”
He nodded quietly, accepting her words, though he wasn’t hungry anymore. He sat down carefully, wincing as his bruised and sore skin touched the chair. His mind was full of confusion, shock, desire, fear, and something he couldn’t name. He knew sitting would hurt for days.
Sandra finished her dinner without another word, then rose and left the room.
Jason sat for a while, not sure what he should do next. Finally, he cleaned the dishes, each movement reminding him of his punishment. He walked slowly to the bedroom, knocked, and waited in silence, feeling the pain. At last, Sandra called him in.
Sandra smiled when she saw him. Everything had gone just as she wanted, even Jason’s outburst. She had him exactly where she wanted. The tension, the discipline, and his surrender excited her more than she expected. She felt no guilt or regret, only excitement for what would come next.
She liked this new relationship more and more.
Jason was surprised and happy to see her lying naked with her legs open again. He noticed how wet she was. “Can I… uh… can I lick you again?” he asked, still hard.
“Yes,” Sandra said. She was surprised by how quickly she wanted more after her last orgasms. That night, Jason pleasured her several times, but she didn’t let him have any relief. She heard him crying quietly during the night, and even though it tugged at her heart, she felt it was necessary. She realized this was training for both of them—him learning to submit, and her learning to lead.
Sandra noticed something new in Jason’s eyes—a deeper respect, more focus, and a bit of fear. She liked it. She wanted him to feel a little unsure, never knowing exactly what she would do next.
She would come up to him without warning, sit in his lap, wrap her arms around him, and kiss him gently on purpose. Sometimes she would bare a breast and guide his mouth to it, letting him nurse softly. Whenever she touched his crotch, he was always hard, which made her very happy.
Other times, she surprised him in different ways. She dressed up for him, took him out to dinner, and made the evening feel like a real date. She was loving, attentive, and unpredictable in the best way.
Jason didn’t know how to handle all the feelings she brought out in him. They confused and overwhelmed him, but also felt right. What he knew for sure was how much he loved her—more than ever. She had gotten exactly what she wanted. He thought of her almost all the time, and it excited him. Even his heartbeat seemed to change when she was near, spoke, or even just crossed his mind.
Now, everything he did was for her. He cooked dinner, gave her full-body massages, and kept the house spotless for her. He often bought her flowers and left them in the bedroom or by the bath. He looked online for new soaps, oils, and balms for her nightly baths. It wasn’t just fear of discipline that drove him, though that fear was still there. He wanted to please her completely. In fact, he feared upsetting her even more than the discipline itself.
In the weeks that followed, Jason faced even bigger challenges. Sandra teased and denied him, keeping him always on the edge. She could hold him there, full of energy and need, until he was leaking. Then she would pull away, leaving him tied up, his erection fading. Sometimes she came back and started again, pushing him until he was shaking and exhausted. When she finally released him, he could barely stand, and sometimes she had to help him to bed.
Sandra took great pleasure in their teasing and denial games. She felt deeply satisfied having full control over his desires. It was hard for him, but for her, it was all about power and control. Jason became even more devoted to her. Sometimes, she had to slow down his eagerness to please so it wouldn’t become too much.
And the discipline. Yes, she had grown to love that. It touched some previously hidden desire that couldn’t be satisfied any other way. She had, however, learned to control it, and while Jason might have thought she often took it too far, she didn’t share that concern. Everything depended on her mood, based on work pressure, things that Jason did wrong, or just because it turned her on so much. She used the hairbrush, a wooden spoon, and even her hand on occasion. Some of her friends suggested that she use a cane. They raved about how amazing it was in controlling their husbands. She had ordered several, but had not decided to use them yet.
Sandra did occasionally pause to consider the limits of her actions and the ethical implications of her newfound authority. She understood that each decision she made carried consequences, not just for Jason but for their relationship as a whole. The thought of going too far lingered at the edges of her consciousness, reminding her of the importance of balance and consideration. Despite her enjoyment, a part of her recognized the need for responsibility in her role as the leader of their dynamic. Using discipline not just as a tool of power but as a means to strengthen their connection became an ongoing, delicate balancing act.
Jason often felt emotional turmoil after the discipline sessions. Sometimes, resentment bubbled up inside him, making him question why such measures were needed. He wondered if his lack of control justified the severity of Sandra’s actions, feeling a confusing mix of anger at both her and himself. Yet, beneath that layer of resistance, there were moments when acceptance and a strange calmness took over. He realized that the dominance he resented also created a connection he craved. The predictability of his submission brought a weird comfort, soothing the chaos in his mind. It both frightened and intrigued him that his compliance was starting to feel more natural. He couldn’t deny the deepening connection with Sandra, even if it came with confusion and new boundaries he was still learning to navigate. He often lay awake at night, reflecting on how his feelings of fear intertwined with a growing respect for her strength. In those quiet moments, he found himself embracing a side of himself that was both liberating and confining.
To balance the discipline, she set up a weekly routine for them to talk. They would sit on the sofa and discuss their week, how things were going, and what needed work. Their talks included hugs, kisses, cuddles, and serious conversation. At night, they watched TV together and often shared popcorn. Jason didn’t complain about the romantic comedies anymore—he actually seemed to like them.
Sandra watched Jason’s progress with quiet satisfaction, though she still felt something was missing. He pleasured her with his mouth every day, sometimes twice a day on weekends, always on his own. Many mornings, she woke up to find him already at work, his mouth open, showing his devotion. He had also become more eager and skilled at pleasing her from behind, which she had grown to love.
As Sandra thought about their progress, a slow smile appeared. Everything was changing just as it should. Her dominance felt natural now, not forced. It felt inevitable.
Jason was learning to obey without hesitation. She made sure of it.
The best part was how right it felt and how much she wanted control now that she had it. She wasn’t just leading him anymore. She was becoming the woman she was meant to be.
One night, as she lay in the dark beside his quiet form, a new thought crept in—one she had passed over lightly earlier in the week, almost as a joke. Chastity. She had mentioned it in passing when they’d talked about his habit of masturbating every day, even when he knew she didn’t like it. She had said something like, “Some women just put their husbands in a cage so they don’t have to worry about it anymore.” At the time, he’d gone quiet, embarrassed. She hadn’t pushed. She wanted the seed planted… nothing more.
Now, though, the idea felt different. It was clearer, more useful, and exciting. She could see how quickly he was changing under her direction, how fast he gave in, and how much he wanted to please her. If she pushed too hard about a cage, he might panic. But if she let him come to the idea himself, if she guided him without forcing, he would accept it completely. It would be voluntary, devoted, and permanent.
She imagined it: Jason coming to her with lowered eyes, voice hesitant, saying something like, “Maybe… maybe I should be locked. So I don’t mess up.”
Her body grew warm at the thought. Yes. That was what she wanted. And she knew exactly how to bring him there.
While Sandra thought about how to let him feel the struggle between wanting and being denied, her mind lingered on the growing anticipation and tension. She relished the idea of allowing Jason to see he couldn’t control his own urges, of watching him try and fail while she remained calm and in control. Each failed attempt would pull him deeper into desperation, his need building with every moment of restraint. She felt her excitement rise at the thought of him coming to terms with the power shift, guided toward the answer she already knew was inevitable.
A slow, ruined orgasm would be perfect. Not a release. Not a reward. A taste. A reminder of who was in control and how little satisfaction he could give himself.
She would create the perfect moment. His body would react, but he’d get no pleasure or relief. He would realize he couldn’t control himself without her guidance.
After that, the idea she had planted would grow. He would give in and do what he’d always done—masturbate. She was sure he would tell her about it.
Once he did, he would remember her words about men who couldn’t control themselves. He would feel ashamed for lacking discipline and for disrespecting her. Then, feeling frustrated and needing structure, he would suggest the solution himself.
She would let him think it was his idea. She would let him ask for the cage.
And she would let him thank her for helping him become better.
Sandra felt a slow, deep satisfaction in her chest. Tomorrow, she would start the next step.
To Be Continued