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@honorand
I want my husband to think of me as inferior, subordinate, lesser. I want him to disregard my rights and autonomy. I want him to talk down to me and treat me like I’m stupid. I don’t want his respect, I want to be property 🌸
Yes ladies, give into your feminine nature.
Never forget the joy of fake wrestling as a way to play before being pinned by the man who’s so much stronger than you then being forced to take it like a good girl!
Stepford Gentleman's list of nonsexual forms of domination for dominants
-Ordering for your sub at a restaurant
-Choosing sub’s outfit for the day
-Giving a bedtime
-Corporal punishment for bad behavior
-Instructing the submissive to write your name somewhere on their body daily
-Training sub with non-verbal cues
-verbal cues to correct unwanted behavior in public
-sub must be at a certain distance & position when in public
-Training sub how to greet you(on call/in person)
-Sub must wear a collar/necklace w/your name/title on it
-Scheduling hypnosis time
-Choosing and/or putting sub’s shoes on for them
-sub must ask permission before speaking
-sub must ask permission before entering/exiting a room(could be in public, a designated play/comfort room, at home, etc)
-Sub may only sit on the floor, on a cushion, in a designated chair
-Scheduling exercise time for sub
-Scheduled chore time
-Controlling their alcohol intake(when they can get drunk, if they can’t get drunk, cutting them off)
-Monitoring water intake
-monitoring screen/phone time
-Monitoring a submissive's outfits while out
-scheduling a time daily/weekly for sub to sit on their knees in silence, repeating a predetermined mantra
-Instructing sub to complete scheduled chores in a required uniform
-serving Dominant drinks/food
--
Let's add some more in the reblogs...
less of a brat in a “don’t tell me what to do” way more of a brat in a “i need you to force me into submission because i’m a control freak” way
The delicious humiliation of forcing you to make yourself more available for my pleasure…
“Open your throat for me. Tongue out.”
“Lift your shirt so I can clamp your nipples.”
“Raise your skirt and bend over.”
“Hold your legs open so I can spank your clit.”
“Arch your back and take me deeper.”
I’m going to hurt you. And you’re going to help.
He controls everything
As a female, you are completely powerless.
He controls and should control everything in your life.
How you behave, how you dress, where you go.... What, where, when, how and why you do what you do while there.
He controls what you say or if you even speak at all.
He controls when or if you see your friends and family.
He controls your finances, determining what, if any any out of your own pay check that you will or should receive.
He controls what you eat and how much.
He controls when and where you sleep as well as the duration.
He controls whether you sit, stand or crawl.
He determines if you are permitted on the furniture.
He controls when you use the bathroom and whether you do so inside or outside.
He controls what you do in His absence.
Naturally, you have daily chores that are monitored for time and efficiency.
He determines your weight and the exercise needed to keep it set.
He determines the size of your tits.
He determines whether to mark your body and to what degree.
He controls how, when and where He fucks you.
He determines who else fucks you.
He chooses which hole or holes He uses.
He chooses where He cums.
He determines when or if you cum.
He chooses if you get pregnant.
in short, His control, like your submission, is absolute.
Though I pray I will never need it, discipline is crucial in a happy relationship early on. A husband should be ready to respond to any mistakes, disrespect, or disobedience, in a just and firm manner. Without it arguments, problems and resentment builds. I know I expect my future husband to be willing to discipline me if need be.
Corporal Punishment as a means of discipline
Corporal punishment of me by my husband is part of enforcing discipline in our marriage. Rooted in themes of discipline, authority, and control, it allows my husband to assert his power over me while reinforcing my role as his submissive
Why Corporal Punishment?
At its core, corporal punishment is about discipline. Whether used as a form of correction, a tool for training, or simply an expression of dominance, it serves to reinforce the power dynamic in our marriage.
Correction of Behavior: When rules are broken, corporal punishment serves as a tangible consequence, teaching me accountability.
Reinforcement of Authority: Each strike, smack, or stroke reminds me who is in charge, deepening my surrender and devotion.
Emotional Release: For me, punishment is cathartic, offering a way to release guilt, tension, or other emotions under my husband’s care.
Erotic Charge: The physical sensations of spanking, caning, or paddling often carry an erotic undertone, blending pain and pleasure in a uniquely intimate way. This is very important to me because I am very much missing intimacy during our marriage.
Types of Corporal Punishment
Here are some types my husband is using on me:
1. Spanking
The most classic form of corporal punishment, spanking can be done with bare hands or implements like paddles or hairbrushes. The intimate, direct contact of hand-to-skin adds an emotional layer to this method.
2. Caning
Using a flexible cane, this form of punishment delivers sharp, stinging strokes that leave lasting impressions—both physically and emotionally.
3. Paddling
Paddles provide a satisfying blend of thud and sting, depending on the material and design. They’re great for delivering a consistent impact over a larger surface area.
4. Whipping
Whips, floggers, or crops add dramatic flair to corporal punishment. These tools allow for a range of sensations, from soft, teasing strokes to sharp, focused hits.
5. Slapping
Face slapping is an intensely personal form of punishment done by my husband. It’s a powerful reminder of my husband’s control and my surrender.
Discipline Framework
My husband has established a framework that sets expectations, rules, and consequences.
Aftercare is an essential part of corporal punishment. Aftercare by my husband includes:
Checking for marks or injuries and applying soothing balms if necessary.
Offering comforting words or physical touch to reaffirm our connection.
girls, your husband's rules and discipline is a redirection for you to channel. your feminine energy better. to focus on what is important, and free your mind from the worries and overthinking of what is not important and not your responsibility. it will be difficult at first, but deeply freeing down the line
This woman is a fairly good model of joyful feminine submission. One thing she gets wrong here, though, is when she says, “I let him be the man that he is.” It would have been more accurate for her to say, “I don't resist him being the man that he is.” Other than this one error, she gets it. Her eyes are open.
using a marital tpe kink for enough dopamine to get chores done, go to work, take care of myself, make meals, survive
Allowance
“Tell me why. Tell me why I should have this. Convince yourself for me.”
(True story) - His voice was low and gentle. His large hands wrapped around my hips and held me steady on top of him as he fucked me.
“I can’t. I...uhn...mmh...don’t like it.” I couldn’t meet his eyes. I wouldn’t lie to him. I never do.
“Let’s start there, then. Talk to me.” His pace was methodical, deliberate and unhurried. He watched my face patiently and waited for me to find my words while he casually caressed my tits in front of him.
“Well, it’s my spending money. I've always been able to...unnf...ah...use it whenever I want because I earned it at...mmm...my job. I worked hard for it.” I explained.
“You did work for it very hard, sweetie. But you didn’t earn it for yourself, did you? You earned it for your family - for me.” His cock continued to pump in and out me.
“But…! Uhnf...fff…fu-…my salary is higher than yours! I went to school. I have a degree for this job. Ah-ah...mmh...it’s a good career, my colleagues respect-"
He cut me off. “Does any of that change a thing? Be honest. Does it matter at all if you’re educated or people at work think you’re respectable? I still tell you what to wear, what to do, what to say. So does it matter? Tell me.”
“No...ah! mmh...no, it doesn’t change anything I suppose. But both names are on the account. I could withdraw my spending money on my own. Uhnf...the bank...ugh…would let me.” The sound of my sloppy cunt - my body carelessly betraying me - offended my ears.
“Yes, your name is on the account," he conceded thoughtfully. "You have access to your body too. It’s attached to you, isn’t it? Does that mean it’s yours? Can you make it orgasm?”
“No.”
“Can you change it without permission?”
“Fffu-...no.”
“Do you decide when and how I use it?”
“No—ugh...uhn…”
“So does it belong to you?”
“No, it doesn’t belong to me,” my voice wobbled.
“Then why would your bank account be any different than your physical body? I own you and that means I own every little thing that you do. Everything that’s yours is actually mine.”
“But…I hate it.”
I could feel him pick up his pace. He moaned out the next words: “Tell me why.”
I stifled the start of tears. “I hate it because it’s oppressive and it’s wrong.”
He groaned and I felt his cock stiffen as he pumped into me harder and faster. “Why is it wrong?” he goaded me. My cunt was a mess.
“Ah-ah-ah!...Because that money is mine!” A small sob. “It’s my spending money. And I earned it, it’s from my career, and it’s mine. And I feel pride.”
“Oh. It’s okay, sweetie,” his tone was compassionate. He smiled at me gently and settled me down onto him for a moment. “Don’t worry, I’ll break it. Just give it a little time. You’ll feel better.”
Another little sob. I rubbed my eyes to stop tears and tried to catch my breath. I could feel every thick inch of him inside me as I straddled him. I looked into his calm and measured expression, seeking mercy there. I began again with my plea: “But that money is mine…”
He wrapped his fingers tightly around my arm, pulled me in close to him, our foreheads nearly touching. He began to pound into me, his eyes locked with mine. I felt my thoughts scatter across the surface of my mind and I scrambled to pick them up again.
His voice was suddenly dark. “Nothing is yours. Not your body or your womb, not your mind or your vote. And neither is your money. You give it all to me. Do you understand me?”
I began to cry into his neck, little sobs mixing with pathetic moans. “But I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it...”
“I know, sweetie, I know. But I want it.” He pressed on that weak spot of my mental armor, waiting for the inevitable break.
“You want it," I repeated, my voice was small.
“Yes, I want it. That’s enough of a reason. And you want to give it to me, don’t you? Nothing makes you happier than giving yourself to me, isn't that right?”
I moaned into him in assent.
“You know I get what I want. So just relax. Just go with it. Enjoy saying yes. Say yes to me - that you’ll give it to me.”
“I’ll give it to you.” Tears were in my eyes and smearing on his skin.
I could feel him throbbing in anticipation of my mental undoing. He slowed his pace again, drawing out his finish. “That’s a good girl. I’ll take care of it. And you can be a good whore for me to earn my money. I'll tell you to send me photos and if I like them, you’ll hear ping! and a few dollars will come through Apple Pay for you for being a good girl. If you want to buy something, you ask me first. I might say no, but I bet there’s a way you could earn it.” He smiled, lazily fucking me, toying with what was left of my ego. I could sense the power high he was riding and it made me drip. Even so, I felt my pride scrape itself off the pavement for a last ditch effort.
“Wait...you’d say no? Like with orgasm? So I would want to buy something with my money and you’d stop me? But, I-"
He distracted me from my question momentarily by pulling me forward over him and enveloping my nipple in his mouth, his lips teasing the sensitive skin. He picked up speed.
Again, my thoughts were tossed carelessly about and I rushed to compose myself. Before I made much progress, he placed his fingers on my lips; without thinking, I parted them to welcome him in. He gently pressed on my tongue as he pushed his fingers toward the back of my throat. I instinctively loosened the tension in my jaw and sucked on them, lapping with my tongue and coating them with saliva. He murmured his praise. Then his fingers were gone.
His thick, drool-coated forefinger pushed into my asshole without warning. An inhuman sound escaped my throat. His finger and his cock on rubbed against each other inside me as he fucked me with both.
I was crushed against him under his other arm. His voice darkened. “You think you’re even capable of owning money?” he said sharply, growling the words in my ear. "You don’t even own your holes, you whore. I can do whatever I want to you and you couldn’t stop me if you tried. Everything you have is mine because you are mine and that includes your money. I decide how you earn it back and how much, and you will thank me for it.”
I nodded dumbly, glassy-eyed, mumbling yes on repeat. A string of drool from my slackened mouth pooled on his pillowcase. The fullness in both holes overwhelmed me. He praised me for my obedient acquiescence and rocked into me to finally empty his balls into my cunt.
His cock pulsed as his orgasm faded and he groped my tits and hips at his satisfied leisure. I leaned over him with half-lidded eyes, noticing the drool stain on his pillow. I vaguely pondered if I’d be punished for making a mess, but nothing else in particular came to my mind. He smiled with what appeared to be pride, and I smiled back.
Pride looks so good on him, I thought.
