The First Hand Strapping From My Wife

My wife gave me a hand strapping in 2005, along with the first time she put me into bondage and used a doubled over belt on my butt for some BDSM play. I kept a journal of these home-sessions.

Here is the story of the first hand strapping my wife gave me. And more.

Wrist To Neck Binder

Laying on the bed with wide leather straps wrapping the wrists, and a collar, and being linked together makes all the difference.

With wrists strapped up like this the hands can’t cover the butt to ease a heavy strapping or caning.

Every movement of the wrists is felt.

How It All Began

It was early in November 2005 that my wife and I discussed my BDSM needs for the first time. I came out to her about it. Then on the 28th we actually did something about them. And yes I did write a journal on these events hence my use of actual dates.

She was the first person I’d told outside a therapists office about my secret passion, my silent quivers, and to say she was surprised and that I was nervous are understatements. Admitting that the whole belt fetish, hand strapping, that belt bondage and corporal punishment are ‘a real and necessary thing’ for me was one of the most difficult times of my life.

She took it remarkably well actually. She had to be reassured I was not gay, not damaged in some obscure way or reliving some trauma from my childhood or abuse from my past.

It Happened Like This

We’d been married for a while now and things between us had been getting difficult. I put this down to stress from a number of factors. One was my secret feitsh needs. That had over the previous few decades been totally denied and ignored. Now it was gaining strength and causing stress.

The other stresses in my life, work and marriage were feeding into this secret place and vice versa. It was a perfect storm.

The thing is that we love each other and always had. Being ‘difficult’ with each other was tearing us apart.

We’d been discussing things, how I felt which was concerning for her as I was clearly on edge. I was prone to temper flare ups, tears, wanting my own space and struggling to communicate. This was not like me.

After my admission we had a lot of discussion about my special needs and how I felt about it and how she felt about it. She said she couldn’t understand it for a moment. If anyone hit her she’d punch them in the nose. I had to talk to her, to reassure her that this was something different, not in the same league as simply hitting. For me this was all about the fetish, the multiple fetishes and the mental space escaping this world.

I commented that I felt so low a good hard whipping really would not feel bad at all by comparison. If anything it would clarify things, get me out of this life-funk I was in and let me move on. She was astounded.

After lots more discussion she said we’d give it a go. That did surprise me, but she is a very capable person, definite and has depths that regularly surprise me.

We went into the bedroom and got all the belts out of the wardrobe that were suitable, and of course I’d had this prepared in my mind for a while. Maybe I had planned this all along, but I don’t remember doing that (and maybe it is a convenient memory lapse).

Belts, wide ones in particular are my thing, and knowing which ones to use for what really was not a difficult decision.

I asked, then my wife wore a 3 inch wide solid leather belt on her hips and she made a comment that it explained my suggesting she buy (wide) belts when we shopped together.

It was not easy to tell her that yes, I’d always liked seeing her wear a wide belt and for what we were doing, the wide belt was a great look for me. Plus she stripped down to knickers and bra which absolutely added to the while experience.

Again, the wide belt round her bare waist above her knickers looked great.

Strapped Up In Belts

I stripped off, sat on the end of the bed and bound my ankles and knees with belts. I’m quite particular with this having done it for so many years with self bondage. I know what works and feels best.

I lay on my front then showed my wife how I wanted my wrists bound together in the middle of my back. She obliged and that was a vastly new experience feeling the belt circling my wrists tightened so that it was inescapable. I’d never been able to get it that tight in self bondage.

Suddenly I couldn’t get myself out of bondage, the belt round my wrists was not going to allow that. After all those years of self bondage where I could, this was so much better. It had a mental effect on me as I tried to get myself free and couldn’t. It was brilliant and so deeply immersive.

Laying on the bed like this felt special and being strapped up tight like that was and still is a huge fetish.

The Doubled Belt Strapping

We’d talked about what I wanted, to be strapped with a belt and I’d put them down the side of the bed for her saying which one first.

My wife picked up a wide but thin belt, doubled it over, held it by the buckle and loose end and strapped my butt a few times. She had a nice action, quite dainty and also quite nervous as if she feared actually hurting me.

She commented after a few strokes that it was getting red but I told her not to stop and go harder as quite frankly it felt very mild. She is a competitive person and this maybe pushed a few buttons as the next strokes were much harder.

She changed to a thicker and narrowed heavy leather belt and that did sting more and felt more like it. That was what a strapping should be felt like. After a dozen form each side it was starting to sting and I was starting to react.

The visual of my wife dressed as she was with the 3 inch wide belt on her hips moving as she flicked a folded leather belt over her shoulder then brought it down on my butt time and again really was my fetish dream.

My wife then left me for a while, closed the bedroom door and went out. I’d told her this was also something I wanted. It is a very much head space thing, to be left in bondage after a strapping and to await the next strapping as I lay there.

As I lay there in belt bondage with a slightly burning butt, I could hear my wife’s foot steps, then silence, then more footsteps as she moved around the house. When I heard foot steps, was she coming in to give me another strapping? Would it be harder? Which belts would she use to strap me with? All those thoughts and more went round in my mind. And I was loving it.

Some time later the footsteps did return then the bedroom door was opened. “It’s time for your strapping” she said, and after all the years later I remember it well.

My wife then repeated the strapping she’d given me previously. She gave me a cracking dozen from each side with the thinner wider belt, then a dozen from each side with the heavier leather belt. My butt was getting a bit more sting in it, but it really was not too heavy at all.

After this she was thinking it was over. She unstrapped the belt binding my wrists. I rubbed my butt and felt it was mildly warm. I rolled over and unstrapped the belts from around my knees and ankles then I knew what I wanted.

My Wife Gives A Hand Strapping

I slid down off the bed and onto my knees. My butt was stinging and I’d had quite a cathartic time laying on the bed in bondage and it was quite a dreamy time. Even now, after all these years, laying in bondage on the bed really is a sublime time. Part of it is the feeling of the leather belts and part of it is the constriction of the belts holding me tightly.

My wife was standing there looking at me wondering what was to happen next. I knew what I wanted. It was something that had been with me like forever. I leaned over the bed then picked up the brown quite thick belt she’d just used, folded it in half then handed it to her.

Then, as I was still kneeling, I moved back a little so I was still facing her then held a palm out high and flat. This was something we’d not discussed, and was also something that I just had to have.

My wife, without any prompting got the idea quickly. Me in that position with my hand up high and flat, her with a belt in the hand; it was a pretty obvious message. She put the belt up high and over her right shoulder, waited a moment, then brought it down flat on my palm.

The imagery was everything. Over the top of my outstretched and open palm was my wife wearing her wide brown leather belt. As I looked at her, kneeling with a stinging bum from being strapped with that same belt, there she was with it over her shoulder. It was right on the money for my fetish.

I remember it, even now, as being quite a stinging sensation. The leather in this belt was quite thick and dense and folded over was double that. It was about an inch and a quarter wide.

One stroke was a little stinging. I kept the hand up and my wife knew I needed more. This wasn’t school where I got one stroke of the strap only. Now I was five decades older, a grown man with much tougher hands.

She was now (to my thinking) the strict school ma’am giving the strap to a naughty boy (me) and of course my reaction was obvious. I got an erection.

She was also my wife in knickers and bra, wide belt round her waist and holding a doubled over leather belt; she was super-MILF.

As I knelt with that hand out, my other hand found my erection and I began stroking. It was impossible to ignore that, to resist. As I stroked, my wife strapped me again. Somehow the sensation and the stroking went deeper than normal. I remember squinting, maybe changing the whole imagery in my mind to make it more erotic, more fetish, more deep for myself as I stroked.

My wife gave me six strokes of the belt to the hand, then I swapped hands. With the strapped hand working my erection and the other one up high and flat, it too got the strap. My wife was quite quick about it, each stroke maybe six seconds apart so the six to that hand was quite quick but the stroking was pretty darned good.

I’d had six strokes to each hand and a massive erection to prove it.

I swapped hands again. My wife then proceeded to give me a second six strokes to the hand as my other worked away at the erection which was just plain sending me. Even after all these years that special time kneeling on the floor, hand out getting a strapping while the other hand stroked my aching erection I remember it fondly.

That set the pace. My wife strapped my hand six times, I swapped hands and the other got another six. Each time I swapped hand I kept stroking, and each time the sting increased and each time the erection ached for release more and more.

After three sets of six to each hand I buckled over, gasping as I blew, the erection and the stroking, the strapping and the imagery was just too much and the come happened bursting out of me. I remember bending over, deeply, my head almost on the carpet as I shook with the climax, my erection gripped tightly with stinging hands.

I guess my butt must have been fairly high  in the air at this stage as I was bent over.

To my surprise, my wife saw the opportunity and with a fine doubled belt in hand, and without being asked she moved beside me and used that same belt on my butt. She gave me a solid six strokes that left me gasping. What a finish.

The Aftermath

My wife left me in the bedroom bent over feeling like I was almost in a coma because I was so relaxed and spaced out. I eventually got up then cleaned myself up then got dressed.

We didn’t discuss the session straight away, it seemed to be almost forgotten yet we both knew it was special.

Over the coming months we repeated this a few times. And that is a story for later.

I’ve had a few emails from readers who have experienced similar at home. If you are able to share, please feel free to contact me with your story. I won’t publish unless you allow it.

New Femdom Domestic Discipline Series

Femdom Domestic Discipline Series Preview

I am massively guilty of starting writing on a series then not finishing or not publishing when I know I should.

So, this post will hurry me a long. Here is an excerpt from a new series that just needs the finishing touches before I publish it.

I hope you like it.

Barrys Friday Maintenance

After Barry and Jo had been married for a few years they fell into the same old routine of a married couple, but it started to lose it spark, its special qualities that kept them as a couple. The sex and the intimacy had been great and particularly when they’d met at Uni, but after a while it eventually wore off.

Jo had been the first to state the obvious, “What’s wrong with us? We seem to be drifting apart,” and Barry had nodded. “Sweetheart,” he said, “we seem to be getting into a rut. I’ve, ah, been thinking of spicing it up a bit.”

After a lot of discussion and more than a few shocks for Jo, Barry had explained his hidden kink. He talked about his feeling of ‘almost a loss sweetheart, of something missing’ as he explained it and how it had been consuming him. Barry admitted to watching porn on his computer and wanking off to it, then when he showed Jo, showed her the kinds of porn he was drawn to they had some long discussions. At one stage they talked about breaking up but they both loved each other so much and they both wanted to stay together, but as Barry said, ‘sweetheart, it, this thing, this is coming between us,’ so they worked on it and found a way to make it work.

This opened a whole new world for Jo, something she would never have dreamed of in a million years, but it somehow resonated with a part of her deep inside and clearly it did with Barry.

All of a sudden she realized why they got on so well, why Barry was so attentive and wanted to please her so much and why he put her first so often. It explained why she was the defacto leader in the relationship and it was her who often drove the conversation, the lifestyle and the dynamic within their marriage.

The Maintenance

It was Friday night and Barry was looking forward to the night out. He and his wife Jo tried to get out once a week and despite their busy lifestyles in finance and accountancy, they usually managed it.

This week they were meeting up with Amanda and Frank, friends from their early university days. They’d not seen them in at least a few years and truth be told, they were both in slight awe of them. Amanda and Frank really had achieved well, Frank was the CFO of a large organization and Amanda was the CEO at the same place and they looked to be raking in the money considering their lifestyle. Also truth be told, Barry was a little in awe of Amanda as she was so definite, strong, and absolutely no nonsense. He wondered at the dynamic in their relationship at home as after all he and Jo had what many would consider an unusual system. But it worked and that was what mattered to them both.

His reverie about the night to come was cut short when he heard, “Barry, come in here please darling,” Jo called from their bedroom. She’d left to get ready a little while ago and even though it was two hours till they were scheduled to meet Amanda and Frank, Jo liked to try on different outfits and take her time. Maybe she wanted some ideas or feedback on the outfits she’d chosen, he reasoned.

On entering the master bedroom he saw plenty of Jo’s clothes on the bed, ‘so that must be it’ he thought but then he noticed something else which made all other thoughts evaporate. Jo was holding her XH tawse from MC Customs, the supremely painful three tail leather strap that she’d come to love using and he’d come to dread.

“Pop your clothes off darling,” she said with a smile. She pointed the strap at the carpet at the end of their bed, “Then just kneel there please. I’m thinking you could do with a maintenance and I feel like a heart starter for the night. Quickly now,” she said.

Sometimes he regretted their marital discipline relationship as he stripped off. He folded then put his clothes on the end of the bed, neatly, as that had been strapped into him many times, then he knelt on the floor where she’d pointed.

Kneeling and naked, looking up at his lovely wife dressed only in a bra and g-string he felt his cock erecting, and particularly so when he watched her running the leather of that split strap between her hands, caressing the leather as she smiled. Over the last little while Jo had developed quite an aptitude for erotic tease and also, he suspect, a blooming leather fetish. Not that he minded at all, it added a spice to the whole maintenance thing.

Jo walked to stand beside him then she bent so a bra covered breast was in his face, her scent and her perfume strong in his nose, “Tonight when we are at dinner you can think of this,” she said.

His erection was now straining as he nuzzled the bra covered delight of his wife. He loved her breasts and them being in a bra seemed to make them all that much more sensuous and erotic.

Hands UP,” she said firmly with her face next to his.

He lifted his left hand up to kneeling face height then supported it with his right. His wife quickly moved in front so he was now looking over the top of his palm at his wife in her bra and g-string holding her strap. The imminent pain of what was coming was now tempered by the sight of his wife and her strap, as it always did.

With a smile she flicked the three tailed strap up onto his palm then moved back till her arm was nearly straight with the strap extending out and down across his palm and onto his fingers, just laying there feeling menacing and cool. Jo liked to tease, to flick the strap up so he could feel it and anticipate what was to come. Sometimes she would pull the strap off, raise it, then lower it and again gently flick it up to sit there, taking her time, drawing it out, ramping up his feelings as he waited for the strapping to start.

This really did focus the mind. His palm at face height meant he was looking at it, and the end of the strap and along the leather to his wife in front of him in her bra and g-string. She looked damned hot but also dreadfully severe.

“Hands flat, look at me, keep them still,” Jo said sharply and not really needing to say, but they’d talked about this and the theater of the strapping was enhanced by her saying that and she seemed to like doing it. Then after a moment the strap was pulled back then flicked up high and over behind her bare shoulder. This really did focus the mind.

Jo usually took her time with a hand strapping so that he had time to appreciate each stroke, she said, and also to appreciate her she also said. He sure did. It absolutely captivating his mind being in this position and it left nothing to the imagination.

Six Of The Best

— to be continued very soon —

Domestic Discipline

Over the years I’ve written a number of stories in various genres, from penal (strapubus), school (Teaching Teachers) to dungeon (Roby and Rick) and also the “domestic discipline” type stories (training).

Without going into too much detail, these have always held an attraction because they pull the mind into unchartered waters (for most of us). They merge home setting with corporal punishment then the possibility of sex with someone afterward, and not cheating on a marriage.

So, below are links to some existing stories – and a promise of more to come.

Domestic strapping

After dinner and before bed, “Lets just get you ready for bed, I’ve not been happy with you today,” she says. Luckily she’s forgotten to redden the palms with her tawse, or at least that is his hope.

Here are some links to previously pulished domestic type stories;

Millennium Discipline” – discipline in the family unit brings back stability and polite behaviour and saves their society from anarchy and decline. There are multiple stories.

Millennial Discipline Friday Night” – is their end of week review and discipline night. Prepare for sore butts on poor performance.

Melanie Does Session Training” – his wife catches him using his implements on himself then lends a hand to make their marriage very much more satisfying.

Melanie Does Discipline And Bondage” – is part 2 and takes Melanie’s acceptace of domestic discipline a whole lot further.

Hands strapped by the wife” – I gotinto this blog entry far too entheusiastically, but well, here are some tips on enhancing domestic discipline and corporal punishment in general.

Coming in the near future are;

Gary’s Strapping” is about his strict principal wife finding then correcting fault. This has two versions, the succinct, then the longer version for readers to choose and comment on.

Barry’s Maintenance” where his lovely wife gifts him red hands and buns before he pleases her.

Ryan’s Home Strapping” is an account of a marriage gone wrong then returning to fulfilment when fetish and role play become the chemisty for reunion.

‘H’ Hand Strapped By His Wife eMail

I received a fine email today from “H” outlining the discipline that his Wonderful Wife applies through hand strapping.

Here I will share my answer to all those others in a similar position, and to those who may be considering following this commendable lead.

"H" you are lucky to have a Wonderful Wife

First and foremost you are truly lucky to have such a caring and Wonderful Wife who is able to provide for your needs and to help you through life so thoughtfully and effectively.

As you said, when you need punishment for such awful behaviour as shouting, being angry and all the other situations, then yes, She is both a wonderful Wife and you do need the punishment She provides.

Not only that, from the tone of your email, it is clerar that She cares for your mental health through Her discipline so that those ‘black dog days’ when it all gets too much are banished by the leather.

Kudos and respect to your Wonderful Wife.

I Do Have Some Concerns

“H” you mentioned how you sometimes are strapped above the palm and I am sure your Caring and Wonderful Wife knows best. Far be it for me to criticise.

However, the wrists are delicate places and due caution must be observed.

Likewise, the hands do have many small bones such that the choice of implements and severity of use must take into consideration.

Another real concern I have is that your Wonderful Wife clearly cares for your special needs, your mental health, and keeps you balanced and on the right path. But, as I will outline below, I do hope you are properly thankful and provide for the needs of your Wonderful Wife.

I wonder, as a follow up, would you care to more fully describe the strap your Wonderful Wife uses, how many strokes She administers and a little more detail on the sessions? I will only publish should you and She allow.

Your Hand Strappings

Thank you for sharing your hand strapping scenarios.

Standing in front of your punisher as you watch the implement being used on your open palm is always an experience that brings the sometimes unwilling recipient down to earth. It focuses the mind on the present and it ensures that the punishment, that the discipline, sinks in properly.

As the palms redden, as the sting increases and then eventually when they shake from the strapping, it all serves to help one know one’s place in life and to clear the slate, to start again.

There is so much I could say about this form of discipline, and it is the subject of a more major work that has been in preparation for some months now. However it truly is effective and for so many reasons. I am glad it has had the beneficial effects for you that you describe.

Kudos and respect for your Wonderful Wife.

May I Make Some Suggestions?

I hesitate to offer suggestions as it is clear your Wonderful Wife cares for your needs and is obvously in tune with them.

However there are a few little options I have used that She may wish to investigate to give variety to the experience as She sees fit.

Add That Little Extra Sting. When delivering a fine hand strapping or tawsing, the implement is lifted over a shoulder then brought down along the length of the palm and fingers. Usually.

And doesn’t it work so well! The crisp crack of leather on palm, then the face that shows the effect makes this a uniquely suitable and effective punishment for naughty boys and girls hands.

A seldom known technique that can enhance the effect is, after raising the implement over the shoulder, is to reach around and behind the back with the other hand then grip the hanging down tails of the implement firmly.

Then, as the recipient watches with an increasing sense of dread, the implement is placed under tension with both hands gripping firmly as the implement is pulled. At the right moment the tail is released so that the implement fairly flashes down with increased speed.

All this leads to a rather interesting visual effect, and also an increase in severity. The visual effect can be for your Wonderful Wife to show by her extra effort that she cares and to highlight her femininity as she places the implement under tension.

For your punishment days, when you have been truly awful to your Wife, perhaps She might like to trial this technique at Her leisure.

Standing Vs Kneeling. In my experience when giving and receiving a hand strapping, the effect of kneeling is to make the recipient truly more know their place. To kneel, to hold the hand up at eye height then look at the strap laying on the palm in preparation for the next stroke enhances the experience.

As you look over the top of the strap at your Wonderful Wife with Her arm extended, you know She cares.

Likewise the effect is highlighted when the strap is raised over a shoulder. To kneel and watch, as the leather is poised for a moment high and ready, pushes the whole experience deeper.

For you, you would be looking UP at your Wonderful Wife. She cares enough to give you discipline so you would be also saying that you accept it properly.

Collaring Enhances Hand Strapping. It certainly does but one must be super careful it is not done tightly and without care. The feeling of a leather collar or a loosely wound belt (always un buckled for safety) around the neck as the hands are raised for the strap helps the punishment sink in.

“H” when your Wife straps you, if She has collared you, you will know your place. She will be in control and it will be for Her to use the strap as She sees fit.

Perhaps being naked would help. To be naked and kneeling, watching the strap being used leaves no dount in one’s mind what is happening. It helps focus the mind and it ensures you know your place.

Perhaps also, should you become ‘excited’ as you are being punished for a gross rudeness then your Wife will know She needs to apply more punishment. She will be able to see the effect without hearing your gasps and She will know when Her strapping has had the desired effect.

Your Mention Strap, Not Tawse. Yes, the strap when used well most certainly does redden a palm and does bring a sting that is deep down and mind consuming. A nice peice of stiff harness leather does make a wonderful strap and I have more than a few that prove this.

Likewise the end of a belt also, when it is nice leather one about an inch and a half wide and solid can also produce a wonderfully beneficial sting. I am sure your Wife has Her favourites and I am sure She has Her reasons.

But perhaps your Wife may like to try the therapeutic qualities of a fine “XH” (for extra heavy) leather tawse. It would in fact be a fine present for your Wife, and the many stores on the internet will fill your need. Christmas is coming you know so here may be an ideal and most practical present for Her.

Of note is the London Tanners tawse, a most wonderful implement I commend to your Wife. Mine is a 3 tail version which has never failed to bring the kinds of gasps that a well tawsed hand gives.

For those special days when your behaviour has been particularly poor, your Wife may like, at Her pleasure, to apply a quick six of the vey best to each hand. I am quite sure, and depending on the strap She uses, that a fine heavy leather tawse will enhance and drive home the experience quite nicely.

The tawse being quite severe also lends itself to a quick yet very effective punishment. For example if you are rude and impatient when She is getting ready, She may elect to give you a quick six of the very best to each hand. It only takes a minute and the benefit lasts hours. This may also be most beneficial if you are going out with friends, or a work turn, or shopping and your Wife wants to ensure your best behaviour. She may just to make sure, tell you to fetch the tawse then give you a quick double sixer as you kneel, before you leave the house. That way you can remember just how well you should behave as you feel your throbbing palms.

Alternatively, on those black-dog days when you are needing to feed your fetish your Wonderful Wife may elect to give you nice slow warm up with her strap, nice and slow. Each stroke will be given hard with plenty of time to feel the effect and to watch your Wife with Her strap. You can savour the effect, you can bask in the glow of love as your Wonderful Wife disciplines you and sees to your mental health as She brings your hands to a fine warmth with a pink sheen. Then when She chooses She may elect to use Her tawse to finish you off nicely and leave the lasting impression you need.

Sometimes More Is Required. Oh, don’t I know it. To have the hands thoroughly strapped and tawsed is a truly cathartic experience, but, well, it is limited to the hands.

Perhaps and at Her choice, She may wish you to drop your hands, drop your pants to bare then bend over the bed for some bare bottom discipline. Having a tush that is well striped from Her strap, from Her tawse and perhaps even Her favourite belt will help you in your journey. I have found this an ideal addition. It shuld not be ruled out and perhaps your Wife may or may not at Her leisure.

Perhaps you may overstep the mark too far for a mere hand strapping to suffice. Then the bottom takes its share of responsibility for your discipline.

Sometimes it may help for your Wonderful Wife to wear her belt when she knows you need it. She may tap it, run a hand over it and with an eyebrow say ‘This is for you’ and then later, use it.

But when even more is required, may I also suggest that a suitable prison strap such as this fine London Tanners example can also work rather well on the bottom and even the tops of the thighs for the full experience.

I have a very similar prison strap and know the healing effects, and should your Wife so choose, I am sure you will feel those same benefits. You will not be disappointed.

After Time And Reflection. I wonder if after your discipline and punishment sessions, if your Wonderful Wife ensures you have proper reflection time?

Now, I know that sometimes after punishment there is a temptation for those hands to indulge in a pleasure that is perhaps not shared with your Wonderful Wife. That wuld be a pity.

Perhaps She in Her Wisdom may permit it, but may I offer a suggestion?

Perhaps your Wife may like to leave you alone after your punishment to feel the full effects and gain the most benefit from it, particularly if the tawse and prison strap have found full and proper use.

Now, we both know this time can lead to other things so my suggestion is that your Wonderful Wife leaves you in a way that She controls your actions. I am of course talking about leaving you in bondage. She may use some of Her leather belts to bind your aching hands behind your back so they cannot get into mischief. She may also tie your ankles together so you are restrianed and left to reflect on your discipline.

If She is feeling particularly peeved, She may even elect to loop a belt through the wrist and ankle belts to totally immobilize you in a hogtie. I have found this most effective, but it can lead to cramps after a time so I am sure your Winderful Wife will take due care.

Perhaps also, if this were in a darkened room the whole effect might be highly beneficial as then you would only have your Wonderful Wife and your recent punishment to think of.

I also know from experience that the promise of another severe hand tawsing, or prison strapping and preferably both when She returns will add to the whole experience quite nicely.

There is nothing like being in bondage with stinging palms and a red raw bottom from the prison strap as you look at those implements laying there next to you and waiting to be used again. You know how they feel as your palms burn and your bottom and thighs sting. And you wonder how many more you will receive. If you have been horrible to your Wife, you know they will be used hard.

As you lay in bondage you will think about them as you listen for the sounds of your Wonderful Wife to return to give you seconds. Or thirds, as there is nothing to stop Her from repeating this more than once.

Perhaps you may hear your Wife walking in her heels. Is She coming to give another strapping? Then She doesn’t because She is doing what She wants. You may hear Her on the phone, or the doorbell, or the neighbours talking. And you cannot do anything about it. Then later, later when you have accepted your fate and properly understand your place, She returns then you are disciplined properly.

I Do Hope you Thank Her Properly. After your Wife has taken the time to provide what you need, how do you thank her?

Do you provide perhaps the kind of personal service She likes as after all, She had taken care of your needs? I do hope so. It would be rather selfish of you if you had not.

“H” I profess to feel a little concerned that your letter was all about your needs, but what about your Wonderful Wife?

You profess to love her all the more for taking the time to apply the discipline you need, but sometimes actions speak louder than words.

Taking Her Time And Bringing It All Together. I doubt your Wonderful Wife needs instruction as She is quite clearly in tune with your needs.

I know from experience that discipline and punishment are complex issues. It does sound to me like your Wonderful Wife has you well in hand.

Perhaps She may choose to enhance your sessions by adding some of the above ideas – though I am sure She may already be aware of them.

I do admire your Wonderful Wife and wish Her and you all the best.

Millennial Discipline Contract – Part-1 – Friday Night

Friday Night Family Discipline

“John, Jenny, it’s time,” called their mother Claire not long after dinner. She’d watched an episode of the serial she liked then re-read their reports.

Friday night was family discipline night when parents reviewed performance and progress for the week, then applied the discipline required for improvement.

The mantra, ‘We must be the best we can be‘ was backed up every Friday night within the family. That their Sunday night meant a visit by their Discipline Supervisor was not forgotten. Getting more on top of a Friday night discipline was something everyone hated and added extra incentive.

Shaking her head. ‘Disappointing. So disappointing,’ she thought. And worrying too.

She’d had a cup of coffee in the kitchen as she considered her next action. This needed to be nipped in the bud but she knew she was late, their behavior and results had dropped badly and now it was on their pages and she would be in trouble too come Sunday night. The Discipline Supervisor would be sure she was paying a price on Sunday night for this for sure.

But she needed to start sometime, and there was no time better than now. Well, last month would have been better, she wouldn’t be in this trouble if she’d done something about it then.

Things had to change and now she was sure her own performance would be judged badly and she knew that would happen on a parenting supervision review. On Sunday night. Two nights away it was going to be her turn.

Both John and Jenny shot down the stairs and into the lounge room where family discipline was dispensed. Not hearing their mother or being slow usually meant she came up the stairs, into their room and that meant an on the spot discipline happened. They knew to pay attention and respond immediately as a pants down laying on the bed strapping really did set their rears on fire.

“John, you got three black marks and Jenny two. Plus your school results have not been good, not good at at all. Plus, this week I’ve down voted you both three times so I think we’ll clear the sheet right now. Arrange the chair John, Jenny fetch the family strap from my room please. You know where it is.”

Jenny turned to fetch the dreaded family strap, but their mother added loudly so she couldn’t miss it, “John, I think your problem is that you’re not focusing enough on your studies and you spend too much time at night with your hands where they shouldn’t be, on the phone and elsewhere I’m sure. I think three days of denial is in order, and Jenny, I think you need the same. Both of you, put your denial restraint belts and cuffs on before bed.”

“Yes mum,” they both said, and neither was going to argue. They’d both argued with their mum over denial time in the past and each time their mum had used the same and simple solution. Arguing with parents always got a black mark on their reports and that caused extras on a Friday discipline night and it was usually more than one set of six.

Complaining or arguing also meant denial time was increased to a week and they were really annoying. For both arguing and complaining they usually got an additional six of the best strapping every night just before bed as well as denial and that was difficult to say the least. They’d be sleeping on their fronts in denial every night for the week with their hands restrained behind their backs and their butts would be on fire from the strapping. They couldn’t rub their butts or move their hands round their fronts to soothe somewhere else if the heat from the strapping made them needy, which it usually did. It was called denial for a good reason.

It was different after a Friday night strapping. They usually had an hour or two before they were put in denial and hence the sting abated slightly. That time, small though it was, made all the difference. When they got extra from complaining just before bed it seemed to sting and be so much hotter and difficult.

The only option they had was best behavior. They knew to do the dishes and clean up so carefully. Any kind of excuse on discipline night just multiplied what they got. Not only that, they got such a telling off that it was demeaning and embarrassing.

But of course it all got posted on their Family Pages for the whole world to see. If they got extra for complaining then their friends saw it and commented at school. Teachers would see it and comment. People down the street they knew, places they worked part time at would all comment about the extras. To say it was demeaning was the understatement of the century.

Fetching The Strap

Jenny exited the lounge room then headed up the stairs, reluctantly.

Each step brought her one step closer to the family strap, each step made it more inevitable. With each step she anticipated holding that strap in her hands.

Holding the family strap had become consuming these last few months. Now she couldn’t resist, standing there holding the family strap, running it through her hands. It was almost impossible not to fondle it. She held the handle in her right hand then ran her left hand slowly down the handle feeling the leather, along the strap, then over the last third of the length with the twin tails that gave it such a bite. She fondled the strap just like her mom did, both of them running it through their hands the same way.

She knew from all her friends that a family strap was normal in houses now. None of her friends didn’t have one at home. The strap usually hung in the parents rooms in their walk in robes or behind a door. She’d heard of some parents who claimed the strap was barbaric but she’d also heard that their children had been ostracized by everyone.

Oh how she wanted a boyfriend right now. Some mornings she woke so needy. The thought of a sleep over and how her boyfriend would be subject to the same discipline she and John were was disquieting. Then the thought of her sleeping over at his house and being subject to discipline there. Now that was even more unsettling. Having to bend and pull down her knickers for the strap or the cane in front of strangers was a strange thought.

She ran the strap through her hands again. Time was getting on but she couldn’t resist standing and feeling the strap.

Yet again, she ran her hand along the leather and out of nowhere wondered what it would feel like to apply it to a bent bottom. She had a momentary image of herself with this in her hand, clenched hard, applying it to John’s bent butt, bringing up a red band that spread and showed the crimson streaks from the twin tails.

She imagined how it would proceed; she’d be extending her arm with the strap at the end and tapping it on Johns butt cheek to get her range. She’s seen her mom do this so many times, and been the recipient more times than she could count. It did serve to focus the attention. She knew the feel of the strap laying on her bent bottom, knew the feel of it flicked in the air then it cracking down in a slightly stinging stroke, a ranging stroke. She imagined doing this, the strap under her control as she watched the leather flicking up then down. This whole thing, this tapping of the bottom in front of her was almost as if the strap made the bottom aware of what was happening, just before lashing it properly, letting the bottom know what was to come.

Running her hand along the leather, she imagined putting it way back behind her, swiveling her shoulders away from the bent naked butt in front of her. Just like he mom did. Then she’d bring her arm around and uncoil her shoulders to make the twin tails swish through the air and land flat on the butt in a ‘splaat’ that cracked and echoed through the house.

Damn. The whole mental image was doing her head in. Then she felt it, a warm tingle between her legs she normally only felt when the lights went out, she was in bed, and her fingers were dancing around her front.

Dammit times infinity. Not that she’d be doing it tonight, her mother was going to put them both in denial for a few nights so no naughty business for them.

“JENNY,” called her mother. “Come down this instant or else.”

She knew what the ‘or else’ meant. Usually a dozen. An extra dozen on top of what she was going to get anyway.

Bend For The Strap

Meanwhile, back in the lounge after Jenny went up the stairs, John turned then got the tall backed chair from the dining room table and put it into the middle of the lounge.

“You first,” his mother said so he dropped his trousers, pushed down his briefs as he stood behind the chair. Bending forward he lifted his long school shirt so it was clear of his bottom, then when he was fully bent over, he reached down and gripped the chair seat.

The cool air on his bottom was ominous. Damn. It was always like this, bent, bared, waiting for Jenny to fetch the strap. Worst of all, for the last two years he’d been having erections in this position while he waited. What was it with baring his butt in preparation for the strap?

Now, every time he bent he found himself hardening up so he always quickly bent to hide it against the chair. A few times his mum had told him to rise half way through his strapping so as to check his state. Luckily every time it had gone down when his butt was stinging madly.

The problem was that it returned when he watched his sister getting the strap. Every damn time the sight of his mum wielding that damned leather strap hardened him up and his mother always caught him with the erection, suggesting another strapping was in order.

He and his mother didn’t have long to wait. Jenny returned with the strap then handed it to his mom. Lifting slightly and looking to his left, he saw his mom hold the strap in both hands and run her hand along the length of the tails, feeling them. She was almost fondling the leather, appreciating it, not that he’d appreciate it the way she was going to use it.

She always did that, and he wondered why. He’d never touched the thing, and quite the opposite, it always touched him right where he didn’t want it to.

“Bend,” said his mom, noticing he’d come up to see Jenny return from upstairs. Then she added, “Properly,” which meant he was bent almost double, his butt sticking up high and proud. And bare. And defenceless.

He bent down again, and again his butt was the highest part of him with the cold evening air on it making him very aware of where he was, but he knew it would be red hot soon enough.

He didn’t have long to wait. From his position all he could see were his mothers feet moving to one side of him and a little back, then something tapped his rear He knew what that was.

Then the strap was lifted and flicked back down so it was a light slap of the leather tails, making him jump. If anything these served to make his erection harder and right now it was rock hard. This repeated. The leather was removed then a moment later there was a slap as the tails were flicked back down. Mom was getting her range, setting up for the strapping.

There was nothing for a few moments then he heard movement. Something indistinct. Like the sound of air over something.

Gunshot loud a ‘craack’ preceded an immense sting right in the middle of his butt.

The first was always the worst.

He hissed, “oohh” then in a few seconds when the sting peaked, “aaahh,” as he clenched his butt cheeks, waggled his hips and shook his legs.

The first half dozen were always the worst he thought. The butt was fresh and tender and unprepared so it reacted strongly to the two tails of their family strap coming down hard.

The second stroke arrived in a handful of seconds, the time taken for his mom to tap his butt once, then put the strap far behind her and wind up.

It landed equally hard and on exactly the same place making his gasp of pain louder, as it should have been. Damn but two in the same spot stung.

All his friends at school had talked about this. All their mom’s had a similar strap and they all used it pretty much the same way. They’d talked about it regularly and the consensus was that there must be some kind of manual or video on how to give a strapping as there was almost no variation. All the moms gave the strokes a few seconds apart, not waiting long, and they all tapped the bared butt then put the strap way back and behind them and wound up for the delivery.

“It’s like a forehand in tennis,” his friend Ralph said. “My mom winds up then blam, she lets me have it right onto the butt time and again. Shit, I get a dozen spread out and it’s hard to sit for a day.”

John had nodded, “Me too, my mom is the same.” All the other boys nodded and agreed. One had added, “My mom straps my thighs if she’s really angry. Had that?”

They all nodded. They’d all had it that way and hated it. For all the obvious reasons.

His mom was clearly annoyed as she usually spread the strokes out over his butt and only came back to the same place if there were going to be a lot of them. This time and two on the same place meant she was cross. Not only that, she was timing the strokes more carefully than she usually did.

His mom usually gave strokes a few seconds apart, requiring just the time it took to put the strap far behind herself then bring it round onto his butt. This time she was delaying a half dozen seconds and he couldn’t help think that it made the strapping worse. After each stroke the sting increased. It increased and increased, then when it peaked his mom slammed the strap down for the next stroke so it really was worse than a normal strapping.

The second ‘craack’ of strap on his butt had lifted his chest up for a moment, his arms struggling to keep him down then as the pain again peaked his “Aaaghhh,” came out stronger.

That was two. He didn’t know how many he was getting but it was seldom less than a dozen. With his report he guessed it might be eighteen and hopefully no more.

The strapping proceeded. The ‘craack’ of the third stroke found a new part of his butt, a little lower and the fourth a dozen seconds later landed on top so now his whole butt felt like a wide band of fire was laying on it.

The fifth was high on the butt, above the others and on a new area also. Then the sixth landed on top of that one and now his whole seat was blazing.

Then his mom stopped. The delay in the strapping was unusual as she usually wanted to get it out of the way and go back to whatever she’d been doing. Not this time.

“John, that’s your first six.” She was speaking sharply. He didn’t like the word ‘first’ as it implied more sets of six. He felt the strap laying in his flaming butt, the weight of the leather just felt in among the stinging heat.

“Here is your second. Hold tight,” she said quietly.

He braced himself expecting the next stroke right in the middle of the butt over the place where the first two strokes had landed. He knew his butt was starting to lose its sensitivity a little, the strapping dulling it slightly. It was a phenomenon he and Jenny were quite used to.

Not only that, his erection was gone now, the heat and sting in his butt had driven that completely out of his mind. All he could feel in his front was, nothing. Nothing at all. His butt was screaming out drowning all other thoughts.

This time the strap landed in the middle of his thighs, right in the middle of the backs of his legs exactly half way between the sit spot and the back of his knees. He’d been strapped there before, many times and dreaded it but was unable to control himself. He shouted out “Yarrr”, shot upward and rubbed his hands over the fierce band of sting, not that it helped much at all. The twin tails of the family strap lashed deep into his thighs resisting any kind of lessening of the sting.

“That one does not count. Bend for the repeat,” his mother said slowly and coldly.

He instantly regretted standing.

It was a rule in the family just the same as for all his friends that if he or his sister rose during a strapping the stroke was repeated. Some of his friends mom’s even added penalty strokes, sometimes one and a few of the mothers made it two. He was thankful his mother didn’t know to add penalties. Three extra was not what he wanted at all.

But his mom did know. “Rise again and it will be two extra as well as the repeat,” she said, “same as what your friends get. I’ve been checking their pages. I’ve been far too lenient with you and Jenny. Jenny, let this be a lesson to you, you will get the full three if you rise.”

“Yes mom,” said Jenny quickly, standing in front of John watching the strapping with real fear. But also she felt something else, something insidious was happening and she couldn’t resist its effects.

Jenny knew it would all too soon be her turn to bend and have that strap lick across her butt and feel the red hot sting again. But that didn’t stop the feelings as she thought about how it would feel to use the strap like her mom was. That was something she couldn’t let go and it was exciting.

For John, as he waited he feared the worst then it arrived. Another stroke right over the top of the last one, doubling the sting in his thighs which he had thought would be impossible. He lifted his chest slightly but kept his grip on the chair seat as he yelled out in pain, “Aaggh,” and then in a few seconds as it seeped into him, “Oh-oh-hooo,” and he remained bent over.

Not long later his mom wound up and strapped him again, and again it was in the same spot. Three in a row and the sting was incredible. “Agghh mom, please,” he gasped. This was far harder than he’d ever had before.

“Far too lenient,” his mom said then the next stroke landed just above the band of flaming sting from the previous three. Well, two with a repeat. This too blazed into him and hurt like hell making him gasp as did the next placed over the same place.

Still bent he hoped like hell this was the last six, but he had two more strokes to go. The next arrived lower, just above the backs of his knees and below the first three strokes. He jumped, he shook his legs and he lifted slightly but remained down and he barely kept the gasps in. The next stroke was over the top and this too just felt impossibly painful.

“That’s better. Take your strokes properly.” Then after a second she added, “We all have to if we want to be the people we should be.” His mom was making an effort tonight, he could almost feel the determination she had in applying the strap. “It would be far better not to earn them in the first place. Maybe they’ll help you with that.”

As he was bent over he felt something cool laying on his bottom. He looked up and around so see his mom had her arm extended so she was resting the strap on his butt. Not a good sign. Then his butt was tapped lightly, the strap lifting up then falling down, then it happened again. She was teasing him almost, the taps getting stronger as she repeated.

“That was your second six, with an extra. Lets see how we go with the third six shall we,” she said quietly, ominously quietly. She sounded determined and more than a little cross.

He didn’t have long to wait. The first stroke scorched over the crown of his butt. Then while he was gasping and shaking his butt, the second landed almost on the same spot but just a little down. He didn’t have long to wait for the third which was lower again. Then the fourth, the fifth and the sixth strokes all landed lower and lower till the sixth had landed on the join between his butt and his legs, right at the top of his thighs. That stung, lifting him up onto his toes and made him shake his legs and butt in the sting.

After this six he was gasping and shaking his hips, trying to get on top of the sting and the heat and he noticed something. His whole butt was an even hot, an even sting, every part of it stung infernally. Mom hadn’t missed a bit of it.

Again he felt the strap laying on his butt. Again he looked back to see his mom poised, arm extended, the strap lifting just a little then fall back with a gentle arm flick.

The delay lingered, then lingered some more as the strap rose then fell just a few inches so he was aware of it. Then, “Those thighs need more,” his mom said quietly.

It was the last place he wanted strapped.

This time and just seconds later the strap streaked around then slammed into the tops of his thighs making him jump and stamp his feet. “Yaaahh,” he gasped with the pain, his thighs and butt both screaming in the red hot intensity of the strapping. He looked back and saw his mom’s feet moving then the next ‘craack’ sounded and again the strap slammed into his thighs just a little way down from the last. He barely kept himself down, barely was able to stop himself from rising in the immense sting from the strapping.

Only the thought of three more strokes of the family strap to his thighs kept him down.

In the pain, in the total immersion of the red hot sting he managed to stay down, just. His mom applied the strap as hard as she could moving the lashes down his thighs till the last one was just above his knees, the whole area a band of red hot sting.

Again there was a delay, and again he hoped that was the last set of six. Again he felt the strap laying on his bottom as his mom looked at her handiwork. “John, that was four sets. If your school ever posts a report like that I’ll double it up.”

That was a hell of a number. His butt would be roasted and he didn’t want to think about his thighs. If he had to wear swimming trunks the bruises would show for days. Lucky he was in long pants then he almost smiled. Not so for Jen, she wore some short skirts and he’d seen other girls with strap marks on their thighs at school, even the girl he fancied like hell had.

The strap rose and fell, a light crack as she strapped him to keep his attention, then another, then another. “I am so tempted to give you more you have no idea. Now stand in front of the char and Jenny can have her turn.” With that the strap rose then cracked down harder making him jump.

As he rose he felt the pain in his butt and thighs increase. She was sure taking a liking to cracking that strap down. Even the light strokes like that last little one were painful.

He stood then went to raise his pants but his mom ran the strap through her hands, flicked it in the air and caught it. “No. Pants down.” So he shuffled till he was standing in front of the chair, intensely aware of his cock and worried it would erect itself despite his best intention. The heat from his strapping wasn’t helping. At the moment it was all sting and some heat. In a few minutes the heat in his front would ramp up and he just knew he’d get a stiffie.

With every movement he took and even when he was standing still he felt his butt and thighs scream out their anguish from the strapping. No part of them wasn’t red hot and stinging.

But his cock was starting to twitch as Jenny moved forward. Dammit, it was impossible to control the damned thing he thought. Why did he get that feeling when it was his sister? There was something vastly wrong about that. Then and even worse, how would it be if it was his girlfriend in this position? She shuddered to think, then the thought of her staying over made him think thoughts that just made it all the more difficult to keep his cock under control. Damn and triple damn.

— Continued in Part-2

Millennial Discipline – Where It Started

The Problem With Society

Early in the 2000’s it was noticed that society was trending downward in so many things, so many ways. It was happening all over in their country and it was pervasive. Soon it was realized this was a slow-death of their way of life and that the damage would be irreparable.

First of all the new millennial generation were massively entitled. Getting the young to actually do work, to attend school and learn, to become responsible citizens was getting harder as time went by. Then, after a few years, the realization came that the new young adults the children had grown into were no better than they had been as children and if anything, were worse. They were permanently attached to the smart phones, to their computers and blotting everything else out in their lives.

The thing that really hit home was the casual rudeness and poor attitude of the young. They just didn’t care. Some small trials were started and failed. Using incentives, using rewards, using removal of privileges but nothing worked. The entitled generation blew through those with a torrent of abuse, whinging, screams and crying. Something more stern was needed.

The great debate was then begun as ‘Something had to be done’ else society would collapse.

A Discipline Contract Is Designed

After a time, the ‘Millenial Discipline Contract’ was developed

To say it was unusual was the understatement of the age. It harked back to a hundred or more years ago when etiquette, manners and politeness mattered mattered and were enforced.

Now and with the more modern nature of their troubles, the use of technology was included into the contract and made the system society-wide pervasive, transparent and effective. Suddenly there was total inclusion of the whole of society in this contract.

The implementation was then, after the realization it had to be done, quick and simple.

It worked like this;

Discipline Supervisors were trained at an academy The syllabus included consistent grading of performance and awarding discipline for those they supervised. Then discipline was administered in the form of corporal punishment and other means to bring about a change to a persons life. They trained on each other and well understood the effects of a carefully applied strap, cane and tawse. The year of intense training and qualification exams included many practical sessions so they would maintain standards from a first hand experience point of view as they too were not exempt from the contract.

All recipients of their discipline could be sure that they were treated fairly and the same as all other recipients. Quickly the complaints flooded in from parents and teenagers alike as to the severity of discipline which had shocked their systems to the core. Suddenly the results of their attitude were brought home and usually on welted throbbing posteriors. The complaints were then, with minimal effort, resolved with ease; supervisors were swapped. Suddenly it was found there was absolutely no difference and once the penalty demerits awarded for the trouble they caused had been worked off in the form of extra discipline, the complaints ceased completely and once and for all.

Everyone had a Page that showed their performance. The internet was included into the system and given a boost to the way it worked. Every single person was given a Page, usually associated with a Family Page that showed how they had been behaving, showed any black marks and demerits accumulated, and showed any discipline awarded and the causes. For teenagers this usually meant that results of school exams as well as any social interactions with others that might cause issues, and parents were not immune. Workers could find themselves with black marks from their employers for any number of reasons.

The effect on casual rudeness was instant and profound. Not saying please and thank you, not helping, not being the best person they could be all conspired to add black marks to a Page that would then bring about review and discipline.

For example, a teenager getting a low score in a math exam would have that noted on the Family Page, then a black mark included from their teacher on the teenagers Page. After hours, on the weekends, any kind of mischief or even being rude to someone would also add a comment and a black mark and this was for all to see. While the opportunity for abuse of the system did exist, and did happen at times, this was quickly stamped out when the consequences for offenders was published on their Pages, linked to from all those they offended, and a summary of the discipline they received from their Supervisors was given. Repeat offenders were few and far between.

An open and effective supervision system, transparent and available to all made the system work as well as it did.

Come the weekend and usually on a Sunday night Millennial Discipline Supervisors would visit then clear any demerits and black marks.

Usually this meant at least a strapping, sometimes the tawse and quite often a sound caning all of which left the recipient remembering their mistakes, promising not to repeat them and almost worst of all, having it documented on their Pages.

On Monday mornings at workplaces, at schools, at homes all across the country it became common to talk about discipline recieved and the effect. It was common for those having received discipline the night before to experience painful moments when they sat, and often for a few days afterward.

The change in society was marked, as was the deportment of the general population as a result of the applied discipline and the new sport of monitoring Family Pages to see who had got what discipline applied the night before.

The mantra for society then changed to be, ‘The millennial discipline contract helps make us the best we can be.

Then as the first generation went through the system, the discipline was found to be absolutely traumatic but it worked.

This cemented a whole new ethos and also sub-industries catering for the needs of a society using corporal punishment on a regular basis. Shops flourished selling canes, straps, tawse and other specialized equipment. Not only that, the thriving shops found that full service for their clients was required. They provided tuition in the use of such equipment, video tutorials, practical hands on demonstrations with mannequins and sometimes even staff participated in training for both giving and receiving as it was seen as a mark of growth and maturity to accept such in public.

Supervisors and Family Life Changes

Then over the years the millennial discipline contract became the bedrock of their society, expanding and changing to suit the changes to their society.

Sunday night the Discipline Supervisors would visit then discipline would be enforced. The slate might be wiped clean, but marks would be left elsewhere.

Quickly the value and virtue of the system was recognized then expanded into Friday night home discipline sessions where mothers applied discipline to their households adding an extra layer of discipline to the society and this was in addition to the Sunday night Discipline Supervisor visits.

Not only that, it had become accepted practice for ‘Maintenance Wednesdays’ to be imposed for repeat offenders and those in need of improvement.

Maintenance meant they received discipline, irrespective of performance, on a Wednesday night to give them a short sharp shock, to make them aware, to ground them, to keep them in a state where the knowledge of their performance had been sub standard and monitored.  The goal was to make the recipients aware that they were being watched, their performance had been poor, needed improvement and they must improve immediately. For the Maintenance to cease, their behavior must improve and be seen to improve for at least a few weeks.

What follows is the story of Claire (the mother), John and Jenny her teenagers in living with and experiencing the Millennial Discipline Contract.

This is a multi-part fictional story. The first part to be published mid December 2020.

Session Training Story – Part 1

It's Been So Long - Session Training

He booked the BDSM session then decided to check his gear. He had a great collection of belts, straps, tawse and even a stingy 22 lash leather whip. It was all kept out of the way, hidden in the shed. While his wife Melanie knew of his BDSM sessions, she was of the sort ‘don’t ask, don’t tell.’

As he was cleaning his gear he wondered how it felt. That was silly really, he’d been strapped by all his implements so many times that nothing would be a mystery. Heavy corporal was his thing.

The thing was, it had been a year since his last session. So putting out his left hand long and flat, he gave himself a stroke with his Lochgelly tawse and WOW that stung. He collected himself, then gave himself another. That too challenged him to the max as did stroke number three.

That was his limit he decided. It was just plain excruciating, the XH tawse earning its extra heavy rating easily.

‘That’s going to be an issue’ he said to himself. Mistress was going to use his gear and the way his hand felt after just three strokes meant it would be super hard to take.

Pulling up all his courage he put his other hand out then gave himself three on that one.

‘Damn’ he said quietly. His hands were red and stung like crazy after just three medium power strokes each.

As he cleaned his gear he wondered how the session would go, how would he be able to take the corporal mistress gave him. He had a full week left before the session and he knew he would be worring about it all that time.

Then he had an idea. ‘I should go into training’ he said quietly to himself. Then he laughed at the image of that… ‘training for a tawsing’ and laughed a little more. But it stuck in his mind.

Finishing up he put the gear back in the shed then thought nothing more about it. Till the next day.

Scheduled Training

Every afternoon Melanie went out, usually for shopping. Usually it was for the evening meal, sometimes it was for clothes. She liked to get out and he didn’t mind. Sometimes when she wasn’t shopping she went for a long walk to get her exercise, so there was always an hour of privacy to be had each day. On the weekends she often had a girls afternoon at a cafe or restaurant so he had time then also.

So that afternoon was the ideal time so he did it. He went into the shed then got his Lochgelly three tailer. Putting out his hand he gave himself three which hurt like hell. Then he gave himself three on the other hand. That too hurt. ‘Damn’ he said to himself.

‘I need more than that’, he said to himself. Mistress was going to give him so much more.

He rubbed his hands, he went out and ran some cold tap water on them which helped. That cooled them down so he thought ‘lets go again’.

Then he went back into the shed and repeated. So now he’d had six to each hand. They were now red and quivering a little and he though, ‘that’s a good start.’

But then he added, ‘That’s really only a small start’ he said quietly as he replaced the tawse. And it was. Mistress would give him a few dozen at least.

He exited the shed then decided he would repeat every afternoon.

Practice Helps

On the second day he repeated after Melanie left and this time he was able to give himself the three to each hand, shake them a little, rub them, then repeat. No cold water this time.

‘Better’ he said, and it was. He was able to take that a little better.

On the third day he repeated again and gave himself six in a row. ‘WOW’ that still hurt like the devil but he got through it.

‘Getting used to it’ he said but in the back of his mind was they were only medium strokes, mistress used the tawse a lot harder.

Then it was clear with that in mind, ‘I need more. Maybe some in the morning when she’s having a shower’ came to his mind. He could get double in a day and his palms would be ready for mistress.

On the forth day he did just that. Melanie hit the showers, he went into the shed and hit his palms six times each with nice hard strokes from his XH tawse. That left them red but it had an effect.

Then in the afternoon when Melanie went shopping, he did a repeat.

‘Double sixers’ he said to himself that evening as he was chatting with Melanie she commented that he looked happy with himself and he was. ‘All going well sweetheart’ he said as he kissed her, they did get along well.

All Change

On the fifth day he woke up, he and Melanie had breakfast then she went in for her shower.

He went into the shed then got his tawse. He put it over his shoulder, put his other hand out then brought it down harder than before. He was getting used to this, so using it a bit harder came naturally. ‘Crack’ it went making him gasp just a little.

He then repeated it. He took his time. He focussed on the palm and the leather tawse in his hand to the exclusion of all else. That was the way, in a session nothing else existed.

Therefore he didn’t hear anything else. So,  just as the tawse was coming down Melanie put her head into the shed as it cracked onto his palm and he gasped. ‘I’ve been wondering what you are up to and seeing this, I still have no idea. What’s going on,’ she said with a look of concern on her face.

His heart went into his mouth. Damn. Caught. He couldn’t lie worth spit so he spelled it all out.

‘Sweetheart, I’ve got a BDSM and corporal session booked in a few days. You know, I told you about that. Well I haven’t had anything for a year and I was wondering how I would take it. The answer is badly so I’ve sort of, ah, um, gone into training. I’ve been giving myself a tawsing with this every morning and night. I think it’s helping.’

She walked into the shed then looked at the tawse, looked at his hand. ‘It is red. How many do you give yourself,’ she asked surprising him.

‘Six in the morning and six in the evening. To each hand. That’s two,’ he said feeling totally stupid and over sharing. But she was hard to resist when she questioned him.

‘OK,’ she said, ‘show me,’ and that surprised the hell out of him. He was hesitating so she nodded at him, ‘Go on, I want to see it. Do it.’

He sighed, ‘OK,’ then raising his hand he gave himself the third. ‘Ah,’ he said. then he gave himself three more and each made him gasp a little each time.

The thing was, with Melanie there he’d gone even harder than he had been so they stung more. Something in him wanted to show her he could take it, something said he had to make it real. The end result was that his hands were now much more red and they sure did sting.

‘Other hand’ Melanie said sweetly. ‘Go on,’ and this was a new side to her he was thinking.

Putting the other hand out he repeated. It too got its six and that left it red and shaking a little also.

‘Pass me that would you,’ she said eyeing off his tawse. He handed it over then she ran it through her hands, feeling the leather.

‘It is a nice piece of leather,’ she said, ‘I’ve never thought about this. And so thick and stiff. I bet that hurts. Show me your hands, side by side,’ she said as she held the tawse.

In truth this was feeding his fetish, seeing her with the tawse but he obeyed.

‘Oh they are red. How about I give them another six. I kind of feel like this, doing it. Lets go inside,’ and with that she turned and led him into the house, the tawse in her hand by her leg moving as she walked.

He didn’t have a choice, the idea of declining felt more embarrassing that going along with whatever Melanie had in mind. Melanie could be forceful when she wanted and this was one of those times.

Melanie Doubles Up

Melanie didn’t just walk into the house, she walked into the bedroom.

‘Now, how does  mistress do this? You’ve never really told me,’ she said sweetly as she ran the tawse through her hands.

‘Ah, darling, she makes me kneel then I hold out a hand then she straps me. Then I have to swap hands and she does it again.’

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘why the kneeling thing?’

‘Ah, um, because I have to look up at her and see her with that strap in her hands and I have to focus on it when she brings it down on my hand. It’s very difficult.’

Melanie looked at him, she ran the tawse through her hands, then she looked up, ‘OK, kneel then. We’ll make this a proper training then.’

This was getting a little out of hand, he just stood, ‘Are you sure. This is not like you at all.’

‘Darling,’ she said, ‘I thought you were in the shed wanking off and now I find this. I think your hands should be strapped. Kneel,’ she said pointing to the carpet at the end of the bed.

So he did. Then he held his left hand up, level with his head just like how he did in a session.

‘Good,’ said Melanie. ‘I presume mistress stands in front,’ then she did just that.

‘What now?’ she asked.

‘Mistress flicks the tawse, that’s what the strap is called, up onto my palm, pulls it back, puts it up high over her shoulder then brings it down along the palm and fingers.’

“OK,’ she said. She flicked the tawse up making it land on his palm. She’d always had great hand eye coordination and now it was going to come in handy.

‘Like this,’ said Melanie as she pulled the tawse back, then raised her hand high over her shoulder with the tawse hanging down behind her.

His eyes were wide as he took her in, the visage of a disciplinarian giving the tawse. She made his throat almost close over as he said, ‘Yes.’

With that one word she swished the tawse down along the length of his palm and fingers, making them suddenly explode in sting. ‘Ahh,’ he said as he waved it. ‘Ow.’

And he meant it. She’d used it harder than he had, the crack was louder the the sting deeper. It was only natural he thought, self strapping really was difficult to do properly as it was from the wrong angle and with the best will in the world, it would never be as hard as someone else doing it.

‘Five more,’ she said sweetly. ‘Get that hand up.’

This was a new Melanie. A new melanie with an XH three tailed tawse.

He lifted the hand, watched Melanie as she raised the tawse over her shoulder, then when she brought it down it took all his will power not to move his hand, to accept the leather.

Melanie strapped him with the XH tawse for a total of six times to the hand so hard he couldn’t believe how hard well she did it. By the end, it was bright red and shaking more than when he did it. Much more.

‘Does it always shake like that,’ she asked as she looked at the red hand in front of her.

‘After that tawse, always,’ he said as he tried to absorb the pain and now show how damn painful it was.

‘Good,’ she said smiling as she ran the tawse between her hands again and again. He was thinking it was over when she said, ‘Come on. Other hand up. It needs its six.’

Finishing Melanie Off

Melanie gave him six to his other hand and he could only think of them a six of the best as they sure were.

Each stroke lashed down the middle of his palm and along his fingers, pushing the hand down and making a crack that mistress would have been proud of. Melanie was getting the hang of this tawse awfully quickly.

After that both his hands were bright red and about strapped out – they would really struggle to take more.

Melanie was smiling at him. ‘So,’ she said, ‘that’s your training then. Is that all or do you do more?’

‘Ah,’ he said unable to hide anything from her, ‘well, I’ve been giving myself a sixer in the evenings when you’re out shopping.’

‘Oh. OK,’ she said happily, ‘we can go again then.’ Then she stopped for a moment, ‘Have you been wanking as you’ve not been that interested in me lately. I wonder, are you using that time to crack one off?’

She was being unusually direct and with her holding the tawse, he was completely unable to lie. ‘Well, sometimes.’ The truth was, most times he had a wank.

‘In that case,’ she said, ‘I think six each hand becomes twelve in the afternoon and we’ll see about that wanking. For now,’ she said, then she opened her dressing gown then sat on the end of the bed.

He was stunned as he watched her. This was a whole new Melanie, gone was the slightly introverted lights always off for sex Melanie.

She opened her legs wide and suddenly he was looking between her legs. She had a nice pussy and up close and personal as this was, it looked inviting.

‘I think you can make me come. Right now. Get at it.’ To make the point she lifted the tawse and waved it at him. ‘You know what I like,’ she said, ‘make it a good one. Fingers and tongue. No comes for you.’

Indeed, it didn’t take long at all as she was clearly aroused and her climax was certainly a good one from the noise and the shaking she made as she crested.

When it was over he realized he had a hell of an erection. He started to gently pet his wife right where he’d just a minute before his face had been.

He was stroking her gently, making it erotic for her when she saw right through him, ‘No way naughty boy. No come for you till you get back from your session.’

Then she pushed his head back firmly. ‘Up you get, I’m having a shower. And no wanking. No wanking at all unless I do it for you.’

All he could say as she stood then embraced him was, ‘OK sweetheart.’

She smiled, ‘And what do you say for me helping you with your session training?’

‘Thank you sweetheart,’ seemed best.

The Afternoon Training

He was feeling pretty much desperate for a wank by the time the afternoon came around and Melanie was due to go for a shopping expedition. This would be his chance to pull out the old snake and give it a rub to crack a load out as he looked at some bondage porn on the net.

He was sitting thinking about that when Melanie stopped her preparation for shopping and looked at him. ‘Why are you looking like that? Have you got something planned?”

He tried to look as innocent as possible, ‘What? No. I was just thinking about doing some jobs.’ And he had, he was going to lighten his load dramatically and with maximum effect.

Melanie looked at him again. Then she realized, ‘Ah. I get it. With me out you’re going to wank off again. No. Not going to happen. These sessions of yours, what happens?’

With that he was again in the headlights, transfixed by her stare and almost psychic questioning. She quizzed him about what gear he had, how it was used, what he enjoyed. After five grueling minutes she had a full picture.

‘I see. In that case I have the ideal solution. Go get your gear and bring it into the bedroom. Quickly now.’ she said.

Minutes later Melanie was digging through his gear then pulled out three longer belts.

‘Trousers off, boxers and shirt off. Lay on the bed face down,’ she said holding the belts in her hand.

He was suddenly sporting a massive erection which she noticed. Seeing his Melanie with a fist full of belts was right on his fetish, on the money, exciting him. Right then and there he could have mounted her for a massive poke he knew would be a winner.

But Melanie had other ideas.  ‘And that won’t get any use,’ she said as she flicked a belt end against his throbber making him jump then lay down on the bed where she pointed to, ‘Quickly now’ she said.

As soon as he lay down Melanie leaned down, put his wrists behind and in the middle of his back then wrapped a belt round them and buckled it tightly. Seconds later she did the same to his ankles and then his knees, and now he was naked face down on the bed. She’t put him into a very nice belt bondage position and he was kind of liking it.

‘That’s better,’ she said as she stood up. ‘No wanking possible now and I don’t want to see a stain on the bed when I come back. Or else.. See you when I get back. We’ll do some more strapping of those hands for your training I think.’ she said as she walked out the door.

He lay on the bed feeling the straps wrapping him, keeping him totally immobile. He lay in the bondage, drifting, thinking of the image of Melanie with all those belts in his hands and he felt his erection answering those thoughts.

Laying in bondage he heard Melanie walking through the house then  the sound of a door close.

She’d gone. He lay on the bed feeling the lovely bondage.

Then some short time later he heard footsteps again then Melanie returned. ‘I got into the car before I realized something. We’ve been training your hands with that strap. What about your butt? Doesn’t that need training?’

He lay wondering where that was heading when he felt it, something laying on his bare butt. Something cold. Something he guessed was leathery and going to be painful.

— to be continued. Maybe. —

Millennial Discipline Contract

Embracing Discipline

The very fabric of society was breaking down with the entitled generation unable to cope with their freedoms.

Something had to be done, so the ‘millenniuum discipline contract’ was devised.

Opening up the process, embracing social media into the contract and enforcing dicipline at every became the new norm.

This is the story of one family and the discipline in their life.

Part 1 of this story will be available late December 2020 as a free story on this site. Please call back.