The Mistress Option

Mady had two girlfriends come to stay just after New Years. We had great fun dressing elliot as a maid of all work and having him serve the ladies at lunch and for cocktails and dinner. Needless to say the girls were both amazed and eventually amused as Mady and I put elliot through his paces.

His humiliation was enhanced when, each afternoon, he was required to submit to a punishment: the first day it was a good hard shower brushing because he had stared just a little too hard as Chriss - one of the girls - very ample chest. He had to lift his maid's skirt and pull down his frilly rumba panties before I gave him a lecture about respecting women and then two dozen good swats.

The next day Mady wanted to show her friends how easy it was to make a man ejaculate even when he is locked in a chastity cage. She bent him over a cane backed chair with a saucer below his imprisoned cock flipped his skirt up and pushed his remote-controlled prostate massager up his backdoor. It only took a few minutes before he was dripping ejaculate onto the saucer. And, of course, when he was drained he had to drink up his mess. The girls were mesmerized.

The last day they were with us, Mady and I thought they should have a bit of fun. First, each girl practised with a light cane on poor elliot's bruised bottom. It took a little while, and many "vocalizations" from elliot before each was able to accurately deliver her dozen strokes. "No, dear, you have to hit both cheeks otherwise you won't get the right welt pattern." Then elliot was required to thank each of the girls with his tongue before being sent to his corner. Great fun for the girls and for Mady and I. Not so much for elliot but that really doesn't matter.

I had a wonderful time as both Chriss and Amber were intelligent, pretty and polite. We had lovely dinners where the ladies dressed - which kept elliot in his role as lady's maid busy and deeply excited. All that perfect young female flesh to help groom and dress. I kept him in his little cell when he was off duty so he could think about the lovely breasts and pretty pussies he had to tend. Which meant that, after dinner we could talk very freely.

Both girls loved the idea of female dominance and both were intrigued at the idea of female led relationships and, eventually, wife led marriages. But, as Amber asked, "What do we do while we look for the right man?"

They were a bit taken aback when I said, "Have some fun, make some money, become mistresses."

"You mean like dommes?" said Chriss.

"Good Heavens, no," I said laughing. "Too risky, too boring and there is actually an upfront cost to set up a dungeon - which is what men who visit pro-dommes often expect. No, I mean mistresses in the old fashioned sense of the word. A girl kept by a wealthy older man."

"When you go to bed tonight I'll leave Miss Jay's book, Modern Mistress on your tablets," said Mady.

Which she did and both girls read the first fifty or sixty pages in bed.

The next morning we left elliot in his cell and the girls in their pretty nighties (I insist on them wearing white cotton Victorian nighties which matched Mady's) sat around the breakfast table.

"Well, girls," I said, "What did you think?"

"It all sounds great Miss Jay, but, really, in this day and age don't you think it is a little oppressive for a woman to be "kept" by a man?" said Amber...And we were off.

"Not at all," I said. "In fact, if anything, it is a huge first step towards a woman's freedom and, if she chooses, her leadership in her relationships and her marriage."

"How is sleeping with a man for money a step towards freedom?" asked Chriss. Mady smiled having heard this before.

"Chriss, the fact is that money is, in fact, power," I said settling back in my chair and sipping on a very pleasing latte. "When a man gives a woman money he is, in fact, giving her a bit of power. The opportunity to take advantage of a broader array of choices. In exchange, she gives him the pleasure of her company. Escorts have known this since pretty much forever."

"However, escorting, even at the highest end, is essentially transactional. I talk about all that in my book Avails. Lots of girls have escorted but very few of them have really understood how they can make top dollar at minimal risk," I said. "And the biggest problem with escorting is risk. Physical risk, legal risk and, frankly, moral hazard: it is very easy to become very cynical when you sleep with, to use the euphemism, even three or four men a week, much less a night. Cynical girls lose their charm very quickly which is tragic because charm lasts very much longer than youth or beauty."

"Fair enough," said Amber. "Having one man give you money for your company makes more sense but I still can't see how it is particularly liberating. You still pretty much have to sleep with the guy."

"Eventually," I said. "But not until you have made your arrangement. And that arrangement can be very liberating indeed. Have you ever been poor? I mean not knowing where your next meal is coming from poor?"

"Not really," said Amber. "My parents have a bit of money and I can always go home if stuff gets bad."

"I have," said Chriss. "It really sucks."

"And have you ever had more money than you really needed?" I asked. "Money where you could get a blowout and your nails done and buy the dress, the shoes and the bag?"

"All the same day? asked Amber.

"The same day," I replied.

Both girls shook their heads.

"I'm not surprised," I said. "Most young women, even as well educated as the two of you are, don't start earning significant money until they are in their mid-thirties and, realistically, that is usually when they really want to have kids. Soooo."

"A bit of sexual economics. Your "arm candy" years begin at about twenty and end around twenty-five or six. Now, the fact is that women are actually more beautiful in their late twenties and early thirties and if they do it right, keep becoming more interesting as they get older. But a pretty girl commands peak market price for all of six or seven years," I said. "Most girls waste those years looking for Mr. Right or chasing the entry-level jobs they think will create a payoff down the road or going to school. But, mainly, they waste the time because they can't think of what else they might be doing."

"Being kept by a wealthy older man is not a huge time commitment," I continued. "Usually an evening mid-week and, perhaps, a Saturday afternoon."

"No way," said Chriss. "That's what, maybe eight hours a week?"

"At most, dear, at most," I said.

"And you get your rent covered, pretty clothes, spa days," said Amber.

"If you negotiate well, that and lots more," I said. "Remember, the sort of man who keeps a mistress is taking home serious money. He is probably billing out his time at $500+ an hour or running a company or fixing people's teeth. A couple of thousand a month is nothing, 10K and you are beginning to be a noticeable expense. Keep reading Modern Mistress, some of the girls I talked to have really luxurious lives and they tuck money away every month."

"I flipped forward, Miss Jay, and you're right. The girls do make fabulous money sometimes," said Amber. "But how does that make me "free" if I have to put up with some guy old enough, as the saying goes, to be my father being able to have me whenever he wants?"

"Amber, you need to read the whole thing and a few of my extended interviews as well," I said. "No mistress gives her patron unlimited access. That's for escorts, sugar babies and side pieces: a mistress is none of those things nor would a suitable patron ever expect such a thing. And, truth to tell, ladies, past a certain age, most men are simply not that interested in 24/7 sex. They will be delighted to see their mistress once or twice a week."

"OK, but how does even that make me "free"?" asked Amber.

"It makes you better than "free"; it gives you actual power," I said. "Earning an allowance and treats by being a beautiful, intelligent, interested woman lets you do what you want with the rest of your time. Finish a degree, learn to trade stocks, master the PR game but with the sure knowledge that you are not going to miss a meal or be short on rent. Instead of being a "starving student" or an "unpaid intern" struggling to get by with a side gig, a mistress has the luxury of her own time to do what she wants."

"But that depends on a man," said Chriss.

"It does," I replied. "Here's a hint ladies...men want us to depend on them and when we do we take control. As a mistress, you have control of a part of a man's life, as a wife you have the whole thing."

Which I left them with as I had things to do but later that afternoon Amber and Chriss came into my sitting room.

"Miss Jay, do you have a few minutes?" asked Amber.

"Of course...more questions?"

"A few," said Chriss. "We've been reading and talking and, well, ok. How is it fair that to gain any power, girls have to sleep with men who..."

"Stop right there Chriss. Girls always have huge potential power," I said. "The question is will they use it? And if they use it will they use it with any sort of strategy."

"A million years ago I would put on a pretty dress and a nice pair of heels, walk a couple of blocks to a well known steakhouse and, in no more than twenty minutes, be bought a drink or two and, if the gentleman seemed interesting, a very good steak and a bottle of wine. Yes, there were "expectations" but, no, I never felt the slightest obligation. If I was on heat I might well have taken the gentleman home, but not always. And never if I didn't want to. That, of course, was purely tactical. A near term objective as it were. But, and here is the thing, there was an older gentleman who noticed me. He could easily have bought the steakhouse with pocket change. He certainly bought a lot of girls dinner and there was no messing about. Take the dinner you went home with the man. He invited me several times and I declined. He was my first patron."

"Played hard to get," said Amber giggling.

"Not at all. Just hard to get for him. Because I wanted him."

"How could you tell?" asked Chriss.

"When elliot is out of uniform, take a look at his watch. It is one of several but it is my favourite because I gave it to him. It is not a show off's watch, white gold, no diamonds, a Patek Philippe Calatrava. My first patron wore a very similar watch but in 18k gold," I said. "Then shoes, then suit. Now, to be fair, this was when successful men dressed. Now it may be a matter of recognizing a good sweater or the right phone, but the point is the same. Men who have done well have a look. To find them you go to the places they like to go, a couple of bars, a couple of steakhouses, certain sorts of events."

"And you're saying we should not be cynical," said Chriss.

"What's cynical about wanting a very good man who can afford to keep you?" I said. "In fact, for a small, select, minority of women spending a few years as a mistress allows them to reach their full potential. Plus, for a small, select, minority of men, keeping a mistress acknowledges their own proper position as subservient to at least one woman. Even if the acknowledgement is only tacit."

"Really? said Chriss. "I am not sure how being serviced once a week by a girl young enough to be your daughter is exactly subservient."

"Because you are not seeing the whole picture," I said smiling. "First off, he is being "serviced" by a girl who is receiving a significant allowance, is likely living in a nice apartment with good furniture rent free and who, if she has negotiated cleverly, will have a wardrobe and grooming allowance. Second, a mistress, by her nature and position is "in charge" of the time her patron spends with her. She sets the rules, she decides if she will have sex and what sort of sex she'll have. A good mistress is demanding. Her patron has to satisfy her. Which is what keeps him coming back."

"That never seems to be the way it works in my relationships," said Amber.

"Of course not," I said. "You are likely dating and sleeping with boys your own age using the currency of lust and love. Which is wonderful at your age but, frankly, a bit of a waste of your time. I gather neither of you are rushing to find a husband right now."

Both girls shook their head. "Way too soon."

"So, if you decided to take the mistress option one big change you'd make is to move away from the boy/girl sex world of high school. For a mistress, sex and pleasure are part of a fantasy which her patron is buying," I said. "While patrons often think they want their mistress for sex, a clever mistress offers much more than that."

"At the same time, a mistress knows that the best sex a man is ever likely to have is with an enthusiastic, uninhibited, young woman who actually takes charge in the bedroom," I said. "And, of course, that carries right through to a female-led relationship or marriage. For a variety of reasons, even now, men think they have to take the sexual initiative. There is no good reason for that, but there it is. A smart mistress will take matters in hand as it were."

"But why would a man want that?" asked Chriss.

"Two reasons, first the sheer novelty of a pretty young girl having her wicked way with him, second, and more importantly, men take mistresses for the luxury of real relaxation. Most men who can afford a mistress are insanely busy and are making decisions all day," I said. "Knowing that for a few hours a couple of times a week there are no decisions, no real choices, is really what a patron ends up valuing most in his mistress."

"You make that sound so easy, Miss Jay," said Amber. "But, at the end of the day, a patron is still going to want to have sex."

"Indeed. Or at least that's what he thinks he wants," I said. "Men are not very subtle and they are not very good at actually knowing or articulating what they want. In fact, most men want to be listened to, teased a little, seduced and know that, if they do what they are told, the evening will end happily. For a mistress an evening will be about comfort food, a moderate amount of good wine, a sexy - but not slutty - outfit, flowers, candles and enthusiasm. A few evenings like that and a patron will wonder how he ever lived without his mistress."

"The other great benefit of being a mistress, besides the money and the freedom that money brings, is that a girl learns how to manage, take charge of a man," I said. "If I had not been a mistress there is no way I would have been able to give my darling elliot what he so desperately needed. The experience of having a non-romantic, sexual relationship with a strong, successful, man is something every girl should have. But very few girls will because they are content to drift along in peer relationships."

"OK, so let's say I wanted to try being a mistress," said Amber. "Where would I find this wonderful, wealthy, patron?"

"Well, if both of you were looking..."

"We might be," said Chriss.

"Then you'll have a great advantage. One pretty girl is not entirely safe, two and you can take care of each other," I said. "Unfortunately, the nicest way, which is to be introduced by an older lady such as myself, is not really available as I am very much a homebody. However, there is a simple rule: go where the fish are. In the little city you both live in there are, in no particular order, car shows, boat shows, gallery openings, at least one excellent book store and, as I recall, a couple of fairly high end restaurants. It is not difficult to get on the PR lists for openings. And there is nothing at all wrong with a bit of discrete advertising. And don't worry too much about age, there are plenty of men in their late thirties who would love to take a mistress if they had any clue what that was."

Amber looked a bit troubled. "Miss Jay, one thing bothers me about this. A lot of these prospective patrons are married."

"Ideally," I said. "It makes everything much simpler."

"But isn't that cheating?" asked Amber.

"It is. A mistress, however, is a realist. The fact is that men of a certain age and success often cheat. Often with disastrous consequences. A powerful man is surrounded by temptation - personal assistants, work colleagues, vendors, professionals, girls at conferences - the list is endless and involvement with any of them can lead to sexual harassment claims, long hours with the HR department and, of course, the girl falling in love with the man with all that can lead to including a very expensive divorce."

"A smart wife wants to limit her exposure to any of these consequences," I said. "Now most wives will not be lucky enough to have a Mady but, in a sense, they should welcome a young woman who has no long term designs on their husband. Most men are very discrete about their mistresses but women have a sixth sense when it comes to another woman and this poses an intelligence test. If a wife finds out about a mistress what does she do?"

"So, I will tell you one story and then I have to get on with the day. When I was about your age and was being kept by what was known as a "lumber baron", sweet man, I got a call one afternoon from his wife. She introduced herself on the phone as Mrs. X, Ken X's wife and asked if might meet for lunch the following day.

I agreed, what else could I do, and having dressed carefully, went to a very pleasant little restaurant where the maitre d' escorted me to a table where a wonderfully attractive woman of a certain age rose to greet me.

"So you're Hannah. Turn," she said making a little gesture with a perfectly manicured hand. "Oh you are just perfect. Me, thirty years ago. What a pretty dress. Sit down."

"I suppose you wonder how I know about you," said Mrs. X. "Ken has always talked in his sleep. For the last few weeks he has been saying lovely things about a girl named Hannah and two nights ago he actually said, "Time to play with Hannah Jay."

"No..."

"Oh yes. It was perfect, just like Ken." said Mrs. X.

"You seem very relaxed about all this," I said to her.

"Of course, my dear. Ken has worked hard, cut down a lot of trees and treated me and the children beautifully. We are very dear friends, more than a little in love but he's at that age where he realizes the road ahead is shorter than the one behind. That bothers men. A lot. I was worried that you might be a secretary or something but a quick look at the account Ken doesn't think I know about told the story. You're his mistress! Which is wonderful but I thought we should meet. And you should call me Jean."

Quite honestly this was the last thing I expected. I was prepared to be called a hussy and a lot worse. Or for a tearful, "Please don't take my man" scene. But this was extraordinary.

"I'm delighted you approve," I said.

"Approve? My only regret is that I didn't think of the solution myself. You've put a bounce in Ken's step and he's taking things a day at a time rather than brooding over what he is going to do in retirement. But you mustn't tell him," said Jean.

"Tell him what?"

"That I know," said Jean. "I think half the fun of having a mistress is in the sneaking around, the stolen hours. Men love that sort of thing and it would take a lot of the fun out of it if Ken knew I knew and approved."

I laughed out loud. "You know him very well."

"I do," said Jean. "Being married to someone for thirty years has that effect."

"And you really don't mind?"

"Not at all. You are pretty, and nicely built if I may say so, obviously intelligent and on the payroll. Quite seriously, my great worry was that Ken would find some young girl who would think she was in love with him. That can get very messy for everyone," said Jean. "Looking at Ken's account, you are a very practical young woman."

"I've had to be," I said.

"True for most young girls," said Jean. "Now you can have a bit of fun and, if you can keep Ken interested, earn a tidy little nest egg. Something you should know is that Ken absolutely loves giving people presents. Just out of the blue."

"I've noticed that already. Very thoughtful things like a perfect hairbrush and practical things like a dozen pairs of fully fashioned stockings."

"You wear stockings! No wonder Ken enjoys you. I've always worn stockings because Ken loves them but the young girls today, if they wear hose at all, wear those awful pantihose. For a big, rough, lumberjack, Ken is actually quite smart about pretty lingerie and fine leather goods, gloves, shoes, purses, I have a closet full of really beautiful bags he picked out. In fact, maybe that is why he's taken a mistress, I already have everything I want or need."

We had a very good lunch, a bottle of good wine and a nice hug, "Take care of Ken, Hannah. He is a wonderful guy."

"It would make a better story if Jean and I had lunched monthly but we didn't. Ken kept me for a little over two years when I moved to another city," I said. "I missed him for years."

"No wonder you are such a fan of mistresshood," said Amber. "That sounds perfect."

"It was. And, interestingly, it was as a twenty-something mistress that I learned a key fact about successful, wealthy, men; more often than not they need a place in their lives where they are not under stress, don't have to make decisions, can simply do what they are told," I said. "Ken would never have thought of himself as submissive but when he came to my apartment I was completely in charge. And that grew over time. Especially as I found myself enjoying being in charge."

"About twenty years ago, elliot and I were at a party and we ran into Ken and Jean. It was one of those moments which could have gone either way but Ken marched over and said, "Hannah, you must introduce me to your husband". I did and he introduced me to his wife and not another word was said. We were simply old friends who had not seen each other for years. But I did notice that Ken watched how I led, subtly, elliot even in a completely social situation. At the end of the evening, he came back over. "You're a very lucky man, Elliot," was all he said.

Getting Started with a Female Led Relationship

I hope you all had a wonderful Holiday Season. We certainly did. I gave elliot two books he has been looking for for years and Mady and I let him out of his chastity cage on Christmas Eve. I'd upped his dose of Viagra a little and his not terrifically large cock was just perfect after he had spent quite a long time licking me. I didn't let him come in me and Mady had her fun with his very hard cock. She is such a naughty girl and she looked lovely as she climbed on top of elliot for Christmas treats. Again, I didn't let elliot cum in Mady either. Instead we put him in a locking long legged panti-girdle and sent him to bed. Christmas morning dawned and when Mady came in with my coffee I had her unlock poor elliot and give him a bit of a tease before his shower.

After his shower I had Mady handcuff him and then push a wonderful, remote controlled vibrator into his bottom. Then she put the girdle back on and elliot spent Christmas Day on edge. It was such fun watching the expression on his face when we flipped on the vibe. But we didn't push him over the edge. Mady had told me that she really wanted to give him a blow job as part of his Christmas and, after dinner we went to his den, handcuffed him again and Mady got to work. elliot could not believe his luck when it became evident she was going to suck him to completion. What fun!

All of which brings me to a lovely note I received from a young wife in a leafy suburb of a city in the Southern United States named Kendra,

---

Dear Miss Jay,

I wanted to thank you for your wonderful website and your fantastic books. When I was a little younger I read your Modern Mistress: Lead the Luxury Life You Deserve and was kept for a few years beginning in my last year in college. What fun and what nice men.

However, we all have to grow up sometime and for me that meant getting married and, eventually, having kids. Very normal. Having been a mistress I have to say gave me a slightly different perspective on men than my girlfriends had. They are all sweet and still my friends now, but they all see men like they were still in high school. Essentially, they all sort of hung back hoping that Mr. Right would, somehow, pop into their lives. Sadly, men did pop into their lives. Very unsuitable men.

I approached the whole thing very differently. I wanted a good man, a little older than I am, reasonably successful with great prospects and, most importantly, willing to follow my lead. From my experience as a mistress I realized that I liked being in charge. And, as a mistress, part of my vocation was spending time researching some of the sexual byways my patrons seemed to be interested in. One of the things I noticed was that all of my patrons, and I only had three, liked to be told what to do. In bed, but also in my apartment and even when we were out for dinner or shopping.

It was a very specific thing. I could ask them to do something and they might or might not do it, but if I told them to do something they practically purred. Now, these were very successful men, I was an expensive luxury, and they spent their days making decisions and telling other people what to do. As you have written on this blog and in your books, men need time out from always having to make decisions. A mistress gives them that time out. But a wife?

Maybe. But first I had to find the right guy. I am not one for hanging back. While I was a mistress I worked in corporate communications for a public relations firm. I accumulated a well edited  wardrobe and a reputation for being "that girl who is always wearing dresses". In fact, most of the time I wore really well-tailored suits but always with skirts. I never wore pant suits. Attractive, often pretty, but also very self-possessed. I never looked like I was trying too hard.

Part of my job was going to assorted networking events. Pretty basic where everyone is being "social" while looking out for new clients. I did at least one of these a week and enjoyed them. I am fairly tall and I have quite a nice figure - I walk a lot and swim for an hour twice a week - and with the right bra...well, I get my share of attention. The more obvious come ons I ignored but there were plenty of nice men who could hold a conversation. Usually, under the pretext of business, it was not at all difficult to arrange to meet a few days out and that is what I did.

Yes, this was calculating. But you get what you want by going after it. I must have had coffee with twenty five or so men and then drinks with half a dozen. Oddly enough, the coffees brought me in another half dozen potential clients so, even if I didn't find a husband, I was ahead of the game. Coffee was business attire, drinks I would up my game a bit. From my mistress days I had three or four "little black dresses" each of which was a tiny bit revealing in a subtle way. I have nice legs so a short skirt is never a bad choice. At the same time I have rather pretty clavicles and why not show them off in a longer but off the shoulder dress? My rule for drinks was two glasses of wine and then, no matter how well it was going, off I went.

It did not take long, a couple of months, to find several men who I enjoyed and who enjoyed me. I was in no hurry but I was also not going to waste a lot of time. Unfortunately, these days, the sorts of serious, successful men I was looking for took sex as a given once you got to a couple of dinner dates. I am, obviously, no enemy of sex; but I also am well aware that there is huge value in sex and that it should not be squandered. It was also an opportunity to see how various men responded to the idea that they would do what they were told.

I still had my very elegant, slightly "mistressy" apartment. The mistressy element was in the expensive, minimalist and quite masculine furniture. In one of your mistress books, Zoey's First Night I think a girl says "I want to be the most feminine thing in my apartment". Very much how I decorated.

I took all of three men back to my apartment. The first, well the first was a mistake. He made the assumption that if I was inviting him back after dinner I was going to be dessert. Er, no. He lasted about five minutes before I bundled him out the door. The other two were sweet. My basic test was to see if they would do as they were told without any quid pro quo.

I would pour us each a glass of wine, sit, in a rather brilliant black leather club chair and, when everyone was settled down, say, "Now, dear man, are you comfortable? Ready to please me?" They would usually nod. "Excellent, we'll get started. Stand up. Turn. Now back around. Good."

Both the boys were with me to this point but now it would get interesting.

"I want to see you naked," I said. "So just stand where you are and take off your clothes. All of them."

One man said, "Really?" and the other said "What?", I said "Yes".

One of the men, Matt, began to undress as soon as I said "Yes", the other, whose name I forget, wanted to talk about it. I said goodnight.

I married Matt. And not just because, when I lifted my skirt, pulled down my panties and said, "Get to work," he was very eager and very good, really because he did what he was told without a moment's protest. Matt was good enough at pussy licking that I was tempted to let him have his own orgasm. But I knew I had to start as I meant to finish. When I was done I pulled up my panties, let down my skirt and moved to the couch. I motioned Matt over and had him lie with his head in my lap.

"We are going to be going on several dates," I said gently sliding my long nails across his nipple. "I am going to be testing you, teasing you. Starting right now you will not cum without my permission and supervision. Do you understand?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"You have a very nice cock, Matt," I said. "From now on it is my cock. We'll see how you behave and, if you are a good boy, we might even let that cock have a bit of fun. But, for the moment, I want you to get dressed, give me a kiss and leave. I'll call you when I want to see you again."

"Yes Ma'am."

From that day 'til this that is exactly how I have trained Matt. I do have a paddle - a rather nice bamboo paddle I had Matt order me for a wedding gift - and a couple of rattan canes I gave us for our first anniversary. But, honestly, I really don't use them on Matt very often. He is naturally very obedient. I have looked at a chastity cage for him but I am not there yet.

I took Matt on our wedding night having only given him hand jobs to that point over our six month engagement. Three to be exact. But he knew that if I invited him to my apartment he would spend a good deal of his time under my skirt. Which he loved.

My girlfriends can't quite figure out how I manage to have a happy, very successful, husband who is so attentive and helpful. I will often have a couple of girlfriends over and Matt makes the snacks and serves them in a wonderfully 50's housewife sort of a way.

At home he always wears loose wrap tops - Kimono shirts they are called - and kimono capri pants and Japanese sandals. It is a perfectly androgynous look and my girlfriends joke about my not having a husband so much as a houseboy. Matt knows that I expect him to come home from work and put on his house clothes and be ready to greet me when I get back from work. I have a slightly longer commute so this works well. He's responsible for having something nice to go with a much needed after work glass of wine. We usually cook together but he is responsible for clean-up while I enjoy a few minutes of down time. Once he has done the clean up he may have some laundry or vacuuming to do. I made it very clear during our courtship that those sorts of household chores were his responsibility.

When he is done I might invite him to curl up on the couch with me to watch Netflix for a while but, right at ten, I send him to get changed for bed. I like him to wear one of his many sets of Kimono pajamas. These are nice because if I want to have him I can just tell him to wiggle out of the trousers. I come upstairs when I am ready.

I suspect that one of the reasons I am hesitant about putting a cage on Matt is that I enjoy playing with him and, once in a while, taking him. I am always on top. In two years of marriage Matt has never once taken the top position when we make love. And I have made it very clear that just because I have decided to have him he does not have permission to cum. That's a special treat. He also knows that if he somehow can't control himself our bedroom cane will remind him who is in charge. He's only lost control four or five times but a really sound caning each time has made those slips very rare.

Matt loves all this. So do I. He's told me over and over how lucky he was that I chose him. I think so too.

Kisses,

Kendra

----

Dear Kendra (I wrote back),

What a lovely story. I love the fact you've figured out a house uniform for your husband. Too clever.

But what I really like is that you made a decision about the sort of man you wanted to marry and got to work finding him. All too often young women settle for what they think is available when, with a little effort, they can find a suitable man who will be only too delighted to honour and obey.

I understand your view on chastity cages. I had the same view for years. But, at a certain point, caging a man is a kindness. Self-restraint is a great thing but the poor dears are remarkably penis driven. By locking a man up you are removing temptation.

Enjoy your marriage and keep me posted,

Enjoy!

Hannah

Outsourcing

Yesterday's post about a Dominant Mistress sparked a wonderful letter from Nancy who writes from a small city in the South Eastern United States,

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Dear Miss Jay,

A few years ago my husband Kyle confessed to me that he would like me to take the leadership of our marriage. It was quite an adjustment and reading your blog and elliot's books about your female led relationship has been very helpful.

It was not easy but it seemed to make him happy. I keep him chaste and in a chastity device most of the time. I prefer the metal to the silicone but have both. But the fact is that I was and am very uncomfortable other elements of female-led marriage, especially disciplining Kyle. And he certain needs and, frankly, craves discipline.

I took your advice and got a long-handled wooden shower brush which I have used occasionally. But it was obvious that I just couldn't really swing it hard enough. I mean I could, but I love Kyle too much to seriously cause him the sort of pain he seemed to need. And there were other things he wanted which I just can't imagine. Being pegged was one thing and taking an enema was another and, well, he kept begging me to pee on him. I know it took a lot of courage just to ask but I just couldn't do any of that sort of thing. It all left us both very frustrated.

Of course, in my little city, while I have lots of friends, we are all gracious southern ladies who really don't speak about bedroom matters. I kept trying to do what Kyle needed but I just couldn't. Finally, not knowing where to turn, I mentioned I was having problems with Kyle to my doctor. She is much more worldly than I am and asked a few questions and then said, "I think I may have a solution. Leave it with me for a few days."

A few days later my phone rang and a rather pretty voice said, "Mrs. x, my name is Fiona. I'm a nurse and Dr. y suggested I might be of assistance with your husband. I thought we might meet and discuss what you need and what your husband requires."

We quickly agreed to meet for tea at one of the nicer hotels in town and the next day I dressed carefully and had a little notebook in my handbag. Fiona had asked me to make a list of what I would want for Kyle and what Kyle needed. I had that list.

Fiona had told me she was quite petite and had jet black hair. The lovely girl who was wearing a pleated white, calf-length dress and a clever, muted pink tweed Chanel jacket who sat down across from me had not said she was beautiful. But she was. She held out her hand.

"I'm Fiona, Nancy," she said. "Let's order tea and we'll figure out how I might help."

We had a wonderful, funny, conversation. She was, in fact, a nurse but she only worked three nights a week at one of our hospitals on the acute care ward.

"The rest of my time is my own," she said. "Which means I am able to accommodate situations such as yours. You would be surprised at how many of the nice ladies we are taking tea with have these sorts of problems."

Fiona ran her "practice" from a lovely little cottage - she had pictures on her phone - on an estate just outside town. "It's very private and a little isolated. And I have all the facilities you need for this sort of work. Did you make your list?"

I handed it to her.

"Very straightforward," she said. "I am happy to be Kyle's disciplinarian and the other items on the list will simply be worked in as needed. Will he be ejaculating?"

I was very reassured by her very professional tone. "I don't think so unless you think it would be helpful."

"Quite the opposite, ma'am. Is he in chastity?"

"Usually."

"Well always send him locked to me and the question will not come up. Although, as you indicated that pegging was on the agenda, he will certainly have an intromission as that is how I tell when a pegging is complete."

We sipped our tea and went into some detail about Kyle's submissive fantasies. Fiona was very funny but also very professional.

"Men are remarkably silly. I think because, unlike women, they never really have to grow up," she said. "Which suits me as it provides a delightful cash income without the slightest risk. And most of my clients are, in fact, wives who know what their husbands want but who are simply not willing to provide it. I am more than willing."

"Do you want me to do maintenance?" she asked.

"Maintenance?" I asked right back.

"Yes, some female led couples find that a good spanking or caning once a week reminds a man of his position. I have three clients whose husbands I see weekly," she said.

"I'll have to think about that. Do you think it works?" I asked.

"Very much depends on the husband," said Fiona. "It sounds to me as if your husband is pretty obedient right now. I'd suggest leaving maintenance alone for the moment. You can always change your mind. And, once you are comfortable with the fact that I will be doing the serious corrections, you might do maintenance yourself."

"That's a thought," I said thinking about my shower brush.

"Now, when I am disciplining a husband I usually wear a wonderfully old fashioned nurse's uniform. With the cap and the pinned on watch. I have several. It keeps the interaction clinical and professional," said Fiona. "It also means that a wife can easily say, "You are going to see Nurse if you keep that up" and the husband will know exactly what to expect."

Fiona was expensive, "I prefer to be on a monthly retainer against which I will charge for the time spent and carry the balance forward. There are no "extras" and I take the time required for a full and thorough correction. You can send Kyle as often as needed. The only thing I need is a note from you indicating the level of correction, from 1-5, required. 1 is pretty mild. In Kyle's case likely a paddling and an enema. At 3 there will be marks and possibly some bruising. A 5 is pretty severe and you should reserve it for occasions where he really needs punishment."

Fiona finished her tea. I gave her an envelope with her first month's fee in cash. She stood up and held out her hand. "This will be the last time I meet you. Your husband is in good hands," she said. "After each appointment, when your husband is doing his corner time, I will fill out a short report which he will take home to you."

Now, I have gone on far too long but, the next week, Kyle was more than a little rude to me and I looked him straight in the eye and said, "That's enough. You are going to see Nurse." Of course he had no idea what I was talking about but I sent Fiona a text and set an appointment for that evening. As she requested, I wrote a short note explaining the nature of the offence and wrote a number, 2, if memory serves.

I called Kyle into my sewing room. "Kyle, deliver this note to the lady who lives at this address and do exactly what you are told. Your appointment is at eight. Shower first."

He looked pretty worried but obeyed and was soon off to meet Nurse.

Two hours later he was home.

"Strip," I said wanting to inspect Fiona's work. Silently Kyle took off his clothes. "Corner."

As he walked to his corner I looked at his perfectly welted bottom. Then I opened Fiona's report.

It was succinct. "Caning, 24 medium strokes with light cane;  enema, 2 quarts, 10 minute retention, some cramping; small anal plug, one hour after golden shower in dog cage. Husband responsive to commands, well trained. Kyle accepted his correction and does not plan to be rude again. I explained my service and told Kyle that I was acting as your proxy to provide necessary and strict discipline. signed Nurse Fiona.

"OK Kyle, you can go and put your robe on," I said. "Then come back and tell me all about your visit with Nurse."

"Yes, ma'am."

I fetched some wine and lighted a couple of candles on our coffee table. Kyle came in and I motioned him over to the couch.

"So, how did you like Nurse Fiona?" I asked.

"Wow. Where did you find her?" replied Kyle.

"Through a friend," I said.

"Darling," said Kyle getting on his knees. "First off I have to apologize for being rude. And I have to thank you for making the effort to find someone to correct me."

"Well don't do it again. Now get up and tell," I said.

Kyle sat back down on the couch, a bit gingerly.

"Okay, but I am still sort of processing it all. I had a hard time finding Nurse's cottage but, eventually, I found the turn off and drove down a narrow country road for a quarter mile until I saw a nice little bungalow with its outside lights on. I parked, got out the car and knocked on the wide wood door. I heard heels clicking and the door opened and there was Nurse. She's tiny and in full nurse's uniform. I handed her your note.

"Stay here," she said. She closed the door with me outside while she read it. The door re-opened and she said into a phone which was recording, "I am Nurse Fiona. Your wife has sent you here for correction and punishment. When you step across my threshold you have agreed to do exactly as you are told and accept whatever corrections, punishments or orders I give. Your wife requires that you do as I tell you. Do you agree?"

"Yes, Nurse," I said.

"Then, come in," said Nurse putting down her phone. "Follow me."

She led me to a set of stairs which obviously went to the basement. "Down."

I noticed that she had a water bottle and was wearing what looked like a 1940's nurse's uniform.

"Undress."

I did as I was told.

"What a nice chastity cage. Your wife had very good taste. Now go and kneel on that bench."

I went over to a very simple bench which was well padded and had restraints for my wrists and ankles as well as a belt which went around my thighs and another which held my waist very securely. Nurse said nothing as she buckled me in and tightened the belts. I was immobilized. When she was done Nurse sat on a stool directly in front of me.

"Now Kyle, your wife has sent you to be punished for your rudeness. She has indicated in her note that you are to have a level 2 punishment out of a possible 5 levels. Open your mouth."

I did and a thick, penis shaped gag, was put in place. I heard the click of a padlock.

"Now a little ginger," said Nurse moving behind me. I felt something push into my backdoor.

"Ginger root works differently with different people. We'll leave it to get started for ten minutes and then you'll get your caning. If you clench your bottom the sting will intensify. After your caning and one or two more punishments, you'll be getting an enema which will, I suspect, reduce the sting before we put in your bottom plug," said Nurse. Then I heard her go back upstairs and I could hear her television come on.

The ginger began to sting. Not unbearable but irritating. The minutes went by slowly and the sting increased. And if I squirmed I would get a dose of ginger juice which upped the discomfort. By the time I heard Nurse's heels clicking down the stairs it was really becoming difficult. I was sweating.

"Enjoying your little fig aren't you Kyle," she said. "It will get a lot more intense as I whip you. A level two caning is 24 strokes. It is a simple system. Level 1 is 12, 2 is 24, 3 is 48 and so on. But I am using a relatively light cane today. If this was level 3 I would use a medium weight cane and at level 5 I use a heavy cane. For nearly 200 strokes. You'll want to avoid that."

Without a moment's warning I could hear the cane whistle through the air and crack on my bottom.

"At level 2 I do not cross my strokes, but at level 3 I switch sides and your bottom looks like a nasty tic tac toe board. I really would not clench my bottom in your position, the ginger will hurt more than the cane," said Nurse. "And last longer. Only a few more to go."

"Darling, please, never go past level 2," said Kyle. "I was crying after a dozen strokes and Nurse didn't care. I would have been screaming but the gag silenced me. And I couldn't help clenching my bottom so the ginger was leaking agony in my bottom."

Nurse was relentless. I swear she timed the strokes so that every ten seconds a new wave of pain hit. But I was counting the strokes and, at last, we'd hit twenty four.

"As this is your first time you will only have six bonus strokes. Normally there are at least a dozen. And they are always cross hatched," said Nurse switching sides. "I have a little less control with my backhand so this might pinch."

Pinch! Dear Lord. Each stroke connected to at least five of my original welts which actually cut the skin a little. I know because Nurse cleaned me up afterwards. The ginger was excruciating. But nothing compared to the cane. Or so I thought.

"There you go, done. I'll just leave you there for ten minutes to let you catch your breath. You did very well but, well, you don't have much choice do you," said Nurse. I could hear her heels going back upstairs. Now the ginger was competing with my blazing bottom's agony. I honestly hoped I'd pass out but no chance of that and, truth to tell, the endorphins had clicked in and while everything hurt I was well past caring. I closed my eyes and embraced the pain knowing it was for you.

Nurse came back.

"We'll just put on this blindfold and then we can give you a nice shower," said Nurse. "I have always wanted a rotatable bench so my naughty boys could look up but, well, they can't look because I am not that sort of girl, so this does fine."

I began to feel the warmness of her pee as she soaked my head and then my arms and shoulders. It was almost hot. I couldn't see a thing but I could smell her pussy scent and the urine as it hit me. It went on for a long time and I realized why there was a drain in the floor. Finally, Nurse was done and I had had my first Golden Shower. The ginger was agonizing and I was praying that Nurse would finally pop it out. No go.

"We'll just let you enjoy that for a little while," said Nurse. And I heard her going back up stairs.

Nancy, I cannot tell you how much the ginger stung. It was like having a million hornets up my bum. She just left me there. I could hear the TV and the show was, at last, ending. But she didn't come back down. I don't really know how long I was there until, finally, I heard her coming back. I felt her pull the ginger out of my ass but that was no relief.

"So Kyle, I expect you will never be rude to your wife again," said Nurse.

I couldn't respond other than nodding as the gag was still in.

"Time to clean out that nasty ginger juice," said Nurse putting on a pair of gloves. "Two quarts of nice, warm soapy water up your bottom and all the way into your colon will help a lot."

I felt her push some sort of lubricant in and then a quite thick thing which went in a long way. It hurt but not nearly as much as the ginger. Then a gush of warmth and the stinging died away. I began to feel full and then she attached a second bag and I began to feel cramps. Small at first but they increased in intensity.

"You'll cramp a bit, just relax. You only have to hold this for ten minutes," said Nurse.

Those were ten long minutes during which Nurse undid all but my wrist restraints and put something on my bottom.

"Your wife will be pleased. You'll have welts for a week," said Nurse.

The cramping was getting worse and I desperately needed to get to a washroom. Nurse looked at her watch.

"OK, keep holding. I will release your wrists and then you will be able to go to the washroom. I'll be waiting."

Relief. Darling, I totally understand why you never gave me an enema. But it felt so good to release. Amazing really. I came out of the washroom to see Nurse standing beside a dog cage with a fairly large butt plug in her gloved hands.

"We'll just slip this in and lock you up in your cage for a while so you can think about how grateful you are to Nancy for arranging all this. When I come back I will let you out, you will get dressed and come upstairs. I will take out your gag and you, without saying a word, will go home to your loving wife and the head of your household," said Nurse.

About half an hour in the dog cage later that is exactly what happened.

"Thank you Darling," said my dear husband.

"You've learned your lesson?" I asked.

"Oh yes."

"And that what you've wanted me to do?" I asked, curious.

"I don't know.  I can't imagine you being that intense."

"But that is what you have needed, isn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am," said my darling husband.

"Then that is what you'll have. Now go and shower and go to bed. I'll be up in a little while."

Which is how we started with Nurse Fiona. I make sure her retainer is paid up to date and Kyle is sent over a couple of times a month if he is naughty. Which he often is. We've never gone beyond level 2 and I suspect we never will. But Kyle never knows what is in the envelope. But he does know that Nurse Fiona will follow my instructions to the letter.

I just have to say "Three" for a complete attitude change.

It's perfect.

Yours,

Nancy

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I wrote back,

Dear Nancy,

Thank you so much for sharing this.

Ginger is a nasty thing and darling elliot has been figged more than occasionally.

Nurse Fiona sounds like a treasure and how clever of your doctor to find a solution.

For some women, the very idea of punishing their husbands, no matter how much their husbands want to be corrected, is impossible. Outsourcing is a great idea.

The difficulty is finding a woman like Nurse Fiona. They are out there but all too often wives turn to professional dominatrixs who don't quite "get it". Nurse Fiona obviously does and both you and Kyle are very, very lucky to have found her.

Enjoy!

Hannah

A bit of Tinkering and a mid summer correction

I just love how men insist on improving things. Now you would think that a silicone cock cage  would offer little in the way of chances for improvement. Not elliot.

While he has been enjoying his summer freedom - I let him out around June 1st and lock him back down on Labour Day - he has been thinking about how to actually reduce the "play" in the two posts on either side of the lock. I suspect these are designed with men with substantially larger cocks than my elliot's in mind but for him the various pieces of his chastity would gap and then, painfully, pinch some very tender skin. I don't keep elliot in chastity for his discomfort, although elliot being a little uncomfortable does not worry me at all, so when he asked permission to modify his cage I agreed.

It was hardly a major change: he removed the plastic side pegs and replaced them with one inch stove bolts with washers and nuts. This allows him to tighten the silicone pieces and eliminate the gapping.

Good for him and nicely timed. He was getting a bit, if you will excuse the word, cocky, and there is only one sure fire cure for that. First I gave him a good whipping. The heel stick raised lovely welts. I had Mady observe his punishment and listen as I lectured him.

"It is not enough that you are polite to me. You need to be humble and you need to remember your place." I said punctuating my sentences with a stroke of the heel stick. "The fact is you have been a bit too cocksure. I let you out of your cock cage for your comfort. I don't expect backchat. I don't expect you to look at pretty young girls at the beach. You keep your eyes down. Do you understand."

"Yes, Miss," he said.

I went on in this vein for a few minutes with each period emphasized with a stroke. I think he got the message.

"Now, before you go to your corner, turn around," I said. "Your cock is going back in its cage until I see a real improvement in your attitude. Now stuff it in. Hurry up."

The modifications to the silicone cage meant that elliot had to fiddle a bit more but his cock was so tiny after his whipping that everything went quite quickly.

"Mady, why don't you lock down elliot's tiny little cock," I said. "You can hold on to the key. We'll see if he improves."

Mady slipped the lock on and shut it.

"I expect you to behave, elliot," I said when he was locked and I had slipped off my rather moist panties (I often find myself getting a bit excited when I correct elliot or Mady) and sent elliot to his corner.

"Mady," I said sitting down and lifting my skirt. "I seem to need some oral attention."

"Yes, Miss."

Mady got on her knees and began licking my pussy. Girls just know.

Should be a fun summer.

A Female Led Relationship: Is an FLR Normal

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Dominant Wife Vacation

I got the most amusing letter a few days ago and, with the writer's permission, thought I would share it with you,

Dear Hannah,

I very much enjoy how you cover all aspects of the female led relationship world. I have been head of our household pretty much since the beginning of our marriage. Most of the time we keep everything low key. I agree with you that a man is much better off in a chastity device and I locked up Tim's rather large cock years ago. And I do agree that sparing the rod (in our case, paddle) spoils the husband.

I liked your idea of putting your husband in a playsuit to do his chores. Tim is lovely and slim so he actually looks quite pretty in a nice, loose fitting, off the shoulder playsuit.

However, most of the time, unless you really knew what you were looking for, you would not see us as very different from any other married couple. Which is just how I like it.

However, a couple of times a year, on our anniversary and on my birthday, I like to kick it all up several notches. So, apparently, does Tim. Or at least he has not complained.

I like to go away. Not terribly far. Usually to a larger city somewhere where we know no one. We used to stay in hotels but now we try to find a nice AirBnB. In fact, if you look around, there are actually "kink friendly" B&B's.

There are three elements to our "vacations".

First, Tim is forced to dress en femme from the time we arrive at our destination until we leave. In practice this means a firm high waisted girdle, a bra and breast forms and a pretty, quite short, wig. He's required to wear a little make-up, mascarra and lipstick during the day, eye shadow and a little contouring in the evenings. We are usually out and about and I let him wear ladies trousers and sweaters during the day. However, in the evening, he knows he needs to put on stockings and a skirt.

Now, the important thing about Tim dressing en femme is that I don't have to tell him. He knows that if we are on vacation he is wearing women's clothes and is expected to try to be as feminine as possible. He tells me he enjoys the break.

The second, important, element to our vacations is that I let Tim out of his cock cage. Day to day I don't want to have to think about what that little head is thinking. Instead, I want Tim striving to be allowed a little relief as it makes him ever so much more attentive to my needs. But on vacation, I like to fuck Tim regularly. In our house "fucking Tim" has two meanings. Usually it means sending him up to our room to lube his bottom so I can fuck him with my strap on. I have a nice "big, black, cock" when I just want him to be fucked, and I also have an insertable if I want to have fun too.

But on vacation, I also like to fuck Tim the old fashioned way. I had Tim get a Viagra prescription a few years ago and there is nothing more fun than making him lie on his back like a good little housewife while I fuck him good and hard. He's well trained and can go for a long time without coming. On vacation I like to fuck him like that a couple of times a day.

The final element of our vacation is that Tim is caned and paddled far more than he is at home. He has to pack my narrow paddle, my wide bamboo paddle and as a special treat, a rattan cane which I only use on vacation. Tim knows he'll have a sore bottom the entire time we're away.

The big difference between being on vacation and being at home is that Tim is paddled and caned because I enjoy reddening his bottom before fucking him. It has nothing to do with his behaviour and there is nothing he can do to reduce his whippings. I'll paddle him when he comes back from his shower and then have him lick me, or I will give him six of the best before lunch. If I am going to fuck him in the afternoon I will get him warmed up with a good, hard paddling so that when he is lying on his back being fucked he remembers his place.

Yes, I am afraid I do have a little sadistic streak and, happily, Tim loves taking his submissiveness to the next level.

I don't think we could live like that day to day. We are both busy people and this takes real concentration and connection. But for a few days every six months or so we are both delighted to take our female led marriage to the next level.

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What fun! And lucky Tim. I suspect elliot would enjoy that sort of vacation. But I am a homebody so I suspect Mady and I will have to think of a "staycation" on similar lines.

Is Male Chastity Punishment?

Here is a question I had not really considered in the context of an FLR:

Is Male Chastity Punishment?

I had not considered it because I keep elliot in his chastity device pretty much full time from Labour Day until either the May 24th or July 1st Long Weekend. If he needs punishment I have my handy wooden shower brush or a number of canes and whips which I can deploy with great effect.

For me, elliot's chastity is a gift I insist he gives me (and Mady). It is not a punishment so much as a constant reminder of his place in my household and the fact he has no control over his sexual existence. I hold the key and whether he is required to humiliate himself by masturbating or to service Mady or, very rarely, to bring me greater pleasure, his little cock is under my total control.

However, many women who lead their marriages may not want to keep their husbands locked up. After all, there are many women who thoroughly enjoy spontaneous, penetrative sex and don't want to be bothered unlocking their husbands when they are "in the mood". Or a woman might well want to keep her husband on the honour system while she considers whether to lock that little cock down. It is, obviously, entirely up to her.

Now, if a man remains unrestrained the cock cage could well serve as a punishment. Even elliot's soft silicone cage is a bit uncomfortable when, as he often does, he becomes erect at the sight of Mady's pretty breasts or as the result of my teasing him. 

However, if I were using a cock cage as punishment I would want something a little bit more disciplinary. I am thinking of getting this gently spiked cage for elliot simply as a change of pace. But, as you can see, the "spikes" are really more nubs and while they will produce a bit of sensation, I very much doubt that even a raging erection would reach a disciplinary level.

If you are going to use a chastity as a punishment device then you will want something which is well past uncomfortable. This device has a spiked scrotal ring and, while it will not punish erections, it will certainly be unpleasant to be forced to wear for any length of time. However, my sense looking at this device is that the little "spikes" would really just create chafing rather than the real sensation of pain which is critical to punishment.

Not a choice I would make but if someone does decide to try this I would love to hear about your experiences.

I have to admit I have wanted an electro shock chastity device for elliot for some time. However, I have wanted one with a remote control and there have been very few offerings. But this year, under our Christmas tree, elliot is going to find this beauty. A gorgeous, remote control, hard shell, red electro shock device for his little cock. It will be great fun for Mady and I to calibrate it.

So the general answer to the question of a chastity device as a tool for male punishment, is, of course. Locking up your husband's cock will put him in his place. Better still, you can tell him how long he'll be locked up and why he is being punished. Men, especially younger men, tend to behave themselves much better, be more attentive and generally remember their place if you have the key to their cock.

But, and here's the thing, you may find you simply prefer to keep your husband locked pretty much full time. It puts all the sexual control where it should be, in your hands and you'll be able to gradually train him to take his pleasure from giving you pleasure. Once that happens, keeping your husband locked in chastity will simply make sense for both of you. In which case you'll have to find new and inventive ways to punish him. Which can be fun in itself.