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Husband Training For Her Happiness, Control and Pleasure

FemDom Husband Training: Halley’s Kitchen Floor (It’s a new day!)

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“Come on.”

It was so sweet, hearing her so clearly in his sleep.  He barely budged, a light smile drawing up on his face (as she told him later).

“Get up!” she said, louder, and with an edge that he knew and recognized.

This wasn’t a dream, he began to think, slowly rousing but trying to come awake quick as he could.

He was beginning to open his eyes when he heard something swishing through the air and felt a flaming lash across the front of his thighs.

“GET UP!” she yelled.

“OW!!! What th…”

Before he could get it out there were two more lashes.

“I SAID GET UP!”

“What are you doing? That hurts!”, he said scrambling to his feet.

“Quiet!” she yelled, with another stroke across the side of his thigh with her riding crop.

That’s going to leave a mark.  And for a moment, feeling the heat rising along the welts he wondered why he had bought that thing in the first place.

She stopped swinging and he stopped talking.  He was finally coming to, now, and this was entirely strange and new.

Who was this person? Was this his sweet, tender wife Halley?  Halley would never behave this way…would she?

The bedroom was still dark, but there was enough light coming down the hall from the kitchen (“The kitchen? Why is the kitchen light on? What time is it, anyway?” He had no answers to any of it), and his eyes began to adjust.

She was in her panties, that’s what she wore most nights.  And she was beautiful and he loved her.

She stood silently in front of him, almost towering over him even thought she was five inches shorter than him.  The outline of her full body and all its curved delight was framed against the light, her legs shoulder width apart, the crop tapping methodically  – and a little menacingly – against her right thigh.

It was like she was taunting him, waiting for him to say something…anything…and then…

They stared at each other.

“So, …” he began.

“QUIET!” she snapped, drawing the crop across her body and landing it hard on his right thigh.

“OW!”

She’s also hitting differently;  harder…definitely harder.  What is going on?

She crossed her arms, shifted her weight to her right side and looked at him.  It was more of a glare, actually.

Coming bolt upright and drawing herself up, she rapped the crop against her left palm.  And then she stopped cold, took the shaft of the crop in her left hand, and with her right hand made a motion towards the floor, flat palm, fingers straight and together.

He knew this sign.  They had looked at these signs together online.  Matter of fact, he was the one that brought it all to her attention.

There was no question of what he would do and he found himself a second later on his hands and knees in front of her.

But she’s never used these before! She wasn’t even interested.  What the fuck?

There wasn’t time to think as she bent slightly and swatted each cheek with the crop.

“Who do you belong to?” she said.

“I belong to you.”

“Wrong!” she snapped with a sharp slap, bending the crop down his right thigh.

“I belong to you, Mistress.”

“Now, why is that so hard?  Why should I have to do that?  You know…and I know you know, that when we are in this mode, … I know you know how to address me.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“And yet [crack]…you [crack]… choose [crack] to irritate me and displeasure me.”

Jesus! Who IS this person?

“I’m sorry, Mistress.”

“Oh, you will be…you definitely WILL be sorry!”

“Come on,” she said as she turned to walk out of the bedroom.  He crawled on all fours behind her.

“COME ON! HURRY UP!”

She was standing in the hall facing toward the kitchen when he crawled through the doorway.

He stopped and looked up at her.

“Kitchen!” she said, pointing with the crop. “Get going!”

Hardwood in the bedroom and hall gave way to tile in the kitchen, and his knees were already sore by the time the reached the doorway.  He paused.

(crack)”Get in there!”

He hurried into the kitchen, stopping in the center of the room.  The light was just the normal kitchen light (“But it’s so fucking BRIGHT!”)

He glanced up at the microwave:  “4:37”

“Look around,” she said sharply, moving from behind him to a couple of feet directly in front.

Silence.

And he looked around.

It was … the kitchen … mostly the floor, for him … at 4:37 in the fucking morning.

“What do you see?”

Pause.  (“Careful…”)

“The kitchen.”

“Anything else?” she said, taking a quick aggressive step towards him, pushing the crop straight down her right leg.

“Mostly the floor, Mistress”

“…AND?”

Hmmm… Wow! It’s actually pretty dirty…

“And it’s not clean, . . . not clean enough, Mistress.”

“Matter of fact, this floor is dirty enough…” she said stepping back and forth in front of him, slapping the crop across her thigh, “…that even YOU can see it. Is that correct?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“In ‘The Ten’, isn’t there something about my ‘domestic bliss’?”

“Yes. I am to keep the domestic bliss in your household.”

“What, exactly, does The Ten state?”

Silence.  JEEZ! Think! THINK!

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“Not exactly.  It’s so early, and…”

“Go get the list,” she interrupted raising her voice and taking a step towards him.

He turned and started crawling.

“RUN!” she shouted.

He jumped up and ran into the bedroom, opened the bureau drawer and grabbed the list then ran back into the kitchen.

She stood glowering.

He dropped to his knees, laid the sheet of paper on the floor in front of him and resumed his position on his hands and knees.

She stepped around behind him and began rubbing the crop over his ass.

“Read it.”

“I recognize and accept my role in maintaining the domestic bliss in Halley’s household.”

POW!

“Read it again.”

“I recognize and accept my role in maintaining the domestic bliss in Halley’s household.”

POW!

“Read it again.”

POW!

“Read it again.”

“I recognize and accept my role in maintaining the domestic bliss in Halley’s household.”

Silence, and the light tapping of the crop against her thigh.

She took a brisk step forward and to his left and with a hard swat on his left ass cheek said, “The laundry room.  GO!”

He crawled fast as he could and she moved ahead of him and opened the door and stepped into the laundry room before him.  Turning around she tapped on a blue bucket with the crop.

“You’ll use this.”

She reached into a brush holder for a cleaning brush with a six inch handle and dropped in front of him, and picking up a bottle of cleaner and laying it on the washing machine, “…and this.”

“Bring some rags, too. Make it snappy!” and she stepped past him and out of the room.

He sprang to his feed, grabbed the bucket and brush and cleaner and almost ran into the kitchen.

She was waiting, arms crossed.

She smiled, not in a loving smile – more like a making-fun-of, pitiful smile.  “Look at you, standing here naked holding that stuff.  Don’t you look just wonderful?”

He was suddenly aware of his nakedness and embarrased.  But there was no time to dwell on it.

“On your knees!” she barked, pointing two fingers to the floor in front of her.

He layed everything down and knelt.

“Hot water in the bucket, and keep it hot. Follow the directions on the bottle.  I want every single tile in here scrubbed with that brush, then wiped off with a cloth you wring out in the sink.  When you’re done, wash the sink and the bucket and put everything away. Sweep the room first. Understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I want it done and dry before I come in here for breakfast.  And I also want all the grout scrubbed.  There is cleaner in the laundry room, and you’ll use an old toothbrush.  If you can’t find one, use yours.”

She flicked the tip of the crop at his nipples.  “Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mistresss.”

“I’m going back to bed.  This dis-pleases me to be up so early taking care of things that are YOUR responsibility. Do you understand that, or do I need to drive it home some more?”

Grabbing him by the hair on the top of his head and twisting his head upwards she continued, “Anyway, . . . we’ll address that later, won’t we?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Letting go of his hair she relaxed a bit, folding her arms with the crop jutting up from her right hand she said, “Things are changing, in case you haven’t noticed,  and you’ll have some adjusting that you’ll have to do to get used to things.  But I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

She stepped forward, spreading her legs and leaning until they were face to face, she pressed the crop into his balls and looked into his eyes, “I’ll make sure you do just fine.”

“Get to work.”

As she walked out of the room she said over her shoulder, “In case you finish early, you can get a blanket and make a pallet on the floor in the hall.  Don’t wake me up.”

He heard the bedroom door close and…she was gone.

He jumped up began running the hot water.

As it warmed he read the instructions on the bottle and thought about how different this whole thing was.  She was changing, definitely hitting harder with the crop.  He looked down at the bright red stripe rising across the front of his thigh. No question about it.

She said things were changing, and apparently they are.  Sleep on the floor in the hall?  What’s up with that?  But what’s causing it – did she change?  Does she still love him?  Is there some other man?

This is ridiculous.  Stop making shit up.

Besides, I’ve got work to do.  And in an instant he was on his hands and knees.

And then it hit him:  Here he is, naked, striped and on his hands and knees in the middle of the night scrubbing his Mistress’ kitchen tiles.  Wasn’t that some idea of his that he’d thrown out before?

He remembered – she just looked at him like he had four heads or something.  Back then it obviously didn’t make any sense to her.

But now, … suddenly … he was here, he could smell the cleaner and feel the pain in his knees and the sting in the welts on his body.

Something was definitely changing.

Right now, he had to do as his Mistress instructed.  No more time to ponder.

It only took about an hour to do the kitchen floor.  He was sweaty…surprisingly sweaty, probably smelled bad, too, but all he could smell was cleaner.  And his knees felt like they were permanently bruised.  Maybe they were just irritated, but he was sure those were bruises that were beginning to show.

His back ached, too.

But the fucking floor was fabulous!  Spic and span – literally!

He went into the den to get a blanket, then on his way back thought that maybe it would please her if he went ahead and did the laundry that was stacked in the laundry room, so he started another load.  Opening the dryer he found dry clothes.  These have to be folded.

He gathered them up and began folding them in the den.  She doesn’t care about having her panties folded.  He knew that.  But for some reason, he was meticulous about folding everything including her panties, and stacking everything neatly to be moved to the right place once she was awake.

By that time it was almost 6:00 a.m.  Her alarm clock was set for 6:30.

He dropped the blanket in the hall and unfolded it a little and layed down, sore all over, it felt like.  He closed his eyes.

The bedroom door popped open and Halley came out in a flash of that wonderful morning energy she carried with her.

He was jarred from a deep sleep.

“Good morning, honey. Bring me my coffee, please.”

And she slid into the bathroom and closed the door.

How long was it – 3 minutes or something?  He had just closed his eyes, for crying out loud.

He flexed a little, moved a around slowly and came up on all fours, then his knees, then bracing against the wall, pulled himself up and shuffled back to the kitchen.

6:35.

The coffee was ready.  That was a good thing.  And the cups were there, right where he left them last night when he went to bed.

He filled both cups and fixed hers just the way she liked it, and thought to himself how very, very lucky and proud he was to belong to her and have her as his wife.

He took her coffee into the bathroom and left it on the counter.  “Your coffee, my love.”

“Thank you!” she said from the shower.

He closed the door and went into the bedroom to make the bed, the first step for him in their daily ritual, then went back to the kitchen to make her lunch and breakfast.

He made her usual lunch, then went back to the bedroom where she was dressing and finishing her makeup.

“What would you like for breakfast?”

“I’ll get something on the way today,” she said.  Then, turning to face him with a stern look she said, “I don’t like having my sleep interrupted that way, not matter how necessary it might be.  And I’m telling you right here, right now that if it has to happen again, you will be very… very… sore and very sorry.”

Silence.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Turning back around to the mirror, “I’ll eat on the way.  Right now, I want to inspect the kitchen,” she said, and brushed past him through the bedroom door.

“Bring my paddle,” she added over her shoulder.

When he came into the kitchen she was standing in the middle of the room and seemed to be smiling approvingly.  God, she’s just gorgeous!  He walked over to her and handed her the handle end of the heavy oak paddle.

She took it in her right hand, tapped it against her left palm, then put two fingers of her left hand upward in a V and brought them up and then pointedly down to the floor.

He knelt, knees apart, hands behind his back. (…and everything she’s doing suddenly…this was all whose idea, by the way?)

“Very, very nice!  It’s so CLEAN!” she said, looking around the room.

“You did a great job.”

Walking out of the room, she said, “This way.  And bring The 10.”

She walked to the middle of the den and stopped and turned around facing him.

He stopped and stood.  She motioned for him to turn around.  He turned and stood upright with his feet together, holding the sheet of paper at eye level as she adjusted her reach and stance and rubbed the paddle over his butt.

“You read.  And you don’t stop reading until I say.”

“I recognize male attributes, habits and behaviors that are not supportive of women, undermining a loving relationship.”

But before he got the first four words out, the paddled had landed 3 times and they were as hard as the crop had been overnight.

“I recognize my own habits and behaviors are not constructive and must be improved.”  His voice was getting higher and louder.

Another barrage, he began losing count.

“I pledge to work daily to form new habits and behaviors that are more constructive and are pleasing to her.”

“OW!”

“QUIET! AND KEEP [POW] READING [POW]…[POW]…

“I accept my responsibility and my role in maintaining the domestic bliss in my woman’s household.”

“THERE IT IS. [POW] AGAIN!”

“I accept my responsibility and my role in maintaining the domestic bliss in my woman’s household.”

“THERE IT IS. [POW] AGAIN!”

“I accept my responsibility and my role in maintaining the domestic bliss in my woman’s household.”

[POW] “AGAIN!”

“I accept my responsibility and my role in maintaining the domestic bliss in my womans household.”

“THERE IT IS. [POW] AGAIN!”

She was swinging with all her might – just the way he’d suggested but she had resisted and he remembered how she demurred,worried for the longest time that she would ‘hurt him’.

His butt was on fire and his knees were buckling more with every shot.

Finally she stopped and drew a breath.

“Things are changing, you understand? Get used to this.  You’ve gotten lazy and careless and I won’t have it!”

“Yes, Mistress.”  He was almost crying.

She delivered another 6 hard shots.

“Your behavior has pissed me off.  Tell me:  is that something you want to continue? [POW] Because, if you think THIS hurts, next time I might get REAALLLLY harsh with your disobedience.”

Silence.

“IS IT?” [POW]

“No, Mistress.”

She gave him one more hard shot below his cheeks on the top of his thighs.

“Did you clean the grout as I requested?”

Horror!

“No, Mistress. I forgot that when I started the laundry after the floor.”

“You forgot!” she announced with another stroke.

“OW!”

“Quiet!”

His knees were shaking and sweat was pouring off him.

“You’ll do that this morning before you go to work.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She handed him the paddle, and he turned to accept it.

Once again she motioned to the floor and he obeyed.

She walked over to the mirror and checked her hair and makeup.  “You will do as I say. ”

Turning and walking back to him she stopped almost on top of him, towering. “And if you don’t, there will be a price to pay.  And I’ve decided to take you up on a lot of things you’ve said.  Yes, in fact, I CAN swing harder, and you CAN take more than what I’ve been delivering.  It’s a new day, and starting now, we’ll find out how much. You’ll have to get accustomed to taking all you can take soon, though.”

She grabbed him by a handful of hair and bent down, turning his head up until their eyes were a couple of inches apart.

“You are mine. You are my property.  You know why I whipped you like that this morning?  Because I enjoyed it!  That’s right.  I enjoyed it!  You deserved it, too.  Things are definitely changing.  And here’s another reason for whipping you like this:  Because… I … Can …  ”

“And I’ll do it anytime I want.  Understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She released his hair with a shove.

“I’m going to work.  Get busy with the floor before you do anything else.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Have a wonderful day!  I love you!”

She picked up her lunch and walked through the door. He heard the car start and…she was gone.

He realized his knees were still shaking as he stood there in the middle of the den.

Snapping to awareness, he made a move toward the kitchen and instantly felt the most intense pain in his hips and thighs.  It was going to be a bitch to bend down in this pain.

But … it was time.  Now, where was that toothbrush?

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