I didn't keep careful track, but looking back over the last three years, I would say that Luke slept in the same bed as Brooke roughly 70% of the time on average. Of that 70%, two thirds of the time was spent at our house in town and one third at Luke's, especially in the summer so we could spend time in his huge back yard and large in-ground pool. My favorite times, of course, were the 30% when he was not around, as back in the early days of our marriage. These were usually when Luke was traveling on business (scouting out potential acquisitions, meeting with investors or simply managing his growing empire) or for away games with his amateur football team. And there were other periods where Brooke wanted to put some distance between them, usually after Luke pushed the envelope a bit too far in exerting his physical dominance over her in non sexual contexts. To his credit, I suppose, Luke always honored the spirit of their agreement, backing off when she told him to, and he never seriously hurt her. He never sent me to the hospital either, but made minced meat out of my bottom on numerous occasions (and once hit my balls so hard with a wooden spoon that I thought I might have to go, but I weathered the storm).
But after those intervals when she wanted him to stay away for awhile, Brooke invariably wanted him back, usually with renewed hunger. Luke, or perhaps more accurately, his cock, was like a drug to her, and she was a junkie. He always wanted to be back with her as well, after these periods of separation -- and, no doubt, to be back lording it over me -- but that didn't mean he wouldn't sometimes make her beg for it. I remember one day, after one of their longest periods of not seeing one another (about two weeks -- prompted by him spanking her particularly brutally following an argument over politics), I came into the house after teaching all day to find Brooke naked and on her knees, vehemently sucking Luke's big toe from where he sat imperiously on the couch. She had been imploring him to come back for about a week and he had been playing hard to get. Increasingly desperate, she had been highly distraught for several days, and very short tempered with me.
So now he was really making her humble herself before him. It pained me to see it, but I knew she at least was happy that he was back. He simply looked up at me from the couch with a malicious grin, and pointed down at his other foot. I knew what that meant. I quickly took off my coat, pants, socks, and shirt, and knelt down in front of his other foot, wearing only my panties. I removed his boot, stuck my nose in it and inhaled deeply (as I had been taught), removed his sock, and began sucking his other big toe with the same abject enthusiasm being shown by my wife. The king was back in control again. How good it must've felt to him to have his two lowly subjects abase themselves at his royal feet.
Savoring the moment, he kept us both there, sucking abjectly, for 20 minutes before he finally said, "OK, babe, I guess you really did miss big Luke. Let's go upstairs. You too, prof."
Brooke removed her lips from his soaking wet toe and, with tears in her eyes (whether of joy, relief, humiliation, or some combination of the above, I couldn't say for sure), said "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
Once we were upstairs, Luke said to Brooke, "Babe, I have another one of my brilliant ideas. In the future, if I'm punishing you for something, something outside of the bedroom and you don't like it, why don't you tell me and I'll punish the cuck here, instead? Sort of like your whipping boy. Didn't they have whipping boys back in the olden days you're always writing about, prof?"
"The evidence is a little mixed, sir, and historians disagree about whether or not whipping boys, and whipping girls for that matter, really existed or not. The first mention of a whipping boy came in 1605 in Samuel Rowley's play 'When You See Me, You Know Me.' After that, they were quite frequently mentioned in literature. But there are a couple of historical references to them as well. I tend to be of the school of thought that they were very real, indeed. At a minimum, in Eastern monarchies, but I tend to think in Europe as well."
"Way too much fucking information, prof. I'm not one of your loser students. 'School of thought.' What bullshit! So, what do you think of my idea, babe?"
"Yes, I think that could work. I don't want to be apart from you for so long again. Please, just fuck me now."
"Now wait just a minute, babe. Let's get into the proper mood first. I just know your whipping boy here shares your woke, bleeding heart beliefs that we argued about last time. So, he's going to take the punishment for you that I didn't get to finish last time. I know seeing that will get you nice and randy, too. Kill two birds with one stone."
"I'm randy already, sir, believe me. Please just let take me now. I've been waiting SO long."
"Now, now, a little more waiting isn't gonna kill you. Boy, put on your white tights and fetch that new thin cane I hung downstairs awhile back. Time we finally try it out."
"Yes, sir." I pulled out my tights from the bottom dresser drawer changed right in front of them, feeling my cock stiffen. I then ran downstairs and retrieved the cane. When I got back up to the bedroom, I presented it to Luke in the manner in which I had been taught: on bended knee before him, head bowed, and arms extended, holding the cane flat on my upturned palms.
He took a key off the key chain in his pocket, and handed it to me. "You may remove your chastity cage, cuck. I know your wife enjoys seeing your little cock get hard when I beat your ass."
