The Search and the Surrender
Evan had always known he was different. At 32, with a slight build, soft hazel eyes, and a quiet demeanour, he'd spent years yearning for something he could barely articulate--a woman who would take him in hand, mould him, and guide him with a firm, loving grip. His small penis and tendency toward premature ejaculation had fuelled a deep-seated insecurity, but they also stoked a fire within him: a craving for submission, for a woman who would wield power over him with strength and grace.
He'd searched online forums, attended discreet munches, and even tried vanilla relationships that inevitably fizzled out. Then he met Clara. She was 36, tall, with sharp green eyes and an aura of unshakable confidence. At their first meeting in a dimly lit café, she'd leaned forward, her voice low and commanding: "Tell me what you want, Evan... Be honest." Trembling, he'd confessed his desires--control, rules, devotion, even humiliation--and she'd smiled, a predator's gleam in her gaze. "Good boy," she'd said, "that is what I wanted to hear." and his fate was sealed.
Their courtship was a whirlwind of exploration. Clara established rules from the start: Evan was to kneel when greeting her, address her as "Mistress" in private, and ask permission for any pleasure. She delighted in his small penis, teasing him with gentle humiliation whenever she played with it - "Such a sweet little thing, not really enough to please a woman."--and revelled in his premature spurts, using them as a tool to deepen his submission. In the early days, she would always lean down and lick up his cum. Smiling as she swallowed the gooey mess. Then as time passed, she'd sometimes give Ethan a long passionate kiss after she'd licked his tummy clean - allowing the sperm to flow into his mouth. This shocked Ethan at first, but he could hardly complain when Clara was always so happy to swallow his cum herself. The next stage was gently urging him to clean up the silly mess himself each time he ejaculated. This eventually became the norm for Ethan and scooping up his sperm in his hands and licking them clean became his automatic response to shooting his little load.
She introduced spanking early on, her hand firm against his bare skin, leaving him quivering with a mix of shame and adoration. The cane came later, a sharp sting that marked his devotion in red lines across his bottom.
Clara's control was absolute, yet laced with love. She feminised him gradually: soft panties under his jeans at first, then a frilly nighty in bed, until he was wearing full outfits at home, allowing his feminine side to play a fuller role in his daily life.
"You're growing into the perfect hubby darling; I'm so proud of you," Clara whispered one Sunday morning while Evan, perched on the edge of the bed, was pulling a sheer pair of stockings up his freshly shaved legs. Clara was still lying sleepily next to him. "We have the whole day to ourselves. Why don't we spend it in bed?"
To Ethan, this meant one thing. He stopped getting dressed and crawled under the covers without another word. He eased his wife's slender legs apart and planted a tender kiss on her soft pussy lips. Then he said started to gently lick her. He lost himself in the moist softness of her sex, his tongue tracing the velvety folds of her enchanting pussy, leading to hours of oral sex, her pleasure his ultimate reward.
She denied him penetration on this occasion, but sat up and gave him a sensuous oily hand job resulting in a beautiful climax that made Ethan feel like the luckiest man in the world. Brought to ecstatic orgasm by the woman he adored.
They married within a year, a private ceremony where Evan knelt at her feet, pledging his life to her. Clara's vows promised to guide, protect, and cherish him, her strength a pillar he could lean on. Their deeply reciprocated love grew roots in this dynamic--her power, his surrender, their mutual appreciation a quiet undercurrent to every act.
The First Decade
The first ten years of their marriage were a tapestry of ritual and evolution. Clara's rules expanded: Evan cleaned the house in a maid's outfit, his feminisation now a daily joy. It wasn't until their 2nd Wedding Anniversary that Clara let Evan know that she had other lovers to satisfy her need for real rewarding sex. She reassured him that none of the men was a threat to their marriage and that he held a unique place in her heart, but Evan still struggled to process what he initially saw as betrayal. Clara presented the situation as a fait accompli - an inevitable facet of their relationship dynamics. She was unbending in her insistence that this was the way things had to be, and she sealed its place in their marriage by inviting Marcus into their bed. He was one of her regular lovers with a thick cock and incredible stamina and he made passionate love to her that night while Evan watched, trembling with humiliation and arousal on this milestone day in their marriage.
Part of Evan wanted to protest, put a stop to this overt cheating and humiliation, but he couldn't find the words or the courage to say anything. Marcus took her in every conceivable position - pounding her relentlessly, giving her multiple orgasms as she shuddered and cried out, impaled on his massive organ. Ethan had never seen his lovely wife in such raptures and then, when Marcus had finally shot his load deep inside her, he heard Clara implore... "Clean me up, sweetie. This is your moment... You can make me yours again by licking up and swallowing every last glob of Marcus' seed." Instead of objecting - standing up for himself, Ethan crawled across the bed and lay between Clara's legs, eagerly lapping up the cream pie she offered, his tongue diligent, her moans the reward for his submission. He was eating another man's sperm out of his wife's pussy and he didn't even put up a fight. Was it really so different from eating his own sperm? Ethan could no longer separate his own desires from those of his beloved wife. Such was her control over him, that he felt joy and pride in fulfilling any and every wish she expressed. Was this cruelty on Clara's part, or was it just a dance, their dance, a testament to his devotion and her control? However Evan saw it, this was a dance that was repeated regularly from that momentous day on...
Strict discipline for Ethan remained a constant. Weekly hand spankings over Clara's lap on his bare bottom served to maintain her authority over her hubby. A missed chore earned him six strokes with the cane - much more painful...
Here is what happened one Saturday in June. In many ways, this was a typical weekend at Clara and Ethan's house, but the way Ethan suffered is anything but mundane.
The dining room was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fireplace casting a warm glow across the hardwood floor. Clara, clad in a simple yet commanding black dress that hugged her curves, sat poised on a sturdy wooden chair. Her posture was regal, her eyes sharp with intent as she beckoned Ethan forward. He stood before her, head slightly bowed, his bare feet shifting nervously against the cool floor. He wore only a frilly pair of pink panties, a deliberate choice she'd made to heighten his vulnerability.
