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My good friend, Patricia, had come to see me concerning the marital problems

she had been having with her wealthy, playboy-husband, Robert.  At the time,

Patricia wanted consultation and advice.  She knew I was a successful domina,

and that I had a completely different attitude toward female/male

relationships.  My feeling is, of course, "the female should always be on

top", and in control.  I mean that literally and figuratively.

    "Robert is a cheat and a liar!" Patricia revealed to me. 

    My friend had positive proof of her charges.  Robert had been keeping

clandestine meetings with other women.

    "I don't know what they see in him," Patricia said.  "He is NOT a

satisfying lover.  He's the kind of male who is given to those ridiculous,

pre-mature ejaculations.  Mutual passion has certainly been lacking in our

marriage.  And now he dares to cheat on me?"

    "What is it you think you want to do about it?" I asked her.

    "Toast his ass!"  She hissed emphatically.

    "I love the description!  You haven't considered divorce?" I asked.

    "There's too much money involved to just walk away," Patricia said. 

"Besides, I think he owes me a large measure of vengeful satisfaction!"

    "Now you're talking," I smiled.  "What have you done so far?"

    Patricia told me in detail how she had gotten Robert to admit his

philandering.  Then she began administering random bits of verbal and

physical punishment to him.  The odd thing was," Patricia said, "he seems to

like it!"

    "First, I slapped his face," Patricia told me, "and he just stood there,

taking it! 


So, I tore his shirt completely off his back, and when he didn't

resist, I had him remove the rest of his clothes. 

    Meanwhile, I began calling him suitable names.  Among these were 'cheat'

and 'liar'.  I also began referring to him as Little Lying Bobby, instead of


    Patricia continued, "When he was finally naked, I fastened Bobby's wrists

behind his back with his own favorite, dress tie as a restraint, and had him

kneel before me.  Then I could look down on him while pinching, scratching

and doing more sporadic slapping."


    "A good beginning," I replied.  "What happened after that?"

    "I noticed two very significant effects of my continuing punishment,"

Patricia told me.  "First, throughout the period, as Bobby squirmed and

shuddered, I personally experienced a zinging, lustful rush, and I had a

first-time, inner explosion of tiny, rippling orgasms.  No hands needed!  I

was 'flying high'! 

    I knew I wanted more of these wondrous, unfamiliar sensations.  The

marvels of power over my defrauding husband were terribly exciting!  I glowed

with keen exuberance as never before!"           

    "Secondly," Patricia offered, "I noticed Bobby maintained an oozing

erection all during his correction from me.  It was as if he enjoyed being

intimately chastised.  I found these realities startling, but very promising

for our future together.  I realized I could get him sexually excited, and

then just string his emotions along indefinitely without any climax or

pleasure for him.  What could be more punishing than that?"

    "Tell me more!" I insisted, all wide-eyed.



    Patricia went on, "When I was through abusing Cheating Bobby that first

time, as I released his wrists, he unashamedly began to masturbate in front

of me.  Quickly, he was savoring a vigorous ejaculation.  I was a stunned at

the very sight of it. 


    I thought Bobby's personal pleasure was entirely inappropriate for the

occasion.  So, I made expedient plans to alter my procedures whenever his

time of punishment occurred, again, as I knew it would."  



    That was when Patricia first came to see me about her husband.  My reply

was calculated, factual, and concise.

    I told my friend she should find something more suitable to whip with

than Bobby's flimsy belt.  We eliminated ping-pong paddles as being too

childish.  Her naked hand was not severe and/or durable enough as she slapped

for long periods at his cheating flesh.  A kitchen spatula was nice, but too

small to create the overall, desired effect. 


    I encouraged Patricia, each time, to reduce her husband, Bobby, to

blubbering tears of genuine sorrow.  Only then, I felt, would her haunting

anger be, at least, temporarily satiated.


    From my dungeon wall, Patricia and I selected the perfect instruments for

wielding her discipline to 'Lying Bobby': a long, flexible, riding crop, and

a whip with heavy suede thongs! 

    The leather handle of the crop fit her petite hand, perfectly.  The

whistling sounds in the air before impact are always thrilling to create, and

they help to build tension and expectation between the Patricia and her

philandering husband.  Also, the powerful, cracking smacks of the whip

against selected portions of Bobby's naked body are emotionally stimulating

to both of them, but for quite different reasons.     




    On her next visit, Patricia told me more.  She said her blows were

directed mostly to her husband's bottom, back and legs with my crop and whip.


Patricia also struck his inner thighs to cause his repeated groans, but she

carefully avoids his 'precious' genitals.  Those would be tortured in a

completely different manner, as I will relate.     

    Patricia also decided Bobby needed to be suitably restrained for her

prolonged periods of punishment.  Sometimes she put him face down on the bed,

or on the floor, or even on the dining room table, with wrists and ankles

securely tethered.  It depended on her very changeable and unpredictable



    Saturdays became Bobby's regular days of atonement for any misdeeds, real

or imagined.  For instance, Patricia caught him looking at a Sears catalog of

women in their bras and panties one day.  He had an erection, unauthorized by

her at the time. 

    Patricia made a great, screaming to-do about this, but the actual reason

for her flogging and abusing him really didn't have to be much of anything to

raise her ire. 



She grew quite adept at 'inventing' trivial subjects to

complain about.  Bobby came to expect a bewildering series of bitchy

grievances from Patricia regarding his 'inexcusable' behavior.  She kept him

jumpy, mystified, and always guessing.  Bobby learned to endure whatever

Patricia offered.  


    Meanwhile, she had him move a cot into a niche in the attic.  Bobby was

never to sleep in Patricia's bed again.

    In addition to their regular Saturday sessions, Patricia began to use an

occasional weekly evening or two to placate her unquenchable fury.  Under my

guidance, she became quite exacting and judicious with her punishing

behavior, and enjoyed the engagements immensely.          


     To this day, Patricia's sessions with Bobby inevitably conclude with him

naked on his knees before her, hands secured behind his back, begging for her

unattainable forgiveness.  On command, he slowly kisses and licks her shapely

legs and curvy bottom before wailing his readiness to caress her hot,

delighted pussy with his lips and tongue.  This soon became Patricia's

preferred way to receive tributes of continuing, oral apology from Bobby. 

She said it's also her favorite method of producing outrageous orgasms for

herself.  Patricia adores being licked and sucked slowly to delicious,

humping conclusions.  In that particular way, Patricia is very much like



    My friend has invited me to watch some of these intimate sessions, so I

know everything she tells me about her relationship with her husband, is

true.  I have witnessed it all.


    After each session, Patricia's contrite husband continues to kneel naked

as she lounges leisurely before him, sipping wine, and smiling sweetly until

his throbbing, bobbing erection has finally dissipated of its own accord. 

Then, they're through for the evening. 


    If Patricia is in a good mood, she tells him, "All right, you have my

permission to go to the privacy of your cot in the attic, and whack off now."

  But if Patricia is dissatisfied, and Cheating Bobby's own excited ardor has

obviously not diminished in a reasonable length of time: say, three to five

minutes after her final orgasm of the evening, Patricia often 'assists' him

with tiny, very accurate, ice-water jets from a handy water pistol.  Or

perhaps she may use shocking soaks from an ice cup applied alternately to the

appropriate areas on his body.  Either method works wonders at diminishing

Bobby's throbbing, emotional tensions.

    She says Bobby complains bitterly of having to endure the shattering

pangs of 'blueballs', -- whatever that is.  He grimaces and moans for long

periods as Patricia sprays and/or holds the ice cup while giggling near his

face.  This too is part of his punishment. 

    Patricia does not allow Bobby to come, at least, not while she is

present.  He suffers through, what she and I call, 'a shaky, achy

anti-climax': almost, but never quite fulfilled.    


    Just for fun, using my recording equipment, we have made video recordings

of some of Patricia and Bobby's more frantic sessions together.  She forces

her husband-slave to watch these productions in his naked, kneeling position

on the floor, as we sit with our curvy butts comfortably on the couch.  We

have noticed that viewing these tapes causes near-immediate erections for

Bobby, but, of course, he knows these will definitely be ungratified.  His

throbbing penis weeps each time with pulsating emotion.  The 'poor',

unfucking thing!





    We particularly enjoy the final, filmed segments of each video where

Patricia slowly brings her pussy to Bobby's waiting mouth.  She loves to

tease him with it.  I have captured several close-ups of Patricia being

orally caressed to her progressively loud, frantic orgasms.     


    These intriguing videos were made on different occasions; from the front

of Patricia, from the right of her, from the left, and even from behind her. 

We both love to see her petite bottom rotating and humping in a steady,

erotic rhythm.  We also hear Bobby's soft, wet noises, as Patricia grips his

hair, and he does his best to orally please her.  This is how she literally

and figuratively fucks him silly.  In doing so, Patricia says her inner

desires and passions have been propelled from the former tepid to the






     To thank me for my contributions in helping Patricia find maximum sexual

fulfillment during her marriage, my friend occasionally invites me to join in

laughing at her husband's acute distress and humiliation.  She makes

passionate love to me right next to Cheating Bobby, while clutching tightly

to his balls.  Each time is an evening of great, hilarious, sadistic fun. 

Perhaps, if she and I do it often enough, Patricia might eventually feel

totally avenged, -- but I honestly doubt that will ever happen.  Ha ha!   


    Patricia and I think it's comical that most unaware people in our circle

of social contacts, regard she and her husband, Bobby, as a couple that has a

perfect marriage.  Well, in many ways, I suppose their relationship really

is, -- simply perfect!



     During the past month and at my urging, Patricia has told me she has

finally introduced Bobby to consuming daily allotments of her bubbly pee.

     "He balked at first," Patricia told me, "but after a few days of

encouragement with my whip and crop, plus a lot of verbal threats, Bobby is

resigned to it.  He has come to expect and enjoy it!" 

     "I store a few baby bottles full in the refrigerator," Patricia said,

"and he has one with each meal!  After each session, of course, he takes a

fresh draft right from my happy cunt.  I just hold his head in position with

my hands, and let loose.  He's learned to take every drop from me!"

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