If she spanks him hard, will he love her even more?
According to this DWC story, yes. After twenty years as a disciplined husband in a disciplinary FLR marriage, I agree.
It’s been almost twenty years since I discovered the Disciplinary Wives Club website (now defunct). It was a wonderful resource for couples who were just dipping their toes into this lifestyle, perhaps even more so for husbands who had an unexplored desire to receive a “real” disciplinary/punishment spanking.
The Disciplinary Wives Club (DWC) was founded by a couple who went by “Aunt Kay” and “Jerry.” Kay died a few years ago. I have a current relationship with Jerry, who has been a wonderful resource. Through him, I’ve come to understand what a community effort the DWC was and how much it functioned like a real “club.”
The website had a large collection of domestic discipline stories, broken out into “Fiction” and “Real People” sections. There was one story in the Fiction section that resonated powerfully for me the first time I read it, to such an extent that I credit it with helping me work up the courage to bring the DWC website to my wife’s attention.
Later, on my own DWC-oriented blog, I mentioned what an impact (pun somewhat intended) that story, entitled Even More, had on me, which led to learning the author’s (pseudonymous) identity. He goes by the name of Alan Smith for DWC purposes. I’m reprinting the full story here with his permission, then I’ll talk a little about why it resonated for me.
All things considered, Susan had been quite patient. For a good ten minutes, she had listened to David’s rantings flow through the telephone in a seemingly incessant stream. She was not altogether unsympathetic to his frustration. Nevertheless, he was just being plain grumpy and irritable. And the solution was all too obvious. “David, stop. This discussion has ended and you are in for a long hard spanking tonight. Maybe that will give you something else to think about for a while,” Susan pronounced.
Immediately a bolt of terror flashed through the pit of David’s gut. A trip over Susan’s knee was not the stuff of fun and fantasy. He did not want a dose of Susan’s hairbrush. And he especially did not want one tonight. Already depressed and upset over their argument, he was definitely “not in the mood” for the thorough bottom blistering that he knew Susan would deliver.
The immediate change in David’s tone and attitude was nothing short of remarkable, “Oh, please, Susan, not that, not tonight. I am really, really sorry. I just got carried away, that’s all. You know how much I love you. I never meant to upset you. I promise — not another word about it.” Susan replied softly but unyieldingly, “I know you love me, David, and you’ll love me even more after I finish spanking you tonight. I know you don’t think so now, but you will. I love you, too, David, and you’ll just have to trust me — you need a good sound spanking. It really is for the best. But I have to get back to work now. So I’ll see you when I get home, and we’ll take care of it right then and there, and get it out of the way. Bye now.”
David slowly hung up the phone and buried his face in his hands, a sinking feeling settling into his stomach as his bottom began to twitch and tingle involuntarily as he nervously anticipated his forthcoming ordeal. Soon, David sank into a solemn reverie. He had only himself to blame. He had been in the wrong, and they both knew it. And why he had lost control and started with his whining and ranting was incomprehensible. He had been spanked more than once for that same thing, he certainly should have known better.
David briefly pondered the idea that maybe this was the time to give up their disciplinary relationship. Susan had told him that he could opt out of the arrangement at any time if he had truly decided it was not for him after all. But she would not go back and forth with it, playing games. He either wanted to be a disciplined husband, or he didn’t. She would not leave him over his decision to cancel their contract, but neither would she remain in a relationship with constant bickering and arguing. If he did not choose to have her impose discipline on him, he would have to find a way to become self-disciplined.
But he would not end it and they both knew it. Despite his genuine dread of the excruciatingly painful paddlings he received bare bottom over Susan’s knee, he did not really want to give them up. The spankings were undeniably both unpleasant and quite painful, but the idea of his submission in a way that redeemed him through very real physical pain, and in a way that many would find humiliating and degrading satisfied him in a way that was completely beyond his comprehension.
And, he had asked for the relationship, he reflected, as his thoughts drifted back over the past couple of years.
It had started as play, with David introducing spanking into their sexual explorations. While spanking had been a lifelong fantasy for David, Susan had thought it somewhat kinky at first, but had gradually warmed to the idea. Although they had switched some at first, it soon became evident that David’s passion was to bottom, and Susan surprised herself by discovering how much she enjoyed the sense of power and domination she experienced when playing the top role.
The spankings had remained light and playful for a time, with Susan giving David relatively brief hand spankings, and maybe a few swats with a padded ping pong paddle, prior to their making love. David had experienced little actual pain, mostly a mild sting, with an occasional zinger thrown in for good measure.
However, David’s real desire, so he believed, was a real disciplinary spanking, the kind he had read of so many times in the stories that appeared on the Net. Countless times he had fantasized about being taken over a woman’s knee, and his bare bottom subjected to a long and hard paddling with the hairbrush, the kind that would leave his rear red and blistered, and tears in his eyes.
But David just couldn’t bring himself to express these secret desires to Susan. He was already struggling with the idea that he was somehow diminishing his masculinity by taking the bottom role, even in the mild spanking play they had enjoyed thus far. To ask her to deliver the kind of disciplinary spanking he so often fantasized about, and to explain what that entailed, was simply too much for him.
The fateful event that was to change all that was so simple it was almost anticlimactic. David found a website. He was just surfing when he stumbled on “The Disciplinary Wives Club”. Here he marveled as “Aunt Kay” encouraged wives to take matters “in hand” with their bad boy husbands, and even included detailed instructions on how to properly spank their errant spouses. And they were exactly the kind of spankings he so often fantasized about, perhaps even more so.
He had read with almost morbid fascination Aunt Kay’s section on techniques, in which she advocated bare bottom, over the knee spankings, delivered long and hard with the legendary hairbrush. When hubby was finally let up, she had postulated, his eyes should be wet with tears, his knees quivering, and his bottom very well blistered. Her concluding remark had been, “The longer and harder you spank, the more he will love you for it.”
That final remark haunted him, touched something deep and dark far down in his soul, as he read the pages in the site over and over. This was it, he finally admitted to himself, the realization of his fantasies, to be the disciplined husband of a disciplinary wife.
Sometime later, Susan returned from her shopping trip. And David, in a great leap of faith and courage, managed to smile and say, as casually and light-heartedly as he could possibly manage, “Susan, come take a look at this website. It looks like it’s right up your alley.”
Susan glanced over David’s shoulder to see what he had found, and immediately said, “Wow! What’s this about?”
She spent an hour or so seemingly engrossed in the information emanating from the screen, as David nervously scurried about, putting groceries away, making Susan a cup of coffee, and generally doing anything he could think of stay busy, trying not to drive himself insane wondering what she must be thinking.
Finally, Susan turned away from the screen. She remained silent for a moment, seeming to gather her thoughts, and then said simply, “Dave, is this what you want?”
Dave hesitated and considered changing his mind, telling her that he just thought it was “funny” or “interesting”, considering their spanking play. But, he had come so far to even show her the site, he couldn’t lie to her now.
Soon he replied, softly, seriously, “Yes, Susan, I think it is. At least I think I would like to experience it.”
Susan surprised him with a smile and a giggle, “Oh good! I was hoping you would say that. Are you ever in for it the next time you leave the toilet seat up!”
They laughed together, and with the ice broken, talked for hours about their desires, and the details of their arrangement. David was able to confess his most secret fantasies, and Susan was able to admit that their spanking play had sparked something she didn’t know was in her, a passion for disciplinary dominance.
By dinnertime, they had typed up a preliminary contract outlining their rules for a disciplinary relationship and had gone out to their favorite steak house to celebrate their new arrangement. They had even stopped at the mall on the way home to find Susan a real wooden hairbrush.
They had no sooner arrived home than Susan followed David into the bathroom to discover that he had left the toilet seat up. “Damn it, David,” Susan exclaimed, “we just talked about you not leaving the seat up this afternoon. You know that was one of the things we agreed you would be spanked for.”
David stammered, “Sorry, I just forgot. You know it takes a while to break old habits. But I promise I won’t forget again.” David really had forgotten to lower the seat, lost in thought about all that had transpired through the day. And he was nervous. In spite of all his fantasies, the reality of the contract and the purchase of the hairbrush was beginning to sink in. He began to wonder if he had made a very big mistake.
“Well, David, we’re just going to help you make sure you don’t forget again. It looks like we’ll be breaking in this hairbrush sooner than I expected. Take off your pants and meet me at the sofa,” Susan replied curtly.
David gulped, “Don’t you think I should get one warning, Susan? Don’t you think that would be more fair?”
“David, you just signed a contract this afternoon agreeing to no arguments about your discipline, and now you’re already arguing. You asked for this arrangement, and you’re going to live up to it. Now, do as I said.” And with that, Susan had turned and walked away.
David removed his pants and underwear and followed Susan into the living room, finding her sitting in the middle of the sofa, hairbrush in hand.
Susan said nothing, but tapped the brush against her thigh, the signal they had agreed on for him to lie across her legs.
Remembering that the contract called for extra punishment for anything other than immediate compliance to this signal, he quickly laid him across her legs, the sofa supporting his body. As was suggested in “Aunt Kay’s” spanking tips, she wrapped her right leg over his two legs to help hold him in place once the spanking began.
David’s mind briefly wandered to remember the one time a few weeks later when he had argued about crossing her knee on command. That had been a serious error. Susan had jumped up and beat him mercilessly across his bottom and thighs. Grabbing his arm, she had chased him around in a circle, furiously swinging the paddle against his bare bottom and thighs, re-enacting that age-old spanking dance. He had finally managed to drop to the floor and beg for mercy. But Susan had been hardly merciful. He had still received his longest spanking to date over Susan’s knee, and after corner time, had been soundly switched for his disobedience. He had been reduced to sobbing by the time the nasty switch had worked its painful black magic on him. He would never make that mistake again.
Susan had begun that first spanking with, “David, I simply will not tolerate you leaving the toilet seat up. It is thoughtless and inconsiderate. We have already discussed that you will get a spanking for this, and that is exactly what is going to happen. And you can believe that you will be remembering this spanking every time you sit down for a few days to come, and maybe that will help you remember that I have to sit down on the toilet. Do you understand?”
Susan swung her hairbrush for the first time. WHACK!! It was only a moderately hard swat, but it was far different from the mild swats that he had received by hand and occasionally the padded ping pong paddle. It stung and burned and hurt. The very real pain of the hairbrush was a shock; David really had no idea of the reality of what he had so often fantasized about, but with first crack of the hairbrush, reality became all too clear.
He gasped, “Yes ma’am, I understand. I promise it will never happen again.” “I hope not, David, because the very next time you do, you will find yourself right back over my knee again, and I will have to spank you much harder and longer. Do you understand that also?”
WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! Susan alternated cheek to cheek, striking a bit harder this time, finding that she enjoyed the sense of power she felt. David yelped. The hairbrush stung him badly. He had no idea that it would really hurt so much. “Yes ma’am, I promise I understand. I promise I will never ever forget again.”
“Well, we’ll see. I’m sure you will try to remember after the I get through giving your bottom a good long blistering.” WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! Susan delivered two to each cheek in rapid succession. She noted with satisfaction the pink glow that already beginning to form on David’s rear.
David groaned and buried his face in the sofa cushion. It hurt so bad. He could never have imagined.
“You really should be ashamed, David, having to have your bottom spanked like this. You would think a grown man could remember a simple little thing like leaving the toilet seat down.”
WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! Susan increased both the tempo and force of the swats, quickly administering four sharp swats to each cheek. His bottom began to turn a deeper shake of pink. David gasped, yelled, and swore into the pillow as the paddle burned and tormented his exposed back side. His rear was stinging badly now and he felt moisture beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.
WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!! Susan moved lower this time, catching the underside of his buns with four brisk strokes each. She wanted to make sure she painted his entire bottom a bright red by the time she finished with him. If David really wanted to be a disciplined husband, she was going to make very sure that he knew what he was in for.Tears were forming in David’s eyes now, while he gasped and moaned as the merciless hairbrush set his ass on fire. He hoped he wouldn’t cry, but the pain was so overwhelming.
Susan paused for a moment. She had followed Aunt Kay’s advice to begin with sets of four and then eight before proceeding to the main spanking, a warm up to make sure the shock didn’t overwhelm him. David did appear to be over the initial shock. His head was buried in the pillow and his breathing was heavy. He seemed to have accepted his fate and given in to the ordeal to come.
So Susan got down to business, peppering David’s quickly reddening bare bottom with a nonstop rain of wooden terror. She made certain no spot went unpunished, painting his entire rear and upper thighs a colorful collage of pink, red, and purple.
David braced himself when the swats resumed, hoping he could endure the next set without totally losing his composure. But the terrible hairbrush kept coming, viciously attacking his tortured bottom. The stinging pain was overpowering, nothing like he had ever imagined. Somewhere around the twelfth swat of the latest barrage, he finally gave in and pleaded, “Susan, please stop! I’ve learned my lesson. I swear!”
Susan only replied, “Stop!? Hon, I’ve only just begun. I’m going to make damn sure you know what you have coming to you when you don’t listen to me! And I’m going to make sure you keep on remembering every time you sit down for the next week.” At Susan’s pronouncement of an extended sentence, David completely lost his composure, kicking, begging, pleading, and screaming as the paddle continued its relentless and savage assault on his battered buttocks.
Susan was not at all sympathetic to David’s plight. She briefly considered that she must have a natural inclination for this sort of disciplinary dominance. She was definitely experiencing a sense of satisfaction from the damage she was inflicting upon David’s now red bottom, as well as his dramatic repentance.
The paddling continued unabated. Susan worked the hairbrush repeatedly over every square inch of David’s glowing backside. She alternated cheek to cheek, thigh to thigh, top to bottom, then delivered several swats to a chosen sweet spot, before moving to the next.
David was lost to all but the searing, burning pain of the wood against his skin. He had tried to be strong and resist it, but it was too much. Finally, he gave into it. Tears turned to sobs as the paddle continued its seemingly unending dance across his severely tormented bottom.
And as David began to sob, Susan decided he had learned what a real spanking was all about. She knew this had been his fantasy, and she also knew that he was surely shocked by the reality of what he had asked for. His bottom was a solid red, spotted with purple bruises. He had kicked and screamed, begged for her to stop, and now was sobbing openly. Certainly, he must have had no idea of the truth behind his fantasy.
She completed David’s ordeal with a dozen swats, the hardest yet, all to the exact center of his bottom. David’s sobs became gut wrenching, but it was finally over. Slowly he had recovered, as Susan gently rubbed his bottom, and then taken him into her arms.
He found himself reflecting warmly on that first spanking, in spite of the awful pain to his backside. He vividly recalled the soreness he had experienced when sitting for the next several days. David’s reverie was suddenly interrupted by the clammer of the telephone. It was Susan calling on her cell phone to let him know that she would be home shortly and that he should assume the waiting position, meaning that when she walked through the door he would have to be standing naked in the corner. It was one of a number of traditions that had been established during his last two years as a disciplined husband.
David wasted no time stripping and heading for the corner. She would be home in no time, and he certainly did not want to earn a switching by not complying to the disciplinary rules Susan had set. A switching, in addition to whatever spanking he had coming anyway, had become the expected punishment for failing to follow the rules of discipline. David hated the switch the worst of all, and Susan knew it. So, she had reserved it for what she deemed the most serious of offenses, failure to immediately comply with her disciplinary instructions. If she allowed any slack with this, she knew he would soon become unmanageable. And she did not allow any slack at all. She showed absolutely no mercy when she had to use the switch on him, and David tried his best to make sure she did not have to use it often.
Momentarily Susan came in the front door and was immediately all business. She removed the hairbrush from her purse before setting it down.
Susan began, “David, how many time have you been spanked for ranting, bitching, and whining — five or six times? Well, obviously you are not getting the message. And I’ve really had enough of it. So, I’m going to try extra hard to make sure you get the message today. Just so you know what to expect — you’ll be getting the hairbrush and the strap. We’ll see if that will get through to you.”
David’s heart sunk, turning into a pit of fear and terror in his gut. His usual punishment was an over-the-knee hairbrushing, and occasionally a standup session with the big paddle or the strap, but, with the very rare exception of a switching for resistance, he’d never received an over-the-knee spanking and a standup spanking. The dread of his forthcoming ordeal was nearly overwhelming. It took all his will power not to argue, but knowing that arguing would add a switching to his punishment helped him to merely acquiesce and say, “Yes ma’am”.
Susan sat on the couch and said, “Come here, David.” David walked to stand on her right side, knowing the drill all too well. Susan looked somewhat irritated and asked, “And what do you say David?” David gulped and realized he should have asked for his punishment without prompting. It was another of the rules that Susan had implemented over time.
He quickly stammered, “Susan, I am so very sorry for ranting today. I know very well that I should have controlled myself. Would you please spank me, as long as hard as you think necessary, to help me learn to behave properly in the future?”
Susan answered simply, “Very well,” and tapped the brush against her leg. David quickly laid himself over her knee. Susan promptly repositioned him, wrapping one leg around him. And Susan immediately went to work, drowning his bare bottom in a veritable deluge of hard, stinging whacks. Lecturing him the whole time, she paddled his quickly reddening backside nonstop. As David had asked in the ritual request for his punishment, she did indeed spank him long and hard, administering perhaps two hundred cracks of the brush before finally finishing in a fierce volley that left David heaving and sobbing.
Still sniffling, try to regain his composure, Susan had led David to the corner. There Susan had ordered him to stand, hands at his side, and not to dare even think of rubbing his well blistered bottom.
His reprieve was short-lived, however, as Susan shortly returned with strap in hand. It was an old-fashioned razor strap, one that she had found rummaging in through an old chest in her parents’ attic. It was now kept well-oiled and ready for use. David had felt its bite a good dozen times before, but never immediately after a paddling. His bottom was still stinging and burning as Susan ordered him to assume the position.
David could barely stand the thought that he would be whipped again so soon after the very thorough paddling he had just received, but he did not hesitate, not daring to risk a switching also. So, he bent over the back of the spanking chair, grasping the seat firmly with both hands.
Susan wasted no time. As soon as he was bent over, the strap cut through the air and landed terrifyingly across his upper thighs. David literally screamed in agony.
But Susan showed no sympathy. Again and again the strap sliced through the air and cut into David’s already well-spanked bottom. By the time the twentieth stroke landed on his scourged rear, David was almost incoherent with pain and sobbing vociferously. His bottom was a jumble of red, black, blue, and purple. Bruises and strap marks intermingled.
Susan paused there, briefly wondering if she had perhaps gone too far. But remembering the advice given to her online by another disciplinary wife — better to err on the side of severity if you really want to make your point, she told David, “There will be five more. I want you to remember with each one what this punishment is for. I expect you to take control of yourself. I do not expect to hear any more of your ranting, bitching, and whining ever again. If I have to spank you again for this, God help you. Do you understand?”
David managed, between sobs, to reply, “Yes ma’am, I understand.” And then Susan delivered her final five cracks of the strap, each one finding its way across the middle of his very well-spanked bottom. And when it was over, it was over. The debt was paid, penance was done. Susan helped David up and held him, gently rubbing his burning rear. David sobbed, both from pain and emotional release. “That’s ok,” she whispered, “it’s all done now. I’m sure you’ve learned you lesson well this time.”
EPILOGUE
After David had recovered somewhat, they had gone out to their favorite restaurant. And despite some not inconsiderable discomfort sitting, David found himself in quite a good mood. The food, drinks, and service were excellent as always at the small steak house. However, it was so much more than that.
He sipped on his drink, reflecting. He had just received perhaps the most severe spanking that Susan had ever given him. Yet, he was content and satisfied. The air was clear. There had been no arguments or anger. He had misbehaved and Susan had lovingly disciplined him for it. He had taken his punishment and all was forgiven. It was over and done with.
He glanced across the table at Susan with warmth in his heart and a twinkle in his eye, realizing how much he loved this woman. She was not just his wife, but his lover, best friend, and soul mate. She did so much for him, took such good care of him, made him laugh when no one else could. Yet she would not hesitate to turn him over her knee and blister his bare bottom until he cried like a well-spanked schoolboy, if she felt his behavior merited it. And suddenly he realized, just as Susan had predicted, he did love her even more.
Here are some thoughts on why, in my opinion, this story exemplifies some common themes in these relationships.
It reflects the reality of how many of these relationships begin.
Many of the DWC fiction stories began with a fed-up wife imposing the disciplinary relationship on a reluctant husband. Others reflected a fully-baked DWC relationship, in which the wife’s authority was already fully established.
Even More was one of the few stories depicting a husband finding the DWC website and the embarrassing and painful aftermath of that discovery. I’ve come to find that scenario — in which the husband either discovers something like the DWC or has a strong pre-existing spanking interest that morphs into a desire for real, imposed discipline — is far more true to life than stories in which the wife is into the idea and imposes it on the husband.
If you are wired to want this, you almost have no choice but to seek it out.
David has some pre-existing spanking interest, but up until he discovers the DWC, it’s just garden-variety kink. The disciplinary aspect is something totally different. Darker. Deeper.
He had read with almost morbid fascination Aunt Kay’s section on techniques, in which she advocated bare bottom, over the knee spankings, delivered long and hard with the legendary hairbrush. When hubby was finally let up, she had postulated, his eyes should be wet with tears, his knees quivering, and his bottom very well blistered. Her concluding remark had been, “The longer and harder you spank, the more he will love you for it.”
That final remark haunted him, touched something deep and dark far down in his soul . . .
That description is exactly how that quote from the DWC hit me. As the author says, it was “haunting.”
The embarrassment, and vulnerability, are palpable.
The prospect of tears and a blistered bottom truly did scare the hell out of me. I couldn’t imagine experiencing such a thing, yet I couldn’t stop imagining just such a thing.
David discovers the DWC, becomes obsessed, feels compelled to bring it to his wife’s attention — and is embarrassed to his core the whole time. He presents a light-hearted front, but inside he’s a bundle of embarrassed nerves.
Even when a husband and wife have played with erotic spankings, there is something very different, something much more ego-threatening, about asking for real disciplinary spankings.
It’s not the difference in severity. It’s the difference in the very foundation of the relationship and the power structure within it.
David knows deep down inside that he’s suggesting something that, if made real, will be relationship-transforming.
That first disciplinary spanking isn’t realistic, but we so want it to be.
David goes over Susan’s knee for that first “real” spanking and ends up a sobbing mess. It’s so much worse than anything he expected.
For me, the first time was much more anticlimactic. The hairbrush wasn’t heavy enough. The OTK position was awkward for two first-timers. I was nowhere close to tears.
Yet, even with what was a mild spanking compared to what I get today, the shift in the power dynamic was real. For both of us.
Those first tentative, embarrassing discussion lead to self-discovery and better marital communication.
I’m sure that there are women who are born to these roles and actively seek them out. However, more often it is the man who has these deep-seated desires, and the wife goes along as an accommodation or maybe sees it as just a kinky little something to explore.
Then, something changes. Maybe it’s about giving something entirely new a chance and finding it surprisingly hot. Or, maybe it’s about discovering something that was always there.
David and Susan start experimenting with erotic spanking, and she soon gravitates to the top role. David then discovers the DWC and proposes it to her. Her quickness to embrace it wasn’t exactly what I experienced. My wife probably did think the whole thing was a little weird at first.
But, it was surprising how quickly she got into it once she got past the initial, natural inhibitions that most of us feel about exercising power over another person.
The thing that makes the whole relationship transformation work is communication and open vulnerability. David opens up and makes himself incredibly vulnerable in the process, which allows Susan to embrace the fact that she likes exercising authority.
They laughed together, and with the ice broken, talked for hours about their desires, and the details of their arrangement. David was able to confess his most secret fantasies, and Susan was able to admit that their spanking play had sparked something she didn’t know was in her, a passion for disciplinary dominance.
“Be careful what you wish for. You might get it.”
David works up the courage to ask for what he thinks he wants. He gets it. For his relationship, it’s great. For his butt? Not so much.
The first spanking sucks, and it gets worse from there. Yet, no matter how bad they are in the moment, he knows he won’t give them up.
But he would not end it and they both knew it. Despite his genuine dread of the excruciatingly painful paddlings he received bare bottom over Susan’s knee, he did not really want to give them up.
That’s been my experience as well. I never, ever want real spankings, but I have a deep need for them.
That need is both emotional and practical. Something in David wants the dark, scary aspects of being subject to his wife’s authority in such a real way. I feel him.
I also need it at a very practical level. There are times, usually when I’ve gone through an unusually long stretch of uninterrupted good behavior, when I wonder if I’ve finally outgrown this need.
Right around the time I have that thought, I inevitably crash right through the guardrails and end up over my wife’s knee.
I hate it at the time but, as the spanking ends just like the story — with me loving my wife even more.
If you would like to discuss these issues directly but don’t feel comfortable leaving a public comment, feel free to reach out to me directly at dwc_husband@proton.me. If you’d like to be part of a wider discussion with others who are in this lifestyle or interested in exploring it, drop by a blog I’m associated with. www.disciplinedhubbies.com. The comments are moderated to keep out the crazies and the trolls, and participation by both disciplinary wives and disciplined husbands — or those who are interested in being one of those — is encouraged.
