He Learns about Miriam's Discipline

After I'd been married for only a year, I sensed that I was constantly complaining about my husband's behavior. Where I tended to keep my things, especially clothing, neat and orderly, Brad threw his dirty laundry all over the place and seemed to have assumed that someone would pick up after him. He also criticized me if I didn't get home before he did in time to make dinner for both of us.

And if when we went to bed, I wasn't interested that night in his overtures, he began to sulk and act as if I had rejected him for no good reason. I decided to take this up with him, knowing from before we were married, that he had another side to his personality.

I had seen that Brad could be totally submissive. I began to think that his efforts to shame me or just his affected attitude of superiority were just that: attempts to cover up his own nature. So I took the offensive and confronted him.

I told him point blank that I had had enough of his sloppiness and presumption. I went on to say that I felt we were equal partners but that he had forfeited any right to be in charge and that it was time that I took the lead. Then I dropped the bomb in terms of awakening his other side.

"You need to be disciplined when you misbehave," I declared. His face registered his amazement but my ploy worked.

"You're right, Susan," he confessed. "All my life I've sought to deny this side of me, but I do need a strong woman to take charge and it should be you."

I wanted to preserve both our marriage and my good nature. This meant, I thought, that I would not play the role of disciplinarian in our household. I had a better idea.

"Brad," I responded. "I'm very pleased that you recognized what the issue is for us and I intend to make this work. But instead of my taking on the task of disciplining you when you need it, I'm going to assign that role to someone else."

My husband looked both surprised and somewhat fearful.

"How can that work, Susan?" he asked, not in a challenging way but a questioning manner that was asking for an answer.

"You of course know my friend Miriam," I began. Miriam is a woman of about 40, who dresses nicely but not in any way in high style, and has lovely auburn hair that she normally wears in a ponytail. She has a good figure but, again, she is not overly endowed in front nor pulchritudinous in her rear. She is married to a man slightly younger than she is and I happen to know, because we are really good friends, that she dominates him in the bedroom. You would never know this, however, because there is no sign of that in her bearing or the way she and her husband Tom relate.

"You probably don't know that Miriam totally dominates Tom in their bedroom," I went on, as Brad listened with his amazement clearly evident on his face. "I intend to keep track of your behavior and when I feel you need correction, I'm going to send you down the street to Miriam to provide it."

You need to understand that Miriam and I are opposites in so many ways, it is amazing we are such great friends. I'm a financial consultant and she is a high school teacher. She always appears demure and I'm not one to hide myself behind a dull exterior. I don't dress flashily but I like nice-fitting blazer outfits and stylish skirts that show off my legs.

Miriam once disclosed to me, however, when I asked her if she felt her bedroom life was good, that she had had to take some steps to "make it work." I asked her what she meant by that.

"Susan," she said calmly, "you may see me as a high school teacher with little ambition and less personality because I don't tend to be outgoing, but this little lady turns into someone different when I let myself go...in the bedroom. Tom and I roleplay for example. I'm still a teacher, but I'm that teacher with her hair in a bun and severe outfits including seamed stockings of whom you were afraid in school. If the school allowed teachers to spank, I was the one from whom you feared a spanking. And I might be the one who failed you on your report card by one point and circled it in red so that your mother would give you that well-deserved spanking when you brought it home."

We went into her bedroom and she showed me her wardrobe with her "real teacher" outfits and also her arsenal of implements for punishment: a few canes, straps, paddles, tappets, little rods, nipple clamps, bardex nozzles, and other somewhat exotic things. I was taken aback only because I would have thought Miriam had the most normal or even unexciting sex life. After all, her husband was nice but not any Cary Grant and she was not a looker.

"This also does permit me to let out some of the frustration I experience at school every day when I have to deal with these kids who don't want to learn and think they can act up without consequences," Miriam explained.

I responded by thanking her for being so honest and open with me. I told her that I was going to be equally up front with her. I explained how Brad had been behaving and how I felt he needed disciplining and that he agreed. I added that this was not something I felt I was very good at but that I now saw more than I had anticipated that it was her cup of tea.

"So would you be willing to discipline my husband when I bring him or send him to you?" I asked with a smile. I expected she would probably like the idea but I also assured her that there would be no sex involved, in case that was looming as a problem.

"There will be no sex," I stated, "but short of intercourse, you may humiliate him in any way you like, including any kinky stuff you find enjoyable. I'd like to see how this works in the beginning but after that, I would like to send him to you and merely ask you to let me know what happens."

"Do you think he will respond to me playing a teacher?" she asked. "After all, it's what I'm best at."

I answered that that would be fine but that she might consider also playing his dominant female boss at work or a bossy nurse controlling him in the hospital, or any other similar role she wanted to essay.

Miriam grinned and thus indicated she was more than amenable to this project.

"Susan," she said with a smile, "let me be straight out with you about my current life in the bedroom. I spank Tom and I also strap him and sometimes cane him. Sometimes I'm the angry teacher and at other times, I'm cool and collected. He knows, by the way, that when I'm reserved like that, I am likely to be far more dangerous.

"And tell me if any of this offends you," she added, still smiling. "We both like water sports and I enjoy things like anal insertions (on him). He also satisfies me by performing orally on both my front and rear openings. And sometimes I decide to dress him as a schoolgirl. When I do that, he always, by the way, is unsure and may worry that I will take him outside so others will see him in his outfit, which is complete with a wig."

"Miriam," I responded, also smiling, "I love it. And if you want him to lick your pussy or your bottom-hole, that's perfectly fine with me. I want you, though, to be able to talk to your own husband about this and explain that neither of us envisions that this will be a sexual relationship, and by that, I mean fucking."

Two days later, we met for coffee and Miriam assured me that Tom was on board.

"I think he almost likes the idea that I'm getting a chance to make someone else toe the line, even if it's not in the bedroom per se if you get my drift," she explained with a curious look that I enjoyed.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you in action," I ventured. "Don't worry about my getting involved. I promise to observe only," I said in a very calm tone that belied by excitement underneath, actually underneath everything, especially my panties, where I knew how wet I was getting at the thought of seeing Brad put through his paces by a new Miriam—new at least to me.

That night, when we were in bed, I mentioned to Brad that all was in readiness with Miriam. I told him that I would likely be there to observe his first session with her and that I alone would decide when that would be.

I didn't rush to get this started. On Thursday night, three days later, I told Brad he had left his undershorts, which had skid marks in them, on the bed.

"I'm not picking up your dirty drawers," I said, "and this is the kind of thing for which you will be disciplined."

On Saturday, I reminded him of the several errands he had been assigned. When he returned in mid-afternoon, I saw that he had had a beer or two, and he had not picked up my cleaning nor the groceries I had told him to get. I then told him that now he needed to go to the drug store and buy my tampons.

He grimaced at that and I added, "If you give me that look again, I will make you get the female cashier at CVS to sign the receipt and tell her that the tampons are for your use."

There had been enough misbehavior by Sunday that I prepared the discipline form for Miriam and put in a small envelope, sealing it, and handing it to Brad. I telephoned Miriam to let her know we needed to see her and she told me to come right over.

"You will give this to Miriam," was all I told him.

Inside was a nice little note in which I said he had misbehaved several times and needed an introductory punishment session with an emphasis on embarrassment rather than pain. From our conversations, I knew that she understood what I had in mind.

When we arrived Miriam was dressed perfectly. She had on a severe white blouse with ruffles and a grey flannel skirt, with dark seamed hose and smart burgundy pumps. Her auburn locks were pulled up in a bun and her nails gleamed red as did her lips.

"Give her the note, Brad," I ordered.

Brad shamefacedly handed Miriam the note. He then repeated what I had instructed him to say: "I've been naughty, Miss, and my wife would like you to punish me so I will be a good boy."

Miriam knew that I now would merely observe and let her take things from here. She immediately ordered Brad to unbuckle his belt and lower his khaki trousers. My husband duly complied with her order, as well as her next one, which directed him to take the trousers off. Then she came behind him and pulled down his boxer shorts. He already had an erection, which stuck out because my husband has a nine-inch cock when erect.

"Take those off," she said, pointing to the shorts, "and put these on," she snapped, as she handed him a pair of what looked to be small pink panties. He did what she said and now had the tight panties all the way up, barely constraining his cock inside the front.

Miriam sat down on a straight chair and beckoned him to her with her little finger.

"You will learn that in my class, I take off points every time you misbehave. That includes talking out of turn, passing notes, or looking up my skirt or any of the girls' skirts," she said sternly. "Then I average your test grades and your classroom performance and deduct the points for misbehavior. Right now your term grade is only three points above passing. If I have to take off any more points when you are naughty, you will get a failing grade on your report card."

Now he was across her skirted lap. Miriam had pushed up her skirt so that I could see her plain white shiny panties but Brad could not. He did see her seamed stockings as his head was below the chair and when he turned his head, he could then see her panties and probably the wet spot in their crotch.

Miriam began to spank him over his panties. She gradually increased the tempo and strength of her spanks until I could see him grimace at each spank. Then she rather ceremoniously pulled down his panties and my usually stoical husband actually pleaded with her not to pull his panties down!

"Oh, so you like wearing panties?" she inquired with a sneer. "I guess when you're getting spanked, any protection is desirable."

But she resumed the spanking with fervor and I was surprised at how red his buttocks had become so quickly. She then reached across the table behind her and retrieved a small plastic bag. I realized that in it were a few carved ginger sticks. Brad was going to be figged, something he had not previously experienced, at least as far as I knew.

Miriam put a plastic glove on her right hand and told him to hold his bottom cheeks open. She inserted her gloved finger in his bottom-hole to ease the way for the ginger which would follow.

"You will now get something put in there," she said, "that will keep you from clenching."

Then she put the tip of the stick of ginger at the entrance to his anus and slowly pushed it through his anal ring up into his anus, with the end of the longish ginger sticking out in a most embarrassing way.

Miriam then had him stand and face me, which embarrassed him as he knew I had observed how she had inserted something that stuck out of his asshole. While he was looking at me, and blushing, Miriam reached under her short skirt and removed her white panties.

She told him to kneel in front of her as she sat down again on the straight chair with her legs apart. She placed the panty crotch right under his nose and told him to ingest her intimate scent.

"You like pussy smell, don't you?" she insinuated as he sniffed in response to her order.

"Now get under my skirt and sniff my real pussy and lick me down there," she continued. "If you don't do it just right, you will lose three more points, boy, and then anything more will have you failing for sure."

After a few minutes, Miriam ordered Brad to get out from under her skirt and stand up. He did just that and it was almost comical to see him facing her with his cock in full erection pointing up toward her.

"I'm doing you a favor and only taking off one point because while you licked all right, you did not bring me off," she said plainly.

"Now bend over that hassock there," she said, pointing to the low furniture.

Brad bent over the hassock and Miriam reached for a thin cane she had on the sideboard behind her chair. She stood over him and lay the cane right across his red posterior.

Then she drew it back and with only a slight flick of her wrist, snapped it across the middle of his bottom. I winced as I watched it strike the reddened flesh of his bottom and then heard him scream as I had expected he would.

Miriam seemed impervious to his scream. She drew the cane back, fired it yet again, this time at the higher part of his cheeks and again he screamed. Finally she gave him a last stroke toward the base of his bottom, near where his bottom met the thighs, a very sensitive place for anyone.

This made my husband scream out and reach to rub his sore bottom.

"Get those hands away!" Miriam scolded him.

Brad looked chastened, tears in his eyes.

"Yes, Miss; sorry, Miss," he apologized.

Miriam now bent over the hassock herself. What was this about? I asked myself. Was she going to submit to castigation?

Immediately, I was put right. Miriam quietly told Brad to get under her skirt and lick her in the rear.

"I want to feel that tongue deep inside my bottom-hole," she directed.

Brad knelt behind her and did what she had ordered. He told me later that Miriam had some hair back in there and that there must have been traces of her last bowel movement, as well as that characteristic musty taste when his tongue got inside her anal ring. His nose was filled, he said, with the smell of shit.

After a while, Miriam told him to move back and she turned herself around and now perched herself on the edge of the hassock, facing Brad who was still kneeling in front of her.

"Now get back under my skirt and put your mouth right over my lips down there but do not use your tongue," she prescribed. "I just want to feel your mouth tight on my labia."

Brad did what he was told and then was surprised when a warm stream of Miriam's pee emerged and went right into his open mouth. Somehow she must have managed to cut it off because she managed to control it so he did not have to move away and no pee flowed over his mouth.

"You can stand up and face me," she then declared. He again followed her instruction.

By now, as I watched as Brad seemed jump, shifting his weight from leg to leg, I realized that the fig was having its effect. Miriam noticed it too.

"Oh, is my little insertion bothering the big boy?" she cooed.

She came behind him, told him to bend over, and grasped the part of the ginger stick protruding obscenely from his anus.

She wiggled it and he now screamed as the juice from the stick must have really stung him inside his sensitive rear hole.

Now Miriam slowly withdrew the stinging little stick and looked at it. It was slightly smudged with some fecal matter that must have been inside Brad's rectum.

She smiled and told him that he would lose one more point for that and now he was one point above passing.

I could see that Brad was becoming increasingly nervous. He did not know what the punishment would be for earning a failing grade but I could tell from his face that he hoped to avoid that this first time.

Miriam smiled and told him to pull up his panties.

"Susan," she said to me distinctly, "I think this naughty boy has been sufficiently disciplined today. I hope when you get home he does something special to make you want to forgive him for his misbehavior."

Brad was told to put his trousers back on over the panties.

"They will remind you that if you need to be sent back to me, you will be punished more severely," Miriam warned.

"Susan," she added, "you may want to keep him in panties for a while. I also have some Spanx you may borrow if you feel he needs more training." She gave me a package and told me there would be more if I wanted them.

Brad knew he had to behave now so he thanked Miriam for taking the time to discipline him.

"I really appreciate your willingness to assist my wife in showing me that I will be punished when I misbehave," he said very calmly and seemingly sincerely.

When we got home, Brad asked me if he had to keep the panties on. He said they were tight and uncomfortable against his sore bottom.

I smiled and told him to take down his trousers.

Then I pulled his panties down, gave his red bottom a playful slap that made him wince, and took the panties off.

I reached under my skirt and pulled off my own panties. I handed them to him and told him to put them on.

"I think you need to wear my soiled undies for a while," I said, "and don't put those trousers on. I want to see you in my panties. I think we may have you wear panties all the time."