A simple slap, and my life changes radically. Sometimes, fate hinges on small things. How did I become submissive husband to my magnificent wife?
We had been married for seven years. An ordinary couple, my wife worked in a small, innovative company in marketing, while I was a high school math teacher. I had an average physique; she was more than ravishing. I marveled every day at having such a beautiful woman by my side.
Year after year, she worked harder and earned more, while my teacher’s salary stagnated, and my days remained punctuated by classes, few actual working hours, and assignments graded fairly quickly. I had plenty of free time and spent much of it doing little.
Our sexual relations were very conventional and, ultimately, less and less frequent. I sensed she wanted something else, but the few suggestions I made didn’t satisfy her.
For a few months, certain topics had become sources of conflict. I contributed very little to household chores, and as my wife worked more and more, she grew tired of seeing me idle while she busied herself at work during the day and at home in the evening. A classic patriarchal situation in those years.
Our evenings of conflict were becoming more and more frequent.
A Slap That Changed Everything: My Wake-Up Call in Marriage
And then it happened, on a Sunday evening. She had spent nearly the entire weekend cleaning, doing laundry, ironing, and cooking. As for me, I had simply mowed the lawn, contributing my share to the effort, proud of those two hours of mowing.
That Sunday evening, she asked me to set the table, and I foolishly protested, still sore from the mowing and claiming I was doing a lot, maybe too much!
I think she was at her breaking point, exhausted and irritated by the bad faith I was displaying.
As I stood behind her, boasting about everything I had done that weekend, I saw her straighten up, turning toward me, and I felt the slap before I even saw the gesture.
I stood frozen, and so did she. She seemed even more surprised than I was by her action.
I looked at her, realizing in a second the pathetic attitude I had been displaying and the luck I had in having such a wife.
Before she could speak, I stammered apologies, lowering my eyes. Red with shame, shame for my behavior, shame for having taken that slap.
As she was about to speak, likely to apologize for her action, she stopped herself upon hearing me profusely apologize, seeing me blush and lower my eyes. I only learned much later, but she felt a strong, instantaneous sexual excitement and, above all, a sense of power that deeply unsettled her.
Silent Shame to Passion: A Night of Marital Transformation
We stood there for a moment, neither of us moving, the sound of the slap giving way to a heavy silence.
In my mind, I felt shame for daring to complain and, at the same time, a kind of peace, as if it were a culmination after years of searching for meaning. I wasn’t fully aware of what had just happened to me, and neither was she, probably.
I eventually went to set the table, quietly, my eyes still lowered.
The meal passed in silence, neither of us wanting to say anything that might reignite the conflict.
We went to bed in silence as well.
I lay on my back, still lost in my thoughts, naked as usual in bed.
My wife was turned on her side; I knew she wasn’t asleep. A moment later, she turned toward me, and without a word, her hand reached for my penis and began to caress it. I was about to speak, but her other hand covered my mouth, signaling that I should stay quiet.
She brought her face to my sex and began a blowjob that made me hard very quickly and intensely. She then pushed the covers aside and straddled me, her soaked sex engulfing mine. She rode me quickly, roughly, and came powerfully. I didn’t have time to come, but I received her climax as a real and profound joy.
She withdrew, turned away, and, I think, fell asleep.
From Passion to Laziness: A Marital Wake-Up Call
My cock was hard, rock-solid, throbbing alone in the air, wet with her juices, frustrated while my mind felt a well-being, I couldn’t recall ever experiencing. I fell asleep with my cock still erect, my soul at peace.
In the morning, we resumed our weekly routine, and our conversations picked up as if nothing had happened. I took it upon myself to participate more actively in daily chores, determined to show her I had heard the desperate message symbolized by the slap.
For a while, my efforts paid off, and I felt I was helping more. But as time passed, my natural laziness and inability to do certain tasks due to ignorance made her daily life difficult again.
One weekday evening, she came home very late, around 10 p.m. I was in the living room, sprawled on the couch, eating chips. There were crumbs everywhere.
She looked at me silently, her face expressionless. Then she spoke.
- “Do you really think that when I come home at 10 p.m. from work, I feel like vacuuming to clean up your mess, cooking a meal so you can eat, picking up the dirty laundry you left on the floor since this morning, or taking out the overflowing trash? I thought you understood that you also have reasons to contribute to the responsibilities of running the household. I thought you were going to make some effort. It seemed to me that after ‘the incident,’ you had realized certain things. I’m tired and disappointed. This can’t continue like this.”
Then she turned on her heel and went to bed.
A Night of Shame: Writing Redemption in Marriage
I stayed on the couch, ashamed.
I cleaned up as best I could and, not wanting to disturb her, spent the night on the couch. I slept little, wondering why I was incapable of helping her, of doing my share. When I finally emerged from that difficult night, it was late. She had already left.
I only had classes in the afternoon, so I continued my reflection. Finally, I decided to put my conclusions in writing to clarify my thoughts. I decided to write her a few words to apologize and share the results of my reflection.
After my classes, I cleaned and tidied everything I could, and I even prepared dinner. I had written the letter to give to her.
By 11 p.m., she still hadn’t returned. I left her place setting and the prepared meal so she could eat when she got home, left the letter prominently on display, and, went to bed.
In the night, I felt her come to bed, then I fell back asleep.
The next morning, when I woke up, she had already left for work.
Breakfast was ready, and a letter was placed where I had left mine.
I poured myself a coffee and opened the letter.
Submissive Husband: Facing Her Ultimatum for Discipline
“Thank you for your self-examination. It’s already a big step forward. I understand that you care about me, and know that this is very important to me. I also understand, from your letter, that the two main reasons preventing you from properly contributing to shared tasks are laziness and ignorance.
This honesty in your words does you credit.
If you truly want to, I can help you overcome these two obstacles, but for that, you will need to genuinely commit to improving, to want it beyond a mere small effort.
To be frank, there are two possible options for our relationship: either separation or, in your case, discipline and education. I’m jaded and no longer believe in other solutions.
I hope you understand the meaning of these words, discipline and education. If you are not disciplined, I will discipline you. If you are not educated, I will educate you. Think carefully, and take the time to thoroughly evaluate what you truly want. If staying by my side is your absolute priority, I accept it, but with discipline and education. Otherwise, we will part ways; others have done so before us.
Know that I will be uncompromising in either case.
It’s up to you to decide if you want to become a submissive husband.”
Submissive Husband: Embracing Her Discipline with Hope
I must have reread the letter ten times. I found in it the hope of staying with her, the fear it instilled in me, and a certain disturbance, almost sexual. Reading the words discipline and education, I found myself getting hard, unable to understand why.
I didn’t hesitate for long. What would my life be if I could no longer gaze into her marvelous eyes, smell her scent, touch her skin, revel in her climaxes?
I sent her a message on her phone without delay: “Thank you for understanding me and offering me the chance to grow by your side to become a good submissive husband. I accept the discipline and education you propose with humility and motivation. I kiss you tenderly, your husband who loves you.”
My day was radiant; I felt like I was emerging from a dark cave and seeing the light.
I hadn’t realized my wife’s capacity to follow through on things.
When my wife came home from work around 8 p.m. that Thursday, I was finishing cleaning the bathroom.
A New Dynamic: The Path to Submission
She came to see me and, looking at me, announced in a neutral tone:
- “I think we need to talk.”
Then she went to the living room, where I joined her a few moments later.
- “I received your message. I’m not sure you fully realize the path we’re about to take… but it’s your choice, and mine too. So here’s how I see things. Next weekend, I will begin your education as a submissive husband, meaning teaching you the tasks you don’t know how to do or don’t do properly. We’ll start with cleaning, laundry, and ironing. I’ll show you, and you’ll do it. If you don’t make enough effort, our relationship will end.”
I couldn’t stay silent in the face of this statement and dared to interrupt.
- “I won’t be able to live with the constant threat of our relationship falling apart. I’ll make efforts, I guarantee it, but living under that threat all the time doesn’t seem possible to me.”
She stared at me for a long time, saying nothing.
Embracing Discipline: The Pact of the Submissive Husband
Finally, she spoke again, with some emotion in her voice.
- “I understand. Of course, that’s not what I want, but if you slack off, if you do things poorly, what can I do? What means do I have to compel you?”
She paused for a moment, searching for her words. I could sense she was slightly aroused, a bit flushed, as if ideas were coming to her that she didn’t dare or want to voice.
- “What means do you give me?”
That last sentence held the answer, but she wanted it to come from me. She knew I knew; we both knew that the incident had triggered something irreversible for her, that sexual excitement, that sense of power, and for me, that sense of acceptance, that meaning it gave me, that feeling that her direction was the right one. I had no reservations, and, no shame when I told her what she wanted to hear:
- “I give you the means you want. If that involves unpleasant constraints, I accept them. Let’s be honest with each other: the slap I received put my mind in order, and I humbly tell you, in hindsight, I found it appropriate and deserved. If you’re okay with punishing me as you see fit and it doesn’t cause you any issues, I accept it. The slap had a limited effect over time; perhaps punishments when necessary will help me stay a disciplined submissive husband.”
A Vow of Submission: Redefining Love as a Submissive Husband
I looked at the floor as I said these words, but when I raised my eyes, I saw she was flushed with emotion, moved, and I was certain, very aroused by my words. She spoke again, her voice unsteady and marked by emotion.
- “I need to think about it. The slap I gave you wasn’t intentional. It happened suddenly, without me thinking about it. Disciplining you intentionally is something else. I think I’m capable of it. To be truly honest, since you’re being so genuine, and I sincerely thank you for it, not only do I think I’m capable, but it’s possible it won’t displease me. But you need to understand that this will have consequences for our relationship, for how we relate to each other. I won’t look at you the same way, and you won’t look at me the same way either.”
I knew all this. I had thought about it; I also knew our relationship had to change or end. She knew it too. So I had to make her understand I was ready for that change.
- “I know we won’t have a conventional relationship anymore. Be assured I’ve thought about this at length. My desire to stay with you is strong and clear. For that, I’m ready, and since we must call things by their name, I’m ready to submit to your will. Yes, I’m ready to be a submissive husband, because that’s what it’s called. I’ll accept the consequences. I’m ready to always look at you with love, adoration, admiration, but also a certain fear, great respect, and to live in obedience, to serve you as you deserve, and thus to endure whatever it takes for that.”
Sealing the Bond: A Submissive Husband’s Devotion
She looked me straight in the eyes.
- “I didn’t expect you to have already thought so deeply about the likely evolution of our relationship. I’m surprised, pleasantly surprised, by the work you’ve done on yourself, on us, and especially touched by the almost unconditional declaration of love you just made to me.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, and I knelt before her, taking her hand and placing a gentle kiss on it. I felt in my place like this, the place I should now occupy. Everything was happening quickly, but the sleepless hours had illuminated this path, the only one possible with her given my laziness, and my weak willpower.
We stayed like that for a while. She was seated, her eyes misty and looking into the distance, and I was at her feet, holding her hand as if to not lose her.
She spoke abruptly:
- “Are you hard?”
I looked at her, smiling.
- “Yes.”
She smiled too and said:
- “Go to the bedroom, get naked, lie on your back!”
I got up and did as she asked, a velvet command.
She came in shortly after, naked, and immediately positioned herself above me, engulfing my cock in her soaked pussy. She moved quickly, as roughly as the last time, rubbing her pubis against me, riding my cock with fervor, her head thrown back and her eyes elsewhere. Her magnificent breasts danced gracefully before me.
- “Stay hard, don’t come!”
Ecstasy in Submission: A Submissive Husband’s Devotion
She sped up even more, rubbing harder and harder. She leaned forward, scratching my chest, and, pinching my nipples. I focused on restraining my climax, holding out as long as possible. She was moaning, soaking my lower abdomen with her pleasure. I had never seen her so wild, animalistic, filled with raw pleasure.
Finally, she tensed, and I felt her entire abdomen crush, grind my cock in a spasm that seemed endless. Her moan came from deep within, low, as her breasts pointed proudly toward the sky, her mouth gasping for air, every muscle in her body taut to the extreme. Her thighs crushed mine, her hands tore at my pecs, her abdomen wrung my cock, which fought to stay upright, hard, hers.
Then she collapsed onto me, as if lifeless, barely breathing, motionless, and silent for long minutes, while my cock, still hard, dared not move in its soft, wet haven, pulsing to the rhythm of my heart and cradled by hers.
Her scents, sweat, arousal, and perfume, carried me to paradise. Her warmth enveloped me. Her climax fulfilled me even more than the fleeting pleasure of my own.
I held her in my arms, and she nestled into me, grateful.
We stayed like that for a long time; my cock eventually softened and slipped out of her pussy naturally.
She fell asleep, and I stayed awake, soaking in this moment of peace, the warmth of her life, the beauty of her languid body, the rhythm of her breathing, the beating of her heart, greedily absorbing everything that was Her.
To be continued
