Monthly Archives: August 2012

My Journal Number 4 is published

My fourth journal providing detailed accounts of my life as a perverted dominant wife is now published in various formats. Here are the links generated so far: paperback Epub version

Kindle US,

Kindle UK,

Kindle DE,      Kindle FR,     Kindle ES,      Kindle IT,

Links to my other published journals.

Link to my published short stories.

Collar and Tube

Just as I am about to leave for work each day, bitch-boy, while naked, must kneel and kiss my footwear until I tell him to stop. You may recall he works from home. He is of course padlocked into his penis tube, via the frenum piercing – so that is completely inescapable.

I have recently got into the habit of padlocking a leather collar around his neck as well, using a plastic, uniquely numbered padlock (so he can remove it if he had to rush himself to hospital or some such thing.) He hates his collar. He must wear very high necked garments to answer the door or go to the shops and he gets very nervous about discovery – Delightful!

I had him sleep in the collar last night in addition to him having worn it all day. This morning when he stood naked before me, about to drop to his knees to kiss my footwear, I felt very powerful and wicked given the image of nakedness and the padlocked penis tube and neck collar. When I look down on him as he kisses, I can think of him only as a pet, a toy, a victim to me – his mean bully wife. Such an entertaining way to live – emotional highlights several times a day (as a minimum). In my vanilla relationships, emotional highlights were perhaps once each week or two, or even longer apart.


Rain and Car Washing

One of the rules is that bitch-boy must wash my car by hand every week, and vacuum out and dust the inside. This UK summer has been the wettest in living memory. Awful.

Yesterday, I ordered bitch-boy to go and do his weekly duty on my car. The car was fairly clean as I had been working from home for a few days and not using it. There was rain in the air and the forecast for the following day and week was rain, rain, rain.

bitch-boy meekly commented that the neighbours would think he was mad washing the car for it to immediately become dirty again.  He must of known what my answer would be.

‘That’s not my problem, go and get on with it.’