by David Saxon
Title Page
TRAIN MY WIFE!
By
David Saxon
Kinks Books is an imprint
of W&H Publishing LLP.
Publisher Information
This ebook edition published by Kink Books is an imprint of W&H Publishing LLP, Foresters Hall, 25-27 Westow Street, London, SE19 3RY.
Digital edition converted and published by
Andrews UK Limited 2011
www.andrewsuk.com
Previously published by The Olympia Press PO Box 148, Ryde, Isle of Wight, PO33 9BE.
Copyright ©David Saxon
The right of David Saxon to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This ebook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by the way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, electronically copied, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent.
Chapter 1
It is of little consequence that you should know neither my name nor my history such as it is. To my clients I am, quite simply, the Counsellor. Perhaps it is a strong kink in my nature, a fever in the blood that has ordained in me a wilder course of life. I recognised something frightening in the conventional order that follows the course of a placid stream out into the rolling oblivion of the ocean void. In me was a desire to live dangerously and I was quite well equipped to confront the jagged rocks and treacherous shoals of change and the excitement of the unforeseen.
Let us agree simply that human nature is about as bad as it can be and on that universal premise I have made it my humble lot, as a counsellor, to redress the balance between the romance of domestic virtue and malicious pleasure enshrined in the words of a great author, ‘God damn my wife. She is an excellent woman but I wish she was in hell.’ Since I made the decision a small but select group of such excellent women have passed through my seemingly modest Academy, brought to account for their appalling attitudes to their husbands and lovers. My objective is to make them thoroughly amenable to their husbands and thereby to bring back into their family life a spirit of adventure rooted in the delights of the flesh.
One day when returning from a trip to collect a very special pedestal, a robust piece of discipline equipment designed to hold a client rigid with her bottom well presented for treatment, I heard Kerry, that excellent woman, shouting at her husband with unbridled anger. So much contempt and hatred was there in her voice that I decided it was time for me to intervene. How appropriate was it that she should be the first to test my new gadget? I could think of no one better suited to it.
I had passed her house a number of times and, too often, hearing her bawling voice rising in contempt, had fought hard against charging right in there all guns blazing. Hearing her laying down the law with such vehemence made me want to crash through the front door, drag her out by her hair, fling her into the back of my car and take her to the Academy for some very severe treatment. Her attitude to her husband was getting out of hand. Kerry Roget needed to be seriously dealt with. She was the kind of woman in the treatment of whom I excelled as a counsellor.
Fortuitously I had met Dominic, her husband, in the Cat and Fiddle one night a few days later, drowning his sorrows. I had known of their existence for some time but only in passing, having neither visited their home nor met them socially. I had, however, been close enough to witness Dominic’s sad decline. Here now I was presented with the golden opportunity to do something about it. In a cosy corner of the pub, after some minor pleasantries, I put forward my proposition. It is always a delicate thing, to intervene between a man and his wife but this is, after all, my avowed purpose in life. And I was not a little in demand.
Once I had broken through Dominic’s natural defences and got him talking it was clear from both the evidence I already had and from what he added that Kerry was obviously blind to everything except her own selfish needs and was, therefore, well in need of my particular brand of counselling.
Throwing tantrums, so often the feminine way of getting what they want, was to Kerry a successful habit. Her barbed and merciless tongue was alarmingly proficient.
As Dominic continued to unburden himself it was becoming increasingly clear that I would enjoy bringing such a recalcitrant woman to heel. I explained to Dominic that my task as a Counsellor was to make permanent changes to his wife by getting her to understand her position in the scheme of things. I told him that it often required weeks of careful management at The Academy, that the treatment is largely therapeutic and, so far, always successful. I did not feel the need to explain that my methods were sometimes pleasurable, at least for me, and often painful for the client. I assured Dominic that I could help him by restoring the proper balance in their marriage. “You must give me carte blanc and put absolute trust in me.” I told him.
At this he baulked rather but after a long reflective silence he looked up at me with a distraught expression. “Anything!” He was clearly at the end of his tether. “I just can’t live with her any longer. She is no longer the woman I married. The damned bitch is taking me for a fool and a sucker! Why the bloody hell has she turned into such an absolute cow? Why? Why?” He was close to a breakdown and, like a drowning man, was desperate for the lifeline I was throwing him.
Kerry, like so many women today, seemed to be possessed of the belief that she had a right to make life hell for any, including her husband, who fails to fulfil, to the very letter, her every wish. Her demands had become ever more unreasonable and, on occasions, downright outrageous so that Dominic, who was utterly devoted to her, was tied up in seemingly inextricable knots with the effort of just trying to keep her happy. How dare she, a mere woman, behave like this? She had reached a point in which all was take, take, take and no give. She was even refusing to give him the comforts of her own body and that, in my book, is a mortal sin. And, for Chrissake, the bitch would go ballistic if he ever dared to look at another woman. How dare she deny him the basic needs of a healthy man? What kind of bloody arrogance is that? Evidently she was suffering from an acute reluctance to maintain either a sense of perspective or understanding. She had to be made to accept that in all things there must be an understanding of the concept of moderation. As with so many who did abuse their husbands Kerry deliberately exercised the selfish belief that Dominic should ‘do as I say and not do as I do.” I wonder, in the telling, if Kerry was being unfaithful and getting fucked by some bloke, a friend of the family or a workmate or … but why should I care? My job was to bring her back to her husband and that I would most assuredly do.
Many women in today’s world have lost the understanding of what a partnership really means and it is that basic error which has allowed me to construct a niche in the market setting out to restore perspective and to renew the understanding between husband and wife. By disabusing those women of so fundamental a fault I am, in my own small way, contributing toward making the world a better place. I have created an environment in which such bullying tactics are turned on their head. I do this by making these misguided women understand that the image of the aggressive slave/mistress they have adopted so inefficiently is way out of line and distorts entirely the actual and very subtle relationship that exists between a professional Mistress and her clients. What these wives don’t understand in that the Mistresses on whom, it would seem, they try (unsuccessfully) to base themselves are the very people to whom discontented husbands go to for solace. I have learned much over the years from those women with whom I have had
cause to deal and, sadly, have discovered in some of them a streak of barbarism annealed with cynicism that it has been all but impossible to erase.
The true Mistress, magnificent creatures one and all are neither barbaric nor cynical. They are highly skilled and have an immense understanding of the male psyche. They are so much in demand today because of the Kerrys of this world whose inability to understand men and even to understand the very principles for which they, as women, are put on this planet, makes them unfit as wives and partners. In their ignorance, largely borne of arrogance, her kind of woman stupidly pushes their relationship to the limits of endurance with a ruthlessness borne of an astonishing belief in their own superiority. Kerry embodied that ugly trait. She had pushed the boundaries far beyond her knowing and achieved … what? She had lost her way and it was for me to guide her back on to the path of respect and care for her husband. I had to master her by whatever force I was obliged to use to broach her self-esteem.
It is, for my part, a pleasurable way of living though, because of the exciting physical contact, one has to guard against involvement, a boundary so easily and often unwittingly crossed. The relationship, necessarily intimate, must never be allowed to become emotional. I had to learn to inflict corrective licence dispassionately without involving the heart. It had been a hard lesson to learn because, in spite of everything, I adore women.
Not for the first time in my career as a counsellor I was fixing my sights on correcting a cross-eyed, ill- conceived notion now so evident in Kerry. Believe me I intend to use harsh means, as I have done with many previous clients, to relieve her of her delusions. She had to understand that on her present course she was achieving only the contempt and the alienation of her husband; hatred from those people, often of both sexes, close within her orbit and contempt from those who mayhap drift into - and thankfully out of - her orbit.
Her kind of woman despises the man they dominate and because of it their demands become ever greater and ever more unreasonable. Many wish to push their husbands into total submission and subservience, to subject them to the most demeaning slavery and humiliation or reduce them to penury while lavishing all upon themselves. It rather poses the question of why they had ever married. All this revolves in a vicious circle which I am well equipped to break. My orbit was going to cross hers and she was going to have a very wobbly time of it. She would wonder at the torment I would put her through and cry at the discipline as they all have done, but in the end she will thank me for the guidance and the enlightenment. It is ever thus in the way of women and Kerry needed to understand that she was but a mere woman.
I bought Dominic another drink or two to seal the bargain. Inwardly I was revelling at the very idea of getting his wife into my Academy and into my clutches. We parted on the understanding that I would be in contact with him once a week at an appointed time to provide progress reports.
Already I was picturing Kerry mounted on the pedestal which I had securely fixed to the cold stone floor of one of my cellar annexes. I envisioned her naked bum held high and well exposed to my treatment, whatever that may be, and however it might hurt. The physical pain I inflicted was generally mild because more than that was unnecessary. All that was demanded was to bring about the more exquisite pain of deep and measured humiliation oh, and a good measure of enforced sex. I knew well about the formidable power of the cock in bringing a woman to rights and I have a formidable cock.
Kerry Roget is not beautiful in the conventional sense of the word. Attractive rather than pretty, in the normal course of events, but she makes herself downright ugly by opening her beautiful eyes and firing daggers of contempt not only at her husband but at those many with whom she has but brief social intercourse. Then her mouth twists into a rictus of brutal disgust as if, like some regal but intolerant queen, like some Turandot, she beholds offence in those who cannot help her to move in the direction she wishes to go. She strikes me as a child of failed or wannabe aristocrats. I will strike her as a ruthless and brutal man because of the essential major changes that I shall be forced to impose upon her and that she so obviously needs. I intend to delve deeply into the very core of her being just as I intend to penetrate her luscious body and to examine the very heights of her pain threshold and the deepest of her desires. Be sure she will have secret desires and fantasies that she has not told her husband about. They are probably far removed from her regal front and are best left undisclosed, at least in her own mind. Perhaps there is some truth in that but it was up to me to decide. I shall delve deeply and select the desires that will best serve to please Dominic. What a pleasure that will be!
Her figure, though heavy boned had, in her youth, been magnificently slim and hourglass so that many young blades lusted after her. She had revelled in her popularity and that had seen the nurturing of her arrogance. She cared absolutely nothing for the emotional turmoil she often created in other women.
After childbirth her hips broadened and she allowed herself to run heavily to seed. What is it with women? They claw in their man with the trappings of beauty, love and delightful mystery then, with the gold band on the finger, resort to nastiness, viciousness and contempt. It is this social injustice that I am at pains to correct.
Women expect their husbands to look dishy at all times yet they let their own bodies decline into pudginess as Kerry had done or worse, into gross obesity for which they cite all kinds of lame and pathetic excuses and for which I can find no shred of justification. They have a duty to keep themselves well preserved. It was something that all my past clients had learned painfully and stuck to in peril of fearful retribution.
Kerry’s legs, lacking even basic exercise, (she had to be seen in her luxury, soft top sports car), are thick in the thigh yet, below the knee somehow managed to retain the suggestion of things past. In that past she would undoubtedly have worn high heels that stretched the calf muscles and created that pleasing line so trim in a pair of stockings, been acutely conscious of her appearance and absolutely and ruthlessly single-minded in the business of catching her man. I am sure that Kerry knew and had used each and every artifice known to womankind in the seeking, pursuing and catching of Dominic and, once having him in her clutches, railed at finding not the emergence of an idyllic life. Perhaps she had read too many fables and love poems by ignorant poets who knew nowt about the realistic demands of life which, necessarily, impose themselves on any marriage. If a woman wants romance in a marriage she must be willing to respond in kind. Kerry was well equipped physically for such a response and therefore only needed the imperative impetus of my instruction to bring it about.
Her best feature is her breasts, challengingly large and impressive and carried enticingly high on her chest. Of those I would be making good use in due course. Her shoulder length hair, any woman’s best cosmetic of which great care should always be taken was, these days, nondescript and untidy. This indicated a strange lack of pride in one so desperate to be seen in the right kind of company. To my horror she all too often scrambled her naturally blonde hair under one of those IQ reducing hats otherwise known as baseball caps. A damned baseball cap, for Chrissake! A struggling ponytail would stick out from above the crude plastic size adjuster at the back making it look like the afterthought it clearly was. She had got her man so why should she bother anymore? I could not imagine why Kerry’s inflated opinion of herself would let her neglect her hair so I assumed that it was another punishable demonstration of her contempt for her husband. She couldn’t even bother herself to look half decent, until of course, it suited her to do so. That was the kind of selfishness just begging for correction. I had had a number of clients in that frame of mind and thoroughly enjoyed disabusing them of it. Kerry’s submission, perhaps initially on the pedestal, will be gratifying indeed.
She had, too, abandoned all clothes sense. Appalling colour mismatches; poor style choices; wrong sizes. It was as if she hankered after eternal youth by putting herself into
garments two sizes too small and way out of her age group. No doubt she was condemning her husband for that inevitable loss as well. Inelegant trainers always completed the ensemble with, all too often, trousers or jeans that did nothing to show off her voluptuous figure.
And yet, with all these symbols of mismanaged childhood, she still walked around with an expression far more snooty than that of any aristocrat as if there was, constantly, a very bad smell under her nose. In a word she was what I chose to call piss-elegant and very well in need of being brought down not just a peg or two but a whole damned whirligig full of pegs. And I was just the man to do it. I rubbed my hands in anticipation of the fun times we were going to have together. Being a hands-on counsellor beholdens me to keep myself in the peak of condition. With Kerry I knew I was going to need all the stamina and strength I could muster. I didn’t need to step up my exercise regime, merely to adhere closely to it.
A propitious time for the start of this challenge came when Dominic, acting on my suggestion and at his wit’s end, walked out on Kerry leaving her and the children. It must have been a terrible wrench despite his having been goaded beyond reasonable endurance. It was gratifying to have such faith and trust put in me. Okay, better an empty house than a lousy housewife. Had I been in Dominic’s shoes I would have kicked her out long ago. But I am not Dominic. Let us just say I am made of sterner stuff. Oh, don’t get me wrong. His walking away from her, though prompted by me, had been in Dominic’s mind for some considerable time. It was only the kids that had prevented him doing it. He is a very honourable man. Well, now the time was upon me to start re-educating Kerry into being not only a willing but also an eager partner for Dominic. When I am finished with her she is going to welcome him back and willingly she was going to lay herself down for him and take him into her in whatever way he chooses, no holds barred. She is going to submit to his demands in the most loving way. That goal has always been my most sacred mission and I have, so far, never failed.