Melissa’s Journal
Well, my wonderful husband Jack asked me to begin writing a journal about how my training has been going, so of course here I am writing. I want to be a good wife and make him happy, so I like when he asks me to do things to please him. I love to do as he says—he knows what’s best for me. I am sitting at the kitchen table nude except for white ankle socks – which is what Jack thought would look good on me today. He has asked that I write about my first training session, which was about 3 month ago.
I try not to get upset when I think about the beginning—how I used to disobey Jack and not understand that he always has known what is best for me. He understands it’s tough to write about my former disobedience, and is gently stroking my head right now telling me it’s okay, that I am a good wife now. He just wiped a tear away from my cheek so I don’t stain the journal—he is so wonderful.
At first, he gave me my special training powder without me knowing it—disguised in drinks. Only later when my training was further along did I understand how important the powder was for me, and by then he was mixing it into Gatorade right in front of me while I waited obediently. The powder relaxes me and makes it easier to learn how to be a good wife and a good girl. And oh how so important it is to me to both for him.
My first lesson was on a Friday night, right after he got me nice and relaxed with my training powder (secretly mixed in a glass of Chablis). After the drink, I was feeling a bit lightheaded when he began telling me I had been disappointing him lately, and that I needed to think about my poor actions. I thought that was not fair, although the training drinks really made me open up to his points—and I begin to vaguely wonder if he might be right. But in this beginning I did not see that clearly, and began to talk back to him. (Oh god I can’t believe I ever was so disobedient and disrespectful to him—he was only worried about my well-being, and I had been so stupid and selfish not to have understood that. I am starting to cry again and he is gently patting me on the head telling me I am a good girl now, and to continue my journal.)
Well, he kept telling me I needed to learn how to be a good wife. After about 10 minutes of his continued blunt statements about my poor sexual behavior and how I was not a good wife, I was confused and in tears—I didn’t think I was a bad wife, especially in sexual ways, yet I must be, yet I wasn’t, yet I had to be –back and forth in my confused and scared mind I went. I could not help but remember when Jack and I were dating, and he had often told me how he found me so beautiful—h has told me often how he loves my slender figure, shoulder length sandy blonde hair (that I often keep in a pony-tail), and especially what he said was my ‘girl next door’ wholesome look. At 5′5″ I came right up to his shoulder and he said that was perfect for keeping his arm around me when we walked. And since we have been married we had sex at least every week or so, and on our anniversary I even let him keep the lights on. And of course I was not the type of girl to give oral sex (or let him give it to me—‘yuck’ was my thinking at the time), that was for slutty girls. But I loved to cuddle with him (except when he would get an erection and start pawing at me).
The first lessons were definitely the hardest I ever had. After a few more minutes of listing off my failings as a wife, he told me that I was to be punished. He then told me to take off my shoes and pull my pants off (I was wearing a pair of navy blue Capri slacks—I remember so well, not only because it was such an important lesson, but also because I hardly ever wear pants anymore—when told to wear clothes good wives wear pretty skirts and dresses). I did not realize yet that a good wife always obeys her husband, and told him that I did not want to take my pants off. Without the training drink I would have been flat out yelling at him and demanding he go see a counselor or our minister, but luckily the special powder in the drink was helping to moderate my selfish behavior. Part of me felt that maybe I should be obeying him, but my old disobedient nature was still pushing back. So I stood there, just looking at the floor (oh how I would do anything to take that moment back again and not have been so disrespectful of his wishes).
He then reached over and unbuttoned my slacks for me, and began to pull them down my legs. When I tried to stop him, he gently held my hands and told me to be a good girl and to relax. Over and over he continued telling me that a good wife should obey her husband and that I needed to have my pants off. It was sad that I was acting so poorly that he had to slip my shoes off and pull the slacks off each leg without my help. As I stood there in my panties, (my blouse still buttoned, and of course my bra was on—can you believe I used to think good girls always wear bras? Even when they have little ‘B’ cup titties like mine). He then gently but firmly led me to a dining room chair and bent me over his lap, with my bottom up -just like a schoolgirl about to get a spanking. Of course I was still not trained at this time, and stiffly tried to push away from him and stand again.
Well, he didn’t hold me down, but he kept a gentle pressure on my back with his left hand, while with his right hand he slowly pulled my panties down until they lay around my ankles. He was not hurting me or even being forceful—it was more of a firm, gentle control. The entire time he kept telling me I needed to learn to be a good wife and that he would help me learn, that I needed to relax and obey. Even while part of me tried to pull away, part of me was obeying—I was like a stiff statue, bottom up in the air, and every now and then I would halfheartedly try to rise but each time respond to the gentle pressure of his hand and lay back across his legs.
He now explained that he was going to spank me 10 times, and that after each stroke I was to count out the stroke number and say “I want to be a good wife”. He told me this over and over again as he gently rubbed my bottom. I finally told him, although quietly crying, that I would obey. He then raised his hand and gave me a quick smack on my bottom. He struck so suddenly that I yelled out, and forgot to count. He gently rubbed my bottom again as he softly explained that the stroke did not count, and we were going to start again. (He really is a great teacher, and was using such a nice and warm voice that I now really appreciate his taking his time like that). Well, he gave me another smack, and although I cried out, I quickly followed by saying “One”, and then “I want to be a good wife!”. He gave me words of encouragement, and continued the spanking, with gentle rubs on my bottom between each stroke. When we finished the ten I was in tears, and my bottom was bright red and stinging sharply. But I had finished them correctly, and even though I had tears coming down my face, when he praised me for being a good girl a shot of warmth surged through my body!
He then walked me over to the nearest wall (I shuffled since my panties were still around my ankles), and told me to put my nose against the wall and to pull my shirt tail up so that my bottom was clearly in view. He left me like that for a few minutes while he grabbed his camera and took pictures. You can see two of these pictures taped in the very first page of this journal—one of me taken from the rear showing my bright red bottom, panties around my feet and me holding my shirt up around my waist. The other is from the side, which clearly shows me softly crying, my nose against the wall, and you can just see some of my unruly pussy hairs protruding from between my legs. Believe me, that is the last picture of me with pussy hair. During my very second lesson on my way to becoming a good wife Jack asked me to shave my pussy, and although still learning to obey, I did a thorough job. Since then I get it waxed regularly.
For the next part of my lesson, Jack sat me down at the kitchen table and put this very training journal in front of me. It was totally empty at the time, except the cover, which said in block letters “Melissa’s Training Journal”. He told me to turn to the first page, and handed me some notes he had made up beforehand. He told me to copy his notes into the journal exactly as he had written.
The notes were a list of how a good wife acted. I don’t need to look at that page in the journal to recite them again—they are second nature to me now that I am so well trained, and I love repeating them whenever I can. (Jack has me recite them each evening before bed. But I often find myself saying them to myself throughout the day just because I love him so much.) The notes I copied into the journal read:
I want to be a good wife.
- A good wife always obeys her husband. He knows what is best for her.
- A good wife loves to please her husband, especially in sexual ways. There is nothing she would not do to please him.
- A good wife understands that her body belongs to her husband and that she is his sex toy. Her body is made for his enjoyment, and she is elated when he uses it to please himself.
- A good wife loves her husband’s cum. She loves its taste, its smell, and its feel. She is overjoyed to be allowed to have his cum in her mouth, on her body, in her pussy, or in her bottom.
- A good wife always strives to stay fit and sexy for her husband. She is always willing to display her naked body when he asks, even in front of others or in public.
- A good wife loves to be praised by her husband. She especially loves when he pats her on the head or calls her a good girl.
I want to be a good wife.
After this I signed my name and dated the page, just as he told me to.
I was not sure at all about what this meant when I first wrote it, but the entire time I was writing he was telling me what a good girl I was being, and every time I thought about stopping, his praise kept me going, making me feel warm inside. What confusion I felt that first time!
After I finished writing, he had me carry my journal and led me to the hallway leading into our bedroom. (I still had the panties around my ankles, so I again had to shuffle as he led me.) He laid out my yoga mat in front of a full length mirror we have on one wall. (Originally when I asked Jack for such a mirror, he tried to put it into the bedroom. Well I stopped that—I was looking to check out my clothes and how they matched my shoes and stuff like that, not trying to see myself naked—that was gross. How silly I was back then). He told me to take off my shirt and bra, and kneel on the mat, with my bottom resting on my ankles, facing the mirror.
At this point I remember again thinking how something was very wrong. As I faced the mirror after taking my shirt and bra off, seeing myself standing there with panties around my ankles, shirt on the floor and holding my bra in my hand, I knew that this was just wrong and dirty. I turned away from the mirror and began putting my bra back on, telling Jack that I was a good girl and that good girls just did not get naked with the lights on like this (and especially with a full length mirror in front of them!).
Jack was so understanding—he said he only wanted me to be comfortable and happy, and that he knew I wanted to be a good wife for him and that I was a good girl. As I put my bra back on and reached down to pull my panties up, he gently put his arm around my waist and handed me a glass of something to drink, and told me that I was a good girl and that I should just take a drink for him and then I could finish dressing if I wanted to. Well, this made sense to me in my confused state, so I finished pulling up my panties and then quickly drank what he had given me. I then picked up my shirt, but for some reason I didn’t put it on—I just continued standing there. He was now gently stroking my bottom and back and telling me what a good girl I was, and how much it would please him to see me naked again. He understood my fear of not being a good girl, but in fact being naked was being a good girl, he told me. And being a good wife would always make me a good girl.
Well, luckily the second drink he gave me (with more training powder of course) made me relax again and be able to see how correct he was. He just had such a way of talking to me and explaining all the things I did not understand well yet. As then he quietly said that he hoped I didn’t need another spanking for disobedience.
Well—that shocked me—I realized how bad I was being, and that I was not being a good wife or a good girl! I was making him feel he might have to punish me again—how horrible of me. I quickly took my bra back off, and then slid my panties back down around my ankles. Oh my joy when I saw him smile, and he even kissed me on the forehead as he told me that I was being a good girl again and how happy it made him. I must have been blushing up a storm I was so excited by his praise.
As I sat down on the mat facing the mirror, he laid my journal with my notes in front of me. For the next half hour he had me look at myself in the mirror and repeat the notes about being a good wife. I am happy to say that I didn’t even have to look at the notes after the first few minutes—I was able to stare in the mirror at my naked body and keep repeating what a good wife was, over and over and over again.
After the half hour was over he helped me up and had me stretch my legs, and then led me gently to the bathroom where I urinated as he stood beside me. Sometime during my time in front of the mirror he must have taken his clothes off, because he was standing naked right beside me with his dick next to my mouth. I have to say that I couldn’t help myself but to turn and kiss his dick right then! Gosh the old me would have been horrified at his penis right next to my face—while sitting on the toilet no less! But already, even without him asking, my new training was kicking in and I just couldn’t help but know that he would like me to kiss his penis. He said I was being really good and that he would let me kiss it more once we got to the bed.
He led me to bed, and had me lay beside him with my head near his stomach. Well, I couldn’t help but see his cock—now much fuller and harder—so I gave it a quick lick! I was so proud that I had now twice touched his cock to my mouth—something unmentionable pre-training. With his instruction, I actually took it in my mouth and began sucking on it! I gave him the best (but I know now very amateurish) blow job I could. When he started to cum in my mouth it was so new to me I couldn’t help but gag and spit out the cum back on his belly. I lay there for a second, as he spoke to me, and though I am kind of foggy as to what he was saying, somehow I felt that I should taste the cum to make Jack happy. Now there was a good amount of cum on his belly, and even a bit still on his cock. I must have lay there frozen for over a minute looking at this cum. I had always thought cum to be one of the most disgusting things you could ever see, much less taste, yet I could not pull myself away. I kept remembering rule #4—A good wife loves her husband’s cum. She loves its taste, its smell, and its feel. She is overjoyed to be allowed to have his cum in her mouth, on her body, in her pussy, or in her bottom.
Slowly, I drew closer to the cum on his belly, until I finally hesitantly licked a few small drops into my mouth. Now I am not going to lie and say I suddenly loved the taste of his cum. In fact, it was just as gross as I thought it would be—but I realized that really wasn’t the point—I was pleasing Jack, and deep inside I did know I loved cum—I just wasn’t used to it yet. As I began tasting more and more of it I realized how silly I have been all my life, and finished up by licking his cock completely clean, and even sucking on the head to get every last drop. I was very proud of myself, and Jack was patting me on the head telling me what a good girl I was—life was so wonderful.
A little later Jack had me turn over on all fours and he fucked me from behind. While he was fucking me he put a finger (or two?) up my bottom. My what a feeling—it scared me but also made me feel proud that he was using me like that. I felt like such a slut, which was a GOOD thing, and it felt so good. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like with his dick up my ass someday—I knew deep inside he would want to do that—it scared me but I knew I would make it available to him when he wanted it-how could I do otherwise?
After he finished fucking me (I still can’t believe I wrote the word ‘fucking’. It is a word I would never have written or said just a few months ago) he asked me if I would please be a good girl and lick his dick clean of my pussy juices.
I really am beginning to feel better writing about this now, because my actions at this point were much better behaved. With only the briefest hesitation, I began gently and lovingly licking his cock. I made sure it was very clean and even spent time on his balls and licked his pubic hair clean to make sure I got him all cleaned up.
We ended up that first training session cuddling together before we fell asleep. Jack kissed me softly and held me in his arms, telling me what a wonderful girl I had been and how happy he was with my training. I was gushing with pride! And although I had a few minor setbacks later in my training, I never again questioned Jack’s authority, and there has never been a day since then that I did not offer my body and soul to him.
Jack says that is enough writing for today—my younger sister Susan just pulled up to the house. I helped Jack begin training Susan last month, and today we are going to have some ‘family time’ as Jack calls it. I love family time because I can tell Jack loves it so much. And now that Susan is pretty well trained she and I get to please Jack together—but I guess I will have to write about that later-