We got home an hour before Mags was due to arrive. As soon as we got in the door I told david to change into panties and bra for his punishment and to stand in the corner until Mags arrived.

“No… not the bra!” he argued. Oh yes!

“You liked staring at that woman’s tits. Now Mags and I will stare at yours.”

“No! It’s not cool,” he persisted.

“david, this is my call. This is NOT a hard boundary. Other women have seen you in a bra. Why not Mags?”

“Because it’s so embarrassing!” he pleaded, clearly weakening. “And it’ll freak her out!”

“It’s meant to be embarrassing,” I told him. “and it will certainly not freak her out. Now do as you’re told. You have no say in this.” I was emphatic.

david grumbled but acquiesced. It was settled. For his lewd behaviour in the car he would indeed be receiving emasculating bra discipline in front of Mags. Besides, who’s kidding whom? He knew it was inevitable that he would be winding up in a bra in front of Mags sooner or later. It was just a matter of time. But I do so enjoy his little rebellions!

david shuffled reluctantly upstairs and a few minutes later arrived back downstairs in his pink panty and pink bra with clear silicone inserts fully in place filling him out to a B or even C cup.

“You look darling!” I complimented him. “Mags will love it.”

I took him into the living room and put him against the wall. I went away to fetch a pair of wrist restraints, his ball gag, and a small Post-It note with the sticky part folded over. I came back and asked for his wrists which I proceeded to cuff and then fasten behind his back. I then slipped the ball gag onto him and tightened it down uncomfortably hard. I grabbed him by the back of the hair, pulled his head a little away from the wall, slipped the Post-It note between his nose and the wall, and gently pushed him back. I told him he was to stay there until Mags arrived and God help him if the Post-It note was on the floor or his punishment from me would be doubled, and he would still have his training to go.

I went about my business while david struggled to hold position and stewed about being seen for the first time in his bra by Mags. Mags was due to arrive in 45 minutes, but she was frequently a bit late owing to her work schedule. He might therefore be required to remain for up to an hour being disciplined in this manner.

Mags was about 10 minutes late, so he must have been standing there just under an hour when we heard the doorbell ring. I went to open it myself as david was otherwise occupied. Despite being humiliatingly brassièred I’m sure he welcomed the physical relief the long awaited doorbell ushered in, and the “can we just get it over with” mental relief as well. I showed Mags into the living room where david was being punished.

“Oh dear!” She said. “What’s he doing? Is that a bra he has on?” First thing she noticed.

“Yes, a very pretty bra holding up a pair of nice plump breasts,” I said. “david’s in the doghouse and is being punished for real. No joke this time. He’s been standing there for about an hour already. And you seeing him in his bra, and seeing what happens to him next, is part of his punishment, if you’re willing to stay and watch that is. You can train him right after I’m done with him. Is that ok?”

“Sure. No problem.” She said. “What did he do?”

“We were driving in the car,” I answered, “a woman walked by and he very obviously stared at her breasts. I mean, he positively gawked at them. She might even have seen him doing it out of the corner of her eye. The car behind had to honk at him to get him moving!”

“Oh My God.” She said. “With you right there in the car?”

“Yes, with me right there.” I answered.

“What was he thinking?” She asked rhetorically.

Yes, what indeed was he thinking?

I picked up the belt and told david to come out from the wall and stand facing me. He was very red faced. Bra and panties. Ball gag. Hands restrained behind his back. Sore and stiff from his disciplining so far. He could see me holding the belt, his further instrument of correction, in my hand. Mags had taken a seat on the couch when I called him out of the corner, and was looking on with a distinct smirk on her face.

By lill josephine to my exacting specifications. She did such a good job this time because I made her stand for 30 minutes in the corner for her shoddy previous attempt. See her Corner Time post.

The scene was almost exactly (uncannily in fact) like the sketch above. Our outfits are bang on and our relative positions as well. I think my little sketch slut outdid herself this time. david was positively squirming in embarrassment as we ogled his tits the way he did that woman in the streets.

I started in on the “scolding” phase. This is part of david’s fantasy always, to be “well scolded” by me before his spanking. How wonderfully humiliating for him to have to stand there like that, subject to the full bra and panty treatment, unable to say a word or raise a hand, and be scolded by me in front of Mags. And what’s worse, knowing he is about to be severely spanked by me, his own wife, while another woman looks on, across the seat of his panties with a man’s belt no less.

I laid into him over his behaviour in the car. Saying how disrespectful it was to both the young lady and to me. I told him he had the ball gag in because I was absolutely not interested in hearing any of his lame excuses. I told him he was in his bra and inserts in front of Mags so he could learn what it was like to have breasts and be gawked out.

“Do you like his tits?” I asked Mags.

“Oh, they’re lovely.” She said.

“Nice and firm and big,” I said as I squeezed one in my hand. “How do you like having your big tits stared at?” I asked him.

“Mmmmph” he mumbled into his gag.

I thought I’d scare him a bit more. I told him I was very concerned over his hyper-sexualized behaviour towards woman. I asked him if he thought he needed to be put into chastity, into a cock cage, to learn to control himself? He vigorously shook his head “no, no, no!” (he has a fear of that device!).

“I don’t know, what do you think, Mags?” I asked her.

“Maybe it’s the only thing that will work.” Said Mags, playing along. She evidently knew what a cock cage was.

“Is that what you want, david? For me to put you into chastity? To have me have to walk around with a little key around my neck? For you to have to beg me every time you want to masturbate? Is that what you want?”

david again shook his head “no no no” making matching pitiful noises through his ball gag.

“Fine. Not this time then. But if I catch you doing this again you will find yourself right back here, I will pull down your panties and I will put you into a cock cage right in front of Mags. How humiliating would that be for me? To have Mags know that my husband has to be kept in a cock cage to control his behaviour in public. And believe me, if I put you in it you won’t be out of it for a very long time, mister. A very long time. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

“Hmmmm! Hmmmm!” said david, nodding his head up and down..

“And don’t think you’re getting off Scot free this time either. You will go across the back of that couch, and I will sizzle your rear-end with my belt. Do you hear me? I will SIZZLE IT! Now MOVE!”

With that, david practically ran over to the back of the couch and lowered himself over it. Mags moved to the side to make room for him. With his hands tied, he went far over until his forehead touched the seat and his feet dangled in the air. It looked quite uncomfortable for him but presented his ass and upper thighs perfectly for heavy downwards strokes of the strap. He was also not going anywhere until either Mags or I helped him up, which was not for a while yet.

I was a bit worried about the stability of the position, so I asked Mags to stay seated on the couch and push his bound arms against his lower back to hold him in place for his belting and to prevent him from reaching back and covering his ass.

“This is for staring at woman’s breasts in the street. I’ve punished you for things like this before. Now you’re really going to get it!” I told him.

With that I whipped the doubled up heavy brown leather belt hard against his pantied ass. The end of the belt perfectly connected with the low center of his far ass cheek right at the lace leggings with a loud CRACK. david shrieked in pain from behind his ball gag. Mags eyes looked excited! I remember having the thought at that moment wondering if I could tear up his little panties with that belt.

Why did I let him keep his panties? Oh, he would be losing them soon enough, and they really did nothing to protect him from that heavy belt anyways, especially as most of the skin around his sit spots and thighs was bare at any rate. But I just like “the concept” of spanking the seat of his panties and only later pulling them down to reveal the extent of the damage.

Now, about belts. For those of you who don’t realize it, there’s a real difference in belts. Some belts are quite light and have a more whippy effect, others are heavier and have a more thud-like effect. This belt was one I found in a store that was advertised as a “heavy-duty men’s belt”. I bought it specifically for the purpose to which it was now being put. This is a belt made for punishing errant husbands, no two ways about it.

I gave him twenty hard strokes like that. Some to the seat of his panties, some down lower on the bare skin of his low ass and upper thighs, some aimed across both cheeks, some concentrating more on the near cheek, some deliberately “wrapped around” to his far flank or into his crack a bit. Each stroke was met with a muffled shriek. There were vivid marks and weals wherever bare skin was exposed. I was hitting him hard enough that it was an effort for me. To make it convincing for Mags I knew I had to step it up like this.

Half way through he was begging and saying “I’m sorry!” and “Please!” through the ball gag. I think there was no doubt left that this was for sure a “real” punishment session for david. Fully witnessed as well. Despite the pain and humiliation, it is what he craves and needs. Mags was clearly excited by it. As he was carrying on the most at one point she said “won’t be doing that again, will you?” As per her temperament, she showed absolutely zero remorse for him as he was being wife-beaten like this for his sins.

After his first twenty I paused and walked over up to him. I pulled his panty down to have a look at his bare ass. It was already well marked and would be bruising. I asked Mags what she thought. She thought I was doing a great job and she doubted he would be staring at girl’s in the street after this.

I left his panty down and concentrated another dozen zingers across the middle of his bare ass. The center of his ass took on a solid dusky hue with all the belt strokes intermingling there. Vivid rectangular marks, angry red and starting to bruise, radiated outwards from that.

I removed his panty entirely off his legs and told him to spread. His legs were shaking as he spread them.  I finished him up by standing directly behind him and bringing the belt down vertically along his ass crack.

Delivering a good whipping to the crack. Christine Justice in “Domestic Discipline” (c) 2005 Shadow Lane Video

I tried to to get as far “inside” as I could by angling the belt slightly as it came down. His legs kicked in the air like a little dancer. I had to warn him to keep his legs spread as they had a tendency to almost involuntarily come back together after each of these strokes. I did not blame him for this. Those legs can have a mind of their own during an intense belt whipping session.

I think these vertically placed strokes are very very punishing, smacking down with such force on such tender “inner cheek and thigh” skin. I can tell he’s near his limit when he mutters “oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no” into his ball gag anticipating the next stroke.

Ladies, in case you want to try these vertical strokes at home, you need good aim to steer clear of his balls and asshole, neither of which you want to tear up with a belt this heavy. As well, when playing with a ball gag you still need a safeword. For us it’s saying “red red red”, three short distinct grunts whose pattern and tone we practiced long ago. Was not required this time.

In total he had received about 50 strokes of the heavy leather belt, none of them light. He was breathing very heavily through his nose. I picked up his panties and pulled them back up his sore legs and ass. Mags and I helped him to his feet.There was considerable watering of his eyes, snot, and saliva around the ball gag, and he was sweating profusely. The ball gag and awkward “ass high” position definitely adds to the punishment aspects.

As he stood there, still bound and gagged, he squirmed on the spot, trying to alleviate some of the thigh, bum, and crack pain he was feeling. When I examined him later that evening, some of the worst bruising was on his inner cheeks nearest his crack and surrounding his asshole. Those were particularly painful for him next day, whether moving or sitting.

I unfastened his gag and pulled it off. He moved his jaw painfully. He had been ball-gagged for well over an hour. I unclipped his wrist restraints and removed them from him. I told him that I hoped he’d learnt his lesson. He assured me (and Mags) that he had and would never do that again.

As he stood there squirming in his bra, I thought the brassièring was a big success as well.

His breasts and bra reminded him constantly of the “why” of this punishment. When he was in timeout and his breasts were mushing against the wall I am sure he was thinking about the reason he was being punished: inappropriately staring at womens’ breasts. When he was displayed to Mags and teased about his bra and breasts and felt up by me, it also no doubt drove the lesson home. And when he was bent over the back of the couch, breasts dangling, undergoing a severe disciplining from my belt, then too no doubt.

With these thoughts running through my mind, and in light of his earlier defiance, I asked him if he thought it was fair and appropriate that he was put into his bra for Mags to see for his punishment today?

“yes ma’am” he answered.

“Tell me why,” I prompted. “Use your words.”

Sniffling, he said “It was fair and appropriate because I was staring at a woman’s breasts and so it’s only right that I have to have breasts also as part of my punishment for that.”

He’s so articulate, saying this as he stood there, wiggling on the spot with his brassièred chest well displayed to us ladies.

It was a crazy vibe. It felt super real. I had acted my part well, and david had absorbed what could only be described as a “real” punishment (I mean, if you asked me to punish a male, for real, that is exactly what I would do to him). Mags was smirking at him, and at at the same time looked impressed. I’m pretty sure she thought it was real.

I told him he was dismissed and he may go upstairs to put his gym clothes on as he had a training session with Mags yet to go. As he left the living room and was on the stairs I shouted after him, “You can put a T-shirt on, but the bra stays on.”

He paused on the stair and said “Awwww! Please!”, but he was none too convincing standing there in his bra and panty!

“Bra stays on, mister.” I said. “You can feel what it’s like to exercise with breasts.”

I put up my hand and Mags and I high-fived. I told her not to go too hard on him, as he had been pretty well punished already and I wasn’t sure how much more his bum could take. Mags agreed that it was a pretty fierce belt whipping and that he for sure learnt his lesson. She promised she would only use her hand on his bum for this session, which is very unusual for her. david and I both thought she preferred to not get that intimate and thus favoured the implements. Guess not.

david reported back that the exercising was the usual degree of difficulty, but that the spankings between sets were not that rough, and were indeed delivered by her hand to either his pantied or bare butt.

He also said that as he was bent over with his bare bottom waving in the air at her insistence she would run her hand over his buns and comment on how good a whipping he had received from me. Much to his embarrassment she even spread his cheeks slightly to survey and comment on the bruising nearest his asshole. Ha Ha! And remember, Mags is just barely in her twenties. She’s just a kid and treating my late thirties husband like this. I know this adds greatly to the humiliation factor. Zero sexual interest from her, total punitive interest!

Nothing more was said about his bra while he was being trained by Mags, however, david felt acute embarrassment throughout, and especially as he did certain exercises, such as push-ups, that impacted his breasts, or jumping jacks that made them jiggle.

And so that’s what a subby hubby gets who can’t control his wandering eye. Between Mags and I, I think young women walking the streets of our city will finally be safe from any eye-rapings from my man, at least while I’m around! After such an epic and emasculating punishment, I fully expect that next time he spots attractive women in the streets that his eyes would immediately respectfully and submissively lower as they passed. Or else.

Don’t touch. Don’t even look. Eyes down, mister!