My Journey Into A Loving Female Led Relationship: Chapter 13

My name is John, though I go by rgjohn, and I’ve written a few erotic books and some content for Literotica. When Emma read my work, she suggested I write about loving, female-led relationships—a genre she’s passionate about. It’s been a while since I’ve written, but a fan recently reignited my interest by asking me to turn his detailed journal into a story. Initially skeptical, I found myself captivated by his account of a Female-Led Relationship (FLR), a concept I hadn’t explored before. With a mix of curiosity and research, I’ve decided to craft a multi-part story spanning over 20 chapters. If you are just starting, you should begin your journey back at chapter 1.

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Chapter 13: Shaving Pubic Hair, Spanking with Spatula, Pleasuring Anna in Kitchen,

I was surprised at how quickly Anna was adapting to her new role. It was almost scary. After Anna left the bathroom, I followed her instruction, feeling a bit like a schoolboy who had been chastised for poor personal habits. As I washed up, I called out, “I’m going to take a shower first, if that’s okay.”

“Sure,” she replied. “But while you’re in there, remember, don’t shave your face. Instead, shave off all the hair around your penis, balls, and underneath.”

I froze, thinking I hadn’t heard her correctly. I stepped out of the bathroom and asked, “What did you say?”

She looked at me calmly. “I said, shave off all your pubic hair, including around your balls and underneath. Completely clean.”

“You’re kidding,” I said, feeling self-conscious.

“I’m not kidding. If I can do it, so can you,” she said firmly. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Three demerits for questioning me.”

I shut my mouth and went back to the bathroom. Using an electric trimmer, I cut my pubic hair shorter and then finished with a razor to make the area smooth. When I was done, I was surprised by how clean it looked. I figured it would help with wearing the cage later, too.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist, Anna was sitting at the kitchen table with her coffee, reading through more documents. She had changed into jeans and a tank top. True to my infatuation with her, I immediately saw that her nipples were poking through the shirt, and her jeans hugged her lower half like they had been poured on. I had to will my penis to behave.

She looked up and asked, “What are you doing with that towel on?”

“Sorry,” I said quickly, returning to the bathroom to hang it up before coming back out, completely naked.

It felt strange, even vulnerable, walking into the kitchen like that, especially with no pubic hair, which made me feel more than naked. Anna didn’t seem fazed. She motioned me over and inspected my work using her hand to check the smoothness.

After a few moments, she said, “Nope, do it again. I don’t want to see a speck of hair anywhere. If you can’t get it right, I’ll do it for you. Five demerits.”

I sighed and went back to the bathroom, carefully shaving again. This time, I made sure to get every spot, even the top’s of my thighs and between my legs. When I came back out, I stood in front of her for another inspection. Again, I felt like a school boy being judged on how well I cleaned behind my ears.

This time Anna smiled as she ran her hands over the now-smooth areas. “That’ll do for now, but we may need to get you waxed or consider permanent removal.”

I swallowed hard. “I’ll get better at this, I promise.”

She nodded. “I hope so. You know what’ll happen if you don’t.”

Finally satisfied, she said, “I like this. You look cute all shaved and naked. I’ve never liked pubic hair on a guy… it just gets in the way.”

“Cute was exactly what I was going for,” I joked nervously.

I moved to the kitchen to start breakfast, pulling out eggs, sausage, and other ingredients. As I turned on the stove, I hesitated and asked, “Can I put on an apron so I don’t get grease on myself?”

“I suppose,” she said, smirking. “We wouldn’t want your little pecker burned.” There was an unmistakable emphasis on the “little” part.

I put on a bib apron that covered me from my chest to mid-thigh, leaving my back and ass exposed.

Anna giggled. Sitting only a foot away, she reached over and gave my bare ass a playful smack. “You look adorable in that apron,” she said with a grin. “I’ve never noticed before, but you’ve got a gorgeous, spankable ass, especially with a hairbrush.”

I shivered. From what I’d read, discipline was an important part of an FLR for many women. It had already started for us.

As I stood at the stove preparing scrambled eggs, I suddenly felt another sharp slap on my backside. This time, it wasn’t a hand… it was a lot harder. I jumped and yelped, reaching back to grab my right cheek. The sting was intense, especially since my ass had already been blistered by the hairbrush a couple of days earlier.

I turned to see Anna holding a rubber spatula with holes in it and a long handle, an amused yet stern expression on her face.

My butt burned, and I could already feel the imprint of the spatula. Without thinking, I blurted, “What the hell was that for?”

Anna’s expression darkened. “What did you just say?” she asked, her voice dangerously calm.

“Uh… I’m sorry,” I stammered quickly. “You just surprised me.”

“Get over here,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. “Bend over the table. You just earned more ten more demerits, and you are getting them now.”

If my memory served me right I already had twenty… now thirty.

“I said I was sorry,” I protested, which only seemed to make her angrier. I had agreed to this dynamic, but I hadn’t anticipated how much it would hurt, both physically and emotionally.

“Keep this up, and I’ll really blister your ass with this spatula. Now bend over the table. Right. Now.”

A wave of anger flared in me, but I quickly suppressed it. Nobody had ever struck me like this before—not my parents, not anyone. Yet the look in her eyes made it clear I’d overstepped, and I realized how much I didn’t want to ruin the progress we’d made.

“Can I… I mean… how do I apologize?” I said, my voice almost pleading as I rubbed the sting out of my cheek.

“You’ve got ten seconds, or you won’t be able to sit down for a week,” she warned.

I hurried over and bent over the table as instructed. Anna stood, spatula in hand, and positioned herself behind me.

“It’s time to address those demerits. You will never, ever speak to me that way again,” she said firmly before delivering a sharp smack to my other cheek. This was much harder than the first one

I yelped and instinctively stood upright, grabbing at the new sting. My cheeks were on fire.

“Bend over and stay there, or I’ll double the punishment,” she said.

I took a deep breath, leaning back over the table. “I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I know I need to be disciplined, and I want you to do it. I’ll do better.”

The words were difficult but truthful. This was what I had agreed to, part of the structure were establishing.

Anna nodded, seemingly mollified. Then she swung the spatula again, landing another blow just below the first. I gasped but stayed in place. She alternated between my cheeks, each strike delivering a sharp, burning sting.

By the tenth hit, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

 “Please,” I begged. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Please stop.”

“You’re damn right you won’t,” she said, though her voice carried less anger now. I wondered if some of her earlier frustration, possibly from work this past week, was fueling her actions.

She continued, landing swats on the top’s of my thighs and back up to my cheeks, ensuring every inch of my backside felt her discipline.

I lost track of how many times she struck me, I hadn’t counted. I don’t think she was counting either. By the time she stopped, my whole body trembled, and my backside was radiating heat. I could hear her breathing heavily as she set the spatula aside.

“You can stand now,” she said, her tone calmer. She was still breathing heavily.

I pushed myself up, grabbing my throbbing cheeks as I moved around the room. Tears streamed down my face, and I could feel the swelling. My ass was a mess of stinging pain. It was worse than the hairbrush.

I was startled when I saw Anna’s face… it was a look I’d briefly seen when she had spanked me with the hairbrush. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated, and her cheeks flushed a deep red. She was breathing heavily, but it wasn’t only from exertion. The sound of her breaths was raw and almost animalistic, sending a shiver down my spine.

Then Anna did something that shouldn’t have shocked me, especially after what she had me do after the hairbrush spanking, but it did. She stood up, unbuttoned her jeans, and slid them off, revealing she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She turned her chair toward me and sat down, spreading her legs.

“Eat me,” she said breathlessly. It was commanding with no nonsense.

I blinked in disbelief, still reeling from the spanking. But there was no hesitation in her voice, no room for protest. Swallowing hard, I dropped to my knees and moved between her legs.

She pulled my face to her, my wet cheeks smearing my tears on her warm thighs. I began to kiss and lick her, finding her already incredibly aroused. The fact that the spanking had excited her again made me realize that she was enjoying the discipline. Despite the pain in my backside, I felt myself responding, getting hard.

Anna moaned as I worked on her very wet opening before moving up to her swollen clit. Her excitement built quickly. I did my magic on her clit. It only took a minute before she was climaxing. She climaxed once, then again and again. By the time she pushed me away, she had reached five peaks, leaving her gasping and flushed.

I rested my head on her thigh, tears still falling from my eyes, though now more from emotional release than pain. I wasn’t sure what to say or how to feel. A moment later, I felt her hand on my head, gently stroking my hair.

When she finally spoke, her voice was soft. “I’m sorry I had to do that. You made me so angry. But I forgive you now.”

Despite everything, my heart lifted at her words. She wasn’t still mad at me. Grateful, I moved back between her legs, kissing her swollen lips again.

“Okay,” she said with a satisfied sigh, “one more.”

It was never just “one more”. I focused entirely on her, losing myself in the act of pleasing her. She climaxed several times, her juices coated my lips, chin, and cheeks, and I felt a strange sense of peace in giving her this pleasure.

When she finally stood, she inspected my backside. “Let me see,” she said.

I turned, and her sharp intake of breath confirmed what I already knew: my ass was a mess. Yet she didn’t apologize.

“Oh my,” she said, smiling slightly. “I think I did an amazing job for only my second time.”

I didn’t know how to respond. The pain was still fresh, but there was also a strange sense of satisfaction. I had taken what she offered and survived.

She touched my arm. “I need to learn how to discipline you without letting my temper get the better of me. I think the discipline will be more effective, more measured, that way,” she said thoughtfully.

I nodded, grateful for her acknowledgment. But I wasn’t sure how that would help me with discipline in the long run. It was supposed to hurt and I am sure she knew that now. She had gotten a taste of discipline and we now both knew it had excited her. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“Go to my bathroom and get the cream I use,” she said.

I hurried to comply, wincing with every step. When I returned, she applied the cream gently, her touch soothing the burning sting.

“This should help,” she said. “But you’ll definitely have bruises.”

“I figured,” I replied softly, “it will remind me to watch my mouth.”

“Now go into the corner and stand with your face to the wall, and your hands on your head. You have fifteen minutes.

When the time was up, Anna stood and smiled. I could see satisfaction on her face. “Now, finish making breakfast. And remember, never talk back to me like that again.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said quietly, using the word “ma’am’ for the first time.

Continue to Chapter 14