I am so in love with my wife, Rachel, even though she is the bitchiest person I know. In fact, I am so in love with her because she is so bitchy to me. Rachel is twenty-eight. I am Malcolm and am thirty.  

Rachel is a beauty in my eyes. Slightly fleshy, but not fat, has long dark hair, and amazing blazing eyes. Her bitchy tone of voice alone turns me on so much.  

I am an alpha male at the office, but Rachel is my romantic ideal. Whenever she is bitchy, I get erections, she takes control, and my bitch of a wife makes our lovemaking huge.  

I was drawn to Rachel even though she had a reputation for being a real bitch. Even during our first date, she acted the bitch, wanting to be the one in control. We did make love after our third date, but Rachel controlled the whole thing, and I loved her for doing that.  

Once a couple, I moved in with Rachel. She set me rules I had to keep to, like I mustn't ever masturbate, even if she didn't want sex and I did. It was hard, but the sex with her was always the best I had ever had, so I accepted waiting until she told me we were having sex.  

Being the true bitch, Rachel regularly put me down, even in public, in front of her friends and, more so, my friends. However, I got an erection each time, and later found out that she got wet knickers when putting me down.  

Quite a common put down, was when I would make a statement or give her an opinion, and, instead of her saying, 'I don't think so,' she would say, 'You're being really stupid.' However, I always accepted the putdown, and she could see that I was accepting it. I knew that being a controlling bitch was naturally her character and was what drew me towards her. It didn't take long before both of us wanted to be seen by everyone as Rachel being in control, and me being obedient.  

Quite often, as well as putting me down in public, in front of her or my friends, or even in a public place like a shop, if I said something that she really didn't like, then she would slap me around the face. I know those around us were surprised, but I very quickly got used to it.  

After the first time she slapped me around the face, once alone, she said, "Honestly, if you don't want me to slap you around the face in public, then watch what you say." She smiled as she said it, and we both knew she loved slapping my face.  

Initially, I had expected her friends to be sympathetic when Rachel slapped my face. However, it quickly became clear that they knew what a bitch she was, to men anyway, and now to me in particular. It also became clear enough to them, very quickly, that this was the relationship that I wanted, so when Rachel did slap my face in public, it was a mixture of smiles and stern-looking but knowing faces from her friends.  

Things got better for me, and my love for my bitchy wife, when, one time, I got home later than I said I would, Rachel put me down, by saying sternly that I was very naughty for being home late, and I had better not be late again, ever. I took that as a put down but told myself I had better obey. 

Then, when two days later I was late home again, Rachel said in a very stern tone of voice, “I told you not to be late ever again. You are. That is very naughty. I don’t expect to have to repeat myself, ever. At least not verbally. So, now I am going to give you a very hard bare bottom spanking.” 

It was like turning on a switch, and I asked her, "Are you really going to spank me?"  

I will never forget how Rachel looked at me, clearly surprised by my question, but immediately up for the answer I actually wanted, and said, "Yes, I am, and, for questioning my decision, spanking will now be your very regular punishment."  

Rachel told me, in fact, ordered me, "Go and fetch my handbag. There's something in there that I will be using to make this a very effective and memorable spanking."  

I got the handbag, knowing that, in it, was her wooden-backed hairbrush. It was the one she used for brushing her hair, and I know that she saw me giving it strange looks, no doubt now realising that, what I was thinking, was how much it would hurt if she did spank me with it.  

Rachel went and sat on a dining chair, yanking her skirt right up, so I would be lying across her bare thighs. As she made me stand in front of her, and she undid my trousers and yanked them down to my ankles, followed by my underpants, she saw the erection that the anticipation had created.  

Rachel ordered me across her lap, which I did immediately, lowering my erect penis onto her bare thighs. It was the most wonderful feeling, particularly the feeling of submission, on my part, and the acknowledgment, unquestionably, that Rachel was the one in control. Most memorable, before the spanking got far too much for me to cope with, was the close-up sight of Rachel's upside-down bare legs, which I found so sexy.  

As soon as the spanking started, my long-held fantasy of Rachel spanking me came to life. It hurt, which of course it had to, more and more as the spanks continued. I could notice how each spank hurt more once she changed from spanking alternate bottom cheeks to spanking the same bottom cheek several times in a row, and then the other bottom cheek several times in a row. The pain got even worse when she changed from that to spanking the same spot on the same bottom cheek time and again, and then the same spot on the other bottom cheek time and again.  

Of course, once Rachel started to spank me with the hairbrush, everything else seemed almost manageable. The hairbrush wasn't manageable, and I, an alpha man at the office, albeit a very lowly beta male at home with Rachel, soon realised my eyes were filling with tears, and those tears were dribbling down my face. Rachel saw that I was crying and wasn't coping, but she told me afterwards that it encouraged her to spank me even harder with the hairbrush, to show that any punishment only ended when she decided it would end, and not just because I couldn't cope with it. I knew that she was right to do that, of course.  

On the plus side, straight after the spanking, Rachel made me kneel between her legs and lick her stretched pussy lips, giving her a huge orgasm. She then gave me the most wonderful blowjob, making the spanking so worthwhile. She told me that even bitches loved a mouthful of their husband's cum.  

Later on, when, on a couple of occasions, Rachel needed to spank me before having to go out, she complained that giving me a long spanking delayed her. So, she ordered six senior canes online, and, once they were delivered, the very next time I was too slow to obey her, not actually disobeying, but just too slow, she told me in her normal bitchy tone of voice, "You are getting the cane for that,"  

Rachel led me up to our bedroom and told me to get fully undressed. I knew that meant a really hard thrashing was coming. She then ordered me to lie on the bed, with my bottom perched on top of the pillows that I had to pile up in the middle of the bed, before rubbing the cane across my bottom, and then landing the first stroke, which was horrendous.  

Rachel proceeded to land stroke after stroke, and each one was agony. However, I could see how it was teaching me to obey her straightaway in the future. In all, she gave me thirty-six strokes of the cane. They were all so painful.  

In fact, painful wasn't a good enough description. Rachel knew she had always caned me well beyond what I could cope with, not just to show me time and again that she was the one in total control, but because she knew that, as her submissive, I wanted to suffer excruciating pain from her. Thankfully, she always had me struggling with the pain, and she was right that I did want to suffer whenever she told me it was needed.  

When Rachel caned me the first time because she had to hurry as she was going out, leaving me at home, I wanted to focus on the caning. To do that, stood with my nose pressed against the wall, my hands on my head, and I was thinking about the caning, about all the pain, Rachel's control over me, and I got a huge erection. I knew that I was not allowed to masturbate, at least not without Rachel's approval. Normally, whenever she saw my erection, she wanted to use it, and loved me to enter her, gyrate, and bring her to a huge orgasm, which I had to do before I could come. I accepted that. Now, I thought, what was I going to do? Rachel wasn't here, and I so needed to deal with this erection. Should I masturbate?  

Luckily, I didn't masturbate, and settled down watching the television. As soon as Rachel came home, she told me to follow her to the bedroom, where she got undressed, and told me to get undressed. She glared at me as she made the unveiled threat. "I hope you haven't done yourself, because, if you have, expect another thirty-six strokes of the cane." She stared at my penis as I took my underwear off. Luckily for me, I still had an erection, and that got even stiffer as Rachel lay on the bed, on her back, commanded me to lie on top of her, and ordered. "Make this a huge, huge orgasm for me, before you come. Otherwise, you can still expect another thirty-six strokes."  

What amazed me, in fact, thrilled me, was that the threat did exactly as Rachel expected, because, as I entered her, gyrated, and listened to her increasingly erotic gasps of pleasure, I managed to hold my own ejaculation back. At least I did until she exploded in her huge orgasm. Only then did I empty my load into her, and knew that the satisfaction was far far greater than it would have been even if I had masturbated after being caned, and then come again when she got home. Rachel really did know how to make me reach peaks of pleasure that I would never have been able to do without her.  

From then on, Rachel caned me pretty much every time she went out without me. As well as being quicker for Rachel, as I stood with my nose against the wall, after each caning, and Rachel had gone out, I just thought about the lovemaking we would have when she got home.  

Happy, it was far faster to cane me than give me a spanking, if I needed to be punished, Rachel often made the decision to cane me rather than spank me. She would tell me to fetch the cane, position myself on the bed perched on those pillows, and thirty-six strokes became the minimum number of strokes she gave me, but mostly seventy-two, or, eighty-four strokes. Not one stroke was light, and even when my eyes filled with tears, so she kept on caning me. It was always one stroke straight after the other, for speed and effect. Rachel controlled everything about the caning, particularly the number of strokes, which made it clear that she saw caning me as a particularly effective way of disciplining me, which I knew even without her telling me.  

As much as my bottom was stinging crazily, Rachel always saw my erection develop after every caning, and so gave me her wicked bitchy smile, before we made love. On those occasions when, after the caning, she left to go out, we both knew we would make love on her return.  

Lots of times, I got spanked or caned just because Rachel wanted to. Rachel didn't call them pre-planned maintenance spankings or canings. She would realise that I was staring at her bare arms and bare legs, and the bulge would be developing in my trousers. So, just deciding there and then, Rachel saw it as satisfying my sexual desire for her to spank or cane me, getting us both aroused and ready for the most fabulous lovemaking.  

As well as me loving seeing her bare arms and bare legs, I found Rachel's bitchiness gave me so many erections, and that got me spanked and caned by Rachel as foreplay so many times as well.  

We both often saw her decision to spank me as a method of stress relief for Rachel. When stressed, it calmed her down to the point that the lovemaking afterwards was extremely rewarding for both of us. The pain was difficult for me, but I knew that it was getting her aroused, like lovemaking foreplay, with the reward being huge orgasms for both of us. After all, I was one of those who achieved so much pleasure by suffering a lot of pain. On the other hand, Rachel's pleasure was being a bitch, verbal putdowns, and the choice of which implement to use when punishing me, whether that punishment was earned by me or just needed to be given by my wonderful bitchy wife, Rachel.  

Things also moved on in another way. Rachel had seen on the Internet all about wife-led-marriages. She had read all about it before we got married, as she was clearly looking for a husband who would submit in the way described. Even before we got married, she drafted a wife-led-marriage contract. It had in it all of the things that I was very happy about. Rachel would take over controlling all of the finances, with all bank accounts and credit cards in her name only. My salary would be paid into her account, and she would give me an albeit small allowance every week, but only if I was good and had been obedient. If I weren't, and she decided each time, then there would be no allowance that week.  

On our wedding day, before the ceremony, we both signed the contract.  

Her control continued to increase, which was what I wanted. When we went shopping, I would have to follow her around wherever she wanted to go. When the shopping was for something that I needed, she would tell me what I was going to buy, which clothes, and the like, and I accepted every decision. I was very happy with that. She obviously paid for everything, as I had no access to any funds.  

In fact, I positively relinquished any control or taking any part in any decision. It was totally voluntary on my part. Rachel made every single decision that I would not query. It moved on to Rachel not even bothering to discuss anything with me, but simply deciding what to do, every single time. If I suggested anything at all, she would say, "Why would I want your opinion on anything?" She was right, of course, so, in simple terms, her word was the law that I had to obey.  

I knew that my life had changed, and, whilst I was still an alpha man at the office, I was very much the lowly beta man at home, and wanted to be. Rachel controlled everything about me, even when I could go to the gym, or, rather, she told me when I must go to the gym. It was part of what was clearly the permanent loss of any control I had over anything, and that Rachel's power over me was absolute.  

As bitchy as Rachel was beforehand, I have seen how, since handing full control over to her, she has total confidence in our marriage, has become more assertive, more demanding, more bossy, and even more bitchy. However, I know that everything about a wife-led marriage was right for both of us, and fitted our personalities and characters so well. I certainly know, and Rachel knows as well. I have no wish to change anything at all, ever.  

Even my friends understand why I relished being controlled by such a bitchy woman. They could see how happy it was making me. I told them, the saying is, once a bitch, always a bitch, and I hoped that would apply to Rachel.  

Rachel still openly criticizes me and berates me, even in public. I still get my face slapped, and both her friends and my friends watch as I am regularly spanked and caned. I know that it looks as though she treats me as her inferior, but I know the truth is that she loves me, and the control she has over me is unequivocally a sign of that love. That is why I am so grateful to her, love her so much, and am so happy being obedient, respectful, and totally submissive to my wonderful Rachel. I know Rachel relishes the control she has over me, and that is what makes ours a truly happy and loving marriage. I couldn't ask for more.