I am the head of this household in every room but one. The guardianship court needs a conventional Victorian husband, and I give them one. Then the study door closes and my wife decides what I am.

Charlotte was a governess before she was my wife. She has never raised her voice. She has never had to. Last evening we finished the ward's accounts and she opened the locked drawer, buckled on the harness, and bent me over the desk. She kept at me until I said out loud what I wanted. I had never once said any of it sober.

That is the shame of it. Not the harness. That I check that drawer when she is out. She sets her pen down a certain way and I am already unbuttoning.

The cousin filed against us again, so the drawer opens tonight. Bent over the desk. Taken with it. Held there. Made to say every word she wants before she is done. The court must see a man who commands his own house, the ward goes to that cousin if anyone learns, and I lock that study door myself. What am I when I am the one who yields? What is left of me if she puts the harness away for good?

A full-length femdom pegging male submission erotic novel featuring a Victorian husband and the governess wife who owns him.