Chapter 1 – Founding

Mrs. Mavis Wainwright was a powerful southern woman. She was a direct descendant of Buford MacTavish, the founder of both Chain Manufacturing Inc. and the town of Chain. Her family had carefully guarded their wealth and control of the company throughout the decades. Mrs. Wainwright was the Chairperson of the Board of Chain Manufacturing, Inc. and held or controlled a majority of the stock. For all intents and purposes, she WAS Chain Manufacturing. In the town of Chain, she was the female equivalent of a southern “Boss Hogg”.

Not only did she have her Chain Manufacturing stock, but over the years her family had started, invested in, or acquired partial or total ownership in about half the businesses in town. These included the best restaurant in town, the local pharmacy, a well drilling company, two car dealerships, the TV station and many more. Mrs. Wainwright wasn’t shy about using her wealth and power to control almost every social and charitable organization in her southern town.

You see, almost everyone in town owed Mrs. Wainwright, some owed her their jobs, some their social status, some their political positions. In a southern town where community was everything, she could make or ruin you and your family. She could get you a job or get you fired. In person she was just a sweet southern grandmother. In the boardroom she was ruthless.

The late Mr. Wainwright had been a brilliant businessman but introverted around women. He was only 5 ft 5 inches tall and rarely spoke when in his wife’s presence. Their friends learned quickly to simply ignore him when the Wainwrights were together. Some thought his submissive behavior around his wife to be strange, some thought he was simply being a southern gentleman, and a few recognized it for exactly what it was – a female led relationship back before that was even a term.

The Wainwrights met at State University. He pursued her like an excited puppy dog, and she completely ignored him. But by their senior year, Mavis realized the advantages of having a submissive boyfriend and so she adopted him the way one adopts a puppy and eventually married him. Although when she proposed, she made it clear that sex, if they had it at all, would be on her terms and that she thought the idea of a man depositing slimy cum into her was disgusting and would simply NOT be happening. On their wedding night, she raised her nightgown a bit and allowed him to eat her out for the first time, then she jerked him off with disgust and they went to bed in separate double beds in their hotel room.

During their married life, Mavis allowed her husband to penetrate her exactly twice, one month apart. She carefully monitored her vaginal temperature for weeks to make sure she was fertile. The first time, to her disgust, did not produce a pregnancy, but the second penetration did. And that was the last time Mr. Wainwright got to fuck his wife. Willamina Wainwright, named after her great, great, grandmother, was born nine months later and raised entirely by lesbian nannies and later extensively tutored to someday take over the Chain dynasty.

Over the following years Mr. and Mrs. Wainwright’s relationship slowly but steadily evolved. Mrs. Wainwright spent her days in her office at Chain Manufacturing, doing charity work, attending social events, playing tennis, or swimming at the local country club. She spent her Sunday mornings at church and Sunday afternoons hosting the Ladies Tea Society of Chain. Mr. Wainwright worked, usually 6 days a week, at one of the car dealerships or helping manage his wife’s many other business interests in town. When he came home, he would cook dinner, clean the dishes, do housework or laundry till late in the evening – and he did all of his home duties with a smile, naked, and with deep devotion to his wife. Several times a week they would go out for dinner, usually to a restaurant in which they had a financial interest. But even on those nights, when they returned home, Mr. Wainwright would spend several hours cleaning or doing laundry.

They continued to sleep in separate beds for the rest of their lives, Mrs. Wainwright in her queen-sized bed, Mr. Wainwright in a single metal army cot across the bedroom. Occasionally she would chain him in the basement if he had irritated her somehow, but normally she preferred having him within earshot in case she needed anything during the night. Her needs frequently involved middle of the night oral sex.

Mavis Wainwright was now in her 50’s, tall, still very well built, with a kind almost grandmotherly demeanor . . . until you crossed her. She had a stare that said, “don’t mess with grandma”. She could tighten her vise like grip on a man’s testicles until he was screaming, all the while saying in the kindest, soft voice “there, there, little boy, you can take this for me, and it will all be over in just a few hours.”

The interesting thing is that Mavis didn’t hate all men. She worked with men in her professional and community interests. She had male friends and knew many male dominants. She even enjoyed playing with a female submissive from time to time. No, Mrs. Wainwright didn’t hate men. But she could spot a naturally submissive male from across a room. And she had absolutely NO respect or tolerance for them. Submissive men were created, she believed, to serve and provide stress relief for women like her.

Early in her marriage she realized that several women in her social circle had married submissive men and had no idea why their husbands were so weak. Almost all these women had unhappy marriages because their husbands were failing at the relationship and the wives didn’t realize that they needed to take charge. Mavis vowed to fix this.

On a Sunday afternoon she invited a group of women to her first Ladies Tea Society gathering. She made it sound feminine, fun, and empowering. She invited them to wear Sunday finest. During the first tea she served English high tea with delightful pastries on real China and lace on the patio. During tea she explained her views on men. The women laughed and agreed that their husbands could use some work. Then Mrs. Wainwright shocked them all by ordering her husband to serve refills and pastries, naked, wearing only a chastity cage. Mr. Wainwright started offering refills on tea, acting like a proper servant, addressing everyone as ‘madam’ and not appearing the least bit embarrassed or upset.

The ladies got deathly quiet. Mr. Wainwright continued to serve.

“I think you’ve upset my guest dear; you must have done something to offend them.” Mrs. Wainwright said in her best kindly grandma voice. “Come here and let me correct you dear.”

She winked at a few of the ladies on the front of the patio as Mr. Wainwright stood beside her and put down his tea and pastries.

“Well dear, don’t delay the inevitable!” She said and he leaned over her lap, putting his palms on the patio flagstones.

And then Mrs. Mavis Wainwright, chairperson of the board of Chain Manufacturing, President of the local Chamber of Commerce, benefactor of dozens of charities, began to spank her husband’s naked butt in front of a patio of southern ladies.

Slap, Slap, Slap, Slap, “Ladies, you’ll find that spanking a man with your hands can be very satisfying, especially as they begin to squirm. But it can also hurt your hand. Doris, would you be so kind as to look in that chest to your left and hand me the ping pong paddle?”

Doris was at a loss. She looked at Mrs. Wainwright, who was smiling at her like this was the most reasonable request in the world. She looked at the other ladies at her table, most of whom were trying to dissolve into the flagstones. She looked at the box.

“Yes, that box right there. I think the best paddle is the one with the red rubber handle on it.” Mrs. Wainwright explained.

Doris, whose brain was working on autopilot at this point, found the paddle and passed it to Mrs. Wainwright.

The ladies heard a resounding “Crack!” followed by Mr. Wainwright emitting a loud grunt.

“That’s better, it doesn’t hurt my hand and we’ll get him crying and properly corrected in minutes!” Mrs. Wainwright declared. And she gave Mr. Wainwright a good 10 more sound whacks.

“There dear,” She said, still in grandmother voice, “I’m sure you feel much better now. Please continue serving my guests!”

And Mr. Wainwright did. With tears streaming down his cheeks and a bright red bottom already starting to show bruising, he picked up the tea pot and plate of pastries and continued making the rounds like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“Do any of you have any questions?,” Mrs. Wainwright asked. “Perhaps about my pastry recipes, the proper temperature for English tea or, perhaps, other ways you might discipline your husbands.”

The patio was so quiet you could hear the birds chirping a block away. Then Evelyn asked with serious concern, “What, how, why does he let you do that to him?”

And suddenly everyone was asking questions at once. “Doesn’t that hurt him?” “Why did you do that?” “Isn’t that mean?” “Is that fun?”

The last question was the one Mavis heard above the noise, “Is that fun? Who asked that!”

A woman about halfway back raised her hand shyly as everyone else quieted down.

“Oh yes dear, it’s great fun!” Mrs. Wainwright exclaimed, “and a great stress reliever and a huge boost for the libido as well, if that’s not being too forward!”

And the conversation went on for over an hour. Mr. Wainwright went back to the kitchen for more tea multiple times as the ladies’ asked questions, expressed doubts, and slowly came to the realization that, "they had been doing it wrong.”

This became the first of regular weekly meetings of the Ladies Tea Society. For the first few months, only the women came. Slowly, through Mrs. Wainwright’s instruction and the sharing of experiences between the wives, the women learned to establish, and get their husbands to accept, a Female Led Marriage. As each of them converted their households, it became a sort of a graduation to bring your husband to the Tea Society. And they didn’t just attend a tea party. The first time they came they were, of course, naked. An initiation ritual included them standing in front of the officers of the Tea Society and all the assembled ladies with their hands behind their head. It was part of the ritual to have their wife describe to the assembled ladies, their husband’s body, his lovemaking skills, and all his shortcomings. The inductee would then be spanked, paddled, whipped, ball busted or whatever public punishment the wife decided to publicly administer for his shortcomings. During all of this, the members of the Tea Society would comment mercilessly and applaud the punishment enthusiastically.

Mrs. Wainwright and the officers would then pass judgment. If the male had taken his punishment like a true submissive husband, then they would accept him into the Society. Failures rarely happened as the men had become addicted to their submission and could no longer imagine living outside a female led relationship. The idea of failing this admission ritual, which would mean the wife as well as the husband would no longer be welcome at tea, was unacceptable. Those few that did fail usually begged to be allowed a second chance.

When a man was accepted, Mrs. Wainwright would lecture him on expected behavior at tea. This included kneeling beside his goddess’s chair silently throughout the tea, accepting any commands and instructions instantly, helping Mr. Wainwright serve and clean up. It also included absolute privacy. If he didn’t want other members or their submissive husbands to talk about his attendance at the tea, then he would not talk about anyone else, ever, anywhere outside tea. Since the husbands could look around the room and see other naked, keeling men they knew, golfed with, worked with, etc., they were more than happy to keep quiet. They all vowed they would NEVER talk about or even acknowledge the Tea Society outside of Mrs. Wainwright’s patio.

Weekly Society Teas usually included some type of program. If Mrs. Wainwright was teaching her ladies about dominating or disciplining their husbands, she taught the way your grandma might teach the family biscuit recipe. Other weeks another member of the group might teach a favorite topic. One member brought her collection of kitchen spoons and demonstrated them on her husband’s ass. She had wooden spoons, plastic spoons, metal spoons, even a carved onyx spoon! Another member did an outstanding program on stress bondage positions, borrowing several of the ladies’ husbands to tie them in uncomfortable positions and leaving them to suffer for the group for the rest of the tea.

Sometimes, Mrs. Wainwright would bring in professionals, like the time she brought in her financial planner to teach FinDom or Financial Domination. Another time she had her dermatologist Dr. Carlyle come in to talk about bruises, how to assess them, how to treat them and how to recognize when they might lead to dangerous blood clots.

Being a member of the Tea Society had other benefits as well. If a member was having trouble being strong and not releasing her husband from his chastity cage, Mrs. Wainwright would either gladly hold the key or suggest another member of the society to hold it. Mavis would also loan members her basement dungeon if they needed some piece of bondage equipment to discipline their man. And the greatest benefit was the Wainwright Ranch, a very private six-bedroom ranch house out in the middle of miles of pine forest. The ranch featured a human pony barn, several outdoor racks and frames for suspension, and many more toys. Many women liked to ‘borrow’ the ranch for their anniversary weekends, birthdays, or other celebrations.

One Sunday afternoon, when Mrs. Wainwright had run out of ideas for programs, she surprised the ladies by announcing a contest, with the winner getting to use the ranch for a whole week. Mavis had contracted with Schwartz Iron works to design a couple of tables. They had started with six-foot wooden folding tables, cutting slots in the tabletops and looping 2 in. nylon straps through the slots so that a man could be strapped down to the table. Straps held his wrists beside his waist, his legs at ankles, knees, and thighs. Straps held his waist, chest, shoulders, neck, and forehead. Basically, he couldn’t move and inch!

Iron pipes formed an inverted U over his crotch area, with an adjustable pipe coming straight down above his penis. Attached to that pipe was a six-inch square piece of plexiglass with a copper plate glued to the bottom. A circuit was formed any time a part of the man’s body touched the copper plate and a large red light turned on at the top of the pipes.

The contest was simple but took some time, so Mrs. Wainwright chose two volunteers: Katy and Paula (the wives volunteered their husbands of course) at the start of the tea. Both men were strapped down to a table naked and then the rules were explained. Mrs. Wainwright assigned one of her female employees to be the judge and watch closely.

The rules are simple:

1. The wives must sexually excite their husbands and cause an erection. They may use visual (baring a breast, etc.), audio (whispering what she will do to him, etc.), and manual stimulus (pinching nipples, raking with fingernails, hand jobs, oral, etc.)
2. No gloves, vibrators, or other artificial things may be used. If the wife gives head, her head may not bump or move the Plexiglas plate.
3. The wife may not use any chemical agents except the provided lubricant.
4. The wife may not pull the penis up to make it touch the plate.
5. As soon as the husband’s penis becomes erect enough to touch the plate on its own, the wife must immediately stop all stimulation and sit down, enjoying her tea until called back up by the judge.
6. The time difference between when the first husband’s penis touches and the second husband’s touches, are totaled as penalty points for the second husband.
7. Once the judge determines that both penises have become completely flaccid, no matter how long that takes, she then calls the wives back to the tables and the next round starts.

This tease and denial went on until one wife could not make her husband’s penis touch the plate within 15 minutes of starting a round, or until she gave up, or until Mrs. Wainwright called the contest, whichever occurred first.

On this Sunday, the poor teased and denied husbands on the tables went 17 rounds before Mrs. Wainwright, deciding it was time for the tea to end, called the contest and declared the winner. Of course, with the help of a little ice, both extremely frustrated husbands were locked back in their chastity devices and helped off the tables.

Katy and her husband won with just 2 less minutes of penalty points. Paula was NOT happy with her husband and vowed that it would be weeks if not months before she let him out of his cage again.

Strategy is, the ladies discovered, very important. A wife wants to use the absolute minimum amount of stimulus needed to turn on the light. If she can get through several rounds without even touching her man’s penis, then he is going to last many more rounds. However, it’s also important to get him hard as quickly as possible to avoid penalty points. Knowing your man is key, for example, will he become erect if you simply bite his nipples while telling him you’re going to crush his balls later?

The ladies all agreed that this had been a wonderful game and should be played at least once a year with new ‘volunteers.’