Cuckolding in British spanking mags: Mortification of the Flesh

The jealousy and humiliation of a husband having his wife taken from him against his will is a huge turn on. One of the highlights of this story is how the husband clearly knows his wife's 'contemplative retreat' will end up with her getting spanked and screwed by strange men, but he is powerless to stop her...

Graham explodes. 'Eight weekends! You can't! That's ridiculous.'

...

'It's a retreat,' Anne Harling tells her husband. 'A spiritual retreat. You go to get a, you know, spiritual recharge.'

Anne Harling is 21, three years younger than Graham, a nice-looking blonde and of course she doesn't have a job. Anne wanted to get one when they were married a year ago but Graham said she didn't need to work and he would rather she was just a housewife, looking after him and their house. The other reason although he didn't like to spell it out was that Graham didn't like the thought of Anne being too independent. At work, with male colleagues: well you heard things, didn't you? Frisky young married women.

Graham didn't really think Anne would – but he could have these rather nasty visions of her being persuaded by some persuasive male colleague. To be friendly. To fuck him in other words. Graham didn't really imagine she would but he just felt happier with Anne at home. And she didn't need to work.

...

He doesn't want Anne going on a spiritual retreat alone. 'Maybe I'll come too then. You said there were men there.'
Anne shakes her head. She did know that. Charlotte had been quite clear about that. 'But not husbands and wives. That would defeat the object. I mean, being spiritual.' She moves over to sit next to him. Smiling coyly. 'It's spiritual, darling.'

Of course he could always spank her himself and order her not to go...

But I suppose some men are born to spank, and some men are born to be cuckolded!

Graham though he is annoyed with Anne also wants to make love to her. Wants to fuck her. Well he won't be able to tomorrow night or Saturday, Anne will be away, in some little monastic cell a hundred miles off. There are men at this place. Men on retreat and also the resident monks or whatever they are. Graham doesn't feel too keen about that aspect, though of course they are bound to be wimpy types. Although even wimpy types can be interested in pretty women.

The whole thing is very annoying, upsetting, and perhaps because of that Graham has a very intense erection. With the thought of those men he feels like something he doesn't always want. Perhaps subconsciously to demonstrate to himself his masculinity, his ownership of Anne. He wants her to suck him. The desire for it is suddenly very powerful. Mixed in with the desire are disturbing images, glimpses, in his head of Anne sucking other men.

They are very unpleasant but powerful also. All adding up to this sudden great need for it.
Once she realises what he wants Anne is willing enough. She can guess at Graham's special need. He is possessive and doesn't want her to go. So he wants this special thing to demonstrate that she is his. Anne can guess this and accepts it. She accepts therefore his jutting organ. Taking it in her mouth.

But you can't win. Anne is doing it, sucking Graham, giving marvellous sensual pleasure. But into Graham's mind comes the thought: Anne could do it. He pictures it: all those wimpy men coming one by one into her little cell.

Of course the retreat is exactly as spiritual as Graham suspects:

As always he is very keen to recruit young female Novices. Both for his own pleasure and because they are necessary to keep St Alwyn's as a viable concern.

There is of course no greater pleasure than training a young woman in the ways of penitence and fleshy rigours. In particular perhaps a young married woman who in the world outside is routinely knowing the lusts of the flesh; is regularly submitting her soft and tender body to sinful pleasure. But there is the other reason too: which is that beautiful young female Novitiates will attract men visitors. Who are prepared to pay substantially for a stay on retreat – if they are in the company of submissive and beautiful young female Novices.

Anne's married friend Charlotte is also a delight. It was she who introduced Anne to the retreat, and there is clearly a conspiracy among middle-class ladies to make sure no 'respectable' suburban wife goes untouched:

The Visitor is spanking her bared bottom. And fondling it. The two activities going hand in hand. A series of sharp smacks... and then his hand caressing the hot cheeks, the backs of her pretty thighs. And in between the thighs. Charlotte is alternately yelping and groaning. This combined treatment is certainly getting to her. She is in a sexually aroused state. Because what is happening is a very powerful stimulant for Charlotte. Sharp corporal chastisement of her bottom plus the knowing fingers between her legs, at her pussy. This sort of thing... always makes her go off like a bomb.

The brown-garbed Visitor has heard of the new Novice. As have all the other regular Visitors. A lovely girl, new and untrained, starting next weekend, on Friday. They are of course all eager to see her. To have a hand in her early training. A new and untried young woman is such an exciting prospect. New girls are always awaited with the keenest excitement. So there is bound to be a full house of Visitors next weekend. Not that the other girls, the ones who are now more or less regular, are not also a major attractant. Girls like Charlotte.
'Is she a hot one?' the Visitor with three fingers inside Charlotte asks. 'Is she going to like it as much as our hot Carlotta?'
Charlotte replies only with a gurgling groan. She doesn't know. Charlotte has never discussed things with Anne. Though quite possibly Anne would be keen if led into it by an expert. Someone different from that Graham of course. Led into the full pleasures of chastisement and sexual arousal. There are experts at St Alwyn's of course. The Master. And the Brothers. Not to mention various of the regular Visitors. All very keen to put a new and pretty girl through the hoops.
Charlotte comes with a high-pitched screech. Jerking and rolling her hips like a cat in heat. Her companion pushes her off of his lap. 'My word Carlotta. What sinful writhings. We'll have to have something for that. Eh? A nice touch of the cane.'

Charlotte shivers. She knows what is coming and she shivers. With fear, excitement, anticipation. She hates the cane but at the same time it turns her on. It also turns her on to think that Anne Harling will be getting it. Anne doesn't know this of course. Not yet. Anne who is really so innocent and perhaps a bit prudish but at the same time is eager to know about things, about life. And of course that awful prig Graham who doesn't want her to do anything. What if he knew what was in store for his darling Anne?
Charlotte is told to bend herself over the Master's desk. Heart pounding, she does so. She has been visiting St Alwyn's for two months now, weekends mostly but once a whole week. Charlotte has been caned in all that time but the feeling is always the same: the feeling when you prepare yourself, when you lie over the desk. With knickers lowered. To submit yourself to the Master's will. To his whippy rattan cane. Or when alternatively you have to lie on top of the desk, on your back. Your knickers again lowered and your legs breath-takingly now up in the air. That feeling: your skin tingling; sweating with fear... and excitement.

The Master is pulling down her knickers. Simon doesn't know of course. About this. About any of it. Charlotte's Simon who is not a prig like Graham Harling but nonetheless Charlotte clearly couldn't tell him. About what actually happens at St Alwyn's. Spiritual exercises. Contemplation. That is that she says. Without going into a lot of detail. The same as she has told Anne. Simon seems to accept it. Because for one thing of course he can't guess that Charlotte cold be turned on by this sort of thing.

...

Writhing her hips, her stricken bottom. She'll have to tell Anne... to be careful Graham doesn't see her bottom. The marks...

Charlotte anyway doesn't know how many she's had. You can't keep count. They hurt so much but at the same time... they get you going. She must have had six though. Because her bottom is really killing her. And also... she's almost coming. She's on the very brink. So that when his hand... or something else... goes there... she'll go off like a Roman Candle.

And when Anne eventually gets initiated, as if it isn't titillating enough...

Her face that is flushed as she answers a reluctant 'Yes Master' to his question: is she ever unfaithful to her husband? Anne has to tell him, face scarlet. About Mr Ponbridge, the retired man who comes round to do jobs in the garden. Mr Ponbridge who has intercourse with Anne. Fucks her. On his twice weekly visits. Why does she let him? Anne doesn't really know except that one day, after she made him some coffee, he managed to persuade her. And after that...

'That will certainly require a Penance, Novice Anne. A series of Penances. And now tell me about your husband. Your relations with sour husband. I presume sexual relations are continuing. In spite of Mr Ponbridge. Tell me about them.'
The Master has pulled Anne closer. His hand is now on her bottom. Outside the black robe but stroking the cheeks of her bottom. Anne is shaking. The hand and also what she has just been forced to tell. Anne now... the Master wants to know everything about her and Graham. She hadn't anticipated that there would be any of this. This sort of confession. She is being forced to tell exactly what she and Graham do. Last night... She wouldn't tell but the feeling that she can't lie, even by omission, is too powerful. She forces the words out. He makes her tell it in detail. Sucking Graham.

It is another example of course of the lusts of the flesh. Indicative possibly of an overweening appetite. To curb this the cane will be necessary. Does Anne understand that? A severe caning to moderate this lustful craving. In fact a series of severe canings.
As Anne is told this the Master's hand has lifted her robe. At the back. Sliding his hand up the backs of her bare legs. Up the backs of her likewise bare thighs to the brief little knickers. His fingers groping. Does she understand? And in humility accept? The chastisement of her tender flesh.
'Y... Yes... Master.' The words popping out as the Master's hand gropes her.
'Good. We will do that... in a few moments. We will begin the chastisement. But first of all another Penance. In view of the particular lustful act that you have described...'

Anne realises she is to kneel, on the bare wood floor. In front of the Master. He is pulling up his own robe. Under which, like her own, there is very little. In Master Nicholas's case just himself it seems... A little gasp as she sees it. As it comes clear of the yanked up robe. Then he is pulling her forward. Anne's head, face, forward. And she knows what she has to do. The lustful act. It is to be repeated.