The Submissive Husband Preview


Alyssa walked steadily across the university grounds, her hair wrapped in a tartan scarf and the collar of her long leather coat turned up against the cold breeze. Nobody gave her a second glance except for the few admiring looks she garnered from the young male students. In her pinwale corduroy trousers, turtle neck jumper and leather boots, she looked like every other academic professor or lecturer.
Except she wasn’t.
Yes, she had completed her doctorate on Medieval history and culture and, yes, she had researched and written another excellent academic paper on the Crusades but Alyssa wasn’t a student or on the teaching staff.

All her academic achievements were accomplished simply because Alyssa needed something to do. It wasn’t widely know but Alyssa Reynolds did not need to work as, thanks to a substantial revenue stream bequeathed to her by her late mother, she was independently wealthy.

Shelby Spring had been a very successful American songwriter in the late 1960’s – her songs were recorded by many mainstream artists and even the Beatles had recorded one of her early songs on their second album.

Shelby had one hit by herself and then retired to write for other people as a result, most people remembered her as a one hit wonder instead of the most prolific and successful songwriter of her generation.

After marrying a British record producer, Brian Reynolds, they had set up home in England where Alyssa was born many years later, in fact, when Shelby had given up hope of ever having children.

Brian left soon after the birth and Alyssa was raised alone by Shelby until her mother’s death nine years ago, leaving Alyssa a steady stream of cash from the song writing royalties.

As a result, Alyssa never actually left the university and many students mistakenly thought she was a member of the faculty. Some of teaching staff thought she was as well as Alyssa made herself quite at home and used many of the faculty facilities. She was quiet, kept to herself so nobody really minded.

Alyssa was also very discreet and told no one of her one or two mindless sexual affairs she had conducted with middle aged and very married professors. The thrill of the affair had been fun, although the sex had been pretty ordinary and became rather boring after a while. It was then that Alyssa ended the liaisons, much to the relief of the professors and then acknowledged their presence with a sniff of her regal nose.

Seven months ago, to her surprise, Alyssa had found herself agreeing to marry Colin Williams, a man some five years older than her and a would be playwright.

She had been impressed by his artistic endeavours, although she had never read any of his work as Colin was shy.

‘It’s not ready,’ he had said. ‘I’ll show it to you when I’ve completed it.’

Alyssa, although disappointed, had nodded but asked, ‘what’s it about?’

Colin had looked at her strangely and then rapidly spoke. ‘A man and a woman…’ Alyssa had raised an eyebrow and Colin hurriedly added, ‘and a dog.’

‘A dog?’

‘Yes…a Labrador…’

‘How will you get a dog on stage?’

Colin had shrugged, looked away and explained quickly , ‘the dog doesn’t really exist.’

‘I see, a metaphorical dog?’

Colin had looked at her blankly. ‘What?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Alyssa kissed his forehead. ‘I can’t wait to read it.’ She smiled tenderly at him and Colin sighed.

Yes, Alyssa loved him. At least, she thought she did – he was sweet and could listen to her for hours when she spoke about the Crusades – and he had no idea of her wealth.

Alyssa had told him the large house they now lived in was the only thing her mother had left her.

Why didn’t she tell him? Aren’t married couples supposed to tell each other everything?
Apparently they were as Colin dropped the bombshell the previous night and, as she walked across the university grounds, she remembered the conversation in glowing and painful detail.
They had enjoyed a few drinks with their meal and perhaps emboldened by the alcohol, Alyssa had asked Colin why their sex life had diminished over the past few months. To be frank, it wasn’t that Alyssa really missed the furtive fumbling of Colin’s attempts at making love but she believed that a good marriage should have a healthy sex life. It was a wifely duty to lie back, think of England and think about the different colours one could paint the ceiling while he poked and prodded at her bits.

‘Don’t you find me attractive?’ Alyssa had asked Colin.

‘Yes…of course…but…’ He had turned pale and Alyssa’s fine mind knew at once that she had touched a raw nerve and pressed him further.

‘But what?’

‘It’s just…’

‘Just what?’


‘You have someone else?’

No! Of course not!’

‘Then what? I’m not attractive enough for you? I’m too fat, aren’t I?’

‘You’re not fat! You’re voluptuous.’

‘That’s man-speak for fat!’

‘No,’ Colin protested,’ it’s not. I love your curves.’

‘Colin, please tell me!’

Perhaps Colin was also fortified by the drink as he suddenly admitted to Alyssa that he was submissive.

‘What is that?’ Alyssa asked, suspecting some obscure disease.

Colin had blushed a deep red and he mumbled, ‘I’m sexually submissive.’

Alyssa pounced on that with interest and little by little, bit by bit, extracted a bare description.

‘You want me to boss you around?’ Alyssa sat back, nursing her drink, watching the squirming Colin.

‘Yes,’ he mumbled, ‘something like that.’

‘You don’t want me to spank you or something, do you?’ Alyssa laughed and Colin said nothing while realisation dawned. ‘Oh my, you do! I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t hurt you.’

Colin avoided her eyes, drained his drink and announced, ‘I’m going to bed.’

When Alyssa had finished in the bathroom, Colin was asleep in their bed or, at least, he was pretending to be. Alyssa lay in the dark and tried to resolve what he had confessed. I’ll do some research, she told herself and with that solid and comforting thought, she gradually fell asleep.

Colin had risen early and vanished to the cellar. He had converted one end of the cellar into a study with a desk and computer for his writing. An old double bed was against one wall and the rest of the cellar was bare.

Alyssa knew she could march down there and demand further explanation but decided it was time for research. Not even bothering for breakfast, Alyssa had dressed and marched to the university.

Finding one of the faculty research rooms free, Alyssa sat at the computer and began to hunt for data on submissive males. The room was silent except for the relentless click of the mouse and muttered comments, usually accompanied with a shake of her head.

There was so much data, so many web sites that Alyssa became so immersed in her research that time flew and she was still working after lunch.

She was so engrossed in her research, Alyssa didn’t hear the door open and turned with a startled gasp when a voice said, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know this room was being used.’

Alyssa looked up into the bemused face of Nerrina, a dark hair woman with flashing eyes and an accent Alyssa couldn’t place. Seeing that Nerrina’s eyes were on the screen, Alyssa quickly closed the web site she had been visiting and forced a smile to her face.

‘I shouldn’t really be here,’ she said, gathering her notes and pushing them into her small leather case.

Nerrina watched her and smiled broadly. ‘I’m Nerrina Lasing,’ she volunteered.

‘Alyssa Reynolds.’

‘I’ve seen you around a lot but we’ve never met. What faculty are you in.’

‘Actually,’ Alyssa said with a quick smile as she slipped her coat on, ‘I’m not in any faculty.’

‘Oh,’ Nerrina said, obviously surprised, ‘you’re a student? That’s a lovely coat, by the way.’

‘Thank you. I’m not a student either, although I was but I completed my doctorate in Medieval history sometime ago.’

‘How interesting,’ Nerrina said with a smile. ‘I couldn’t help notice the site you were browsing. It didn’t appear to have much relevance to Medieval history?’

Alyssa flushed deeply. ‘No, it wasn’t,’ she said evenly. ‘The room is all yours.’

As she attempted to push past the other woman, Nerrina placed her hand on Alyssa’s arm and smiled. ‘I’m sorry, that was mean of me. It’s just that I’m a lecturer and researcher in psychology specialising in sexual behaviour and I thought I could help. Would you like to talk?’

Searching the other’s eyes, Alyssa wondered if she could trust the other woman. It’s only research, she told herself, she’s a specialist and knows the subject. It would be good to talk about it all.

‘All right,’ Alyssa said slowly and then smiled. ‘Would you like a coffee?’

Nerrina nodded. ‘Let’s get away from the university so we can talk freely. We can walk down to the high street, it’s not too cold, is it?’

When they were settled in the back of a warm café and sipping coffee, Nerrina smiled and said, ‘so, tell me about it.’

Alyssa had been wondering how to start and had concocted a story while they had been walking silently to the café. ‘I have this friend,’ she said hesitantly, ‘and her husband has suddenly told her that he is sexually submissive.’

‘I see,’ Nerrina said, smiling softly and stirring her coffee. ‘And this friend has a name?’

‘Ah…I’d rather not say…’

Nerrina smiled again and said gently, ‘Alyssa, if I’m to help you, you must trust me. I’m not going to run off and tell people, I will respect your confidentiality. It’s your husband, isn’t it?’

Alyssa stared at Nerrina for a moment and then sighed. ‘Yes, it is.’

‘What is his name?’

‘Colin and he told me last night after a few drinks.’

Nerrina smiled knowingly. ‘Let me tell you that it is rather common to find some men sexually submissive. There’s rather a lot written about it.’

‘So I found,’ Alyssa said dryly and Nerrina laughed.

‘It usually takes a few drinks before men open up and talk frankly about their sex lives. It would be so helpful if men were like us, wouldn’t it?’

Alyssa laughed and realised she rather liked this calm woman sitting opposite her. ‘Yes but not too much like us,’ she said slyly.

‘No,’ Nerrina giggled, ‘it’s useful to have a hard cock every now and again, isn’t it?’

That comment brought a flush to Alyssa’s cheeks but she resisted the urge to look around the café to see if anyone heard and just laughed. ‘Yes, it is.’

Under Nerrina’s skilful questioning, Alyssa poured every thing out and how the space between Colin and herself was going to be awkward.

‘It doesn’t have to be awkward,’ Nerrina said calmly. ‘Another coffee or,’ she said with a wink, ‘fancy a glass of wine? It is almost three.’

‘Yes, I’d love one,’ Alyssa said immediately and sighed. She felt so much more relieved now she had told Nerrina and that this submission was rather common amongst males. ‘How do I stop it being awkward? I don’t think he will want to talk about it.’

‘You must force him,’ Nerrina said firmly. ‘This issue must be addressed, otherwise it will just fester. You must find out some details from him so we can see if this is a new condition or he has experimented elsewhere.’

‘But what do I say? I can’t just walk up to him and ask him to tell me about it, can I?’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t think…how would I do it?’

‘That’s easy, I’ll help you. Ah, good, here comes the waiter. Do you fancy white wine or red?’

Alyssa was feeling so relieved, she decided to live dangerously. ‘Let’s be naughty and have a glass of red.’

Nerrina smiled. ‘I agree, it’s fun to be naughty.’

Colin had attempted to work on his play but without success as he kept returning to his faux pas of the previous evening.

‘Why oh why did I blurt that out?’ he muttered as he tapped sadly at the computer.

Colin was, in reality, not much of a writer and had never been published or even close to being published. He was not obsessed by it, it just seem like a good idea at the time to tell Alyssa that he was a writer. Funnily enough, she appeared to be impressed, even after he had made up the content of his fictitious play and included that stupid dog!

It didn’t seem to matter to her. Alyssa was not at all concerned he didn’t have a job and seemingly happy to financially support the struggling writer.

When they married, he had pulled a few items of furniture into the cellar to make an office where he could work in peace, to complete his ‘masterpiece’.

The truth was, he didn’t want Alyssa to see that he was creating absolutely nothing. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried – he had written many pages – but even he could see it was rubbish.

‘Why did I tell her I was submissive?’ Colin asked himself that question countless times during the day.

Although he had never experimented with submission, he had fantasised about it many times. It was a secret and constant fantasy and Colin had always been attracted to strong women. That was why he was attracted to Alyssa.

For a start, she was taller than him and seemingly wealthier and more successful. Alyssa was also smarter and far more intelligent and he had hopes that she would be the superior and dominant woman he had fantasised about when he masturbated.

And then, there was her beauty, as Alyssa possessed, in Colin’s eyes, a cold and remote beauty that added an illicit value to his secret fantasies. He had some of the best orgasms of his young marriage while masturbating and dreaming of Alyssa.

And then, he had to bloody tell her!

‘I’ll just pretend it didn’t happen,’ he muttered to the computer screen, ‘I’ll tell her I was drunk.’

The fact was that Colin’s idea of submission was just a fantasy, that he had never submitted to any woman in his life and his masturbatory dreams were far from reality.

No Amazonian woman was going to stride in and throw him to his knees and make his submit. It wasn’t going to happen but he still dreamed of it, needed it.

Colin’s life had been aimless and he needed direction and his sexual fantasies became an important cornerstone in his life. It was just a fantasy, he told himself, that’s bloody all!

Fantasies are safe until they come true.

Colin heard the door close above him and high heels on the floor. As he listened, he heard the feet stumble a little and he wondered if Alyssa was drunk.

‘Not drunk,’ he admonished himself, ‘she never gets drunk – perhaps just tipsy.’

Why would she drink during the day?
Doors opened and closed and then he heard the toilet flush. Music filtered down and he guessed Alyssa had put on a CD – it was, he could hear, Dean Martin – when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie.
Alyssa loved lounge music – Colin assumed it was just her taste but that was not the case– Alyssa loved lounge music because it was simple, light and definitely not Shelby Spring!

‘I should go up there,’ Colin murmured. ‘What will she say?’

Alyssa was seated at the dining table when Colin finally timidly emerged. Food was on two plates and Alyssa held a wineglass in her disdainful hand.

‘Good evening,’ she murmured and Colin smiled shyly at her as he sat. ‘I hope you like fish.’

‘Of course,’ he hurriedly said, ‘it sounds…

‘What I don’t understand,’ Alyssa said, cutting Colin off in mid sentence, ‘is what you get from this sexually submissive thing!’


‘I mean, you want me to tell you what to do? You get aroused at that?’


‘You do? It’s just absolutely incredible.

Colin managed to clear his throat and give a nervous smile. ‘Look, it’s all a bit strange. I said that…’

‘It’s not true?’

‘Well…I suppose it’s…’

‘Suppose what?’

‘It’s true…’

‘So you are submissive?’

‘Well…I mean…I think…’

‘Out with it, for gods sake!’

‘Yes! I am!’

There was a long silence and Alyssa examined her wineglass for an equally long moment. ‘I see,’ she said at last.

‘I’m sorry, Alyssa,’ Colin began but she cut him short.

‘Yes, I’m sure you are. Have you been submissive to anyone else?’

Colin was shocked by that. ‘Of course not,’ he said firmly, ‘I haven’t…’

‘Found anyone else? Have you looked?’

He wilted under her flinty eyes and played with his food. ‘No, I haven’t,’ Colin murmured. ‘It’s not easy to admit to someone…’

‘I’m sure it isn’t,’ Alyssa cut him off and sipped her wine again. ‘Why did you admit it to me?’

‘Ah…I love you…I wanted the truth…our sex life…’

‘…hasn’t been much, has it?’

‘Ah…no…it could be better…’

‘If I give you a spanking?’ Alyssa laughed coldly and Colin blushed deeply. ‘I’m at a loss to understand what I receive from this!’ Alyssa filled her glass with wine and stood up. ‘I need to think about this entire sad affair.’


‘Let’s explore your submissive side, shall we?’

Colin looked up hopefully and then shrank under her fierce eyes. ‘You can clean up the kitchen and put the dishes in the dishwasher while I retire to think this through.’

Nodding furiously, Colin glanced at his wife’s cold and disdainful eyes and found it arousing.

‘I also think you can sleep down in the cellar with your computer tonight, I need some time alone.’

As Alyssa settled herself on the sofa in the living room and half-watched television, she heard the dishes being cleared from the dining table.

At least he helps now, she thought savagely,

he might even clean the bathroom! If I order him to leave the toilet seat down instead of asking, he may bloody do it!
After he had cleaned the kitchen, Colin had crept downstairs to the cellar and lay on the double bed, staring at the ceiling.

He could hear movements above him and assumed Alyssa was getting ready for bed.

Why on earth did I tell her?

If Colin could take back that confession, he would have immediately done so but, of course that was impossible.

Alyssa now knew and he had found it arousing when she coldly stared at him, the way she disdainfully told him to clear the table.

His fingers rubbed his stiffening cock through his trousers as his imagination took flight, visualising his submission to the disdainful Alyssa.

However, Colin resisted temptation and did not masturbate. She might decided to try dominating me, he reasoned, and I should be ready.

Maybe, he thought, I should be glad I told her. There is a chance she’ll attempt domination.

There was another chilling thought that doused his hopeful imagination like a bucket of cold water on an aroused dog!

She may be totally disgusted with me, Colin suddenly thought,

and throw me out, divorce me!
Where would I go?
He heard a toilet flush overhead and he stared at the ceiling, suddenly frightened of the consequences.

Why on earth did I tell her?

First Published 2004

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