When Butler, my submissive male, moved in with me I told him that I had sold his golf clubs but actually I secretly stored them for almost two years. Denying him golf was one of the experiences I wanted to give him when he started living as my full time servant. Later, I gave them back because I wanted him to seem that all good things come from my merciful hands. I’ve always given him spare time to pursue his own interests. I consider us a 24/7 couple but I am not interested in standing over him with a whip all day every day. I’m busy.

However, as time has passed and we have continued our various disciplines, I began to sense in him a hunger for deeper humiliations. I also want more of him. To satisfy both our desires, I returned to his hobbies to find a new lever to move him forward. He plays golf about twice a month but I have never played with him because it bores me to tears. When I work out, I want to breathe hard and sweat. Watching him, I began to see golf as a lot more about male bonding, drinking beer, and locker room talk about women. I have decided that I don’t want him involved even briefly in this male centered world.

My problem was how to take something away again in the most effective manner possible. Whenever I consider things like this I try to open the door to wild imaginings and often get over excited. I saw myself taking another lover and having him give my lover his golf clubs because my lover was now the man of the house and he was only a slave. OK, that was a little over the top. I decided that I didn’t need to go that far and I really don’t have time for all of the craziness another man would bring. I also thought about putting him in sub space and having him watch me breaking the clubs over my knees. I had almost decided on that plan but out of curiosity I looked up the cost of his clubs. Holy Crap! I had no idea! Oh, that almost made me return to the lover idea. The difference between men and boys is the price of their toys!

I wanted him reduced and sorry he ever took time to play this stupid game. I wanted to take them from him in bitchy hurtful but stimulating manner or I wanted him to want to freely relinquish his clubs to be sold. I was looking for ideas. I knew that he was ready for this. I understand him. I know when he craves to take a new step in his surrender. My problem is that I am not the all knowing, all imaginative dominatrix some of you who follow me think I am. I am merely a woman on a mission. I’ll use ideas from wherever I can find them. I was perplexed about how to remove golf from my man’s life and replace it with service to me. Take away a man’s hobbies and replacing them with scrubbing the grout in the bathroom floor and one is suddenly talking about making this life very real.

I needed something diabolical. I wanted ending golf to be more interesting than just keeping him too busy to golf or merely creating a new ‘no-golf”
rule. No, it had to hurt. He had to surrender it or it had to be taken in such an evil manner that it made his submissive heart flutter. I thought about having him caddie for women but be denied the privilege of playing. I liked the idea, but again, I find the game boring.

I told my friend girlfriend, Heather, about my challenge. She suggested that she show up for his weekly correction. He hates it when she is there. I swear I don’t try to whip him harder when I have an audience but he swears I give every swing a little more zip if Heather is in the room. I suppose he knows better than I do. Or, maybe his embarrassment makes it feel that way. I don’t know. I do know that Heather loves to watch me whip him. Today she waited until I was done. To her disappointment, it was a moderate amount as he has been a dear the previous week.

He stayed firmly tied to the bench but I could tell he tensed when Heather started talking to him. She is unpredictable. I never know what she’s going to do. She started talking to him calmly about seeing him at our local park golfing while she was running. Suddenly, she started berating him for spending time on such a selfish sport. She really lit into him, calling him names, and insulting him as only she can. She actually went into the environmental aspects of keeping a large area in short grass and the chemicals needed to keep the fairways weed free. Who knew she cared for such things?

Suddenly she left the room. I sat watching him from my throne like chair. In a few minutes, I could hear her carrying his golf bag through the house. I doubted she would break his clubs without speaking to me first so I stayed quiet.

She pulled out a driver and began talking to him about how much such a club cost. She reminded him he could have spent the money on me. Suddenly, she went over to my equipment desk and, after rummaging around, pulled out a tube of lubricant and a pair of gloves. After gloving up, she started greasing the handle of the shaft. It was clear what her intention was. Butler looked horrified but I admit that I started to laugh. Heather can really cut through a problem.

While viciously demeaning him she slipped the handle into Butler’s ass. In her haughty tone she harped, “Of course, you can continue to play golf, but I forbid you to ever clean the handle of these clubs again. I want them to smell like lube and ass juice. Also, before you play, I want you to have Renee inform me that you are planning on playing so we can go through this entire procedure again.” She lubed everyone one of them up and slipped each shaft in him as efficiently as proctology nurse on a busy shift. She gave each club a few strokes but stopped with the putter and gave him a little extra time to enjoy her administrations. During the entire time she never stopped telling him what a wimp he was for letting her fuck him with his own clubs.