Disciplinary Wife Profile - Helen

“You have to be a man before you can be a gentleman.” –John Wayne (McLintock!)

Hello all.  Welcome back to the Disciplinary Couple's Club.  Our weekly gathering of men and women who are in, or would like to be in Domestic Discipline or Wife Led marriages (aka Female Led Relationships). I hope you had a great week.

A new development in mine is my wife's new, and seemingly sustained, interest in reading and really thinking about Domestic Discipline.  She seems to be arriving at that point some of us talked about a few weeks ago in which she starts really internalizing  this process and doing it because she wants it.  In other words, owning it.  She has powered through a couple of books on the subject.  She's also shown a new interest in this blog, which I came to find out when she announced out of the blue that she objected to, and strongly disagreed with, a comment I made to the effect that I do more of the housework than she does. I may be paying for that one!

What a great discussion last week.  As I said, the last time I posted about that topic I got four comments.  This time we had over 75 (if you include my responses), including a great discussion about the nature of manliness and metaphors for this thing we do, such as the ever popular Queen and her knight.  In relation to the theme of positive views of the male role and the possibility--perhaps the necessity--of being "manly" even within the context of a DD marriage, I saw this article on the myth and reality of another great manliness archetype, the alpha wolf: https://www.artofmanliness.com/articles/how-to-really-be-alpha-like-the-wolf/.  It's an interesting read. I kind of like this website, though a lot of it is aimed at a much younger male cohort, i.e. guys who need help on practical knowledge like learning how to tie a necktie or dress for a job interview, not for the old fart crowd that frequents this blog.

I would also like to welcome our newest Disciplinary Wife commenter, Helen.  She is going to give me a little respite this week from pontificating about a particular topic, by instead telling us about how she and her husband Andy came to be a DD couple.  If any other Disciplinary Wives would like me to post a similar story about how they got here or a profile of their DD or Female Led relationship, just let me know either with a comment here or by sending me an email.  I really would like to seriously ramp up the female participation here, so I hope others will take me up on this offer. For this week, I hereby introduce Helen:

The story of me beginning to spank Andy is a little different than the typical one of the husband finally getting the courage to ask his wife to spank him. We sort of came to it together, which is very appropriate for our marriage because it is not FLR—we make major decisions together. Because we are Catholic, there are some areas where he is rightly the leader: He is our protector, provider, and spiritual leader. But the Bible also says that the wife is the manager of the household, and we have taken that to mean that I am very much in charge of the day-to-day operations and in that realm he is a “servant-leader": Instead of washing feet (as Christ did), Andy washes toilets (LOL). OK, enough religion, but I thought that background was important.

 We had been married for several years when our disciplinary life began. I was a young stay-at-home wife and mother trying to care for a household and a baby with colic and feeling overwhelmed. He was a young professional trying to launch a career and feeling overwhelmed. We had a very traditional marriage: I did the cooking and cleaning and he brought home the bacon.

But I also am three years older than Andy and have always been in a mentor position with him: we met in high school when he was a freshman taking advanced chemistry (he is very smart and is now a chemical engineer) and I was a senior assigned by the teacher to be his lab partner and to “show him the ropes” (though we aren’t into bondage, LOL). I also am much more outgoing than Andy (some would say dominant), while he is more reserved (some would say submissive). So, here we were, a young married couple, both stressed out and bickering constantly about the so-called little things (him not helping around the house, coming home late without calling, leaving the toilet seat up, forgetting to take out the garbage, and on and on and on, driving me to distraction and to be a nag … if not a complete bitch).

I knew something had to change. He acted like such a naughty little boy that I wanted to treat him like one. And to me that meant spanking: I grew up with two younger brothers in a home where the mom was the disciplinarian, and they got the hairbrush over her knee fairly regularly. (I got it a couple times myself, but that is another story.)  Andy also grew up with a mom as the disciplinarian; his dad died when he was quite young. And coincidentally, he also got OTK spankings with a hairbrush (he called it a hairbrush but I later learned it was a clothes brush). We had shared this information about our childhoods with each other while having those exploratory conversations that people have while dating.

So the scene was somewhat set, as they say. One day, when Andy AGAIN forgot to take out the garbage as promised (and missed the garbage truck), and he was complaining about my scolding him for it, I said, “Well, what would your mother have said to you?”

“She wouldn’t have said anything,” he replied.

“She wouldn’t have said anything when you forgot to take out the garbage for the umpteenth time?”

And he blurted out, “It’s not what she would have said, it’s what she would have done.”

And then he blushed to the roots of his hair.

And I said, “What would she have done?”

He didn’t say anything, but I was sort of figuring it out.

“She would have let her hairbrush do the talking?” I asked.

“I’m not saying a word,” he said and quickly left the room.

So I had to read between the lines, which was the way our relationship was back then. When it came to sex or anything really private, we did not talk about it directly.

I figured it was pretty certain that he was saying that his mom would have spanked him for not taking out the garbage, which means she was spanking him maybe into his teen years (we had not ever discussed when the spankings stopped in our respective homes). It also was clear to me that his mom’s spankings worked with him. But what was not at all clear was whether he would accept spankings from his wife.

One part of me would have loved to talk to his mother about this, but I would have been so embarrassed to bring it up. But I started playing very close attention when we visited her, and I noticed more than I had before that there was a lot of “Yes, Ma’am” and “No, Ma’am” coming out of his mouth and that he treated her with a lot more respect than he treated me. I also noticed that very occasionally she would threaten him when he did something she didn’t like. She was very strict, and especially so about language. To her, “Oh my God” and such phrases were a form of swearing. One time we were at her house and he said “Oh my God” and she commented tartly, “You’re not getting too big for your britches, are you, young man?” And he immediately said, “No, Ma’am” and was quiet and respectful the rest of the evening.

Well, I knew very well that the britches line is a euphemism for getting pants taken down for a spanking, and while a lot of moms might use that just as an expression, I knew otherwise with Andy’s mom. Not that she would actually spank him as a 20-something married adult, but that she meant he could use some discipline like she used to provide. And I actually started to wonder whether she made that comment for MY benefit as well as his!

Being a young wife without a great deal of confidence, I did nothing after that. But I did think about it. And eventually I cooked up a plan which may seem quaint to many of you, but this was many years ago and times were different and we just did not come straight out with things. And even today, how many wives would have the guts to say to their big strong husbands, “I think I should start spanking you”?

My plan was tied to my birthday that was coming up. We were in the habit of getting lists from each other and then buying off those lists—not everything on the list, so that it was still a surprise, but maybe half the things. So I put on my list “a hairbrush.” And a couple of weeks before my birthday he came to me and said, “I have a question about your birthday list.”

“Oh?” I said.

“You listed a hairbrush. What sort of hairbrush?”

“Why don’t you surprise me?” I said.

“You don’t like the hairbrush you have?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “It’s cheap plastic. I would like a wooden one.”

“OK,” he said, “what else?”

“As I said,” I replied. “Surprise me.”

“But I don’t know anything about hairbrushes!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” I replied coyly. “Why don’t you ask your mom?”

And I left it at that. I didn’t know if he was reading between the lines—men typically aren’t very good at picking up signals—but I had decided that this would be my test: If he gave me a brush that was obviously good for spanking, I would try to take the next step. If he gave me a brush that was no good for spanking, I would let it go and try to deal with his recalcitrance some other way.

I was nervous and excited birthday morning. He had bought me several presents—I knew none of them was very expensive because we didn’t have a lot of discretionary income—but there was really only one that I cared greatly about. And when I opened the present, it was perfect: a large flat-backed wooden oval with a shaped handle.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“I love it!” I said. (I wanted to add, “But I don’t think you will,” but I was chicken.)

Then Andy brought up spanking! (And I realized that he must have been thinking about it too as he bought the brush, which he later confirmed).

“Would you like me to give you your birthday spanking with it?” he asked (even though we had no such tradition in our young marriage).

I saw an opportunity and I jumped on it. “I think YOU should take my birthday spanking for me!” I said with a slight grin. He just laughed. “No, I’m serious,” I said a bit sternly—and I pointed the hairbrush directly at him. “Come over here.”

And in that moment Andy morphed right before my eyes into a naughty little boy who had been caught misbehaving. He stood up and came to me, with his face burning and his eyes cast down. He stood still by my right side, hands at his sides. I had expected him to bend over, but he didn’t. He just stood there. And then I realized what he was waiting for—for me to take his pants down! Which I promptly did … to find him in a manly way, as they say.

I put him over my knee and started to give him a light-hearted play spanking with my new hairbrush—29 spanks and one to grown on. But as I whacked his bare bottom I started to feel drunk (and turned on) from the power he was relinquishing to me. The spanks got harder and harder until he was grunting. And then my exasperation came to the fore.

“Are … you … going … to ever … forget … the garbage … again?” I scolded, punctuating each word with a hard spank.

“No, Ma’am!” he exclaimed.

“And … are … you … going.. to … call … whenever … you … are … late?” I yelled, continuing to spank hard.

“Yes, Ma’am!” he hollered back, and I could hear the pain in his voice.

“Good!” I said, and paused. “And do you agree that this is what should happen whenever you misbehave in the future?”

He hesitated. I whacked him a few more times. “Yes, Ma’am!” he exclaimed.

I pushed him off my knees and he buried his face in my lap. He was sobbing softly. I stroked his hair. After I few moments I reached down and kissed the top of his head. He turned toward me and we kissed on the lips. It turned into a passionate embrace, and we proceed to have explosive sex right there in the living room. He was all man again, believe me. And that is how it has been ever since!"  

Thank you, Helen!  I hope all the rest of you have a great week.