Barbara and I had rented an apartment and were decorating it for use after our approaching wedding. As the date approached, we had had intense discussions (Barbie called them arguments) about arrangements and related issues, i.e, where we would live - I wanted to live a fair distance from either set of parent - She wanted to rent an apartment her parents owned which was close to her parents residence. She won. I wanted a fairly informal wedding - She wanted long dresses and Tuxes. She won. In decor, I preferred comfortable overstuffed furniture - She wanted French Provincial. She won.) I could go on for some time with this but suffice to say that in our discussions, she nearly always won. When she did not, it was, in retrospect, an unimportant item.
This particular evening, we had been repainting the kitchen to suit Barbara. When we finished, she said, "Sit down Bob, we have to talk." I sat, not knowing what to expect, but from the no-nonsense tone of her voice, I knew it was something serious. "Our wedding is only a little while off, now, but it is not too late to call it off," she started. "What do you mean 'call it off?," I blurted, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you." She smiled and said, "I know you do, poor dear, and I love you too. I love your tenderness, your consideration, and your willingness to give me my way. However, marriage is forever, and I am not sure I can accept a life of arguments. That is all I have heard in my family, and I don't want that for me." I started to speak, but she said "Hush, now, I know you are going to say it doesn't have to be that way, and IT DOESN'T. But the only way that will work is if one of us is recognized as the head of the house. I know traditionally that would be you. I cannot accept that. I happen to believe quite sincerely that it is natural for the woman to lead. I was going to broach this after the wedding, but I think it is fairer to clear the air now before anyone is hurt. I must be the undisputed head of the house. What I say is law, and you had better accept that. That will start in the Bedroom, where I will dictate how often and, just as important, how we have sex. It will extend from there to all areas of our relationship. I will set the household chores that I expect you to do. I will be in total charge of our social calendar. You will give your paycheck to me and accept whatever allowance I feel is required. There will never be any discussion of what you wear; I will lay your clothes out and you will put them on. You will learn that profanity is not permitted in my home. Usually I shall drive and you will sit in the passenger seat. When I go shopping, you WILL accompany me without complaint. You will not argue with me about anything. Is all that clear?"
I was astounded. I sat there mute for a couple of minutes. Finally I said, "You are serious, aren't you?" "I have never been more serious about anything in my life," she answered, "And if you cannot accept it in total, Bob, I am afraid, much as I love you and you love me, that I will have to cancel the wedding. Again, Is that clear?"
I stammered, "Can I think about it?" Again she smiled at me and said, "I expect you to. I am going to the bedroom while you think it over. As a symbol of your acceptance of my terms, I want you to come to me there, and ask me to give you a spanking. If you cannot do this, I doubt if you can permanently accept your life as my inferior. You have fifteen minutes, after which, I shall leave, and you and I are a thing of the past. Is that clear?" I tried to start a discussion, and was told, "I only want to hear, 'yes ma'am' from you," Her stare was determined and a little cold. "Yes ma'am," I said with my eyes lowered. She took her purse, walked back to the bedroom, and I just sat there, stunned. I could not envision life without Barbie.
I won't go into detail on what I thought during those few minutes I had been given. With a couple of minutes to spare, I opened the door of the bedroom. She had a very sweet smile on her face. "That's my good little boy, I really did not doubt that you would surrender. The next ten or so minutes are going to be very painful for you, physically, but when it is all over, you will be much happier. I am naturally the stronger of the two of us. Let's face it, Bob, John Wayne you're not. Inside you have already accepted your place. We just have to formalize it!" She reached for her purse and took out a hairbrush, smiling at the look on my face. "You didn't expect me to use my hand, did you? I brought this along specifically for this moment. Now get over here and let's get this bit of unpleasantness over with. But from here on, you are on your own. I want you to fold my skirt back and get across my lap without being told" I stepped to her right and folded her skirt back, revealing the legs I loved so much. She unbuckled my belt and lowered my pants to the floor. Then, with a wicked smile, she lowered my skivvies to the same point and said, "Now we are ready, you know what you must do." But I could not bring myself to lower my body. My mouth was dry. I just stared at the tops of her stockings. Again there was that little smile on her face, and she said to me, "Come, come, dear. You know you really want to get across my lap. You want to surrender. You have accepted your new life as my husband and my inferior. You just have to take the first of what will, I am sure, be many, many spankings for displeasing me in little ways. I hope you understand that. Also, I will use spankings and other punishments to enforce my will whenever I please. You do understand?"
I couldn't think of anything to say but "Yes ma'am." That is what she wanted to hear, "Then be a good boy and get across mommy's lap. I'll bet you like to hear that, don't you? No more trying to be a blustering he-man, just mommy's little boy. Come on, sweetie, get in position."
I think I gave a little sob as I lowered myself across her knees and waited the first swat. It was not long in coming. She brought the hairbrush down with all her force, and I yelped. She gave me a couple more and then stopped. "Dear, this is going to take quite a while. You will be crying like a baby before I let you up, but try to control the yelping. We don't need the neighbors to know I am spanking you. You are not a man, but try to act like one for a few minutes." Then she resumed the spanking. I started to count to myself, but soon lost count in the pain I was experiencing. It went on and on covering my backside and the backs of my thighs. She would pause periodically to verbally reinforce what our married life would be, then simply continued to rain the spanks of my backside which after five minutes was beyond being described as in pain. It was something beyond that. I was blubbering, crying incoherently, but I had quit kicking my legs, and quit saying, "please stop." I just lay across her lap knowing that Barbara was now in complete charge. I would never be able to meet her gaze or argue with her again. Finally she stopped, and told me to get up. "I know it must hurt more than anything you have ever experienced." She continued, "But you will be much happier for the remainder of you life. You have done something more men should do - accept their inferior position to their wives. I'm going to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. After you have composed yourself a little, you may join me," and she very coolly straightened her skirt and left the room.
I lay on the bed and cried for probably fifteen minutes; it hurt so bad. After a little while longer, I went to the bathroom to wash my face. Then I entered the kitchen with my eyes lowered, I could not look her in the eye. "Welcome to the rest of your life, honey," she said. "Just keep in mind that Barbara does not want to argue. She will set the rules in our home, and you will obey them - INSTANTLY. If you do, you will reduce the number of punishments Barbie will have to give you." There was really only one answer, "Yes ma'am." For better than twenty years I have used that phrase daily.....Twenty happy years.
Bob
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BARBIE'S WAY II
An Addendum from Bob's Wife
Bob and I owe thanks to one of my sorority sisters. She came from a home where Mother was boss, the disciplinarian and final authority. Mom's discipline was applied even handed to her children AND HER HUSBAND. She shared this with some of us who were closest to her. It immediately fascinated me as I had come from a home of constant bickering, and shouted arguments. In the course of "pillow conversations" with her, I found that her home was quiet, her father, considerate, and her mother, happy. I decided then, that this was what I wanted. Bob is accurate to an almost embarrassing degree in describing the evening he accepted his place. I was certain that if I could get him to submit to a spanking that had the stated purpose of establishing me as the authority in our marriage, and I made that spanking one that reduced him to a child-like state, he would never, ever again be in a psychological position to challenge me. For us, at least, it worked.
One incident about five years ago illustrates this. We were in after dinner conversation with our two daughters, ages 15 and 13, when the fifteen year old said that our home was so happy when many of their friends said that there was constant fighting in theirs. "How have you done it?" she asked. Bob and I had discussed if and when we should share our arrangement with the girls, and had pretty much decided to "play it by ear" This seemed to me the proper time. "Shall I tell them, or you?" I asked. Bob blushed a little and said that I should. I did not go into explicit details, but that evening the girls found that Dad's quiet acceptance of my wishes was not accidental, that I frequently found it necessary to put him over my knees. I am not sure the older one was totally surprised, but she said nothing to indicate she suspected, unless the original question was it.
Since that evening, life has been even less complicated. There is now no reason to wait until both girls are out to correct Bob. If I am a little displeased, we simply excuse ourselves and go to our room where I give Bob what he has coming. The girls can hear the spanking, but they are very good about making no comment when we return. I would not be surprised if I am raising two future DWs. They will never witness a spanking, but they have no doubt that Dad gets them and they can see the beneficial results in our home.