Ethan and I met on a forum for Christian singles interested in the domestic discipline lifestyle. While he had grown up in such a household, I had been fatherless and spoiled all my life. At the time I wasn't sure it was something I wanted for myself but I was curious.
There has always been something in me that has been attracted to the concept of submission and to men worth the honor of my submitting to them. I don't know why. I've long since given up asking myself that or trying to decide if I'm crazy or kinky, or whatever. I've learned to just accept myself the way I am and I think I'm lucky, because many people live their entire lives and never do.
About Ethan. He's 6'2, and clean cut with hazel eyes and a good build from working on his father's farm. He majored in agricultural science in college. Highly intelligent, affectionate, and a real Southern gentleman, he completely swept me off my feet from the very beginning. I never stood a chance.
We had our differences. I was a city girl and I'd majored in English, being more of the scholarly type than he was. I intended to study library science in graduate school, but ended up being a housewife instead. I reign Queen over a nice house with a fair sized amount of land. I spend my days making things nice for myself and my family. Being June Cleaver may not suit everyone, but it suits me.
Despite my curiosity, at the time of our marriage I was still very unsure about the whole domestic discipline thing. Ethan was though. He maintained that his parents had practiced it for twenty five years of marriage and were completely happy. And he was right. His parents are the kind of people that other couples look to in envy.
But that wasn't what led me to accept his proposal. I married him because I was truly, deeply, whole heartedly in love with him. When you're in love, you're willing to do anything in the world for that special person. I knew that Ethan loved me and I knew he'd never hurt me, so when he asked me to marry him I never had a second thought.
I didn't go into the marriage without apprehension. Despite what I'd read and conversations we'd had, I wasn't sure quite what to expect. He never once tried to lay a finger on me during our courtship. "A man has no business spanking a woman who isn't his wife any more than he has making love to her." he told me once.
As the date of the wedding grew nearer I had many questions about myself. Could I really be the woman he needed me to be? Would the life of a housewife really be fulfilling? What about the discipline? What if I came to fear or resent Ethan? What if I wasn't tough enough to take it?
His mother had the most helpful answer to that last one.
"It isn't about being strong or tough. The point of the whole thing is to eliminate stubborn, stiff-necked tendencies. It's not about power...it's about giving up power. It's about complete trust in your mate. Do you trust Ethan?"
Yes, I did. And that's why I married him.
Our honeymoon was just like anyone else's would have been. We were away for two glorious weeks with only each other to think about. He was my first and I was his, and that's a rare thing in this day and age.
Once we were back we set to work starting our new life together. I bustled around getting our nest in order and he went out and worked on the farm. I was happy, but still had a slight, edgy feeling of dread. I knew what my expected wifely duties were and I was still afraid of disappointing him.
It was toward the end of the first week back from our honeymoon as we were sitting on the porch steps drinking iced tea and watching the sun go down when he said casually, "Tomorrow I plan to give you your first spanking, Beth."
My fingers tightened nervously on the glass. "But I haven't done anything wrong."
"No. You've been wonderful. This is just how this kind of relationship is kept healthy and well oiled. Regular discipline keeps gender roles firmly in place, and frankly, I think it's good for woman's emotional nature. My mother....who by the way gets one spanking a week...says it's a good stress reliever. Honey, you've been like a hampster on a wheel all this week."
"I've been busy."
"I know. And a good cry will be good for you." he said in a reasonable tone" And too....there's an intimacy to it. You don't understand yet, but you will."
"Tomorrow night after dinner. If it makes you feel any better, I'm nervous too. I've never spanked a woman before."
This was not overly comforting. It must have showed on my face.
"I won't enjoy hurting you, you know. Some things are just necessary. It hurt when I took your virginity, didn't it?"
Yes, it had. And I was still so tight that I felt discomfort whenever we made love...but the reward was well worth it. That's just how some things are in life. I set down my glass and snuggled up against him. "I love you Ethan. Whatever you want."
The moment of reckoning came after dinner the following day, just as he had warned me. Ethan had come in from checking the animals and said simply, "Beth, go up to our room, undress and wait for me in the chair by the window. I'll be up after the news. Sit quietly and prepare yourself for your spanking."
I did as he asked, following his orders with shaking hands and fingers. It was alarming to be so at the mercy of another person, and yet what a beautiful thing to have such love and trust.
I had to wait for a torturous half hour. I knew it would hurt and dreaded it. "If a man doesn't bring his wife to tears, then he has failed her." Ethan told me once. "Tears show that the spanking has done it's job. Trust me....you'll understand when you experience it."
Nervously, I glanced at the basket beside the chair. It contained a cane, a belt, and a bath brush. I had a horror of the cane from an account his mother had told me of one being used on her once. She'd had welts for a week afterwards, but oddly enough, didn't seem to mind. "I'd deserved it and after it was all over, I thanked him sincerely." she'd summed it all up.
I could not imagine myself thanking anyone for putting welts on me and hoped I would never have the occasion.
My eyes moved to the belt, a supple length of thick brown leather. It looked wicked, like a whip out of some movie about the Middle Ages. The bath brush didn't look much better as it was heavy and made of thick, solid wood.
It was a relief when he finally came but there was a steely look to his eyes and a note of authority in his voice that was new to me. He sat down near me on the edge of the bed and said, "I'm going to spank you because I love you. I'll be gentle this first time but it will still hurt. A spanking must hurt to be effective. Every Friday at this same time I intend to spank you. After this I'll want you to come up here and get ready without being told."
He paused, as though waiting for me to reply, but I was silent, head bowed. Suddenly I felt very humiliated by the whole thing and couldn't meet his eyes. He was my best friend and lover but suddenly he had an air of authority about him that I felt compelled to respect. It was like sitting beside a stranger.
"Come over here and lay across my lap." he instructed.
For the first time ever I didn't want to go to him. At the same time, I knew I had to or it would only make things worse. Besides which, I wanted him to be pleased and proud of me, and that more than anything gave me the strength I needed to cross the distance between us.
My heart was pounding very fast as he hooked one arm around my waist to secure me over his knee. I felt ridiculously awkward and ungraceful hanging there like that like a bad little girl being punished for having a messy room. After one final warning to stay still, it began as his hand came down soundly on my bottom. It stung, but I think I was more startled by it than hurt. His hand came down again and began a constant rain of solid swats.
I closed my eyes and was glad he couldn't see my face which I'm sure was scarlet. Yet despite the humiliation, I was experiencing an odd sort of epiphany as I lay there over my husband's knee while he spanked my backside redder than my face. There was something strangely comforting about giving myself over to him so completely. I became more aware of my femininity and I became aware of a strange undercurrent of sexual energy that was almost palpable.. Maybe it was just because he'd never seemed so strong and...male...before.
"I think you're having a little too much fun." he commented, though there was a slight twinge of amusement in his words. He almost sounded like himself again, my best friend, rather than the authoritarian stranger that he'd become when he'd walked in the room. I felt him lean down and reach under the bed for something and had only a moment to feel concern before something slapped across my bottom so hard that I gave an involuntary shriek of pain and surprise. It felt like the sole of one of my slippers, which indeed it proved to be.
Now he spanked me harder and faster and I realized that he had been gentle before. What I didn't realize was that he was still being extremely gentle...it just didn't seem so at the time. My bottom was starting to burn like fire and I was beginning to wonder if he'd ever stop. It was getting to be a struggle to stay still and accept what he was giving me. Again and again the slipper found it's mark, searing my already chafed skin. I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to hold out.
Finally I broke. Without warning, as suddenly as water spilling from a glass, all resistance ran out of me and I started to cry. For a moment I sensed hesitation on his part but then he only spanked me harder. I continued to sob quietly for another five minutes or so and found it strangely cathartic. It was just such a relief to give in to his will and submit myself to him body and soul. I've never felt anything quite so profound.
It was a few seconds before I realized that he'd stopped. When he let me up and I looked in his face I saw strong emotion in his eyes. Realizing that he'd also found this hard overwhelmed me with love for him.
I slid to the floor and settled between his knees. "Thank you." I whispered, wiping away tears. It just seemed to be the right and natural thing to say somehow. I felt lax and warm and very aware of my femininity...of his masculinity as well. "Ethan....let me..." I whispered, reaching for the button of his jeans. "Let me do this for you. I want to love you like this...right here...on my knees." Another thing that felt completely natural although I'd never done it before.
Eyes bright with passion, he nodded.
I unfastened his pants and freed his erection. Although I was inexperienced, I let instinct guide me. I made love to him with my mouth, sliding my lips up and down his length. His evident pleasure emboldened me and I found myself intoxicated by his musky, masculine scent and taste. I found that I was getting as much pleasure in giving as he was in receiving.
"Get ready, Beth." he ground out with sudden urgency.
Hot, sticky fluid filled my mouth. After the first shock I found that the sensation gave me pleasure. There was just something so raw and intimate about tasting my husband's semen while my backside still tingled from his spanking.
We locked eyes while he finished and then he said gruffly, "Come here."
This time I had no hesitation in climbing into his arms. Urgently, almost roughly, he pulled me onto the bed and laid me on my back, parting my thighs.
I hadn't realized how desperately aroused I was until his fingers plunged inside me and he lowered his head to lap my swollen clitoris with his tongue. My senses already heightened by the spanking, it took all of thirty seconds for him to make me writhe and claw at the sheets with a pleasure so intense that it almost bordered on pain.
Afterwards he held me, and I found myself crying again, though I couldn't think why. "Now you understand." he told me, kissing my forehead.
"Did I please you?" I asked wistfully.
"Very much --- I'm so proud of you. You held so still for me and...well....what came after was a nice touch. I can't think of any better way for a woman to show submission and love to her husband than that."
"I enjoyed it...I liked how you tasted."
"So you should. It's natural for a woman to crave her husband's body.....as I crave yours."
I drifted off to sleep shortly after that, wrapped in his arms and the sweetness of his words feeling utterly content, satisfied, and surrendered.