The Oppressed Housewife

I imagine some ladies would think that being a traditional wife and subject to the rules and discipline of my master makes me oppressed. They may see me as either the "poor dear" who is kept in a chastity belt and out of sight or the weird lady who enjoys being abused.

Being in subjection unto my lord doesn't make me either. I haven't been spanked in about two years. That was a well deserved one of which I pretty much asked for it. It was for my own well being. Tom warmed my bottom so good I won't make that mistake again.

Most of the time the chores are done and we have a good time. Tom supports me well. We love each other. We're what some "emancipated" women might see as boring.

I taught my daughter to cook some simple meals. I even taught our son just enough about cooking and housework so that if he ever finds himself living single he can take care of himself.

Tom has taught our daughter the basics of changing a tire and just enough yard work so she can be independent as well. He mainly teaches our son carpentry, yard work and such. Still, he said it's good if our daughter learns.

It was our wedding anniversary. Tom wanted to take me out.

I arranged for our children to take the bus to his parent's house after school. They would spend the weekend there and come home on Sunday evening.

I took some extra clothes over to Tom's parent's house. We talked a while and I came home. It was just a typical trip; that is, if I had used my head.

I came home and forgot to lock the door behind me.

That was one of Tom's rules. During the day when I am alone the door stays locked. He loves me and doesn't want anything to happen to me.

As I have written, my days are easy. When we stay on top of the housework it doesn't take much to keep a house clean.

So here I am, in the bathroom, cleaning the tub.

I thought I heard the stereo volume go down a bit. I wasn't really sure. You know, it was like it went down, but not enough to really be too noticeable.

So I'm cleaning and singing to myself and I start to get up.

Out of the corner of my eye I see a figure of a man.

My heart about jumps out of my chest and I gasp and the cleaning cloth goes flying. For a second I'm wondering what I'll do.

When I see it's Tom I just stand there waiting for my heart rate to return to normal. That's when I notice his face is red. That's when I notice someone is going to get their but blistered, and it isn't going to be Tom.

"Okay; so you can't keep the door locked?"

So now what do I say? There he is. He snuck up on me. Suppose he was a robber or rapist?

I just hung my head.

"I'm sorry my lord. I wasn't thinking."

Tom just turned and walked out.

I had forgotten to watch the time. I had forgotten to lock the door. I wasn't ready to go. I had failed my master.

Some women would think "so what's the big deal?"

You see, I love Tom enough to not worry him. He loves me enough to protect and supply for me. We each have our role and we love it.

I put away the cleaning cloth and Clorox. I saw Tom had sat down in is recliner.

I went to the bedroom and grabbed the paddle. I took it to him. He looked up as I stood before him

"Here my lord. I deserve it. I shouldn't have made you worry when you walked in. If anything had happened you'd be stuck finding a way to take care of the kids by yourself. It was foolish."

Tom was worried and upset. I don't blame him.

"If anything happened to you I don't know what I would do. You mean everything to me. The kids too. That wasn't smart.

Go put the paddle away. We'll handle this when we get home tonight. Go get changed."

"Yes my lord."

I didn't really feel good knowing I worried him so. You see, we love each other so much we don't take each other for granted. What I did was wrong and I should have taken the time to lock the front door.

I got changed and we went out.

Tom took me to this really nice restaurant. We aren't rich. As a matter of fact we struggle with bills. Still, he set aside enough for a nice meal and a movie. It was really nice.

We talked and laughed and enjoyed the movie. We held hands and strolled down the street like a couple of young kids. It was a beautiful night.

Finally it was time to go back home. It was getting late and our anniversary was about over.

We sat in the park for a while and kissed. We enjoyed the last of our date before returning back to our boring "old people's life."

Tom opened the car door for me as he always does. He's such a gentleman. I could never have found a better man.

At home he sat down and I brought him a cup of coffee. I removed his shoes and put them in the bedroom. When I returned I brought the paddle.

I held it out to Tom.

He didn't take it. It had been about a year since I made him mad enough to spank me.

"Put it away. It's our anniversary."

I continued to hold it out.

"Tom, do you remember back when we decided to live as we do? Do you remember how you said that spanking would be the first of many? Do you remember that I agreed to submit to you because I wanted to spend my life with you?"

"Yea. That was many years ago. We were young then."

"That may be so my lord; but the agreement stands. How we started is how we will end one day."

Tom slowly reached out and took the paddle. I started raising my skirts. Since I was in an ankle length dress and knew I was getting my butt blistered I didn't bother with garters and stockings; just socks.

"Tom, thank you for a wonderful night. Thank you for providing for me and protecting me all of these years. I just hope you won't ever stop. I love you so much."

So many years ago this was so embarrassing. Now it was our life. Now it was our love for each other.

Oh, sure, in a couple of minutes I would be crying. All of the years working hard didn't make him weaker.

Yes, he spanked me just as soundly as he did when we met. I squirmed and cried and fought to keep from covering my bottom with my hands; just as when we had our initial encounter with who is in control.

When it was over we sat together on the sofa for a while. We hugged and kissed and prepared for bed.

Times had changed but our love hadn't. We were older but not one bit less in love.

In a matter of moments my lord and I would go to bed.

The master would reward his girl for her many years of love and joy she spent in subjection to him.

If that makes me the oppressed wife or slave I guess I missed that part. You see, my master provides and protects, controls and disciplines me. He lavishes me with gifts when we can afford; and he punishes me when I need it.

He knows what is best for me and I am his.

I am his wife, his girl, his other half.

He is my love and I am his.