A Late Bloomer

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A Late Bloomer
By Jennifer Mueler

It's never too late (for a wife to learn) and never too late to teach (a husband). I'm one of the women who started late in life, but it's better than not at all. I hope my story will encourage other women to take up their proper roles in their relationships.

I didn't think I'd ever completely understand the male gender. I grew up with two brothers, I'd been married for over 20 years, and I'd raised two sons. Three generations of men, and I was still bewildered until the day I snapped and took charge.

I saw the things my brothers did, and I knew that in their time, my sons would try the same things. I found the Playboys almost as soon as they brought them in the house; they were no smarter than their uncles were when it came to hiding them. I've heard every excuse a boy could offer for not doing chores or schoolwork years before they were born. I knew that the male mind was obsessed with sex and the avoidance of work.

I accepted my lot to a point. "Boys will be boys," and there is nothing a mom can do except lend her maternal hand where needed every now and then. I expected my sons to behave like boys and they did. I expected more responsibility from my supposedly grown-up husband.

My poor husband! He used to spend hours working at his computer. Every time I stopped by his den, he was busy pouring over spreadsheets balancing the budget for his department at work. I wished he didn't have so much work to take home.

My pity ended and turned into righteous wrath the day he forgot to turn off his computer and I decided to shut it down for him. What I found behind the spreadsheet was a whole world he had literally kept hidden from me. There were pictures, stories and web links to sex sites all over the world. It was like finding my sons' stash of Playboys all over again, only this was a lot worse.

I can understand this kind of thinking in a young boy, they really can't help it; their hormones are stronger than their brains. But my husband was an adult. He had me as a sexual partner. Was I not good enough for him? I could imagine him sitting at the computer terminal, looking at the pictures, reading the stories, and masturbating to them. At first, the thought depressed me then it angered me. Well, if he was going to act like a little boy, I was going to treat him like one!

Alfred knew something was unusual as soon as he came in the door that evening. Instead of meeting him in my sweats and sneakers as I normally kept house, I was dressed in my "Sunday go to meeting," gray jacket, white lace blouse, gray over-the-knee, a-line skit, black stockings and low-heeled pumps. It was my "power outfit;" full of feminine flair yet conservative at the same time. It was a sure winner at my job interviews, and I always felt empowered when wearing it. I needed every bit of confidence I could garner to pull my plan off.

"Oh, hi honey," he said, "What's the occasion. What's with the dress?"

I merely glared at him and crooked my finger menacingly. "Come with me." I commanded with a voice firmer than my stomach indicated. He didn't question a thing and followed me down the hall to his room.

I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into his den. Planting my feet firmly apart, placing one hand on my hip, and pointing with fully extended arm with the other at his computer I said, "What do you call that?" A pornographic picture displayed incriminatingly on the monitor.

A woman has to learn how to read a man. I learned enough from raising a couple of boys to know shame when I see it, and I saw it in my husband's eyes which couldn't meet mine. He bowed his head and muttered some excuse that it was something he, "just found."

"JUST FOUND!" I yelled back. "There must be megabytes of 'just found' smut like that on that machine. Some of it is sick, very sick. Don't you lie to me, boy." I felt like I was scolding a 9-year-old again. "What were you thinking of when you downloaded this stuff." I continued.

"Nothing" he stuttered.

"Nothing? Do you mean you weren't thinking at all? You've been a naughty boy. I'm disappointed in you. You should know better." I almost heard myself say, "Wait until your father gets home," but realized that order in this case, was to be restored by mom - me - now.

"I'm sorry, dear." He tried to stammer.

"Not half as sorry as you are going to be when I get finished with you." I threatened.

"You're not going to leave me or anything?" he asked.

"Not at all! I love you, you fool." I said, "If I didn't love you, I would throw you out; you're worth working on and saving. But there are going to be some changes around here. Obviously you can't be trusted to maintain self-discipline, so I am going to supply that discipline for you. I'm going to give you a dose of medicine to remember your manners by."

I grabbed him by the ear, and yanked him off towards our bedroom. Surprisingly, he didn't resist at all. I was no longer the frightened little girl standing at the front door waiting for him to come home. I was full of feminine confidence. I had control over this situation, and I had control over him. From this point on, it was merely a matter of execution.

"Get those pants off and come over here!" I said sternly.

"What are you going to do?" He asked.

"I think you know what I am going to do. It's nothing less than you deserve."

He swallowed hard and complied with my wishes. Soon he was standing beside me in his jacket, shirt, tie, and underpants! I unceremoniously pulled down his underwear, and merely pointed twice to my lap. This was the same signal I used to give my boys when they were pre-teens to indicate that their punishment was imminent. My husband had no problem interpreting my meaning either. In seconds he had his 200-plus pounds draped over my knees with his naked butt in the air awaiting his desserts.

I decided to warm him up with a bare-handed spanking and stern lecture. "I don't know what I am going to do with you! You are acting like a little boy. Imagine that, a man of your age! You should know better. I bet you think you're such a big man, looking at pictures of naked women like that. Well you know what happens to little boys that do dirty things? That's right, they get a spanking just like they deserve." I went on for about five more minutes lecturing him on his filthy habit, dropping my palm forcibly on his rear end every time I would normally use a comma, a period or just taken a breath.

His rear end was nice and pink by this time, and if it was a tingly and puffy as my hand, I am sure he would not forget this incident for at least a couple of hours. I wanted more than that. I wanted to make sure that he would remember this lesson for at least several days. I reached for my hairbrush. I didn't let off until he was howling and crying with pain.

"Get up," I finally told him. It didn't matter that I was looking up at him as he towered over my petite frame. To me, he was just a naughty little boy who needed some firm and loving guidance to grow up properly. Waving my finger in his face, I continued my scolding, "I intend to spank you as often as you need it until you learn your lesson, young man!" "Young man!" Ha! He was 2 years older than me. My intentions, however, was to deal with him on his emotional level which was at least 30 years younger than mine.

But this, my sisters, is just the beginning of my story. I knew that my husband would need frequent reminders of his new role in our house. The hairbrush merely reinforced my rule as the head of our household. I had my husband put his computer expertise at my disposal, and soon had him looking up sites where women rule and men obey. I discovered great number of resources there. I've developed a network of girlfriends: women like myself who got sick and tired of husbands and boyfriends who couldn't even be considerate enough to put down the toilet seat.

I've learned a lot in my new world. My suspicions that my husband needed to be more attentive and do more around the house were confirmed.

You are not alone. There are many women out there like you; women who have served their men for too long and have had enough. Take a lesson from me and the other women who have done it; take charge of your husband and show him who's the boss. You'll both be better off for it

end of female domination, femdom story