The 1950s Well Spanked Wife
A place to post tasteful, non-pornographic illustrations and photos celebrating submissive wives and our Type A "Alpha Husbands" who keep us in our rightful…
Hey gals: Now that football season is here, better set the Sunday alarm thirty minutes ahead to 4:30 am so you'll have plenty of time to whip up batter for fried beef jerky for Hubby to snack on while watching his favorite NFL team on TV in the afternoon, plus prepare his hardy breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage, biscuits, flapjacks and T-bone steak and finish your beauty preparations in time for church services.
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I haven't seen such poor ironing technique since early days in my Domestic Sciences classes at State U. Mom started me ironing my brothers' shirts at six years old, so I was an old-hand before I got to college. But some of the other frosh? Talk about terrible. Fortunately, State U's professors paddled coeds for poor performance and they were soon ironing the fraternity men's Oxford shirts dollar-bill crisp. This gal obviously attended a bohemian liberal arts college.
Betcha lots of gals got this speech when Johnny Came Marching Home from defeating the Axis Powers in World War II. Sure "Rosie the Riveter" filled in, but with men back in charge women hurried back to the kitchen as fast as their dainty little feet would take them. And those like this gal who were foolish enough to complain about reestablishment of the Natural Order of Things, were spanked!
With weekday cooking, cleaning, laundering, yard work, long scoldings and spankings from Hubby and a minimum of three hours sex a night, I was always running late making pies for our Sunday night church socials. So when Hubby got me kitchen aides, I was thrilled to pieces. Now that he locks me in the kitchen when he goes to play golf on Sunday afternoons, I'm not tempted to waste prime "baking hours" chattering on the phone with other wives. What a thoughtful man I have!
1950s-style husbands tend to have macho hobbies and my man is no exception. Nothing gets me hotter than when Hubby gets out his slot car racing track. I "ooh and ah" in appreciation as he maneuvers his cars around the track at breakneck speed. When he's done, he leads me to the bedroom, orders me to strip and spanks my bottom cherry red. Then he throws me on the bed, undresses and climbs aboard for another kind of ride!
My husband's pride-and-joy is his state-of-the-art slide projector. Normally he shows slides from our excursions in The Great Outdoors. But, when he recently invited the neighbors by to view pics of "color season," instead of photos from our New England trip to enjoy the fall foliage, he showed slides of my spanked ass! Boy oh boy, was I embarrassed! But I must admit the paddle bruises, cane stripes and hand marks make a wonderful palette.
My expression the last time I drove into the city on the Eisenhower Expressway. Hubby forbids me to drive on the interstate except for emergencies and I have to ask permission a day in advance to make trips on local roads. He keeps track of the mileage on my car. If it's more than it should be, he spanks me. Wise man!
Hey gals, with summer round the bend, it's not to soon for us 1950s-style wives to start planning on pickling cucumbers grown in back-yard gardens behind our spacious 1000-square-foot suburban ranch homes. But don't make the mistake I did with my first batch years ago. I asked Hubby if he wanted to "suck my pickle" and he spanked me so hard I couldn't sit for a week!
My required position on the living room couch when Hubby and I watch the Chicago Blackhawks hockey team on TV. Hubby spanks to vent frustration when the other team scores. He spanks even harder to celebrate Blackhawks' goals and wins! To hear more of our sporting adventures, follow me on Twitter @wellspankedwife
When Hubby relaxes with a good book, I kneel before him with "spanking slippers" in hand. When he gets to a stopping point, rather than "dog earring" the page, he puts me over his lap, lifts my skirt, lowers my panties and gives me the same number of spanks as the page. That way I'll be sure to remember where he should resume reading. Hubby's reading "Moby Dick" right now. Boy oh boy, I sure hope he picks a shorter book next time!