My wife Brenda always ‘wore the pants’ so to speak. I didn’t mind doing more than my share of the household chores and liked the fact that she took the lead in the bedroom. I was infatuated with her and would defer to her in all things. Yes I had submissive streak and Brenda used it to ensure that her pleasure was the number one priority in the bedroom. She made the major decisions in our lives and I was happy with that. Her career was more important than mine and I did what I could to support her. Having said that our sex life and relationship was otherwise a pretty vanilla one. We loved each other and  enjoyed each others company.

Brenda was very close to her mother who still lived in Melbourne. Since we had moved away however her Mothers influence had diminished. We had moved to Sydney for Brenda’s job almost straight after the wedding. Brenda’s mother was a very controlling woman and certainly laid out a lot of Rules during our courtship. She was very old fashioned and would not let us go out without a chaperone. Usually the chaperone was Brenda’s mother herself or if not her sister, Aunty Gretchen. I always had to have Brenda home by 11 pm at the latest, often earlier. Every time I wanted to take Brenda out I would have to ask her mother who would proceed to interrogate me as to where we were going, who else would be there and  if it was a movie or some other entertainment she would have to approve it if it was suitable. It was not unusu

al for me to be refused permission. Often the reason would be that Brenda needed to study or was behind with her chores or simply that it was a ‘family’ night and Brenda was unavailable. Brenda’s father seemed to be under the thumb, he never said much and was always doing jobs around the house. It wasn’t unusual to see him with an apron on doing the dishes or cleaning the bathroom. Brenda’s mother would often interrogate me about my studies, scolding me to study harder, wanting to see top marks and be more ambitious. She didn’t want a good for nothing with no prospects going out with her daughter. She even made me vow to give up alcohol if I wanted to see her daughter and I was expected to be seen at Church every Sunday. I had thought of myself as an atheist up to that point but my infatuation with Brenda saw me convert and become baptised in their Church. I would get a brief few minutes after the service to talk to Brenda. It was worth putting up with all that conversion entailed just for those few minutes each week. Brenda’s mother was quick to pass judgement on me and would tell me things like when I needed a haircut and if my shirt was not perfectly ironed. I was quite scared of her and desperate to be in her good books! I was so in love with Brenda though that I was willing to do anything just to spend more time with her.

We dated for 4 years and the most intimacy we had was a quick stolen kiss when our chaperone wasn’t looking. We both graduated with good marks and had begun our careers when Brenda’s mother finally allowed me to marry Brenda. I had to ask her for her daughters hand in marriage, not her father! 

While we were engaged Brenda’s company gave her a promotion but it meant going to Sydney. It meant I would have to find another job but I was so eager to be away from the influence of Brenda’s mother I had no hesitation encouraging Brenda to accept the job. In front of Mrs Falwell I made out it was a sacrifice I was willing to make in order to support Brenda in her career and her mother approved.

After our wedding and honeymoon we moved to Sydney. The next four years were the best years of my life. A new city, a new job, good income and a beautiful wife who I adored. We were free of Mothers influence, I could drink alcohol again and we stopped going to Church, enjoying our Sunday morning sleep ins and regular love making. Brenda asserted herself as head of the household but she was kind and fairly relaxed. Sex was on her terms but it was fantastic and I was happy to comply as my submissive nature was fulfilled.

Things changed however on the death of Brenda’s Father. We flew down to Melbourne for the funeral and stayed a week. On the night before we were due to return Brenda, Mother (as she insisted I call her) and I were sitting in her lounge room and Mother was distraught with grief. She kept saying she couldn’t bear to live in the house anymore, everything was a reminder of her husband. There was no family left in Melbourne and she

was all alone.

While I felt some sympathy for her, my heart dropped to the floor when Brenda said,

“Why don’t you come to Sydney and live with us Mummy, we have a spare room we could clean out for you, I am sure you would be of great help to both of us, we’d love to have you, wouldn’t we George?”

Brenda looked at me with one of those looks that said “Don’t you dare disagree with me”.

I was crestfallen, I could endure the occasional visit from Mother but living with us permanently was too much to even contemplate! Beside I had turned the spare room into my study, my little male den where I could play with my computers and electric piano. I hesitated and Brenda said in a tone that was none too pleased

“I said wouldn’t we George?”

I quickly succumbed and said

“Of course Mother, we would love you to stay with us.”

Straight away Mother embraced Brenda and was gushing with thanks.

Brenda ended up taking extra leave to help her mother prepare her house for sale and pack her things and I was sent back to Sydney with orders to clear out my study and buy a bed and wardrobe. On leaving I was given a shopping list by Mother.

“Make sure you have bought all these things for my arrival George.”

I was taken aback there was no please from her, it sounded very much like an order. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and said an obliging

“Yes Mother.”

 It was a taste of what awaited me. 

I returned to Sydney and was on my own for a month before Mother arrived with Brenda. 

At first I thought I would continue my lifestyle, the odd night out with friends, TV sport occasionally, I honestly thought Mother would help around the house as she wasn’t working like us two but I soon found out how wrong I was.

It was only the fourth night after she moved in, I had gone for a drink with my mate after work. I did it every now and then and Brenda was always happy to eat something simple that she made herself, I assumed Mother and her could do the same. At 6:45 pm I recieved a text message from Brenda: Mother has called a household meeting for 7 pm, hurry home !

It was a 10 minute walk home from the pub so I could have made it but I thought to myself ‘she has to give more notice than that ‘so I stayed and finished my beer before heading home and was 5 minutes late. I walked into the dining room and sitting in the carving chair, which I usually sat in was Mother, with Brenda on her right. Mother spoke,

“We will deal with your lateness afterwards George now sit down while I tell you what Brenda has agreed to.”

I looked at Brenda and she looked at me with a wry smile, her arms crossed and a look of smugness across her face. Mother nodded her head to the seat on her left and I sat down.

“You love my daughter don’t you George?”

“Of course Mother.”

“You want Her to succeed in her career don’t you?”

“Of course Mother.”

“You want to be a good supportive husband to my daughter don’t you?”

“Of course Mother.”

“SInce moving in here it has become clear to me that your relationship is dysfunctional.  Brenda is so busy with her career that she hasn’t realized what has been happening right under her very nose. I knew from day one George that you are a beta male. Beta males are at their best in supportive, submissive and following roles. They are the drones or worker bees and it is best if they are kept busy in the service of their partner. My late husband was a beta male and a very well trained one at that wasn’t he Brenda? 

“Yes mother, he was very hardworking and supportive to you.”

“Thats right Brenda and he was happy because he knew his place and strived to be the best most supportive husband he could be. It was just the way it needed to be because I am an Alpha female. Alpha’s are leaders, dominants and decision makers. It is best when they are in charge and the beta obeys, simple as that. Brenda is also an Alpha female George and you are a beta male. In the four days I have been here it has become clear that you are acting like a wanna be alpha, and failing to give my daughter the support that a loving beta husband should. This is why your marriage is so dysfunctional.”

I was taken aback to say the least, I didn’t think our marriage was dysfunctional! I did my share of chores around the house and I thought we were happy. I wasn’t going to let her get away with that statement!

“Our marriage is fine Mother, its not dysfunctional at all.”

“I am afraid I beg to differ George and now that I pointed out to Brenda how poor your support has been to her, she agrees with me.”

I couldn’t believe it! I said to Brenda,

“Thats not true is it Brenda?”

I looked at Brenda and she had a cold steely face and was looking mighty serious.

“It is true George. Mother has made me realise how selfish and lazy you are, how I am the main breadwinner and how I have to work the hardest and yet I still do many of the household chores. Mother reminded me of my father and how he was a model of how a supportive husband should be and you are from that George.!”

I was shellshocked! I didn’t realise she was so unhappy. In fact she had never said anyhting like this until Mother arrived. Mother then spoke,

“ Now I have spoken to Brenda and she agrees that this marriage needs a shake up. Since arriving here George , it has become blatantly obvious that you take your duties as a husband far too lightly. You are lazy and selfish! Brenda is the main bread winner in the household and you should be doing much more to support her. You are not living the beta role George. You were not even home to prepare us dinner tonight, you have been out drinking of all things!”

“Its only every now and ….

“Quiet when I am talking to you!”

Mother cut me off and silenced me.

“I have spoken to Brenda and she has agreed to let me train you in becoming a proper beta husband. Haven’t you Brenda?”

I looked at Brenda and saw her nod her head, She was smiling from ear to ear and had her hands on her hips. She was looking quite pleased with herself. I noticed she was wearing stilettos and nylons and at that moment I felt myself become aroused. I knew I would do whatever she asked.

“Thats right, Mother is going to train you!”

“I have the spare time now that I am retired and it is good for me to have something useful to occupy myself with. You remember how well trained Brenda’s father was, I have told Brenda I can provide the same training to you. Surely you agree your wife deserves the best. ”

“What do you say to Mother for this kind offer George?” asked Brenda

“umm,uhh.”

“George!”

She looked at me with a fierceness I had not seen and I knew at that moment what I must say,

“Th,,Th,,Thank you Mother.”

. Then Brenda said,

“I am so glad you agreed George. Now I am off to Auckland on Sunday so you will have three weeks solely under Mothers Rule. I hope to see a big improvement by the time I get back.”

I had forgotten all about Brenda’s business trip, she had told me but I did not realise it was only 2 days away. The full reality of my situation was starting to sink in. Three whole weeks under Mothers sole Rule followed by her ongoing Rule when Brenda returned. I was broken out of my reverie by Mother saying.

“Firstly we have your lateness to this meeting to deal with George. Go fetch the hairbrush off the dressing table in my bedroom.”

I ran to fetch the hairbrush.

“Come now over my lap.”

At first I did not think she was serious. Then she waved her arm, motioning me over.

“Come come. don’t be shy, you’ll be getting used to this George.”

Mother tapped the hairbrush on her thigh as I walked towards her and bent over. She pulled my trousers and underpants to my knees and exposed my bottom.  AS I lay across her ample lap she started to tap my bottom with the back of the hard wooden hair bush. It was an antique hairbrush made to last, they began to sting but this was just her warm up. SHe then laid them on hard, in rhythm with her words. One word one stroke

“Now repeat after me SMACK! . Beta  – SMACK! – husbands- SMACK! are -SMACK! -always – SMACK! punctual SMACK!”

Then  I would repeat with a smack after each word. I must have had to repeat the sentence 50 times! Each stroke really stung and when they started to overlay it hurt even more. My thighs recieved there fair share it was horrendously painful. On top of the physical pain was the emotional pain. Mother made me feel like a naughty little boy having me over her lap in this fashion, my manliness seemed to dissolve, my abject humiliation complete. All the time I could just see Brenda’s heels. This added to my psychological tortue. I had a fetish for high heels but Brenda rarely wore them. Why did she choose this moment to tease me? She was intent on witnessing and adding to my humiliation. 

At last the order came,

“OK , get up, trousers up and on with this!”

I stood up and Mother produced a frilly apron for me to wear. It was white with especially frilly lace sewn around the edges and a pattern of pink flowers.

“Now off to the kitchen and prepare us our dinner. Bring Brenda and I a glass of lime cordial with sparkling mineral water then go and prepare a salmon and pasta salad. Serve two plates in the dining room in half an hour. You are not eating with us. You will be off to bed  without your supper tonight. From now on it is straight home after work for you. You may also consider you yourself tee-total from now on. There will be no alcohol passing your lips again!”

“Yes Mother.” I replied meekly

I went to the kitchen and busied myself with the preparations. I was devastated I had lost my drinking privileges, how would I explain this to my mates?After I served the dinner I was reprimanded for putting too much dressing on the salad and was given another 24 strokes of the hairbrush and then ordered to the dishes and sent to bed hungry. This was a taste of what was to come.

The next evening was Brenda’s last night at home before she left and Brenda and Mother went out for a farewell dinner. I was left behind with a heap of ironing which included all of Brenda’s clothes she was taking away, They had to be ironed and folded and then laid out on the bed to be inspected. I felt a bit resentful as they were bound to be crushed by the time Brenda arrived at her destination and I have to admit to doing a bit of a slap dash job. Ironing was a chore Brenda always did and I was not very good at it. Mother’s container had arrived from Melbourne and there was an absoulute mountain of her clothes that had to be pressed as well. I had only made a small dent in my job when the ladies returned.

They came in quitely and caught me in the kitchen getting a drink. I was startled to see Mother and Brenda when I turned at the sound of Mothers voice,

“If you are in her snacking I take it the ironing must all be done, come show me.”

“No Mother…Its not finished…I was t.t.taking a break.”

I stuttered nervously as I followed her into the laundry. On seeing the pile of clothes that still needed ironing Mother said,

“What on earth have you been doing George while we were out! You have hardly done anything!”

She then walked over to the rack where the dresses and blouses I had ironed were hanging. One by on she went over them, picking a fault or a crease and throwing them in the basket with the un-ironed clothes.

“This one will have be ironed again, and this one and this one.”

She went on and on and in the end was satisfied with just one blouse.

“This is disgraceful George and not up to standard! You will be punished for this! You have obviously not been concentrating on your duty! That is a sign of disrespect to both Brenda and I! I expected a lot more done than this and done perfectly! You are going to learn that a good beta husband is a diligent beta husband now go and fetch the hairbrush!”

I ran to the bedroom and returned with the hairbrush. Mother was sitting on one of the dining room chairs.

“Knickers to knees and over my lap! 

Once more I flushed crimson as I was put into position over Mother’s lap.

“Repeat after me.”

“Beta – smack! – husbands – smack! – do – smack! – their – smack! – chores – smack – diligently – smack – accurately – smack! – and – smack! – quickly – smack”

Once again I had to say the damn sentence about 50 times. It seemed to hurt worse than the hiding from the day before, I could feel any traces of resistance being beaten out of me and felt my pride further shattered when I could no longer hold back the tears and started crying.

“Are they tears I see George?”

“Y y y yes Mother”

I was sobbing but she just mocked me,

“Awww, Georgie crying girls tears…I didnt realise you were a sissy Georgie…I think I better put you in a pinny if you are going to cry like a girl.”

The shame and humiliation I felt at that moment burned through me. It was the first time she called me Georgie instead of George and the feeling in the back of my throat was 100% shame.I must have been redder than a beetroot and looked awfully dishevelled. Mother rifled throught the ironing basket and pulled out a floral pinafore covered in a pattern of pink roses.

“This is more suitable dress for a girl like you Georgie, put it on now.”

Any resistance I may have had was shattered as I meekly donned the pinafore.

“Until you learn to take your punishments like a man Georgie you are forbidden to wear male clothes in this house. Tomorrow I will issue you your new uniform. You are now a sissy husband until further notice. Only when I deem your behaviour has improved will you be allowed to wear male clothes in the house again. Now go an make Brenda and I a hot chocolate and then off to bed. You will set your alarm for 5 am and I hope to see most of this ironing done by the time we go to church. By the way Brenda what time is Church?”

“I don’t know Mother.”

Brenda answered a little sheepishly

“What do you mean you do not know, haven’t you been going to Church since you moved here?”

“No Mother, George convinced me that if my colleagues found out it would be detrimental to my career and really that no one believed in that anymore. he said Church was a load of nonsense and that we shouldn’t waste our Sunday mornings at a boring service.”

I couldn’t believe it! Brenda had been happy not to go to Church anymore, I had never said any of those things to her and here she was trying to put the blame onto me

“Well George I am disgusted! How could you lead my daughter astray like that! You will go out right now and find out what time the service is tomorrow and the three of us will be attending. We will be going early and introducing ourselves to the pastor tomorrow! I will also be giving you some Scripture lessons in you free time. so you can forget about TV and sports for a while.”

Sullenly I went out and walked the two kilometres to the Church to read the sign out the front and see what time the service began. I was surprised to see the pastor was a female, Reverend Johanna Vorster and there was an 8 am service and a 6 pm Service.

When I returned home Mother said I had to rise at 5:00 am, do an hours ironing and then shower and have breakfast served at 7 am. We would be leaving at 7:30 am to give us time to introduce ourselves to Pastor Vorster. After the service there would be just enough time to drop Brenda at the airport and that I could look forward to attending the evening service after my first Scripture lesson with Mother. I was then ordered to make the ladies a hot chocolate before being sent to bed. I went to bed that night with a heavy and despondent heart feeling as if my freedom was quickly vanishing. I was exhausted and fell asleep straight away and did not notice Brenda come to bed. Little did I realise this would be the last night we shared the same bed.

To be continued…..