After about six months of dating I was sure I had found the woman of my dreams. The obvious next step was to ask her to marry me so I planned a special night for us. I invited her to my house and we shared a candlelight dinner (which was delicious if I do say so myself). Then we moved to the living room to sit in front of the fireplace. I turned off the electric lights and she was absolutely beautiful in the flickering glow. She sat on the couch and I went down on one knee to make my request and offer the engagement ring. Although I was hoping to hear her say "Yes" I had mentally prepared myself for the possibility that she might refuse me which, in fact, is just what she did. What I was not prepared for was her reason.

"I love you but I can't marry you. I don't think you could live up to my expectations in a husband and then there's the problem of the marriage vows."

I asked for clarification and she said, "You know the part about love, honor and obey? I don't think I could honestly promise to obey you."

Hope flickered briefly as I said, "I don't see a problem. This is the 90's and we can write our own vows. That business about a wife obeying her husband is rather old-fashioned and we can leave that out."

She shook her head. "You don't understand. It may be old-fashioned but that's the way I want my marriage to be. It's not the idea of obeying my husband that concerns me it's that I'm not sure I could obey you the way I think a wife ought to. You're too nice and you let me get away with murder. I guess I'm looking for the type of relationship my parents had. Let me give you an example. What do you remember about that argument we had last week?"

The tiff we had was still fresh in my mind. Part of me was afraid that if I brought out my feelings about it we would just start fighting again but since my hopes for sharing my life with her had already been dashed I figured I had nothing to lose. "The biggest thing that sticks out about it was not just that I was right and you were wrong but that I could tell you knew you were wrong and wouldn't admit it. You kept on pushing your point long after I had proven the validity of my position and I can only guess it was out of pure stubbornness."

She nodded. "That's exactly right. There was really no excuse for my actions and you just let it slide. My point is that I would never have done that in my father's house and neither would my mother. Dad would've seen to that."

I had met her folks and her father didn't seem to be the domineering type but maybe I missed something. "You mean he ruled the house with an iron fist?"

She smiled slyly and corrected me, "Not exactly, it was more of an open palm and a leather strap."

I didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what she was telling me but I wanted to make sure I was following her. "O.K. I understand that he spanked you when you were a child but what does that have to do with your parents and their marriage?"

It was a good thing I was still kneeling on the floor or I would have fallen over when I heard her answer. "You're right about how he punished me but I think he had a different definition of child. As long as I lived under his roof I was expected to obey him or my bare bottom paid the consequences so I guess in your view I was a child throughout high school and college. He didn't believe in someone being too old to get spanked. My point is that my sister and I weren't the only ones to go over his lap when the need arose."

Dumfounded, I asked the obvious. "Are you saying he used that same method of discipline on your mother? Isn't that considered wife abuse?"

She seemed surprised at my interpretation of her words and said, "Yes to your first question and a big `No!' to the second. He didn't beat her up or anything like that. He wasn't a dictator and most of the time he was fun to be with. However, he had a job to be the enforcer of the rules and he took it seriously. We all knew that and nobody held it against him. Whenever any of us, and that includes my mother, needed to be reminded of proper behavior he was there to see it done right. The first time I knew she got spanked too I was just as shocked as you seem to be but I've since come to understand them. They're equal partners in everything and love each other very much but if she was to act as stubborn and spiteful towards him the way I was to you last week, you can be sure the argument would've ending with her over his lap and apologizing profusely. Since they've been married for more than thirty years I guess you could say they're happy with the way they live and that's the kind of marriage I want. I want a man I can love and respect."

She took a deep breath and continued, "And as much as I love you, I also need a husband who will see to it that I obey the rules of our house."

She had been looking into my eyes during most of this conversation but now she dropped her gaze to the floor to show her disappointment at finding only part of her ideal husband. They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach and it looked like that statement would have to be appended. I had a feeling the way to her heart was through her bottom. I put the ring on the end table, took her hand and we stood up to hug each other for comfort in dreams unfulfilled. Then I sat down and pulled her across my knees. She looked at me in surprise and I cryptically explained my actions. "Maybe you won't marry me but one way or the other, I'm going to put an end to that stupid argument we had last week."

The end I had in mind was perfectly positioned under my hand which wasted no time in coming down hard. She yelped for the first swat but was relatively quiet for the next five or six. The important thing was that she was not struggling or complaining but seemed to be passively submitting to her first spanking from me. Now that I had established my intention I could stop for a second to pull her dress up. Unfortunately it was too tight for me to raise the rear hem high enough to expose her bottom as long as she was laying on the front part. However, all was not lost. Fortunately, it was too tight for me to raise the rear hem high enough to expose her bottom as long as she was laying on the front part and it gave her the opportunity to show me her acceptance of my right to punish her by lifting herself off my legs so I could gather all the material and move it up past her waist. The only thing between her bottom and my hand now was a pair of thin and very sexy panties which weren't going to give her any protection to speak of. She did not settle back down immediately and I was too dense to realize that what she was waiting for was for me to send those panties in the other direction. Instead I slapped hand down again and she plopped back into position.

After about a dozen more spanks she asked me to stop for a moment so she could take her dress off before it got too wrinkled. I thought for a moment that this could be a ploy for her to get to her feet and then be out the door but decided to take that chance with one small precaution. I pulled the zipper down her back and pushed the top of her garment over her shoulders as far as I could before I let her up. If there was any doubt in my mind that she wanted this spanking as much as I wanted to give it to her she removed them along with the dress as she explained, "Whenever Dad spanked us we had to take our dress off first and then it was our job to get the strap. This will have to do." She bent over so she could get to my belt which she unbuckled and drew out from my pants loops. She handed it to me saying, "You're going to need this later." Then she put her fingers in the waistband of her panties as she added a final note. "Once Dad had the strap he would put it to one side." She paused until I got the idea and followed her instruction of putting the belt on the sofa cushion next to me. Then she continued with word and action as the panties made a journey down her long legs. "Getting the strap was our way of showing him that we accepted his decision to spank us and taking our panties off before we lay across his lap was a last demonstration of our commitment." Once this skimpy piece of clothing was tossed aside she resumed her former position.

She was beautiful before with the firelight on her face and the sight of her lovely bottom reflecting the dim illumination was no less breathtaking. However, this was not the time for sight-seeing. I must admit I found the idea and the reality of spanking her to be quite exciting and now that I was making contact with her flawless bare skin it was even better. At least it was better for me and in retrospect, it was better for her too.

It took a while but she was really crying by the time I decided to give my hand a rest. Actually, it was when she apologized for the way she acted during the argument and said she was ready for her spanking. At first this confused me. What did she think I had been doing for the last ten minutes? Then I realized she was really telling me to switch to the object she had so thoughtfully made available to me earlier. My hand may have been getting tired from all the work it had to do so far however, she found out my arm still had a lot of life left in it when I used the belt to finish the job. She gave a plaintive vocal expression of discomfort, reinforced her sincerest apologies and responded physically with a significant jump each time it landed. To her credit, it only took a second until she put her rear end back where it was supposed to be so the next swat had a clear and stable target. Even in the limited light, I could see the difference in color between her bottom and the surrounding areas as well as a few more distinctive signs of the belt's multiple visits.

When I felt she had enough I tried to soothe her skin but she stopped me and for the first time, struggled to get up. Of course, I did not hold her down and once on her feet she said, "I was never allowed to rub the sting away. I'm supposed to let the message sink in while standing in a corner. If you don't mind, I'd rather kneel and I know just the corner I want to use." I'm not sure you could really call it a corner but when she pushed my knees apart it almost formed a 90 degree angle by my legs and that's where she chose to reflect on her punishment. Oddly enough, she felt it necessary to open my zipper and as her warm fingers wrapped around me she looked into my eyes. There were still some tears on her cheeks but she was smiling as she said, "I was wrong before. I won't have any difficulty saying I'll obey you and if the offer still stands, my answer is a totally unqualified `Yes'."

As you could probably tell, the spanking wasn't entirely my idea. I think she was doing her best to ask me to give her one so I would have the chance to be the kind of husband she was looking for. And let's not overlook how she took such an active role in making sure I did it right when it came to applying my discipline on her bare bottom and using something as severe as my belt. Nope, there's no doubt about it. This spanking was a mutual effort and most importantly, the end result was exactly what we both wanted. I took her left hand in mine and as her sweet mouth descended onto me I slipped the engagement ring on her finger. Life is good.

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