The Recalcitrant Wife

Yesterday presented an unusual and troublesome problem.

My beautiful, submissive and attentive wife retreated into her shell and emerged moments later, armed with the attitude of a bolshy, difficult teenage girl. This doesn’t happen very often, but when it does I often find myself wondering whether I’m dealing with a troubled wife or a rebellious daughter.

When this happens (albeit rarely), it’s usually down to a period of inconsistency from me with regard to my duties as HOH.  The last three weeks have been difficult, I spent the best part of ten days incapacitated with the ‘flu virus that is trotting its merry way around the UK at the moment, followed by an intense week of work.  I’m self-employed and my work takes me all over the UK. My job necessitates that my work takes place at night, so for the last week I’ve been getting home anywhere between 1am and 4am every night, still getting over the ‘flu and generally feeling like a plate of last week’s leftovers.

As such, I took my eye off the ball with a couple of key issues that arose in the last week. On Friday evening, whilst I was at work and our daughter was staying with my parents, my wife decided to go out a meal and drinks with friends. She asked my permission to go, and I said yes-it’s rare that either of us get the chance to go out socially due to childcare and work commitments, so I figured that it would be a nice release for my wife to go out, see friends, have a few drinks and relax.

However, she didn’t ask my permission to wear a slutty dress left over from her University days, or to wear a lacy, revealing bra, half of which was visible when in said dress!

Furthermore, we’d arranged for me to pick her up from town around midnight on my way back from work. I was working two hours away, and we’d made plans for me to send her a text message when I was leaving work and to call her when I was five minutes away from town.

I stuck to my side of the bargain, but there was no text message in reply, no answer when I called, and no indication of where I would find my wayward, underdressed and overdrunk spouse.

I eventually tracked her down to a local bar where she was drinking with some of the friends that she’d gone to eat with. I was displeased that she hadn’t kept to her side of the arrangements for the evening, but I was sidetracked for a while with people who wanted to chat to me. Due to my line of work, I’m a well known public figure in my hometown and I’m never short of people who want to chat about what I’ve been doing and what my future plans are.

So, I was sidelined by chitchat, bonhomie, hugs and handshakes, and almost forgot about my displeasure over my wife’s antics. Later that evening we returned home, and I told my considerably drunken wife my thoughts on what she was wearing, and asked that she run her choice of clothing by me before going out for the evening in the future. I told her we’d sort it out in the morning, and we retired to bed.

However, morning came only for me to find my eyes stuck shut due to the fact that, overnight, I’d come down with the conjunctivitis that my wife and daughter have both suffered with recently. That, coupled with my massive workload and the tail end of the ‘flu, led me to be distracted and not settle the outstanding dispute over my wife’s behaviour and dress the previous evening.

TWO days went by (I know, shame on me) before my wife’s behaviour changed and the aforementioned bolshy teenager popped out like a knobbed-off mole emerging from a particularly unpleasant hole.

“I’m not feeling submissive AT ALL!” she cried. “I went way over my internet time last night” (my wife has an internet curfew to curb her growing addiction to spending all day online, to the detriment of her sanity and mine) “and I ate loads of fattening food yesterday” she opined further. “I don’t feel submissive because you’re not F***ING CONSISTENT!”

At this point, I sat with my wife and tried to talk some sense into her. This didn’t work, so I knew that the only sensible course of action would be a spanking. I won’t tolerate rudeness and disrespect between us, I never speak to my wife with anything but love and respect, even when administering firm verbal discipline and making corrective behavioural observations, and I demand the same in return.

I leapt to my feet, grasped an implement and demanded that my wife stand up. At the start of a spanking, I always ask my wife to stand up, come to me and sit by me, at which point I will explain my reasons for the punishment and ensure she fully understands the nature of her offence and the reason why she is going to be punished. This time was no different, although I was incensed by her behaviour and speaking to her more firmly than usual, I was not acting in anger (as I explained in my previous post, I think it’s vital not to administer a punishment driven by anger).

“NO!” exclaimed my recalcitrant wife, pulling the bedclothes up around her chin. “I won’t stand up! You are not going to spank me!”. This went back and forth for some time, all the while the clock ticking and the time I needed to leave for work rapidly approaching.

Realising I was running out of time to administer a proper spanking, I eventually managed to coax my stroppy, out-of-character wife out from under the bedclothes to make another pass at communicating on a verbal level, but this was of scant reward, and we didn’t make much progress.

“I have to leave for work now” said I, “we’ll sort this out in the morning”. Off I went, the knowledge that I was driving away from an unresolved domestic dispute burning in the back of my mind.

I’m not the kind of man to leave a job half finished, especially when it comes to solving problems between myself and other people, my wife in particular. I will never go to sleep on an argument or walk away from something unresolved unless I really run out of time. So, in keenness to sort the problem out, I stopped halfway to work and telephoned my wife. She had taken some time to think about the situation but still hadn’t shaken her mardy, teen-angst-redux attitude out of her hair completely. I told her that she was to wait up for me and that I would resolve the problem when I got home from work.

In the hours between me telephoning her and me returning home after work, she had written a touching “Letter To My HOH” on Her Blog which I read via my smartphone after my work ended. This confirmed what I already knew-that she really needed some time to think about her attitude and come to a point of contrite self-realisation. The one thing left to do was to make the long drive home, talk it over and then round the whole sorry episode off with a sound and tender spanking.

I did just that-it was late and we were both exhausted, but these things need to be done at times. I spanked using my hand as I felt that a reconciliatory spanking needed to be done in an intimate, skin-on-skin fashion.

Things are back to normal now and my wife has been, with a couple of minor exceptions, has been her usual wonderful self today.

This just goes to show that a relationship can be like a domino rally-all it takes is one thing to tip the first tile (in this case my illness leading to a couple of days of inconsistent leadership) and slowly the whole thing comes tumbling to the ground. It is the job of the conscientious HOH to restack the pack, rebuild and make it right. It takes time and effort, but to see my beautiful wife at her best (and, when she is at her best, she truly shines) makes every moment of it worthwhile.

SH UK