Bree fiddled with her wedding ring as her new husband drove the car up the winding road. Though happy, she truly never thought she would be here. Even the word 'husband' still made her head spin. She had been completely independent her whole life. Captain of the debate team in high school, class president her senior year, until she was removed for organizing a protest against the schools 'sexist' dress code. She graduated top of her class Pre-Law, and published multiple articles in the universities paper about sexism displayed by the schools staff. She was going to Yale Law School in the fall, and she planned on becoming a Civil Rights lawyer.

She knew she was a box of blue hair dye away from becoming a full on stereotype, but she couldn't care less. She was happy, successful, and would laugh when someone brought up the idea of a husband. "I'm living my life on my terms," she'd say. "A man would just slow me down." That all changed when she met Eric.

He caught her eye at a Women's March of all places. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Well-built, and a few years older than her. He complimented her sign and struck up a conversation about the wage gap. She thought he was just another pandering 'feminist bro,' who pretended to be 'woke' just long enough to get into a girls pants, but he seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. A few weeks later, they were dating, and within a few months, he had popped the question.

She was hesitant, but he had been nothing but supportive. She laid out her terms for him, financial independence, no objections to full time work, especially as her dream job would force her extreme hours, and, most importantly, no children. He agreed wholeheartedly. "You do whatever you want," he'd say. "Work, run for office, change the world. I'll just be here to love you." So they married in a small courthouse ceremony. She wore jeans and sneakers. She had insisted on no frills.

"Almost all wedding traditions are rooted in patriarchy," she had said. Eric smiled.

"Whatever you want, dear." They did, however, agree to move into Eric's home, since all Bree had was a small apartment. As they pulled up to the house, Bree gasped. She had been expecting a town house, but this was a full on mansion.

"You never said you were-"

"Rich?" Eric laughed. "Surprise. The house has been in our family for years, but yeah, we're well off." Bree's mind began spinning.

"Think of all the people we could help with this money! We could make an ACLU donation." Eric's jaw tightened almost inescapably.

"Whatever you want, dear. Let's talk about it later."

After a delightful dinner, Eric took her upstairs. "The master suite," he announced proudly. She was about to tell him that they shouldn't use the term "master suite," as it derived from plantations, but her breath was taken away by the room's beauty. It had a massive, canopied, king-sized bed, with white and gold furniture. Bree grinned. She had hit the jackpot! Hot, feminist, AND rich. She would be living in the lap of luxury with the man she loved.

She began to unbuckle her jeans and shimmy them down her thighs. "Ready to christen the bed, hubby?" she giggled.

"Wait," he said, grabbing her hands to stop her. "I have something special for you." He cracked open the giant wardrobe behind him, and pulled out something very tiny, very lacy, and very pink. It was a sheer and short nightgown, and Bree almost laughed at the sight of it.

"Pink? Really?" She hated the color, and avoided wearing anything girly.

"I thought it was kinda funny," Eric laughed. "Please? Just for tonight. I think you'd look cute in it." Bree sighed. She didn't want to, but Eric never asked for much. She slipped into the bathroom with it, and quickly changed. It was flowy, girly, and barely covered her ass. She hated it. She felt like a bimbo in a porn magazine.

"Oh, babe," he said when he saw her. He was standing by the bed, holding an ornate vase. "You look so cute." Bree wrinkled her nose. She didn't want to be cute. She didn't like feeling patronized. It was also way too cold for this outfit.

"I'm going to change back, maybe we can do this tomorrow."

"Bree, what's wrong? I like it."

"It's weird, and I'm cold. It's just not me. Let's go to bed and if you really want me in some crazy night clothes, I'll get some tomorrow that don't make me look like porno Barbie.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No. I like them, I bought it for you, you're wearing it." She had never heard Eric be firm before. He usually let her do whatever she wanted.

"What?"

"I'm your husband, I make the decisions in this house." Bree gaped. Who was this man?

"Are you kidding me?"

"Every true marriage has a strong man and a submissive wife," He said, like he was explaining to a child. "That's how it how it has always worked. Somewhere along the way, you decided that you needed to be the 'strong one.' That's why you've been so angry all your life. I'm here now to set the record straight. That starts by telling you that you will wear the night gown, because I will make the decisions about what you wear."

"Well, I'm making the decision to spend the night in a hotel, asshole." She tried to storm past him but he caught her arm, holding her hard.

"No. You're going to be punished. You've been wild for far too long. You need someone to give you good discipline and bring you to heel." She tried to yank her arm out of his grip but he held her right, yanking her towards the chair. "And as head of this household, that someone is me." He sat down in the chair and yanked Bree over his lap. She tried to thrash away but he held her in place by wrapping one of his legs over hers. You laughed as she tried to escape. "You girls think you're so strong, but it only takes you a few moments to wrestle you into place." Bree's cheeks burned. She had never felt this combination of rage, fear, confusion, and embarrassment.

Eric began to stroke her hair. "That's why you need a man to help guide you. You think you know what's true, but you don't. So you need your husband to tell you. And to reinforce the message. You probably think it is true that a husband should never spank their wife. But I am here to tell you it's not true. Did your parents ever spank you, Bree?"

"No!"

"Let's start with, oh, let's say 15 spanks." Bree shrieked, and began to struggle again in earnest. "Want to make it 30?" She froze at this. There was no way out, so she might as well take it. Eric chuckled and gently pushed up the bottom of the night gown to fully reveal Bree's pert, white, ass to him.

The first spank made her jump. Jesus! Her bottom stung terribly.

"Hey!"

"Quiet," Eric said softly. *WACK!* He spanked her again, and Bree jerked forward again.

"Fuck!"

"Don't swear, it's not ladylike." Bree tried to twist her head to look at her husband. Ladylike? Did he know who she was?

"Fuck you!" *Wack!* *Wack!* *Wack!* He spanked her hard and fast. Bree squeezed her eyes shut and grit her teeth. Fuck this hurt! The longer he went, the more defeated she felt. Tears stung her eyes, but she didn't want to look weak in front of him.

Once he got to 15, he paused.

"Why am I spanking you?"

"What?"

"Tell me why I'm spanking you."

"I-" She hesitated. Eric gave her butt another smack to try and jog her memory.

"Think. I know you girls have a hard time with that, but try for me."

"You can't say that!" He spanked her again.

"You're not in a position to argue, my dear. Why am I spanking you."

"Because you're a misogynist ass." He gave her five more spanks, hard and fast. She began to scream at the pain, and she was sure there's be bruises.

"Why am I spanking you?" Bree sniffed.

"Because I didn't want to wear the night gown."

"Very good, sweetheart," Eric said, gently stroking her bottom. "And what do you say when you do something bad?" Bree dropped her head low in humiliation.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What was that? I know you can be louder, I've heard you run your mouth plenty of times."

"I'm sorry!" She shouted

"Very nice." Eric lifted her from her prone position and sat her on his lap. Bree was afraid to move, and she felt incredibly sore. Eric began brushing her tears away. "It's good that you're quiet, though. Girls were made to be soft-spoken and sweet." Bree cried harder. She hated crying, it made her feel weak. But she couldn't stop. Eric rubbed her back.

"Shut up Eric!" She would have kept going, but her sobs stopped her throat.

"Let it out, honey. This is what happens when girls don't get spanked. Their emotions get pent-up, which makes them angry and restless. Like you used to be. That's why husbands have to give their wives good spankings. Not just for discipline, but to make them feel good, too. A spanking releases all that tension and makes you happier."

"Do I look happy?"

He dipped his fingers into her opening and began making small circles. Bree jerked and shuddered, getting wet instantly. "But you're so much more relaxed," Eric cooed. "You're so wet. You must feel ok if you're so horny."

"That's-that's," Bree sputtered. "You made me, I didn't-" Eric rubbed her clit harder and Bree's hips bucked up, nearly flying off his lap. He held her tighter to keep her in place.

"Shh, honey. I know it's hard to focus after a good spanking, so you just keep your mind on your private parts, ok?"

"But-" Eric moved his fingers faster, making Bree moan. He knew exactly where to touch her to turn her into a pile of putty. He ramped up speed, curling and twisting his fingers inside her.

"I'm gonna- I'm gonna-"

"No." He yanked his fingers away, leaving Bree twisting and moaning in his grip, desperate for pleasure. "Wives only cum when their husbands allow them too." Bree began to cry again, hard.

He stood, pulling up his weepy wife with him.

"Now, are you going to get into that bed, or do I need to give you another spanking?" Bree sniffed and climbed into the bed. Eric smiled at her compliance and began to take off his clothes.

"What a good girl you are. This part you'll like, I know." He climbed onto the bed and straddled her. Bree felt claustrophobic and began to squirm. "I understand this is new for you." Eric said grabbing her wrists and holding them down. "You're head as been stuffed with so many lies about your true nature this all must seem very scary. Don't worry, I'm here to guide you through it.

"Why are you saying these things?" Bree cried. "Was it all a lie? Our whole relationship, everything you said to me?"

"Yes," Eric said simply. "I spent a lot of time at those ridiculous marches. Or really anywhere girls like you got together. It was so sad and silly to watch all those girls waste their lives, filling their head with empty ideas. You all just seemed so miserable and angry. So me and my friends and decided the best thing we could do is try and rescue a few of them, show them their true place in life." Eric reached into a side drawer and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

"So we went hunting. Looking for the perfect girls to bring to heel. And the second I saw you, so angry, so smug, so high and mighty, I knew I had to have you." He snapped the handcuff onto her right wrist, strung it through a piece of the headboard, and then if attached her left wrist. "I do love you. I do. That's why I'm doing this. Because you'll be much happier this way. I'll take care of you, and provide for you, and you'll follow my every command." He gently touched her dripping pussy and she bucked against his hand. "A perfect submissive wife, in your place, below a man." He grabbed a pillow from behind her head and shoved it beneath her sore bottom so her hips were lifted lewdly towards him. She tried to close her legs, but he smacked her thighs, hard. "Open."

Eric lined up his member with her opening and roughly shoved himself inside. Bree gasped, and began to struggle, but Eric was much stronger than her. He thrust into her with an unforgiving rhythm. He gripped her legs and held them around his waist.

"You're going to take it all," he panted, grabbing her bouncing breast and squeezing hard. "Take every inch of me." Bree eventually matched his rhythm, raising her hips to meet his. "You were made for me. So wet, so fucking tight. You fit, just right."

"Eric-" she moaned. "I'm- I'm-"

"No." he growled at her. "I want us to come together." But she couldn't hold off any long. She screamed with pleasure as her pussy contracted around his cock, pulsing and filling her body with ecstasy. Her feelings of bliss was short lived as Eric quickly pulled out, and angry look on his face. He gripped her ankles and lifted them up so her bruised bottom of exposed. He gave her about a dozen quick slaps to her not only her ass, but up and down the back of her thighs, so she was flowing red all over. "You need to learn to listen," he hissed, before shoving himself back inside.

Seemingly invigorated by the punishment, he began to jackhammer her at an alarming place, but thankful it only took a few thrusts for him to arch his back, and fill her with his seed, roaring as he did so. Bree went limp with exhaustion.

Eric laid down next to her, panting. He reached under her top and began to toy with her nipples, absent mindlessly.

"Very good, love. And don't worry, we have lots of time to get you into shape. By the time the baby comes, you'll be a perfect wife."

"Baby?" Eric grinned.

"Of course. I took switched out your birth control for fertility pills last month. And with all the sex I'm planning on giving you while we're our little "honeymoon" here, I wouldn't be surprised if you got knocked up in the next week or two." Bree began to cry. She never wanted to be a mother, to be tied down.

"But, I start at Yale in the fall." He gasped as he suddenly yanked her nipple, hard, making it long and hard.

"Oh, I called them weeks ago letting them know you wouldn't be attending. Wanted to focus more on family." He kissed her cheek. "You'll be a wonderful mother, I just know it. PlUs you didn't REALLY want to go to Yale, did you?" He dipped his hand down towards her opening and began to play with her again.

"Of course I-"

"Shhhh. But you got married, even after you railed about the evils of marriage, how it was slavery of women, how it takes women's power. You did it anyway."

"I didn't-" He began stroking her clot, making her gasp.

"You did. And when I was taking you, you still came, even when I told you not to. You loved it so much, that you risked punishment just to show me." He began to rub her harder, making her squirm again.

"I didn't- I don't know-"

"You know." Eric kisses her neck, as she bucked beneath him. "You'll need some more help to fully understand it, to process it, to live it. But you know you NEED this. You may hate it, but you need me. You need to be my good little wife." She felt herself tightening.

"I-"

"Cum," He hissed in her ear, and, for the second time today she twitched wildly as she came all over Eric's fingers. She began to weep again. It was like Eric had turned on her water works switch and she couldn't turn it off. Eric cooed and wiped a few tears away. "I know you're scared, but don't worry. This next part really is the fun part." Bree pulled on her handcuffs, making them jingle. Eric laughed.

"Oh, I wouldn't plan on getting out of this bed for at least another few days. In fact," He began stroking himself, already hard again. "Round two?"

As he climbed on top of her, ready to devour her again, Bree promised herself she would get out of here before he knocked her up, tying her to him forever. Before he broke her.

Glasses clinked, and cigar smoke filled the spacious living room. All the men, about 15 in total, were sharply dressed and radiated confidence and snobbery. Frat boys, all grown up. A few politicians, some CEO's in training, all high ranking professionals. And all united their shared goal.

"I can't believe you did it."

"I'm STILL trying to reign in mine, and she was the quietest of the bunch"

"It's the quiet ones you have to look out for."

"The loud ones are all bluster, no substance. A few pats on the ass, and they're weak as kittens."

"But your bitch sure could bluster."

"And look at her now."

"What's the secret?"

Eric grinned, lounging in his chair. He held out his glass, and Bree came over to top it off. She looked like a 1950's wet dream, a cupcake skirt that only just covered all her private parts, not a hair out of place, makeup perfectly done. Red lips pouting around a red ball gag. "Just to keep you out of trouble," Eric had said when he fastened it in her mouth. "You sometimes say silly things, and you don't want to embarrass yourself in front of my friends, do you?"

Bree started to retreat into her corner, praying that the party guests would leave her alone, when Eric raised his fingers, making her freeze. "Kneel." Bree did so, immediately, knowing the hesitancy would be swiftly punished. Eric leaned forward and unsnapped her gag.

He unzipped his pants and pulled out his semi hard cock. Bree leaned forward and took it in her mouth. She flushed as the men began to snicker behind her. "First things first, spankings every single night. Whether she was good or bad. It's called 'maintenance spanking' and it helps her remember her place. If she's been bad, you can add an implement to punish her further." Bree cringed slightly as she moved her head back and forth over his cock. Eric usually found a reason to punish her. She could barely sit down most days. "It's amazing what a little attention to the bum will do for a girl." The men laughed, and she felt one of them pinch her ass.

"And you just have to remember, girls can't just change their behavior on their own. They need lots of reinforcements." He groaned, as Bree began sucking faster, teasing him with her tongue. The faster he came, the faster she could get off the floor. "Like Bree used to take long, unladylike strides. So we had to fetter her ankles for a few weeks, and look her now! Nice and dainty steps."

"Can I borrow them for mine?" One man called out.

"Of course," Eric smiled, then pulled his cock out of Bree's mouth. She looked at him, confused, but let herself be pulled up by him as she stood. "But the most important aspect of training is reminding your girl what her most important feature is. And it isn't her brain, if you know what I mean." The men laughed, and Bree blushed, looking down. "You see, even the loudest, 'smartest,' and brashest girl can be so quickly derailed by the smallest bit of attention to their private parts. Observe."

Eric pulled his phone out and fiddled with a few apps. "Bree, dear, why don't you tell us about the 19th Amendment? We'd love to hear about it." Bree gave Eric a pleading look, they had played this game many times, but he only smiled at her. "Go ahead. I know you're dying to."

"The 19th Amendment was ratified in 1920," Bree began, cautiously. "And gave women the right to vote, making-" Eric tapped a button on his phone, and Bree gasped in surprise and had to restrain herself from outright grabbing her crotch. She began squirming uncomfortably as her pussy buzzed loudly.

"And would you say this was a good thing, Bree?" Eric asked casually. Bree nodded jerkily.

"Ye-yes," she chocked out. It took all her focus to not collapse to the floor.

"But isn't voting too big of a responsibility for women? Aren't they too emotional to understand the process?"

"I don't-" Bree tried to argue, but Eric pressed another button, and the buzzing became more intense. She moaned loudly, and doubled over.

"Don't you think women should not have the right to vote?"

"I-I-" Bree could barely speak. She was too horny, too stimulated.

"Say it."

"Women shouldn't have-" She tried to agree, just to have the buzzing stop, but Eric pressed another button and she gave out a scream of pleasure, collapsing to the ground, shaking with an orgasm. The men hooted and cat called, delighted by the show. A few pulled out their cocks and began to slowly stroke themselves off. Eric held up his phone in triumph.

"A little attention downstairs, and a girl can't even say her own name, much less defend her most cherished beliefs. I'm telling you, men. Get a vibrator for your bitch, keep it in her 24/7, and she'll come to heel." Bree moaned softly from her spot on the floor. Eric lifted her up to her feet and reached up under her skirts. He hooked his finger around her panties, now soaking wet, and pulled them off. Then he reached up inside her and removed the small, buzzing egg.

"And now for the reason I've invited you all here." Eric pulled Bree back over to his chair, and reattached the gag in her mouth. "We have some very exciting news to share with you." Eric pulled her dick back out, and gave it a few stroked to get it firm. He pulled Bree onto his lap, and guided his dick into her opening.

Eric grasped her hips and moved her up and down. Most of the men were now stroking themselves off at the sight. "We've been taking pregnancy tests every day, and it's finally happened. I'm going to be a father!" The room cheered, and a tear fell down Bree's cheek as she bounced up and down his cock. Despite this, she started to feel an orgasm coming on. It was all she seemed to be able to do now a days.