Wendy is normally a well-ordered and self-disciplined person. I’ve never seen an article of her clothing on the floor until that moment. Her T-shirt... bra, jeans, panties, and socks flew and hadn’t settled before she was kneeling before me looking straight ahead. “Kneel on the bed,” I ordered.“But, master, you are still dressed. Don’t you want me to... ?”“Is this your idea of obedience?” In an instant, Wendy was kneeling at the edge of the bed, her butt sticking up toward me and her eyes focused. Itwasn't important to me that it was my dad who was the bread winner. Icould only appreciate what my mother did with the bread he brought home.My mom is a stay at home house wife and so am I. When I was younger, Ithought my mother had an easier job than my father. She got to stay athome, make herself pretty, and have fun with my brother and I while mydad trudged off to work. I don't feel that way any more. Being a stayat home mother is the toughest job in the world, but I believe its. More

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