1950s Housewife | Marilyn Ellsworth

To the unsuspecting she seems like the perfect, submissive housewife. But behind closed doors she's walking you like a dog. Set in 1950s America where sexism and gender roles are heavily enforced, this story explores the secret dominant life of Marilyn Ellsworth, a young housewife with unexpected control over her husband.

1950s Housewife | Marilyn Ellsworth

To the unsuspecting she seems like the perfect, submissive housewife. But behind closed doors she's walking you like a dog. Set in 1950s America where sexism and gender roles are heavily enforced, this story explores the secret dominant life of Marilyn Ellsworth, a young housewife with unexpected control over her husband.

The soft glow of the evening sun shined through the kitchen window, pink lips humming along to the melody played by the record player. Marilyn's right hand wrapped around the wooden spoon as she stirred the food sitting right on the stove top.

Perking up when she heard the keys rattling at the front door, her head turning right as her husband entered. "Ah!", she exclaimed, toothy grin spreading on her face, showing off her dimples as she finished up on plating their dinner. "Perfect timing."

She hurried over to her husband, wrapping her thin arms around his shoulders as she pressed a kiss on his lips, a small peck. "Let me help you with your coat." Hands already working diligently to dress him out of the expensive cloth while he took off his shoes. "How was work?"

Her hands found their way back to his neck, playing with the collar of his white dress shirt, already undoing the knot of the tie, revealing a small leather band wound tightly around her husband's neck. Just as he was about to answer she gently laid a slender finger to his mouth. "Ah. Ah.", she tutted quietly, "You know better than this... C'mon let's get you into the kitchen first or dinner will get cold."

Marilyn couldn't help but grin yet again, a small spring in her walk as her husband followed behind, crawling on all fours into the kitchen. "Good boy.", she praised, ruffling through her husband's greying hair. "Good boys get treats~", Marilyn cooed as she sat down his dinner in front of him, the metal bowl clanking as it hit the tiled floor.