The Submissive Suffragette by Amelia Smarts

subsuffWhat happens when a forward-thinking woman challenges the rules of her old-fashioned husband?

It’s the late 1800s, the suffrage movement is gaining ground, and women are beginning to fight against the accepted roles of housewife and mother. Nalin is one of these women. She is a submissive wife to Carter and desperately longs for motherhood, but she struggles to balance her personality and desires with her belief that women should have equal rights to men. She begins defying all the normal conventions–she wears pants instead of skirts to town, she cusses, and she talks back to her husband. Carter’s response is to take his wayward wife over his knee for a sound, bare-bottom spanking.

Carter has always been content with the status quo and is frustrated with Nalin’s constant defiance of all things considered ladylike. To his way of thinking, it’s his duty to lead and her duty to obey. Nalin quickly discovers that his stubborn opinions about the natural order of things won’t be easily changed, although he does come to believe that disciplining his recalcitrant wife is pointless. Her reaction to his declaration, however, surprises them both.

Carter and Nalin both want children but have so far suffered more than one devastating loss. They are both thrilled when Nalin becomes pregnant again. However, in addition to having a child, she also wishes to attend the suffrage convention in Dallas. Carter loves his wife, so despite his initial reservations, he agrees to see her safely to the convention and back. Their adventure takes a few twists and turns along the way. Will this couple safely and successfully navigate their way through these turbulent times and find the happily ever after they both deserve?

Publisher’s Note: This book contains erotic scenes and disciplinary spanking of an adult woman. If such material offends you, please do not purchase.

AMAZON US
AMAZON UK
KOBO
The Submissive Suffragette (Lone Star Love Book 1)

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What People Say About The Submissive Suffragette

“Heavily laced with heart-pounding moments, steamy ‘over the knee’ sessions that are every bit as moving as they are sexy, and heartfelt emotions, this is another ‘must read’ by Amelia Smarts.” -Spanking Romance Reviews

The story was fantastic — well written, wonderful romance, great characters, and realism.” -Katherine Deane, USA Today Bestselling Author

“If you enjoy strong female characters with a daring alpha male all the way, then you need to read this story.” Tiffany, Romance Reviewer

Amazing story about a loving but stern husband and his feisty, passionate wife. Terrific characterization and a strong storyline with many heartbreaking/touching moments, laughs and plenty of heat.” -Amazon Reviewer

Fascinating read where the author took artistic liberties and blended a story with historical facts.” -Redrabbitt, Top 1% Goodreads Reviewer

Read the First Chapter for Free

Chapter 1: To Be a Good Woman

Texas, 1886

“You will not spank me,” Nalin vowed.

Carter felt his jaw clench. Her words sounded like a foolish dare she knew better than to make. From his seat in the buggy, he held the slack reins in his left hand. The horse knew the way to their cabin, so no guidance from him was necessary. His right hand rested on his own leg instead of his wife’s, which felt unnatural. He wished to travel in silence during the two-mile journey from town to home in order to cool down. The last thing he wanted was to argue, but Nalin preferred the opposite.

“You won’t spank me, Carter,” she repeated.

“Think what you like,” he said. “But you’re getting a spanking when we get home. A right smart one for your willful disobedience.”

Nalin’s adamant tone became plaintive. “Carter, I can’t bear for you to punish me. Not for this.”

Carter turned to look at her. Long strands of her brown-black hair had escaped her bun and scattered around her face. Her bottom lip protruded into a pout despite her best efforts to appear strong and resolute. Conversely, her high cheekbones gave her an air of confidence, in sharp contrast to the trembling in her voice.

He gave her a stern look he hoped would silence her. “Nalin Barnes, we already talked about this.”

She glared back at him without blinking. “Yes, and I told you I would go to the women’s suffrage convention no matter what you said.”

“Right. Then I told you I would spank you if you did. Seems we had an understanding. I don’t see the need to discuss it further.”

Nalin’s hands closed into fists over the legs of the trousers he’d forbidden her from wearing into town. She looked as unkempt as any of his cowhands after a hard day of rounding cattle, and yet her wild hair coupled with her flashing eyes suited her. She looked as beautiful as ever. Her mother, a full-blooded Apache Indian, passed along to Nalin her brown, smooth skin. It glowed with perspiration that day under the Texas sun. Carter looked straight ahead again and clucked at the horse to step it up.

“How can you do this to me, Carter?”

He sighed. “Do what, Nalin? Correct you? I’ll show you how shortly. Please, for the love of God, hush your mouth the rest of the way.”

He knew it was a useless request. The words had barely left his mouth before she spoke again. She had always been a brazen little thing. All of five-foot-one to his six feet, she placed her hands on her hips and glared up at him without hesitation whenever they argued. She spoke her mind, and she spoke it often. Carter admired her pluck. She kept him honest and on his toes. Her sharp tongue and sarcastic wit often made him laugh. Her personality was fierce, but her body was soft and small. His wife was a walking, talking contradiction. He loved her deeply, despite—or perhaps partly because of—her combative spirit. He felt disconnected from her lately, though, and it made him miserable. Something had changed between them.

“Can’t you see, Carter? I’m fighting for equal rights for women, and you’re going to punish me like husbands think they have the right to do. That makes me feel like I’ve failed at making a difference even in my own marriage. I can’t bear the inequality.”

“Hold it right there. You are not equal to me in strength. You have an intellect as sharp as any man’s due to all your book learning at boarding school, but you are inferior in physical strength.”

“So what, Carter?” She sounded furious to be reminded of that bit of common knowledge. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that as your husband it’s my duty to protect you from physical harm. It’s reasonable for me not to allow my wife where there is threatened violence, such as at the suffrage convention. If I have to warm your tail to keep you from suffering real harm, I’m going to do it.”

“You are an insufferable man!”

Her voice sounded shrill to his ear, and her words angered him further. He closed his eyes and willed himself to be patient before continuing in an even tone. “Insufferable? Maybe. A man? Aye. What do you feel is my duty to you as a man, Nalin, if not to protect you?” It was an honest question. He didn’t understand what his wife needed anymore.

She ignored the query. “By you deciding whether I’m allowed to do something, you’re going against everything I believe in now.”

“And by going to the convention, you went against your husband, someone you vowed to honor and obey six years ago—till death do us part.”

“I don’t give a damn what I said then,” was her snarly response. “I was a vapid little girl with air for brains.”

Carter sucked in a breath. “You try my patience, woman. You really do.”

She might as well have said she’d made a mistake marrying him. That seemed to be the implication. Further rankling him was her oath, which reminded him that she’d been swearing worse than a man lately. She was as good as begging him for a spanking. Even he didn’t swear in mixed company, yet here was his wife, at perfect looseness with cussing no matter the audience.

The change in his wife, and the disharmony between them began when Nalin became active in the women’s suffrage movement. Although Carter didn’t understand why she became so passionate about having the right to vote, he was at first glad she’d found something to turn her attentions to. She wanted children, but her body had been unable to carry a baby to term. They had tried for years to start a family with no success. She suffered one miscarriage after another, and each loss proved more devastating to her than the previous. It was devastating for him too, seeing her suffer, but he didn’t know how to express it.

What troubled him was that the more suffrage meetings Nalin attended, the angrier she became—at him, at men in general, and at the whole world—and he wasn’t liking this change in his wife. He loved her passion, but her wrath displeased him. He kept his displeasure to himself until the day she wore trousers instead of a dress to town. It was to rebel against her female identity, an identity he adored and found captivating. His appreciation for the beautiful woman he was fortunate enough to call his wife didn’t matter to her anymore. She felt it was an affront to be a woman in what she called a man’s world.

The trousers fit her snuggly around her hips, ass, and thighs, accentuating her curves with every perky step. With Carter by her side, she held her head high in the air and went about her business of shopping and posting letters to legislature, while he observed with growing discomfort and offense the lecherous stares men focused on her various assets as she passed. Women’s heads bent together in snickers and whispers, which angered him. He wanted to insulate his wife from hurtful words that might get back to her ears. She’d already endured enough racism and prejudice for three lifetimes. Adding chips to the fire by wearing trousers seemed to him a very bad idea.

When they arrived back at the cabin that day, he told her, “Nalin, I forbid you from wearing those trousers to town again. It’s indecent.”

She kicked up a devil of a row and slung a barrage of curse words at him that resulted in a long session over his knee in which she endured sharp swats to her trouser-clad rear end. He pulled her blasted pants down and finished the spanking on her bare bottom until she apologized for cussing at him, which wasn’t until after her backside was red and hot to the touch.

She hadn’t learned her lesson. She now sat next to him in the same trousers he’d forbidden her from wearing, swearing as she pleased. He suddenly realized there was no point in spanking her when they got home. She wasn’t listening lately and no longer respected his wishes. She was determined to get her way regardless of how he felt about it, and a trip over his lap wouldn’t do anything to improve their relationship.

Carter decided that until he figured out how he fit into his wife’s new world view, he wouldn’t take her in hand. Maybe she was right. Maybe his authority and protectiveness contrasted with the way she felt about her rights as a woman now. He didn’t have to agree with her views to try to make her happy. He just needed to figure out a way to keep her safe, too. He’d have to think about it.

As Carter unhooked the horse in the barn, brushed him, and pitched hay into his stall, Nalin stood nearby and kept her eyes on Carter. She clasped her hands behind her back, instinctively protecting her seat. Carter moved to Bella’s stall. Leading the mare to the hitching post, he cleaned out her hooves and placed a saddle on her back.

As he was cinching the belly band, Nalin spoke in a soft, confused voice. “Where are you going, Carter?”

He knew his actions warranted questioning. On any other day, her bottom would have been halfway to blistered by that time. He didn’t delay punishments any longer than he had to.

“I have a ranch to run, Nalin.”

“So you’re not going to…” Her voice trailed off.

“Spank you? No, I’m not.”

“But, but why not?” she stammered. “What made you change your mind?”

Carter buckled the bridle’s neck strap and turned to look at her. “Because I’m done trying to make you listen. Regardless of what I do, you will continue doing whatever the devil you want. I don’t have the time or patience for it right now.” His words came out harsher than he intended, though they were the truth of what he felt.

Nalin looked like he’d just slapped her. “Don’t be done with me,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. She began to cry. “Please don’t leave me when you’re angry, Carter. Stay and talk to me.”

“Nalin,” he said, his voice weary. “I’m not done with you, I’m done trying to correct you. I’m giving you what you want, which is not to be punished, so I can’t understand you taking on the tears. Scoot to the cabin now.”

In a contrary fashion, which was her typical response to him these days, Nalin headed in the opposite direction of the cabin. She rushed to Carter and put her head on his chest. She cried on his shirt. Carter felt frustrated. He’d just let her out of a punishment, and she was acting like he was about to commit a barbaric act against her by leaving to do his work. He gave her a brief rub on the back before stepping away.

“I’ve got to fix a fence before nightfall. Cook some supper. I’m already half starved.” He mounted Bella and took off for the range at a trot.

# # #

Nalin stumbled to the cabin. She walked straight to their room and collapsed on the bed. She sobbed. “I am such a failure,” she told the walls. “I’m good at nothing.”

Never in their six years of marriage had she felt like such a disappointment. She hadn’t been able to give her husband a child. It was only after the last miscarriage, which kept her in bed for a full day, that she realized she might never give birth to a live baby. Prior to that day, she felt hopeful that it would eventually happen, but it was during the emotional and physical agony of the last loss that she realized it probably wouldn’t. She decided she must focus her attentions elsewhere or else go mad.

The women’s suffrage movement she’d been reading about in the paper for years found its way to their town of Porter, Texas, at the right time to pique her interest. She and a group of lady friends met weekly to discuss and review letters they wrote to the legislature. Sometimes a man in support of their efforts would attend their meetings, but Nalin never dared ask her husband to be one of them. She could picture him rolling his eyes at even the suggestion.

She knew that her involvement in the suffrage movement directly correlated with her barrenness. She felt that her worth as a woman depended on her ability to bear children. When that didn’t seem likely to happen, she sought other ways to feel a sense of worth, such as politics and public life. She quickly discovered that the inequality of the laws and her status as a woman prevented her from participating in full. She decided to become involved in changing that by joining the women’s rights movement that focused on a woman’s right to vote. Her participation gave her some of the fulfillment she longed for.

“It’s not enough,” she blubbered out loud to the empty room. “I want to be a mother. I want my husband to understand.”

She desperately longed for Carter to support her new interest. His opinion mattered to her. It mattered to most people who knew him. He was a respected member of the community and a successful rancher. He instinctively knew how to lead with a fair, firm hand. His success in ranching was partly due to his leadership style. He ran his ranch and household with little tolerance for insubordination from those under his authority. That included Nalin. She was his wife, and he expected her to obey him like all wives were expected to obey their husbands.

Nalin positioned herself face down on the bed and stuffed her head in a pillow. “I will obey him,” she said in a muffled voice. “I’ll never go against him again.” She felt strongly about that in the moment. She wanted to do whatever it took to avoid how she felt then, which was rejected by the man she loved.

It was the first time she’d ever felt rejected by Carter. He’d always taken care of her and made her feel safe and cherished. He took over the ranch following his parents’ death from consumption when he was just twenty years old, the same year he married Nalin. Nalin’s mother passed away a year later, essentially leaving them both orphaned and him fully responsible for providing for her. Nalin’s daddy was still alive, but he was the town drunk, and he’d never been much of a father to her. Nalin quickly discovered how strong and competent her husband was when he rose to every leadership challenge.

It was because of the life her husband afforded her that he couldn’t understand her recent outrage over the plight of women and what she considered their lesser status in America. In his opinion, she blew everything wildly out of proportion. Their conversations on this topic were more or less the same every time. Nalin would start by pointing out an inequality she felt sure would finally convince Carter of the validity of the women’s rights movement, and he would dismiss it in a few short sentences.

“It’s not fair how women don’t have equal rights, Carter. Becca was cheated out of her inheritance. She got hitched, so when her daddy died, his land deed went into her no-account husband’s name. She wasn’t even listed on it.”

“Well, she married him,” he responded with finality, as though that should end the conversation.

“So she shouldn’t have equal rights because she’s married?”

“Honey, when she became his wife, she chose him to be the manager of their business affairs. That’s how marriage works. The wife takes care of the household. The husband takes care of the business that provides for his family.”

“But he didn’t provide, Carter! He left them in ruin. He sold the land and frittered away the money against his wife’s wishes—the money that was supposed to be hers!”

“I’m not saying he’s right, Nalin, but it’s the way it is. It’s the natural order for the husband to be the leader of the family. You can’t let one bad man change your whole perspective of how things should work.”

Nalin stormed away after each of these conversations, furious that she could never get her point across to her hardheaded husband. She imagined Carter rolling his eyes behind her every time she left him in a huff.

Nalin had to admit that the injustice toward women rarely applied to her, save for not having the right to vote, which was more abstractly insulting than concretely hurtful. She liked being Carter’s wife. She wanted to obey him for the most part, and she appreciated all that he provided. He shared everything he had with her, generously and without question. The one thing he was unable to offer her, however, was the one thing she desired most from him the last few months, and that was his understanding. He was an old-fashioned cowboy who respected women in the same way his father had, and he ensured that the women around him were treated well. That was good enough as far as he was concerned.

When he forbade her from attending the only women’s suffrage convention ever to come to Porter, Texas, she felt many things—misunderstood, angry, and hurt among them. But the strongest emotion she felt was fear, specifically, fear of failure. She had already failed in her duty as a wife and woman due to her inability to bear a child, and if it were up to Carter, she would fail in her duty as a suffragette as well. Her fear of failure was stronger than her desire to obey, so she went against her husband and attended, despite his adamant insistence that she not do so.

She had only been in the crowd for an hour listening to suffragettes shout from a raised platform before she felt a strong arm encircle her waist and heard her husband’s growl in her ear.

“You’re coming with me now, young lady. And you’d better make tracks, not a fuss, or it’ll be worse for you.”

She followed him to the buggy, her face hot with anger and embarrassment. On the ride to the cabin, she pled with him to understand how a man’s right to punish his wife was unfair, but he seemed unmoved. He viewed her disobedience, especially when it came to her safety, as something well within his rights as her husband to correct.

During the buggy ride, she worried about the pending punishment. He didn’t hesitate to spank her over the years for various misdeeds. Each session over his lap stung more than she cared to admit. He delivered the punishment to her unfortunate bare bottom every time, usually with his hand but occasionally with a wooden spoon or his belt if he felt she did something especially egregious. Attending the convention behind his back probably counted as egregious in his eyes, she realized, making her clench the muscles in her backside involuntarily. After any of his spankings, she wasn’t able to sit comfortably for the rest of the day.

What she didn’t admit, even to herself until that very day, was that she felt loved when he spanked her. It meant he noticed her actions and cared enough to discipline her when she did something he felt was wrong, and she felt cherished and forgiven when he held her afterwards. She craved Carter’s guidance and firm care.

She felt it was terribly unfair of Carter to forbid her attendance to the convention when it meant so much to her, but she had planned to accept her punishment like she always did. She knew he only spanked her because he wanted her safe. She looked forward to being in his arms for comfort after the punishment because it had been some time since he’d held her tight and whispered in her ear that he loved her.

What she hadn’t anticipated was for him to change his mind about punishing her. When he left on his horse after delivering words that stung worse than his hand, she felt shattered. He had never gone back on administering a promised punishment. For him to do so now hurt her terribly. It wasn’t like she had made him see the error in his thinking. No, he had given up on her. To give up meant he didn’t care. This realization brought a fresh torrent of tears. She felt certain that her barren state made her less of a woman in his eyes, and she wondered if he even loved her anymore. It seemed he had finally grown tired of her, judging by the weary tone in his voice and refusal to stay and talk with her.

She cried into her pillow for a long time and was so distracted by her distress that she didn’t hear Carter open the door to their room.

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