Fiction Stories

This is the one and only section in the DWC where fiction is encouraged. This is an outlet for our creative writers to share their talents. Writing is a wonderful and constructive outlet – so enjoy.

A DWC Beginning

“Get over here now, Mike. We have to talk!”
I knew I had upset my fiancée, Lisa. I hurried on my way from my apartment to her folks’ house. It seemed a good idea to stop and get some flowers on the way. When I knocked on the door, she let me in and turned her cheek for me to kiss. I tried the flowers.
“Hi babe. I know I upset you. I – I thought these might help make up.”
“Hmmh! Mike, do you even know why I am angry with you?”
“Well, no,” I muttered and hung my head.
“Well, let me ask you – did you send the bulletin proof back to the printer, or confirm the reservation at the garden for the photos, or go in and get your tux fitted?”
“No. I guess I forgot. But I can take off right away and get those done!”
“You promised that you would do them last week. And before them you promised that you would drop off our order sheet at the caterer’s place. Did you do that?”
Mike, this has to stop! You are not holding up your end of things here. It can’t go on,” insisted Lida.
I had never seen her like this. I figured an admission would help. “Lisa, “ I said, “You are absolutely right. I need to change and let you know that you can depend on me.”
“You got that right. Mike, I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. But right now I don’t know that I can count on you to follow through with your commitments. It’s time for you to make a choice.”
Lisa turned her back and walked across the room into the kitchen. I followed her.

“Mike, pull down your pants!”

We were both virgins. We had kissed, but had never even touched each other’s classified areas through our clothes, so I was confused.
“What? Why? What choice? I thought we were committed to saving this for our wedding night?”
“We are Mike. This isn’t for sex. I was talking with your mom. I told her all about your issues and she wasn’t surprised. She said that when you messed up and didn’t meet your commitments she would take down your pants and spank you.”
“Well, yeah. But that was years ago.”
“You mean last summer just before coming back to college?” Lisa looked directly into my soul!
I hung my head and could only say, “Well…”
“Oh and that was only the most recent. What about on spring break of freshman year?”
I knew I was licked, literally. But I couldn’t figure this out, so I asked, “You said I had a choice to make. Are you saying that you are going to spank me, or the wedding is off?”
“No Mike. Remember whatI said. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Then what is my choice?” I asked.
“Well Mike, you can either take a spanking from me, now; or when we go to your mom’s place this weekend she will pull down your pants and spank you in front of me.”
Some choice! I was going to be spanked either way! My choice was to submit to my fiancé, or be humiliated by having to drop my pants and let her watch my mom reduce me to a sniveling, sobbing 10 year old. Maybe Lisa wouldn’t be too hard on me, so I said, “Ok. You win!”
I slowly undid my belt buckle and Lisa stopped me. “Take it off and put it on the table!”
I slid the belt through the loops and did as she said. Then I undid my jeans, button by button, for the first time in front of her. Slowly I pushed my jeans down to my knees and stood there in my white jockey shorts. I was trying to keep some dignity, so I asked, “So should I bend over the table?”
Soothingly, Lisa put her hand on the back of my neck and said, “You mom said that even last summer she spanked you on your bare bottom, Mike.”
I blushed and nodded. I don’t know why I was so embarrassed; in three weeks we would be married and I would be naked in front of her on a daily basis. Finally, I hooked my thumbs into my briefs and pushed them to my knees. To my horror I had a huge erection.
Lisa smiled and said, “Yes, well, in a few weeks we’ll BOTH enjoy that. But for now, just bend over the table, just like you did for your mom.”
I did as I was told. Out of nowhere a hairbrush appeared my mother’s hairbrush!
“You mom is a wonderful woman. She said we would be happiest if I held you to your commitments and gave you a sore bottom when you ignored them. She sent this with instructions: ‘Don’t listen to his pleading. He’ll tell you anything to get you to stop. And don’t stop until you can tell the tears are real and he has given up control’”
I was a dead man! Mom knew my tricks and had taught Lisa! She started with that hairbrush and just kept going. She is a tennis player and has a strong forehand. I bucked and wiggled trying to take the onslaught on my bottom.
“Mike, stand still and take this. Stop moving or I will have your mom show me how when we get there tomorrow night!”
That was enough motivation. I tried to press my chest into the table to stay still. Lisa just kept at it and I was finally out of control, sobbing, tears and snot running down my face. Finally she stopped, and I started to get up.
“We’re not done Mike. Stay down.”
“But, why?” I sobbed.
“You have given up control and let yourself cry. Now is when you start being punished!”
With that she picked up my thick leather belt and doubled it over. I leaned back down onto the table and she started. I don’t know how long she kept it up. I was totally out of control crying and sobbing.
Finally it was over. It took a moment for me to realize that the belt was no longer assaulting my bottom. Then I felt Lisa’s hand gently rubbing my back and shushing me.
“It’s over Mike. It’s over.”
“I’m so sorry, so sorry, so…” I repeated over and over.
“I know love, I know. You are going to be my husband and I love you. Behind every great man is a great woman. I will be your great woman. And when you don’t live up to your commitments I will spank you. Do you understand?”
That was ten years ago. I have rarely gone a month without her needing to spank me. In fact, on our wedding night, as we finally got into the car, she asked, “How’s your bottom?”
“Really sore,” I said as I slid across the seat. I had forgotten to do something and the night before our wedding we had found time (in my mom’s hotel room, in front of my mom) to have her blister my bottom. She has been doing it ever since. And we’ve never been happier!


Married Lady’s Empowerment Club

Debby and Sandra came up with the idea about a month ago. We were having dinner at a local restaurant after one of out discipline sessions with Sandra and Don. He and I could barely sit after a particularly rigorous session from our ladies. Don and I were put through our paces. As always our wives read our latest transgressions out loud and then decided between them what the punishment should be. I had been caught masturbating to web porn and knew I was going to get it bad. Don hadn’t done anything bad to deserve punishment but seemed to suffer guilt by association and got a good dose of the cane from Sandra. I got the cane, strap and paddled by both women until I was blubbering like a baby. That night both women were discussing the positive impact of discipline in our lives and wondering how to introduce more women to the lifestyle. By the time dinner was over the idea for the Lady’s Empowerment Club was formed.

The next day I called the local newspaper with an ad that the ladies had written the previous night. It read,

learn how to take charge of
your relationship the old-
fashioned way. A club for
women in f/m relationship”

The women who took the ad asked me what it was about and I told her that it was for women who discipline their men. She giggled but didn’t say anymore. I wasn’t sure what would happen but that night the phone started to ring. Debby would take the phone into the other room but I could hear her tell the women who called that she believes in discipline in a happy marriage and the club will be for women to learn and share information. Some of the calls ended quickly but some seemed like long conversations. Debby took the names and numbers of the ladies interested and by week’s end she had quite a list. Sandra came over with Don on Saturday to make plans. I didn’t know what the idea was now and Debby didn’t tell me anything. Don and I sat on the deck talking while the ladies planned in the living room. After less than an hour we were called into the living room. Both women looked pleased with themselves. They said “Congratulations! You boys are going to be the first members of the “Husbands Club”. We must have looked puzzled because Sandra said “let’s show them what we mean”. Right away the paddles were out and we were ordered to bend over. Our pants were dropped and our butts were tanned while the girls said things like, “there you go” and “that should be a good show”. I still didn’t know what the club was even though I had been spanked for being in it.

Debby was on email and phone with the women on her list for a couple of weeks when she told me not to make any plans for the next Sunday afternoon because I was going to be needed at home. That day I had cleaned the house while Debby got some party appetizers ready. I had a sinking feeling that I was in for serious discipline. At one o’clock Debby told me to take a shower and put on the clothes on the bed. I showered and put on the boxers and khakis but there was no shirt.

While I was in the bedroom the door bell rang, as I came down stairs I saw that Sandra had arrived and another women was here as well. Introductions were made and I was told to get drinks. Withing 20 minutes nine other women had arrived. Debby and Sandra were being great hostesses, I got the drinks and put out the food. Debby called me from the kitchen to the livingroom were all the women were seated. Sandra apologized to the group that her boyfriend had a business emergency but said that Gary would be able to handle things by himself. I had no idea what I was supposed to do but Debby just told me to go stand in the corner. This is part of my punishment, I stand naked in the corner hands on my head until told I can leave. I quickly got into the corner which made the ladies giggle. Debby and Sandra started to address the women present. They told them that they punish their men and the great benefits they receive. I listened while the details of our disciplinary relationship were discussed with total strangers. I was just standing there when Debby told me to get her equipment. I left the corner and went to our closet to fetch the brush, paddles, leather strap and the dreaded cane.

When I walked into the living room I was told to lay the equipment on the coffee table and sent back to the corner. Each item’s effects on my butt and application techniques were discussed.. I could tell the ladies were all interested by the questions they asked. My heart sank when Debby told me to “come here”. When I was standing beside her she said “let’s start with the basic”. As she was talking she unbuckled and unzipped my pants and dropped them to the floor. I closed my eyes anticipating the next move but she pulled me across her lap with my boxers still on. Somehow this felt easier than having been exposed as I expected. Debby gave me several hard swats while giving the ladies a “lesson” in spanking. After a few I felt her pull my boxers down below my knees , I just kept my head down while the ladies laughed. Debby layed into me hard, soon I was squirming and moaning ignoring the audience. After a hard, bare hand spanking I thought I was done, but Debby asked if anyone wanted to try. No one said anything but soon a women said “yeah come here!” Debby pulled me up, I had kicked off my pants and boxers and was standing naked, she led me to the lady who had spoken who was sitting on the loveseat across the room.

I felt so humiliated I couldn’t meet any one’s eyes. I placed myself on the lady’s lap as quickly as possible and immediately I felt the smack of her hand like a paddle. She layed in fast and furious saying things like “oh yeah, I need to bring this home”. Debby encouraged her and all the other ladies as well, I was placed on three other laps, luckily the last lady seemed to take it easy on me but I was in tears the whole time. When no one spoke up to have me over their laps I thought I was done, but I should have known better. Sandra pulled me off the last lady’s lap and walked me to the middle of the room. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life but I knew better than resist. Sandra told me to bend over, of course I did immediately. Sandra then proceeded to give the ladies a lesson on each of the implements I had brought down. First came the brush, hard and solid on my already sore butt. Then the narrow wooden paddle all around my lower butt and thighs. I could tell that I was marking up because both Debby and Sandra reminded the ladies that I’m fine and it takes a lot. I didn’t feel fine at all, the rubber paddle made my knees tremble and the smacks echoed loudly. Last the cane, Sandra gave some demonstration swings that made a swooshing sound in the air. I tried to brace myself but the first stroke made me yell out loud. Debby told me to behave and I tried to brace myself.

Sandra hit me twice more and said “ok ladies, go ahead give it a shot.” I stayed in position while all the women used the various implements on me. I never knew what to expect, paddle, strap or cane. For at least an hour I excepted what ever was dealt out, Sandra and Debby made sure that each women had a turn with each implement. At last I was sent to the corner, naked and sobbing while all the ladies made their good-byes. I was shocked when I heard Debby say to the women that I was at their disposal and Sandra said that next time Don will be here too. When the house was empty Debby pulled me out of the corner and gave me a big hug, Sandra was standing nearby and gave me a pat on the shoulder as well. Debby thanked me for helping out so well and told me to go clean up. My butt was on fire that night and the phone rang non-stop but I didn’t hear any of the conversations. The next Sunday Sandra and Don came over for lunch. I was still sore and not looking forward to a punishment today. Lunch went smoothly and there was no move to start a punishment session from the ladies.

We were sitting on the deck when the door bell rang. I got up but Debby told me she’d get the door. One of the women from last week came in with what I presume is her husband. Introduction were made but instead of being social Debby sent Al to the corner, he looked at Janet but quickly went to the corner. Immediately Debby said “get ready”. That means strip quickly, Sandra looked at Don and said “come on what are you waiting for”. We were standing there as Debby got her implements out. Janet was given a personal lesson by Debby and Sandra on each implement on both Don and I. Al just stood in the corner the whole time while we were being punished. Once Don and I were both well worn in Sandra asked Janet if she felt ready. Janet replied “oh yeah” and told Al to come here. Don and I were sent to the corner but I heard Janet tell Al to strip. He must have hesitated because I heard the smack of a paddle and heard a grunt from him. Debby said “ok let’s start this right”. I heard loud bare hand smacks and soon Al was moaning. I could tell that Janet had switched to a paddle or brush by Al’s even louder moans. I cautiously turned my head to look and saw Janet on the couch with Al across her lap and Sandra and Debby standing close by and giving pointers. After his caning, Al was sent to the corner beside us. The ladies discussed and laughed about what had just transpired. We stood while the ladies had coffee and talked until Sandra called us “boys” over. We stood in front of the ladies. Debby congratulated Al on “his big day” and made him thank Janet for his discipline. Debby said that this was the inaugural meeting of the Ladies Empowerment Club the first of many. There have been many conversations with the ladies of the group and I gather there is a big meeting being planned. I’m scared about what may happen, but I know that I will go along with what ever is asked of me in the true spirit of discipline.

The Silent Treatment

It all started with a bank deposit. It really should not have escalated into a battle of wills. But sometimes in marriage a small disagreement takes on a life of its own. It always ends the same in Jane and Steve’s house: Steve ends up apologizing and sitting on a tender backside. You’d think he would learn not to show disrespect.

So, it all started with a bank deposit. That was Tuesday. Steve didn’t like being reprimanded, so he reacted with the “silent treatment,” lasting into Wednesday. Big mistake, Steve. Let’s listen in:


“Steve, there were six deposit slips and checks, but I only see five receipts here.”


“I sent you with six and you came back with five. Didn’t you look at the receipts the teller gave you?”

“Jeez, I did exactly what you told me to. Why can’t you ever be satisfied? Maybe you should say ‘Thanks, Steve, for doing my banking.’ Or do it yourself.”

“Uh, I think that it is OUR banking, and if I am not mistaken, my royalty checks are being deposited into the joint account, and are being shared with you. Is it too much trouble for you to put them in the bank account competently?”

“You always are looking to blame me, aren’t you? If the teller made a mistake, it wasn’t my fault. Every little thing that goes wrong in this world is not my fault.”

“I sent you with six and you came back with five. Don’t you think you could just check to see if all the deposit slips were there before you left the bank? Can’t I expect that much help from you?”

“I told you that I don’t like being blamed for someone else’s mistake! You always say things are my fault. Maybe there were only five in the first place; what about that? You think you are so perfect?”

“Please don’t speak to me like that and don’t use that tone of voice with me.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong and you always treat me like you think I am an idiot! And if I took the blame for this mistake I WOULD be an idiot. But I’m not! And I am tired of being told I am!!”

“Well, young man, that rant is out of line. You will be canceling your golf game on Saturday in order to do some chores around here so you can demonstrate that you are more of a team player.”

“I am not your problem! Go talk to the bank teller. It is not fair for me to be grounded for this!”

“I am talking to you at the moment, and you better hear me loud and clear: you are now grounded for Saturday AND Sunday, young man. You’d better cut your losses and start showing me some respect, or it will be two weekends.”

“That is ridiculous. I am not at fault; the bank teller is. I dare you to go down to the bank and ground her!! Or, better yet, see the manager! Tell them they are incompetent!”

“That’s two weekends, Buster. Say another word and your pants are coming down right here and now. I ought to wear you out.”


Wednesday, after work:

Jane: “I tried to get you by phone, texting and email, several times today. I guess you must have been very busy.


“I was trying to find out if you want to go out tonight or if I should make dinner?”


“What would you like?”

“I don’t care.”

“OK, I will make some fish tacos. You like that.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Like I said, I tried to call and email you at work today, and you didn’t respond. I even sent a text message asking what you wanted for dinner. Why won’t you have a normal conversation with me?”

“I have answered your questions.”

“You have not been speaking to me since last night.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“I don’t like the silent treatment. It is rude.”

“How can I be rude when I am being silent?”

“OK, hold on. Let’s get our facts straight, and then, let’s make sure we understand each other’s feelings and emotions about what’s going on here. You came home from the bank and I asked about the receipts. Would you agree with that?”

“I guess so.”

“And you blamed it on the bank teller. Is that correct?

“It was the bank teller’s mistake. I did what you told me to do, didn’t I? You didn’t tell me to count the receipts. You don’t trust me with the checking accounts, or anything really, because you treat me like I am stupid. I did what you said. But I got grounded anyhow.”

“You didn’t get grounded because of the bank receipts. You got grounded for being disrespectful and oppositional. And now, Steve, you have been brooding all day today. You have hardly spoken to me. I think it is called the “silent treatment.” Isn’t that so?

“No; I have just been trying carefully not to say anything to anger you.”

“Really??!! Have I been acting angry with you today?

“No, I guess you were trying to be nice, to make pleasant conversation. But I didn’t like being grounded for those reasons.”

“So you have resentment toward me and you displayed it by giving me the silent treatment?”

“I wouldn’t say that. If you phrased it that you hurt my feelings yesterday by treating me like an incompetent, and then you grounded me unfairly, I would agree with that statement.”

“And have you ever hurt my feelings?”

“I guess so, sometimes.”

“I am glad you can be honest about that. Do you try to hurt my feelings on purpose?”


“But you know that the silent treatment is a manifestation of hostility, and that it is hurtful, don’t you?”

“Well, uh . . . I guess someone could take it that way.”

“OK, since you are admitting trying to hurt my feelings with the silent treatment, don’t you think there is a better, more appropriate answer to that question?

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you think it might be better at this point to answer ‘Yes, Ma’am,’?”

[Silence, followed by Long Pause] followed by “Yes, Ma’am. . . I . . . I am sorry, Ma’am.”

“When I get the silent treatment I don’t think you love me. Can you understand that?

“Yes, Ma’am.”

DO you love me?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Do you respect me?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And is it respectful to pout and give me the silent treatment like I am some kind of criminal?

“No, Ma’am.”

“Is it respectful to sit here and keep denying what you are doing, arguing with me, when you know I am right?

“No, Ma’am.”

“And what would have been respectful, after the argument and the grounding?”

“For me to . . . be . . . nice . . . Ma’am.”

“And, in specific, what would being nice mean, in that situation?”

“For me to accept your authority and not show resentment when you ground me . . . Ma’am.”

“So . . . what now?”

“Well, I said I’m sorry. And I am, really. Please believe that.”

“Isn’t there a better way for us to work out our problems?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I was wrong. I was wrong to have argued with you about the deposit receipts, or about being grounded. And I should not have acted resentful today by being unfriendly to you all day.”

“And was there more? Didn’t you lie and say you had not been deliberately giving me the silent treatment?”

“And denying my motives . . . Ma’am. Yes, Ma’am, I confess that I did that, too. And I am truly sorry, for all of it.”

“Well, it is certainly true that you could do a lot better with treating me respectfully, and I hope you will, in the future. But I am talking about now, right this minute, after all this pouting and moping around and acting like a martyr, and acting like I am some kind of tyrant. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes, Ma’am, I understand you.”

“Steve, I am asking you what you think should happen now, after this silent treatment.”

“Well, I apologized. And I really meant it. Please forgive me. I won’t do it again.”

“Well, I appreciate your apology. But maybe you can suggest something else that will make me feel better about how you have treated me. Something that might help put us on the path back to loving harmony. What do you think would be a good thing to happen now?”

“Well, it’s up to you, Ma’am.”

“Steve, you know what I am getting at. Don’t you deserve to be spanked?

“I guess that you would probably feel better. . . Ma’am.”

“And wouldn’t you feel better, too?”

“Uh, well . . . uh, maybe, uh . . . I guess it would clean the slate. Uh, . . Well, . . Ma’am. Yes Ma’am, we would both feel better then . that is, uh, after it’s over. I guess.”

“So, are you telling me that is what you deserve? Are you saying that I should spank you for giving me the silent treatment all day, and trying to deny your hurtful intent? Tell me what you really feel, Steve. We both know I am not talking about a sexy little play-spanking, Steve. This is the real thing, punishment to change your behavior. Are you asking me to blister you with a hard paddling?”

“Please, Jane, I feel bad enough already. I was wrong. If spanking me is what you insist upon, I know our rules. I have to accept a spanking if you say so. I am really sorry and hope you can forgive me. I am humiliated already.”

“OK, Steve, I won’t make you beg to be spanked. But you will be getting it, and getting it hard. And I expect you to submit without any resistance when I restrain your hands, do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“But first, I want to finish this conversation, and to be very open and honest with you. Yes, we had some unpleasant words last night. And, yes, I understand that you have hurt feelings at the way I treated you. And clearly you didn’t like being grounded. It is legitimate to have hurt feelings. I understand how you might. Believe me, from being married to you I know what it feels like to have hurt feelings. I can remember lots of times when your treatment of me was way over the line, and it made me feel horrible. So let’s both be honest about that.

“Steve, I admit partial responsibility for our fight. It wasn’t fair to hold you accountable if the bank teller messed up. I was pretty harsh in suggesting you were incompetent, and clearly it did make you feel bad. I can be honest about all of that. But that doesn’t justify your behavior. Your disrespect for me yesterday was plenty of reason for me to ground you, and my decision stands. For the next two weekends, you will be at home, with lots of chores. You know the drill: I am going to put you in an apron, with your bottom exposed, and you will clean this entire house, from the basement to the attic and everything in between under strict supervision. That means I won’t hesitate to write the stars and stripes on your rear with the riding crop. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“ Most importantly, from now on, when I exercise my authority in this household, you must accept it, and be nice about it. You will take criticism and not retaliate or attack me verbally. Your behavior last night and today is why you are being punished today in addition to the grounding and chores for the next two weekends.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“So, right now I am going to fetch the wooden paddle and, again—this will be no surprise to you, I’m quite sure–I’ll also be applying the cane to your backside after the paddling. You gave me the ‘silent treatment’ and with the cane I intend to administer what I call ‘the hollering and howling treatment.’ I guess I should bring the band-aids, too. This dialog is over; go stand in the corner with your pants down until I am ready to deal with you.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

He did as she instructed, and put himself in the corner, with his trousers and undershorts in a pool at his feet. In this situation five or ten years ago, he might have been seething with injustice—the bank teller made a mistake, and then he got grounded, and now here he was about to get paddled and then – horribly, to receive a caning, too. But, now, he put aside his ego, and focused on humility. His ranting was childish and the silent treatment was suicidal. What had he been thinking? And now he was going to get what he deserved. He felt foolish, guilty, and ashamed. A few tears came to his eyes and then rolled down his cheeks.

His reflections were interrupted by a familiar and dreadful sound — her wobbly rattan cane rattling against her Holy Terror oak paddle. His backside was unfortunately too well acquainted with them both. He looked around and saw that she held the implements together in one hand, and the restraints in her other. He prepared himself to feel the fires of hell on his poor rear, and then having to sit with regret for the next several days.

She affixed his arms and hands behind his back, and bent him over the back of the couch. Once he was positioned to her satisfaction, she paused to savor the intimacy of this ritual. In spite of the impending drama, the next thirty seconds seemed almost spiritual. The room was peacefully quiet, except for her patting the hardwood paddle against her palm and the sound of his breathing as he tried to mentally prepare himself.

He softly uttered “I promise to be more respectful . . I . . . I really love, you . . ., and I am really sorry . . . Ma’am.”

She felt calm, no longer angry. She stopped patting her palm and ran her fingers through his hair, lovingly. But she was resolute, definitely resolute. She thought to herself, “Sometimes spanking his bottom is very arousing, and gives me pure joy; other times, not so much. I’m sure it’s difficult for him, but my part isn’t easy either. Spanking with purpose requires strength of character, because I am always tempted to be lenient. And, really, he is a pitiful specimen of a recipient. He’s not the least bit brave in the first place; any decent paddling has him blubbering and begging before I’m half-way done. And he can hardly take a caning at all: his bottom is adorable and inviting, but it invariably cuts easily, so he usually gets at most about a half-dozen medium-strength strokes. The bottom line is that even when he is being punished he is a self-centered brat who has no appreciation of my efforts.”

She came back to the present reality, and moved forward to take care of business. The gentle, rhythmic tapping of the hardwood shifted from her left palm to the crown of his right cheek. First, she increased the tempo, and then the force, rapidly snapping it in the same spot, building something of a sting. It was not quite a warm-up, but it signaled she was getting a running start. She took a deep breath and set her teeth. She inhaled deeply again, twisting her torso to the right as she drew the paddle far back behind her right shoulder. Leaning into the stroke and using plenty of wrist, she delivered a shockingly hard smack, almost but not quite as hard as she could. Of course, he howled like it was the end of the world.

Coming to understand my role

I had been on my best behavior for a couple of weeks because I knew that Debbie was having a really hard time at work. It wasn’t bad enough that she lost out of the promotion she was entitled to, but Ed from another division with a bad reputation as a sneak and manipulator got it. Debbie’s best friend at work Elaine was calling every night to complain about “the new” guy. Every day Debbie came home more upset and on edge. Having signed the DWC contract I knew I had committed myself to except any discipline that Debbie sees fit at any time. Having Debbie so tense and nervous at home really started to effect me, even though I was doing my best to be on top of everything at home, I could tell that “office trouble” was causing Debbie anxiety and stress. Every night, while the calls between Elaine and Debbie became longer and longer, I tried to be cheerful and accommodating.

One night after Debbie came home late and immediately got on the phone with Elaine I
realized that I had been selfish and unsympathetic. I had expected any discipline Debbie’s discipline as her effort to improve my attitude, but I forgot that my role is also to support her emotionally as well. On this day, when she got off the phone with Elaine I stood beside her with her rubber paddle in my hand. I know that she likes that paddle because of the noise that it makes and how effective it is on me. Debbie looked up at me and saw the paddle and said, “Honey, what’s this?” Without saying anything I handed her the paddle and started to take my clothes off. She didn’t say a thing as I laid myself across her lap, but her hand gently caressed my bottom and she whispered “I love you”. Immediately the paddle landed square on my cheek, individual smacks of this paddle are somewhat light, but noisy and Debbie loves using it hard and fast. I braced myself for the spanking and was really trying to be on my best behavior since this session was all for her. I braced for the worst but Debbie stopped after 30-40 smacks and caressed my butt. She thanked me and pulled up for a kiss and I noticed her eyes were wet with tears. We made love that night for the first time in a while; I slept wonderfully knowing that I had given something of myself for my wife’s emotional support.

I hadn’t thought out the consequence of my actions, but the next day Debbie called from the office to say she’d be late, because she’s stopping by the gourmet store on the way home. I thought we were going to have a romantic dinner. When Debbie came home, she called me to the door to see what she bought. Debbie pulled a large wooden spoon out of the bag, I just stood there and she said, “honey, I really appreciate what you did for me last night, I know it must take a lot for you to have done it”. She handed me the spoon and said, “I’ve heard about using one of these, and decided that now was the perfect time to try it out”. Debbie took the spoon from me and told me to “get ready”, my signal to strip fast for a spanking. When I stood naked, I took a dining room chair and started to move to the middle of the room but Debbie stopped me. She said, “I’ve been thinking about this all day, come with me”. Debbie took me by the hand and led me to the kitchen. She left me standing in the kitchen while she went to the living room and grabbed a cushion of the chair. Debbie pointed to the table bench and pointed to the middle of the room, I quickly grabbed the bench and placed it where she indicated. Debbie placed the chair cushion and placed it in the middle of the bench. She said, “ok, honey lie down on the bench, bottom up”. While I positioned myself on the bench, with the cushion pushing my butt in the air and my hands on the floor Debbie took one of the kitchen chairs and sat just behind me. Debbie said, “ you are such a sweetheart and don’t think I don’t appreciate it”. With that the spoon landed square and hard on my butt. I arched my back in surprise, every implement feels different and this spoon was not what I expected. It wasn’t like a paddle; it was like a hand but smaller. With my butt high up and her sitting just behind me, Debbie was able to swing the long handled spoon with precision. She got every inch of my cheeks and upper thighs. Occasionally she would concentrate on one spot until I started to squirm in panic until she moved on. There was no way of knowing how often the spoon landed on my butt. The tempo varied from fast and furious to slow and deliberate, I looked behind me several times to see Debbie totally concentrating on spanking me with a stern look of concentration on her face. After what seemed an eternity Debbie said “ten more”. This is how she usually ends a session, I will receive ten of the hardest, but I know that will be the end of it. The last ten really did push me over the edge, that simple wooden spoon whistled as it cut through the air. When she was done, Debbie rubbed cooling lotion on my butt and told me to get up. She have me a long, hard hug and thanked me for being such a wonderful husband. I felt wonderful; I wasn’t made to stand in the corner as usual and allowed to shower immediately. I was surprised that though my butt was sore and stinging, there were now bruises.

The next day Debbie called me last thing at work and told me to “be ready” when she comes home. I wasn’t expecting this; I thought I had done my duty for her for the last two days. When Debbie came home I was naked in the corner, and not happy about another spanking session. Debbie called me to her and said that “I appreciate what you’re doing for me, I know it hurts but I need a release from the stress at work and baby… you’re it!” With that Debbie pulled me to the sofa and told me to lie down on my back. She told me to lift my legs up high. Debbie hooked my legs under her left arm, which pulled my butt off the sofa and left her right hand free. She then proceeded to flail my butt with the spoon like a machine gun going off. A couple of times reflexes would cause me to bend my legs making her struggle to keep me in position. When I did that she grabbed the heavy wooden paddle on the coffee table and gave me several hard swats to “learn how to stay and behave”. It took a lot of will power but I was able to hold still and not resist as she set fire to my ass with that spoon.

I received nightly spankings for more than a week. I just came home, stripped, placed the spoon on the coffee table and waited for Debbie to come home. The change in her was amazing, Elaine had gone on vacation so there was no one to talk to, but Debbie’s mood was fantastic. She was light, funny telling jokes and couldn’t keep her hands off me. I knew I was doing my part in our relationship by giving Debbie the means to vent her frustration. Late Sunday night the phone rang, it was Elaine calling the minute she got home from vacation to find out the latest from the office. I could only hear Debbie’s part of the conversation-“oh, nothing has changed at all….. really, I sound different…well yeah I know what it is…. my husband let’s me vent all my anger….
mmm… well, I spank his bottom until I feel better…. absolutely serious….yeah I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow over lunch. I still have a hard time with other people “knowing” what goes on, but I trust my wife, and realize that she is empowered to decide how our house is run. But now how am I going to face Elaine at the next office party?

Debby and Sandra II

Debby and Sandra were becoming closer and closer all the time. After being there for her first ever spanking I had only been disciplined in her presence one other time. I had told Debby that there was going to be a dinner meeting one night after work and to expect me home by 8:30 – 9 p.m. The meeting had wrapped up early and several of us decided to stay for drinks. Since it was early I thought nothing about staying for a while longer. Unfortunately I lost tract of time, when I glanced at my watch and saw that it was 9:30 I knew I was in big trouble! I should have called but I just raced home arriving just a little before 10:00. I knew Debby would be mad (my lack of punctuality was one thing that was on our DWC contract). I expected her to meet me at the door with an implement in her hand and punish me on the spot. To my surprise she was sitting in the living room watching TV and barely glanced my way when I came in. All she said to me was, “Go to bed, we’ll deal with this later.” Debby went to the office early the next morning so I didn’t see her. About ten in the morning she sent me an email saying in as few words as possible that she and Sandra were going for dinner after work and that Sandra would be coming over after. I was to have the house spotless, set up a dining room chair in the living room for punishment and have all her implements laid out on the coffee table. I was also to be standing in the corner “ready.”

I couldn’t concentrate all day and rushed home and started cleaning. I thought if I did as she asked maybe she would soften and take it easy on me. It was 7:00 and the house was done, I went to our closet and got all of Debby’s implements. Her brush, paddle, leather strap and the dreaded cane and laid them on the coffee table. I took a chair from the dining room and positioned it in the middle of the living room. Taking a nervous last look around I went upstairs to take off my clothes. Coming downstairs I heard the car in the driveway and had barely enough time to get to the corner before the door opened and Debby and Sandra came in. Coming into the living room Sandra said, “At least Hess done things right this time.” Debby replied that she was going to check the house to make sure I had cleaned it well. She told me to make myself useful and make them a couple of drinks. I hurried out of the corner catching Sandra’s eye and seeing that she had a big smile on her face. The drinks were ready when Debby came into the room, I handed the ladies their drinks and was sent back into the corner while they sat on the couch. They were talking about me, how disrespectful it had been to be late and the punishment that they thought was appropriate. Debby ordered me to have a seat in the dining room chair facing them. I received a lecture on timeliness, keeping promises, being trustworthy and generally living up to DWC husband behavior. All the while Debby was lecturing Sandra would interject points and the two would discuss my behavior. After a good 15 minutes of scolding Debby said, “Ok, lets deal with this issue.” “Get in position!” I got up and bent over the chair. Debby asked Sandra to hand her the brush and I immediately felt the kick of it as she landed her first blow. I yelped and Debby said, “That was nothing; you might as well get ready to be here a long time.” Another strike on the other cheek, she meant business. After about 20 smacks she handed the brush to Sandra saying, “Why donut you tell him what you think?” Sandra swung just as hard, by now my knees where shaking, and I was sweating and crying. I heard Debby say it was time to move on and I felt the lash of the strap low on my thighs. It felt like I had been stung by a thousand bees! She let up after a few, stepping back to let Sandra swing the brush. After several hard swats with the brush Debby asked Sandra if she would like to try the strap. They were being so light and convivial talking about the best application technique. Debby said, “Here give it a try.” My butt caught fire as Sandra landed the strap right where she had been concentrating with the brush. She said, “Oh yeah, I like this” and proceeded to lash me hard. Debby encouraged her efforts and punctuated each lash with a swat from the brush. I was reeling with pain and embarrassment. I could hardly keep my knees locked when I heard Debby say, “There, how about ten more each!” I felt a wave of relief knowing it was coming to an end even though the pain of each alternate lash from the ladies was almost unbearable. When all twenty had been given Debby and Sandra laughed brightly and commented on my well used bottom. I just stayed in position crying, waiting to be told to get to the corner or take a shower but not expecting to hear, “Well enough warm-up, lets get to the punishment!” I couldn’t even formulate words to beg forgiveness as Debby took me and led me to the back of the couch. She pushed me over so my legs were straight and I was on tip toes with my head way down by the seat. She stepped back, slapped my butt hard with her hand and said, “There, perfect target for the cane.” I panicked but was too frozen with fear to move. I heard the cane whistle in the air as Debby displayed it for Sandra saying, “Now this is how we make a big point.” I heard her say, “Watch this.” I can describe the pain as an explosion, I felt it and saw it at the same time. The cane set fire to my already beaten backside. After a few strokes Debby handed it to Sandra to try. She missed, landing the lash just above my knees, it stung terribly but not like striking my butt. Debby told her to try again, this time she landed straight across my but like a surgeon. I lost track of how many lashes I got with the cane, but it was more than all the other times combined. Just when I knew I couldn’t take any more Debby told me to get up and come here. She took me across her lap on the couch and proceeded to hand spank me while reiterating the cause of my punishment. She demanded a sincere apology slapping my butt until she thought I sounded contrite enough. She then had me apologize to Sandra for having to take the trouble to punish me and sent me upstairs to shower.

The best part of taking the discipline is that there are no lingering hard feelings, I felt like Debby and I had cleared the air and could move on with clear consciences. Sandra came over a lot but there was no punishment session, just friendship, it was like Sandra was becoming family. One day Debby mentioned that she had invited Sandra and her new boyfriend Don over for lunch the next Saturday. I fired up the BBB when they arrived and got drinks all around. Donis about my age, also into golf, we had a lot to talk about. After lunch we were sitting on the patio when Debby excused herself. So far everything going great, good conversation, new friend, a perfect Saturday afternoon. Then Debby stepped out on the patio holding her newest implement, a rubber paddle! She told me that I had left the toilet seat up again (something I work hard to remember) and, “You know what that means.” I was about to protest but Debby took me by the hand and led me into the house. I heard Sandra say, “Oh, oh, now Hess gonna get it,” and laugh. I expected Debby to lead me to our bedroom but instead she walked me into the spare room she uses for sewing. The window was open with Sandra and Don sitting less than three feet from it. Loud and clear Debby told me to “drop them.” I quickly pulled down my pants and shorts and leaned across her sewing table. The rubber paddle stings, but doesn’t hurt as much as wood, it does however make the loudest smacking noise of anything. Debby landed a hard one on my butt, the sound reverberated through the room and out the window, I heard Sandra giggle. Another fell on the other cheek. Debby was lecturing me in a loud voice about the toilet seat while landing blows all over my butt. Even though each hit doesn’t hurt too much, in quantity it builds up fast. My eyes were wet with tears and I was moaning loudly when Debby ended with a fast and furious volley of strikes. She told me to pull my pants up and get back to our guests. She didn’t even let me wash my face. When we stepped on the patio Sandra said, “There all better?” Debby laughed and said, “You bet.” I noticed Don wouldn’t look at me, and was squirming in his seat. Sandra turned to him and said, “There isn’t that better than letting a problem get out of hand?” In a soft voice he answered, ” Yeah, I guess so.” The rest of the afternoon went easy and Don seemed to overcome his embarrassment or what ever it was. We said good-bye and that wed do it again soon. The next morning the phone rang and Debby picked up. All I heard her say was, “Really, it worked then.” It was obviously Sandra and obviously good news. When she hung up Debby was smiling from ear to ear and told me that Don went across Sandra’s lap last night for a good, first time spanking. Apparently the ladies had the whole BBB planned to get this result.

It had been about a month, Debby had kept me posted on Donis progress as a DWC man. He was getting regular “maintenance” spankings and had received on discipline session for forgetting to call when he said he would. Debby invited them over for dinner one Saturday night. Sandra looked amazing, vibrant and confident, Don looked like he was losing weight and was dressed great. They were obviously very happy together, lots of touching and affection with Don very attentive to Sandra. During dinner, small talk progressed from general topics to discipline. Sandra and Debby discussed there various rules, what kind of discipline various infractions get and even very personal details about Don and I. Both Don and I were clearly uncomfortable and just sat quietly. After dinner was put away Sandra asked Don to bring a couple of dining room chairs into the living room. He looked confused but complied, when he came into the living room Debby came in from the other side carrying all her implements. She put them on the table saying to Sandra that she should definitely start with these. They were both sitting on the couch while Don and I were just standing there when Debby said, “OK Hon, get ready.” I looked around nervously, but she told me to hurry up! I quickly stripped and just stood there looking down when Sandra said to Don, “Come on, what are you waiting for?” Debby ordered me into position while Don stripped. Sandra grabbed him and put him over the chair a couple of feet from me. We both just looked straight ahead embarrassed. Sandra said, “Oh yeah I like this” and lashed Don with the strap. He yelped in surprise but remained in position. I felt the hair brush on my butt and heard Don get another lash simultaneously. Debby gave Sandra some pointers on the strap and then handed her the brush. The strap landed across my butt and I heard the smack of the brush landing beside me. I was trying to keep control in front of Don, but I started to moan and groan. Don was letting go and soon we were both oblivious to each other and just focusing on the discipline. I heard Sandra say it was time to try the cane. Don yelled in surprise and pain as the first lash landed. Debby complimented Sandra on her technique. Sandra landed a few more and then handed the cane to Debby. Soon they were alternating between us. It seemed like they could go on forever, the ladies were joking, laughing and obviously enjoying themselves. Don was in tears and moaning as much as I was. My knees were giving out and I was sobbing loudly just wanting it to stop when I heard Sandra say, “That seems enough for now.” Don and I were allowed to get dressed and settle down. After a couple of drinks Sandra and Don left. I got a sisterly peck on the cheek from Sandra but couldn’t meet Donis eyes as we shook hands. Both ladies laughed and said we should do this more often.

It is amazing the camaraderie that develops between DWC folks. At Debby’s insistence I invited Don out for a game of golf. We were awkward with each other at first but then soon conversation flowed easily. Even though we didn’t speak of the other day there was an obvious bond between us. Don and I have become good friends and we see them both frequently. Both Don and I know that when the four of us get together we will definitely be getting disciplined but wouldn’t have it another way. True friends like Sandra and Don are hard to find and well worth the “pain” and effort of keeping.

There for a friend

Debby and I are getting more comfortable in the DWC lifestyle in our house, but except for a small group of like minded friends with whom we get together, no one else really “knows” about my discipline. About two months ago Debby started talking about a new woman in her office named Sandra. She’s just been through a rough divorce and is apparently having a hard time. Debby and Sandra have been having lunch frequently lately. Last week over dinner Debby was talking about Sandra and said “I’ve told her about us”. I asked her what she meant (not thinking) and she informed me that she told Sandra I get spanked for discipline and any time Debby sees fit. I was a little surprised but didn’t think much of it until the next Saturday when Debby told me that she had invited Sandra over for lunch.

I opened the door for Sandra; She’s a very attractive woman, about forty. You could tell that she was a little nervous meeting me and seemed in general to be a little bit “mousy.” Debby had asked me to grill some salmon for lunch but after it was done I stayed outside doing some yard work so the girls could talk. I wasn’t trying to listen but I could hear at one point that Sandra was crying softly, a little later there was some mischievous laughter from both ladies.

I was just about to mow the lawn when Debby called me and asked me to come into the living room. When I stepped in I saw that Debby and Sandra were sitting on the couch, there was a dining room chair facing the couch and Debby had her favorite hair brush in her hand. Debby told me to have a seat on the chair. She told me that she invited Sandra over to see how we handle problems in our house. She talked about men needing discipline to get control over themselves and all the benefits that a good spanking achieves. I got the feeling that it wasn’t so much a lecture for me, but a lesson for Sandra. I looked over to Sandra and although she still looked quite shy there was also a look of eagerness in her eyes.

When the lecture was over Debby said “OK, lets show Sandra what I’ve been talking about.” She told me to get up and stand by the chair. She told me to “get ready” which means STRIP! FAST! I took my clothes off without meeting Sandra’s eyes. Debby walked over to the chair and pulled me over her lap. She shifted me into position and said to Sandra “see this could have solved all your marriage problems.” Debby started slow, lecturing all the time about manners, bad habits and generally being a good husband. The paddle came down harder and faster until I was moaning and tears were in my eyes. Debby would interject her lecture to me by saying things to Sandra like, “See, I told you it works” and, “Don’t forget, you’re the judge of what it takes”. When Debby finally let up she gave me a couple of seconds to catch my breath still over her lap and said to Sandra “see how easy it is?” I was sent to the corner, still naked while Debby and Sandra talked a little about what had happened. I heard Sandra say that it was certainly interesting and gave her something to think about. After Sandra left, Debby rubbed a cooling lotion on my butt (which she never does, after all its supposed to hurt), and gave me a big hug and kiss for being such a good guy, helping her to help her friend.

Debby didn’t mention Sandra again that next week but on Saturday morning she told me that she invited Sandra over in the evening. My heart sank, I hadn’t been punished since the previous week, but I had a feeling there was going to be another spanking for me tonight. Sandra arrived just after supper, when I answered the door I was surprised by how different she looked. Sandra had gotten a hair cut and colored and looked me in the eyes when I said hello. She seemed much more confident than she had just a week before. Debby took Sandra into the living room and asked me to fix them a couple of drinks. When I came into the living room I was relieved that there was no chair moved into the room like last week. But my relief disappeared when I saw the hair brush in Sandra’s hand. Debby said “look what Sandra bought, isn’t it great.” I gulped, it was a real old fashioned heavy wood hairbrush, and Sandra was holding it like she meant business. Debby told me that she and Sandra had talked about last week every day over lunch and Sandra was ready to give discipline “a try.” I looked at Sandra and she was leaning back in the couch with a smile in the corners of her mouth. Debby told me to “get ready.” I quickly stripped, this is the most humiliating part of punishment for me, especially in front of another women. Debby pulled me over to where they were sitting side by side on the couch and pulled me over both their laps. My chest was just off Debby’s lap, but my butt was right in position over Sandra’s lap. Debby pinned my right arm behind me with her hand and held my waist with her other which is something she never does. She said “OK honey, this is all Sandra’s, so behave!” I held my breath and heard Debby tell Sandra to go whenever she’s ready. Suddenly I felt the brush on my backside, but it didn’t hurt at all, I don’t even think the brush landed square. Debby said “there you go, take all the time you want” After a second I felt the brush again, this time it hurt, landing square on my cheek. Debby said “don’t worry about the color, it takes a lot to make a point, just go ahead, as much a you need.” I barely had time to take a deep breath when the blows started. Sandra was hitting hard, landing all over my butt. Debby kept encouraging her on with pointers like to “get everywhere” and “don’t hold back.” In no time I was squirming and moaning but Debby held me tight. The spanking seemed to take forever but Sandra started to slow down. I thought it was over when Debby said “don’t worry about the bruising, he’ll be fine, just let it all out!” I realized I was being punished for all the things that Sandra’s ex had done to her. She seemed to catch fire again. I was crying out loud and begging for it to stop when I heard another sound. Sandra was making the same noises that tennis players make when their rackets connect to the ball every time her brush connected with my butt. This was by far the hardest I had ever been spanked. After what seemed like an eternity she stopped, Debby asked her if she needed more but she said no. Debby applied some lotion to my butt while I was still across their laps and gave me some time to settle down. When I was composed she had me get up and suggested I take a shower and calm down.

When I came out of the shower Sandra was gone and Debby gave me a big hug for being the “Greatest Husband” in the world. She thanked me for being there for her friend. The next Monday I could barely sit at my desk at work when flowers came for me. They were from Sandra, the card just said “thank you” and there was a coupon to a day of golf at a good local club. Even though it hurt like mad, it feels great to know that I’m fulfilling my end of the DWC contract of being there at my wife’s discretion.

A couple of weeks later Debby told me that Sandra met a man she likes and that they may be coming over some time. I’m not sure what to expect, but I know that Debby is in charge of the discipline in our house and I will be there no matter what.

Disciplinary Wives Council

Debby and I were new to the DWC lifestyle and had never been to any kind of event. We were excited about attending Aunt Kay’s Weekend Husband Immersion Program but I was also quite nervous about it because I knew that Debby and Aunt Kay had been in communication already. I asked what was going on but Debby would just smile and say “you’ll see”.

We were the second couple to arrive at the house and started chatting with the other couples and Aunt Kay and her husband. I couldn’t believe how much like our friends at home they were, just nice normal people. After all the couples had arrived and formal introductions were made, Aunt Kay carefully explained the rules of the event and what was expected from the men in particular.

We were to be on best behavior, meaning acting like gentlemen, at all times with all the ladies. The women were all empowered to discipline any of the men; right on the spot, if they felt it was appropriate. My anxiety level went up even more after all of that was explained. Soon couples were disappearing upstairs and coming down a few minutes later with the men looking quite subdued. I was talking to another guy when
Debby grabbed my arm and said “let’s go” in a tone I knew well. She took me to a guest room upstairs and said “strip”. I know better than to argue but I was getting quite excited, I knew she was going to spank me in a stranger’s room like and it was a strange feeling.

As soon as I was positioned across Debbie’s knee, Aunt Kay walked into the room. I barely had time to register my embarrassment and try to make sure my privates were not exposed. Aunt Kay told me that part of what she did was she was personally make sure that the men “felt” the intention of the weekend.. Aunt Kay told me she was going to set the tone and ordered me across her lap. I looked at Debby and she had a
smile on her face. I must have taken to long to obey and Aunt Kay slapped me hard across the thighs. I jumped across Aunt Kay’s lap as quick as I could with my knees shaking. Aunt Kay told Debby that I obviously needed some work, I looked at Debby and she was smiling even bigger. Aunt Kay proceeded to give me a no warm up, no-nonsense, spanking. Just like that! When she was done she had me stand and thank
Debby for bringing me. Aunt Kay walked out of the room and Debby told me to get dressed.

When we got back downstairs the other guys were busy arranging the furniture, a banquet table faced the sofa and all the chairs. I noticed Aunt Kay was handing out paddles to all the women. When the furniture was arranged Aunt Kay ordered the men to stand in front of the table facing the women who were seated. I was really nervous about what was coming after Aunt Kay’s spanking upstairs. Aunt Kay said that to get
over inhibitions we were going to start the weekend off with a spanking “musical chairs” style. She told us guys to drop our pants. The sight of seven naked butts waiting punishment brought a round of applause from the women. I was bent over the table staring straight ahead unwilling to meet any of the guys eyes when Aunt Kay said “ok ladies ten of your best just like we planned”.

Instantly Debby was beside me laying in with all her might. We were all getting spanked simultaneously! I was still reeling when the next women came to me and Debby went on to the next guy. By the time the third lady was taking her turn I had lost all self control and was whimpering and moaning, all the other guys were in the same boat and that just seemed to encourage the ladies efforts. When all the ladies had their turn we
got a round of applause and hugs from our wives. I just couldn’t believe this was only the beginning.

After a great dinner Aunt Kay announced it was time for the “show and tell” part of the get together. The women had drawn straws as for the order they would demonstrate. We were the fifth couple, I had never witnessed another couple conducting a spanking before and was riveted by them. Guys were bent over chairs, made to touch their toes and lie on a bench. When it was our turn my legs were like rubber. I looked at
Debby and could tell what was coming. I was going to get caned, laying on my back, legs in the air holding my ankles. This is my most embarrassing position and Debby knows it, but she says it gives her the best angle for caning. Debby took to her role and gave me the longest caning so far. I couldn’t even hold my head up when she was done and just went back to my spot on the wall. When every couple had their turn
Aunt Kay congratulated the ladies on their technique and specifically mentioned Debby for her use of position to help increase the emotional impact of the punishment.

The next morning we all had breakfast together and chatted. I couldn’t imagine facing these people after yesterday, but today it seemed so natural. One of the wives came over to Debby and I and said she was really impressed with our display last night and wondered if she could borrow me. I looked at Debby but she just smiled and said of course. Susan took me by the hand and took me to one of the spare bedrooms. I
was dreading being spanked by her, I just didn’t know if I could take it.

When I got to the room I saw that her husband was there as well. Susan said she enjoyed our demonstration the best last night and wanted to try the technique on her husband as well, but having seen me hold the position she wanted to try it out on me as well to gauge her husband’s reactions. She had us both assume the position, Keith on a bench and me on the bed. At least I couldn’t see Keith directly but I heard the
punishment he was getting when she went back and forth between us. My eyes were wet with tears when Susan finished but I think she took it easier on me than she did Keith. She handed me back to Debby and said how well behaved I was and how much she enjoyed it, I just hung my head.

After lunch Aunt Kay sent all the men into the backyard and told us to wait. We were all nervous about what was happening, especially since one by one the wives would come in take their husband in but the guys would not come back out. Eventually Debby came out to get me; she grabbed me by the arm and walked me through the kitchen. By now I was willing to do what ever she wanted without argument as she led me through the dining room and pulled me through the door to the living room. When we stepped
into the living room all the wives were facing me sitting behind the banquet table like a panel of judges. This was absolutely the most humbling experience I have ever had. I couldn’t even hold my head up. Aunt Kay explained that at this get together the women were going to be able to vent all their frustrations about their husbands and get the
other wives feedback. All the women would make notes and determine a discipline they saw fit for each husband. That meant I was going to be punished six more times that night!

Debby proceeded to tell the women all my worst habits and attitudes. The women took notes and asked questions. Debby confided the most intimate details about me and all I could do was stand there. When she was done sent me to the front of the house to wait for all the men to be done. The wives were very excited and talkative through dinner but all the men were very quiet in anticipation.

After dessert Aunt Kay announced the “finale” of the weekend. Each husband was told to set a piece of furniture up until the whole room was rearranged for discipline. Aunt Kay had the guys stand against the wall in our underwear to wait our turn. Aunt Kay read each punishment card like a game show host.

First was Ryan, 15 strokes with the strap, bent over administered by Debby. I watched as Ryan grabbed the strap and handed it to Debby. He went to the middle of the room and Debby pulled his boxers down. She laid into him hard, he moaned but kept position. While he was getting punished Aunt Kay read us all some of his offences, very personal
details were read out loud while he was getting his punishment from my wife. One by one all the cards were read. I got caned, strapped, paddled and spanked in every position imaginable. Half way through I was emotionally numb and willing to take any order given with out question.

When every card had been read, Aunt Kay lead the ladies in a round of applause to us for being man enough to do the right thing by our wives. She then had us thank each wife individually for her effort in our improvement. My butt may have taken a beating but my mind was clear, a lot of bad feelings Debby had were addressed and resolved this weekend. I know I’m a better man for the discipline.

The Morning After

My wife began spanking me two years ago. She had asked me twice to wash the dishes. I kept repeating: “In a minute dear,” but kept loafing in bed reading sports magazines. Finally, my wife silently entered the bedroom in her soft flowery nightgown and got into bed. As we both nodded off, we began to cuddle. She is so beautiful. I love her hips and her bottom and her auburn eyes. I was almost asleep when I thought she murmured, “There will be a new regime tomorrow morning. We’re going to discuss your not helping enough and then I’m going to discipline you. This woke me up. I wondered if she’d put me over her lovely, maternal lap and spank me. If she did I would be easily overpowered because I’m smaller than her. “But…” I turned to her, but she was fast asleep.

The next morning, I awoke with the room suffused in light. The windows were open and the curtains were blowing. My wife was sitting cross-legged on the bed watching me intently. She looked so lovely wearing her long string of Indian beads. “I thought I’d let you sleep in so you’d be rested and mindful of why I’m going to spank you. You have not been pitching in with the chores, Carl. What’s the problem?”

I looked at her dumbfounded. I thought it had just been a dream.

“I thought so. You were too wrapped up in being self-centered to even know how displeased I am. I’m going to give you a good spanking with my hand and then this Victorian brush. You need a mother’s love and discipline and I intend to provide it to you once a week, naughty or not.” She very gently took my arm. I hesitated. She said: “You know I love you.” I nodded. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. “And you know you’re powerless against me physically. I can pin you in two minutes.” It was true. My friends used to kid me about how diminutive I looked standing beside her at barbecues. My reverie was interrupted when my wife shimmied her beautiful body back against the headboards and patted her lap. I laid across it submissively. “Let’s see,” she began, and carefully positioned my bottom, now poised for her discipline, to optimize aim and velocity. “You have such a spankable round bottom! I used to love patting your behind when we were standing around at picnics with our friends.” She pulled back her hair and clamped it with a clip behind her. She smelled of jasmine.

The hand spanking began very lightly, like feathery caresses, not at all unpleasant and gradually increased until I started to feel slightly warm–then in minutes, very warm. Oddly, I felt loved more than anytime in my life. She softly reproached me for my behavior as the spanks got louder and louder. She announced, after 10 minutes, that my bottom was now a very bright pink. She rubbed and scratched it. The blissful feeling was over and I felt the nerve endings on my bottom jump, retract and pucker. I struggled but she held me firmly in place.

She picked up her brush and spanked at a menacing pace. I writhed like mad. The brush made a ‘Tick-Tick-Tick’ sound. She said, “I don’t like doing this.” Tick-Tick-Tick. The spanks were expertly delivered across my entire bottom and my thighs. To my great embarrassment, bereaved snuffles from me became undignified cries. “I’m sorry!”

“Good boy. I want to hear you cry. I want you to become innocent as a baby and dependent under my discipline and care. Then I want to spank you some more. I’m going to spank my authority into your sweet, round bottom. Now, hold very still, sweetie. Can you show mommy how good you can be?”

“Yes,” I wept.

She spanked very hard and fast across my cheeks and thighs for another minute. I was howling. Suddenly, it was over. She cupped her hand on my bottom, then gave it a deep massage. She put her glasses on and reached for some lotion on an end table and kneaded it in. I cooed when I heard the squirt and felt the cold lotion cool the fire. Finally, she let me up, and stood me up in front of her. Our eyes met. They were wet with tears. “You will do your chores from now on,” I wept and nodded. She held me and I found myself cloying tenderly at her face.. “Now” she said moments later. You are confined to your bed for the rest of the day. If you get up, you will get a hand spanking. Tonight, we shall discuss the new regime together. Tomorrow you will clean out the garage and boat. Remember, I love you and discipline is an expression of that love.” She tucked me in and kissed me good morning, or rather, goodnight. Then she sashayed out of the room with her glasses dangling from her hand and removed the clamp to let her red hair fall down. I lay in the light with my tears and wept from time to time about things of little consequence. She left the hairbrush behind on the bed with me.

On The Bench

by Sonny

“I’m going to whip you so hard you won’t sit down for a week,” said my wife after finding out I’d forgotten to enter yet another ATM withdrawal. “How many times do I have to tell you. I don’t care if you make them, just write them in the checkbook.” I didn’t have an answer because she was right. I always manage to forget to enter them and it finally got to her.

“Since tomorrow is your day off don’t expect to be doing anything other than what I tell you,” she informed me. Do you understand?” “Yes ma’am,” I replied, knowing I was in trouble and deserved it. When she wants to, she can give me a spanking that leaves my ass sore for days, but I’d never made her this mad before. I wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow, I was unaware she planned to start tonight.

During dinner she was her usual sweet self, but as I was finishing she said, “when you’re done eating I want you to take a shower. Then present your bare butt to me in the living room.” I didn’t answer right away and she glared at me, waiting for a response. “Well,” she demanded. “Yes ma’am,” I meekly replied and went to do as she ordered.

As I showered, I reflected on how I came to be in this predicament. After we were married we started telling each other our fantasies, and my favorite has always been a good, old fashioned, bare bottom spanking by a beautiful woman. She was hesitant at first, but once she started, she proved to be an expert. She even takes me out to the woods and uses a switch to blister my bare bottom.

Aside from the obvious benefits in bed, she discovered that soundly spanking me markedly improved my behavior. The more often she applied the strap or paddle, the better it worked. We were to the point where she was spanking me at least once a week, but lately she had been distracted by work and more than a month had passed since my last one. Obviously, I had lapsed back to my old forgetful self. Now I would have to pay for it.

The sudden blast of cold water brought me out of my reverie and reminded me that we have a small water heater. But even the cold water couldn’t wilt my erection. The thought of what my wife was going to do to me had me hard as a rock. I was actually looking forward to the whipping I would soon be getting.

After drying off, I dressed in my uniform and walked into the living room where she was waiting to begin my punishment. She was sitting on the couch holding her small paddle and she smiled when she saw the condition I was in. “I don’t think you’re going to find this whipping all that exciting,” she said as I stood before her. “This one won’t be fun, but if you’re still hard when I’m finished, I just might make use of it.” Patting her lap she said, “you know where to go, don’t make me tell you.”

Slowly, I crawled across her lap and was no sooner in position then the paddle landed, hard. And it kept landing hard. This was no ordinary warm up. She meant business and my bottom was on fire after only a few swats. If this was the warm up, I wasn’t looking forward to what was going to happen on the bench. She has a wide variety of paddles, straps, canes and switches from which to choose for the real punishment, and she knows how to use them all.

I tried to keep count of the swats she was giving me, but she had that small paddle landing so fast, I lost track around 80. She had to be well on her way to two hundred before she paused to check the heat of my inflamed bottom. “Hmm, not quite ready yet,” she commented and resumed paddling my stinging buns.

After another furious burst she slowed the pace and made sure every inch of my bottom was thoroughly reddened. From the tops of my cheeks to halfway down my thighs, she made sure I was beet red and ready for the bench. She had never paddled me this long or this hard before and I began begging her to stop.

“I’ll stop when I’m good and ready,” she told me, “and for the next few days you’re going to think about why you got this whipping every time you sit down.” She gave me another thirty or so swats before she laid her paddle on the table and said, “that should be warm enough. Now I want you to get up and go in the bedroom. I’ll be in in a couple of minutes, and you know how I want you.” “Yes ma’am,” I replied standing up. “Tell me,” she demanded, wanting to hear it from me.

I hesitated, eyes downcast, hoping I wouldn’t have to answer, but she was in no mood to be patient with me. “Tell me,” she demanded again, “if you know what’s good for you.” “On the bench,” I mumbled and turned to go. “Yes, and I want you to think about why you’re being punished,” she said as I left the room.

I really was being punished. This was no play acting on her part, it was the real thing. The worst part was she was right. I should remember to write down the withdrawals, but for some reason I usually forget. Now my ass was paying for it, and if the warm up was any indication, it was going to be a long, painful evening. I didn’t know how right I was.

As I lay there, draped over the bench, my flaming ass high in the air for her to punish further, I realized how lucky I was to find the woman of my dreams. Though she was really punishing me this time, I’ve always liked being spanked and now was no different. I was looking forward with a mixture of fear and anticipation to what she had in store for me.

My heart started pounding as I heard her walking down the hallway. My time was up. The execution of the sentence was at hand and it was going to hurt. She walked into the room and commented on what a nice target I presented, and then proceeded to tie my hands to the bench. “I know you’re going to wiggle tonight so I’m going to make sure you stay put,” she said as she pulled the strap tight around my legs. She was right. I couldn’t get up if I wanted to and now I was completely at her mercy. She didn’t give me any.

“I’m going to paddle and strap your bottom for a while before I cane you,” she informed me as she pulled her large paddle from the drawer. “And since you neglected to enter a fifty dollar withdrawal, you’re going to get fifty swats with each one.

The paddle whooshed through the air and laid a streak of fire across my tender cheeks. Nine more followed in quick succession and then a pause to let them sink in. “I guess I’m just going to have to start spanking you on a regular basis again,” she said as she paused. “You were doing so well when I kept your butt red all the time. I guess mom was right, boys never do grow up.”

I heard her raise the paddle again as she resumed my punishment. This time it was forty strokes, slow and measured. Each one bringing an involuntary cry of pain from me as the paddle burned across my naked bottom. “I see I’m getting your attention,” she sarcastically commented as she laid a particularly hard stroke at the bottom of my cheeks.

“OW, please not so hard,” I cried, hoping she would show a little mercy, but the next stroke was just as hard and she was far from finished. “You’re in no position to tell me how hard I should spank you,” she said. “You earned this and you’re going to get all of it. Just hope I don’t loose count and have to start over.” The paddle continued to leave its mark and I did my best not to disrupt her count.

After she gave me the last stroke, she replaced her paddle in the drawer and told me I had a few minutes to reflect before I received the strap. She walked out of the room and I lay there clenching my poor cheeks trying to relieve some of the sting.

This was the hardest I’d ever been spanked and I knew I wouldn’t be sitting comfortably for a few days. As the sting subsided to a warm glow I began to relax. My breathing returned to normal and my thoughts turned to the punishment I still had coming. The strap I’d had many times before. It burned, but it was infinitely more tolerable than the cane. Unless, of course, she used the tawse. Which is a wickedly painful instrument all by its self. Split down the middle like it is, it feels like two straps landing at once. Fifty with it would be more like a hundred.

Lost in my reverie, I didn’t hear her enter the room and was brought abruptly back to reality by the first stroke of the strap. The crack of the leather on my naked bottom rang like a gunshot in my ears and I was to startled to cry out. “That was just to make sure you weren’t sleeping,” she told me, “now that I have your undivided attention we will begin.”

I heard her step back and raise that wicked strap. The pain was indescribable as she worked her strap from the tops of my cheeks down to the middle of my thighs in five strokes. I clenched my bottom in anticipation of the next stroke, but it didn’t land. “Unclench those cheeks young man,” Doris commanded, “I want to see them bounce when I strap you.” With a moan, I relaxed my bottom, but she still didn’t resume. Instead she patted my blazing bottom and said,”I know you want to get this over with as fast as possible, but I’m enjoying myself, besides if I give it to you too fast you’ll get numb and I want you to feel every swat.”

She let another minute pass that seemed like hours to me before delivering another set of five identical to the first. She was right, I felt each searing stroke and my bottom felt swollen to twice its normal size. She paused again to let me relax and absorb her handiwork. She gave me three more sets and then laid her strap across my back, patting my inflamed bottom she said, “don’t go any where. I’m going to get a drink, then I’ll pick up where I left off. You better hope I remember.”

I prayed she’d remember. I was halfway through my strapping and didn’t want to start over. No matter how much I like her to spank me I never wanted another punishment like this. I might not be sitting down for a week after this one.

A few moments later she breezed into the room, sat her glass on the table and asked, “let’s see, now where were we.” She picked up the strap off of my back and said, “ah yes, strapping my naughty boys bottom. I believe you still have twenty five strokes coming, isn’t that correct”? “Yes ma’am,” I knew better than to lie and say it was less. “why are you being punished,” she asked. “Because I forgot the ATM,” I quickly replied, not wanting to anger her further. “Very good, your memory’s improving already. By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll remember those ATMs won’t you”? “I’ll remember them now,” I pleaded hoping she’d end my punishment here and now. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy,” she told me. “You still have twenty five coming with the strap and you have the cane to look forward to after that.”

I heard her step up and begin her swing. I involuntarily clenched my cheeks, anticipating the blow at the top as before, but it landed across my thighs instead. “Unclench those cheeks, or I’ll start over at one”, she commanded. I willed my bottom to relax just as the next stroke landed right above the first. She worked her way up this time and number five landed at the top of my poor cheeks. “OWWwwwww,” I moaned, but I only had twenty more to go.

She paused as before and enjoyed a sip of her drink. I began to relax as the fire spread throughout my blistered bottom and faded to a hot glow. CRACK! I hadn’t heard her start again and was caught unprepared for the wicked stroke across the center of my bottom. “Nice bounce”, my wife commented, “that’s the way I like it.” CRACK! She wasn’t following any pattern now. The strokes were landing at random and for the rest of my strapping she would watch for my bottom to relax and lay her leather across the very center. It was definitely a strapping to remember.

When she finished, she told me I had fifteen minutes to think about what was yet to come and walked out of the room. I relaxed and tried to calm my breathing until her words struck home. The Cane. Fifty with that and her prophecy would come true. I wouldn’t be sitting for a week. Oh, why did I forget that ATM.

No More Snooze Alarm

Morning came too soon as the alarm went off at the usual time. Instead of getting up, I rolled over and pushed the snooze button. Just as my head again hit the pillow, I felt Kat’s soft lips on my neck. “Come on sleepyhead,” she whispered, “time to get up.” “Oh honey,” I groaned, “I really need some extra sleep. Please, just this once, let me sleep in a little.” She said not another word, but rolled out of bed. I took it as ‘silence means consent’ and with a heavy sigh, rolled over and closed my eyes.

For a while it was like old home week, sleep for seven minutes till the alarm sounded, hit the snooze and sleep another seven. I played this snooze alarm game till the last possible moment finally getting up at five fifty-eight.

I went to the bathroom and got my shaving mug and headed for the kitchen. Kat was sitting on the couch with the newspaper in front of her and only grunted at my greeting. I went into the kitchen, which obviously had not been the action central. Oh well I thought as I put the kettle on, I could hardly expect a good breakfast with time so short. I turned the fire to the lowest point so as not to burn the pot up while I was in the shower, and went back to the bathroom.

After my shower, I returned to the kitchen to fill my shaving cup. She was still sitting on the couch reading the paper. This time I said nothing.

Finished in the bathroom, I glanced in the living room as I went to my office to dress. She was still reading the paper, but was dressed now in tight-fitting jeans. I also noticed she had on perfume, as I could smell it as I passed her bathroom. It was a light, and very feminine scent call Lace, and it was one of my favorites.

After I finished dressing I went to the kitchen to make my lunch and fill my water bottle. Then back to the office to get my stuff together. After putting on a sweater jacket I grabbed my briefcase, and turned out the light.

As I rounded the corner from the hall to the living room, the scene before me took a minute to reconcile. Kat was sitting on one of the dinning room chairs, purposefully placed in the middle of the room. She was wearing Jeans and boots with a man’s white dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled up. Her hair was combed and she was wearing makeup. She was seated with one leg elevated, the heel of her boot hooked over the bottom rung. She leaned forward, her right elbow on her knee with her fist under her chin. Her left forearm was lying across her leg,. In between her legs, from her hand, dangled her hairbrush.

“I trust the extra sleep will be worth it,” she said. It seemed as though she looked right through me. “Now,” she said, I want you to think very carefully before you answer this next question. Are you ready?” “Yes ma’am,” I said, “but do you realize what time it is? Can’t we do this when I come home? I going to be late to work.” “Oh yes,” she replied, “I know exactly what time it is and as for your being late, yes you will be, and that’s just too damn bad. Now here is the question, think back to Monday morning. What did I say when you started to play the snooze game? The same game you mistakenly thought I allowed you play this morning? Think carefully now, you know what happens to liars.” My mind flashed to the memory of the taste of Lavender and answered.. “You said that there would be no more snoozing, that I was to get up when you said or when the alarm went off, which ever came first.” “Very good,” she said sarcastically, “Now did you or did you not break the rules when you stayed in bed past when your alarm went off?” “Well, I guess so, but” “No buts. Did you or did you not disobey me? Yes or no.” “Yes,” I admitted. “Well now just what do you think I’m going to do about that?” “Spank me?” I ventured, knowing full well her intention. “Right again,” she said, “You not only missed a great breakfast with the best of company, but you are going to be late to the office and as an added bonus, you are going to go to work with a very red bottom. Now unload your burden and get over here. “I walked slowly to the couch and placed my stuff there. Then turned slowly and walked over to stand in front of her.

There was a time when I had to take my pants down before she spanked me. Now, she insisted on doing it herself. As she began to tug at my belt she said, “you are going to be very sorry you disobeyed me, and your fanny is going to be even sorrier.” She finished unfastening my pants and jerked them down around my ankles. “You have gone too far this time mister, and I am telling you that I will not tolerate your wanton disobedience any longer.” She slid my underwear down and picked up the brush. “Get over my knee right now,” she said tapping the brush impatiently on her thigh. I laid myself across her lap and attempted to steel myself for the worst. “Bad boy she said in a shamming voice,” and the first spank fell with a resounding crack I was certain could be heard for blocks.

The spanking was lengthy and painful although she stayed pretty much on the fleshy part of my buns, she snapped the brush with gusto all the while scolding. “You are a very naughty boy,” she said as she continued to her attack on my bottom. “You should be ashamed of yourself, big man like you over his wife’s lap having his bottom blistered like an unruly ten year old.” The brush continued to fall. “From now on you are going to do as I say when I say it. Every time you fail to follow the rules, I will spank your bottom crimson and I will spank you as many times as in necessary until you learn that you can not choose which rules to follow and which to break.” The spanking continued and so did the scolding. I will spank you every day, three times a day if that’s what it is going to take for you to come to the realization who is boss around here. The spanking stopped. I was sobbing miserably.

She laid the back of the hairbrush on my hot cross buns and said, “I hope this will teach you a lesson.” This was followed by three fast spanks. “Are you going to get up when you are suppose to from now on?” Again the brush fell and I answered through my tears, “yes ma’am, I will, I promise. Please no more. “Oh, I don’t think you are sincere enough,” she said. Again the brush bit me in several different places and I wailed, “I do mean it, I will never over-sleep again.” “Bet your bippy you won’t,” she said and again the brush rained down on me. “You won’t ever oversleep again because if you do, I will not wait to spank you. You will be taking a hot shower with a steaming bottom,” and the spanking continued.

By this time I was, as I had many times in the past, starting to doubt my motives for being in this humiliating position. The thought of being over her lap was enough to make me drop my own pants and fling myself at her waiting knees, But during the actual spanking, especially a punishment spanking like this one, I really wanted to be somewhere else. It was funny in a way and I guess not that unusual. Although at that moment I wanted to be able to turn back the clock, or at the very least for her to stop, I knew that I could not escape and that she would stop when she was ready and not before. I also knew that after it was over, I would feel better as I would be drained of emotion and completely at peace with the world and myself. It was this thought made the spanking worth the pain and the delicious feeling afterward was something that could only be experienced. There was no way I could explain the afterglow of a sound spanking that made me feel like the most loved person in the universe. With each stinging spank, I knew that the wonderful feeling would remain even longer when it was over.

Kat continued to spank my bottom with her hairbrush. She also continued to scold me. At this point I was way over the hump. The spanking itself was keeping the home fires burning and my crying had reached the saturation point. I surrendered unconditionally and lay a limp spanked mess over her lovely lap, when once again she stopped.

“Now, she questioned, “has my bad boy learned who makes the rules?” SPANK “Yes ma’am, you do,” I cried. “Are you going to do as I say, when I say?” SPANK “Yes ma’am always.” SPANK “You are lying,” she said, in addition to a blistered bottom, how would you like to go to work with the fresh taste of soap in your mouth?” “No ma’am, please don’t do that.” “Then answer the question without exaggeration.” The brush came down three times and I cried, “I will always try to be good and to follow your rules,” “That’s better,’ she said, “and when you do break the rules, and you will, what can you expect from me?” “You will punish me as you see fit,” I said. “Right.” SPANK “Now I am going to finish this spanking. When I get through you are to go stand in the corner until you can stop crying. Then wash your face, and come to me for inspection before you go to work. Understand?” “YYYes ma’am.” “Good, now one last thing. You are going to beg me to spank you in a manner that you know I will anyway.” If you do a good job and ask me nice, I might go easier on you. If not……….

This was a new wrinkle. She had never ever wanted me to beg to be spanked. Now she not only wanted it, she was demanding it. “Well?” she questioned. “Ma’am, I have been a very naughty boy and deserve your loving discipline. I beg you to spank my bare bottom as long and as hard as you think necessary. The spanking should be such that I will not soon forget what will happen if I go against your wishes or otherwise act naughty. I ask that you spank me now, as I need it and want to be purged of all my guilt.”

With that she said, “I accept your request and will now fulfill it. You are a very naughty boy at times and it because I love you that I punish you when you misbehave. I will now finish your spanking in the manner in which you requested.” With that she laid at least fifty more swats on my sit down in a volley the made me cry and howl so loud and so long that by the time is was over, I was breathless. She put a period on the session with one last punishing spank across both buns and pushed me to the floor. “Get up and go to the corner.” I said nothing and all but ran to the corner still crying and rubbing my burning bottom.

I spent a long time sobbing loudly. She seemingly paid no attention at all, but went about her business. I stood with my nose in the corner. My bottom seething with fire. I took heart in the fact that once the fire cooled some, the warmth of her love would be with me for days, even if there were no more spanking during that time, which now seemed very unlikely.

When I finally got hold of myself, I pulled up my pants and went to the bathroom. I Looked in the mirror at my backside. It was as red as she had ever made it. The signs would not fade quickly. I washed my face, brushed my hair, added some cologne and looked at myself. The only sign that I had been crying was the red eyes, which I was sure, would disappear before I reached the office.

I came back into the living room. She was in the kitchen straightening up. I got my stuff together and went to the kitchen. She was at the sink and I came up behind her and kissed the back of her neck. “MMM,” she muttered. I turned her around and looked her in the eye. Then I got down on my knees and said, “Thank you ma’am for loving me enough to spank me when I’m wrong. Your loving discipline gives me direction I never had before. I love you.” She pulled me up. Planted one on me, and said, “You are a bad boy sometimes, but I am very glad that you are my bad boy. Now get to work, I will call and tell them you overslept.

On the way to the office I sang songs like No Greater Love. I was very up though quite uncomfortable. I whizzed through the day and hurried back to her. That night we made love. I was wonderful sex with lots of laughing – except when she played with my bottom – and lots of consensual touch, slap and tickle. There were climaxes of course and when it was over, it was late. She said, “tomorrow will be a good test of the lesson I hope you learned this morning. It will be very hard for you to get up when the alarm goes off, but get up you will. If you even entertain the idea of sleeping in I will spank your bottom twenty-five times for each minute you procrastinate.” “Yea ma’am, I understand.” “Good night bad boy,” she teased. She kissed me and rolled over so I could cuddle in behind her, where I slept most of the night.

When the alarm sounded the next morning, , I was out of bed and into the shower. I think she was somewhat disappointed that she was not going to get to take me to task again. She needn’t worry, there will be other times and other reasons. If I didn’t see to it with my actions, she would think of something, of that I was sure.