Sunday, August 29, 2010
That next morning I woke up at my normal time, but left the house without kissing him on the cheek or much less even bothering to wake him up to say goodbye. Instead, I slammed the front door on my way out of the house and did not make him a lunch, something I do every day out of love. At work, I never bothered to call or text him and he never called me.
I entered the house to see him sitting on the couch working from home. A basket of folded laundry was on the kitchen table. I said nothing, but sat down on the chair next to him in a huff, assuming we would talk it out.
"If that is how your attitude is going to be you might as well go upstairs right now." He said.
I ignored him, watching intently Law and Order on TNT. I knew he was about to spank me, but I still felt I was right and justified in going off on him about not doing his fair share around the house.
"Don't make me say it twice."
I stood up and pounded past him up the steps, refusing to look at him. Upstairs I was fuming. How dare he spank me when he was the one who was not doing his share of the work! I went into the bathroom.
I heard him coming up the steps after me and before I could get my pants all the way back up he was in the doorway. "Leave those off and get over the bed."
"You can't just hit me whenever you want to." (I purposely used the word hit to make him feel guilty.) I said as I walked past him, removing my slacks and underwear and then bunching the comforter and assuming my position, bared bottom high on the bed.
I purposely turned my head away from him, determined to not even flinch, no matter how hard he spanked me.
He sat down on the bed next to me. His large hand came down hard on my exposed bare bottom. Three times hard to the same cheek and then three times to the other cheek. I held my breath, keeping still.
"Now, speak." He said.
I proceeded to tell him how frustrated I was that it felt like lately I had been doing all the housework, plus working almost time and a half as this is the busiest time of the year for me. He listened patiently as I talked.
"May I talk now?"
"Yes Sir" I responded, slowly realizing that I was definitely over-reacting, and maybe PMSing too.
"Tara, did we not just close on the refinancing of the house on Monday?"
"Yes Sir" (gulp)
"Did I not just tie up all the loose ends regarding the fence outside and my mom's nursing care?"
"Do you understand that this is an exceptionally busy time for me at work as well?"
"Well then, can you see why bringing up the laundry from the basement and vacuuming the steps was not high on my priority list?"
"Yes Sir" (Now I felt really tiny)
"Good. Get the lexan."
I stood and retrieved the lexan, heart pounding. I handed it respectfully to him and assumed my position back over the bunched up comforter.
WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK
"That is for not coming to me calmly to talk things out."
"Yes Sir." Wow that burned.
WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK
"That is for your attitude today."
"Yes Sir" My eyes were tearing up a bit now and the fire had definitely taken off in my bottom.
WHACK WHACK - two more exceptionally hard spanks hit right across the center sit spot, taking my breath away.
"Those are because I can and will "hit" you anytime I want. Is that clear?"
"Yes Sir" I laid still, catching my breath, listening to him breathe.
"Am I done Sir?"
"You are done, put away your paddle and come here."
I put the paddle under the bed and then rolled over into his loving arms, bottom throbbing, but my heart at peace.
The benefits of a spanking now and then are just wonderful, even if it hurts.
A few years ago Thomas and I had developed a system of maintenance spankings… every Wednesday at 7pm I was spanked. Time went on and we both were promoted at work and things just became so busy that the scheduled spankings faded away. Well, I asked him if we could start them up again as part of our New Year’s Resolutions a week early (That ordeal is a different story), and here is the true life account of my first maintenance spanking in quite a few years… There have been plenty of spankings, but the scheduled maintenance spankings had not been routine… until yesterday.
What was I thinking asking Thomas to start Maintenance Spankings again? Why do I do this to myself? Oh, yes, it is because I need it.
Well, there I sat at the kitchen table filling in my analysis of the past week. He had given me a checklist to fill in and I was doomed if I did and doomed if I didn’t as far as the answers. To make things worse, the lovely, yet awful ginger plug was securely in place and he was enjoying the view of his bare-bottomed wife squirming in her chair filling in the checklist.
Rate each item on a scale of 1-10:
Bathroom cleaned: 8
Closet door closed: 6
Bedroom/Bath counters clear: 6
Kitchen counters clear: 7
Dishes maintained: 7
Floors Swept: 8
Laundry maintained: 7
Lights turned off: 5
Bed Made: 10
Bedroom picked up: 7
Downstairs picked up: 6
Preparation for maintenance (plug, notification): 10
Cupboards/fridge organization maintained: 8
Other infractions: 9
Hand – 120-115
Belt – 115-110
Wooden Lighter Paddle – 110-105
Wooden School Paddle – 105-100
Bath Brush -100-95
(All subject to change per Thomas)
“Tara Marie, are you finished?” Thomas’ deep voice carried into the kitchen from the den jolting my mind off the ginger plug and back to the discipline session of the moment.
“Well, bring it up to my office and we will review it.”
I delicately took the paper Excel spread sheet and led my husband up the steps and into his office, making sure to keep my cheeks tightly clenched to hold in the plug as I climbed the stairs. Standing in front of his large cherry desk, I handed the checklist across the workspace to him, eyes focused on his perfectly blotless blotter. (I hate that he is so neat!)
“Well, Tara Marie, I agree that these maintenance spankings are long past due. I hope you are aware that your answers had better not be much different than mine; you know the consequences.”
“Yes Sir.” I swallowed hard, praying that he would not be too strict. My bare bottom was fully exposed and I was scared. My husband is a wonderful man, but a severe, no nonsense spanker. The burn of the plug was beginning to wear off, but it was still very uncomfortable and the anticipation of the spanking to come was eating me inside.
“To the corner young lady and I will input your answers.”
I stood with my nose deep in the corner as we reviewed the list together. (Well, he did all the talking, I dared not argue.) My 7 on keeping the counters clear changed to a 4 and my 6 for keeping the downstairs picked up also was changed to a 4. He laughed at the 10 on making the bed… stating that he would go with it only because he had been off that week and was out of bed after me every day, making it his responsibility for making the bed. My 8 for keeping the refrigerator organized changed to a 4 as well. Finally, the “other infractions” I gave myself went from a 9 all the way down to a 5 as he reminded me of various bouts of attitude, slovenliness, and laziness.
“Tara, I kept the fridge organized and the pantry. You did a great job cooking for everyone, but you never put anything back in the same place it came from. You either left it on the counter of put it on a completely different shelf. That discrepancy will cost you.”
I swallowed hard from the corner. I could not believe he was being so strict. I heard him clicking on the computer as he entered the numbers on the spread sheet. Why do men love Excel and the little formulas so much?
“Tara Marie, your total is 96. Do you know what that gets you?”
“Yes Sir.” My heart sunk as I realized from memory that I was about to receive a thorough dose of the bath brush… and that was a minimum, as everything was to his discretion. I had gone from thinking I was getting the light wooden paddle to the heavy solid bath brush.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
I desperately wanted to tell him that it was not fair to be so rigid on the first week back of doing this. I had not known until that day that we were starting this back up, so the numbers would be low. Instead, I kept my thoughts to myself and simply answered, “No Sir, sorry Sir.”
“You will be. Your answers will cost you in severity. Look at me.”
I turned to look at him. I knew from his demeanor that he was not going to go lightly on me. I loved that fact, but it terrified me as well.
“The plug stays in. Go get the brush and wait for me in the corner.”
I turned and left the room and walked down the short hall into the bedroom. I placed the dreaded bath brush on the dresser. I removed the rest of my clothing (the top and socks, I was already bare-bottomed) and waited in the corner.
I heard him enter and pull the chair away from next to the dresser. (He also locked the dogs out, as they get very defensive when he spanks me.)
I carefully lowered myself over his lap. I grabbed the wooden rails of the chair and focused on the tan rug. He adjusted me, secured me in place with his arm and patted my bottom.
“Hold your position young lady.”
He began to spank my upturned bottom with his large hand. Slow at first, then increasing with speed and intensity. He spanked me thoroughly moving from cheek to cheek, down to my lower thighs, to the top of my cheeks and back across both cheeks at once with one hand. He stopped occasionally to rub and admonish me and poke at the plug, but he would then start right back up again. I remained quiet, holding back the tears, focusing on the plug and the deep warm pain pulsating through my entire body from both the spanking and the plug.
He stopped spanking and I felt him release me.
“Go take the plug out Tara Marie.”
I stood quickly and went in to the bathroom and removed the plug. I knew I had plenty of spanking still to come. I caught a quick glance of my already strawberry red bottom and thighs in the mirror and hurried back over my husband’s lap, afraid to take too long. He repositioned me and then waited, resting the bath brush on my warm bottom.
“Tara, I am waiting.” Thomas said as he rubbed and lightly patted the brush against my hot bottom.
My mind scrambled…. I almost stuttered, but then I remembered the routine…“Will you please paddle me Sir?” I asked, genuinely sorry now and truly scared of what was to come.
“And what implement do you deserve to be severely paddled with Tara Marie?”
I paused, sighed deeply and then responded in my most respectful voice, “The bath brush Sir.” My heart pounded in my throat.
Without warning he hit me very hard one time on each cheek in rapid succession. The pain from the strikes took a second to register, and then the sting seared into my backside. I clenched and then relaxed, kicking my legs up and raising my head by straightening my elbows. I knew instantly that those movements just guaranteed that he was about to thoroughly light up my backside.
Two more HARD whacks met each cheek. I held still this time. Then the rapid fire started. He worked in the same manner as he had with the hand, thoroughly punishing every inch of my bottom and upper thighs. I began to cry and wiggle. He held me tightly and intensified the spanking… fast then slow, hard then soft. I was on fire everywhere. He spread my cheeks and lit up every inch of the tender spots between the cheeks. I started to wriggle and cry. Panic started to set in, but he spanked me through it until I submitted and hung loose over his lap, crying hard. He continued to spank until he knew he had worn me out. I cried heavily as he spanked every bit of resistance out of me.
“Very good baby.” He rubbed my blazing bottom as he spoke. “You are very very well disciplined. You took that very well”
I sobbed as he continued to rub. “Are we finished young lady or do you need more.”
“No Sir.” I replied.
“No Sir we are not finished or No Sir I need more?” (Thomas knows me too well.)
“No Sir, I need more.” I whimpered. (Why I do that to myself I never know… I do not want to say it, but it always comes out.)
He rubbed my bottom. Everything burned and I could feel that my cheeks had already turned hard from the severe spanking. “Your bottom can’t take much more Tara. You will receive four more hard smacks and then you will be finished. You are to count them.”
My crying had slowed to a solid whimper and I braced myself for the strikes. He delivered four solid smacks two to my upper thighs and two to my bottom. I counted all four. When it was over he just rubbed me. I finally sensed that I was allowed to sit up; I kissed his neck and cuddled into his lap.
“You needed that, didn’t you?”
“Yes Sir.” He held me for a few more minutes and then patted my raw bottom as he lifted me off his lap.
“Clean up and we’ll watch a Netflix. Two came today in the mail.”
“What?” I responded back between sniffles. “No sex?”
“No, you know the rules, not after a maintenance spanking under 80%.”
I cleaned up and met him downstairs to watch “The Contract” or something like that. Needless to say, we had no sex last night, but this morning was another story. I have a feeling these Maintenance Spankings will be around for quite awhile.