Obey your wife...

My phone buzzed. I glanced down and saw my wife had just updated one of our shared lists in the Couple app we use for private messages and things like shopping lists. I opened up the app and found to my surprise it wasn't something mundane like milk being added to our shopping, but an update to "Infractions", a list of offences I've committed that are yet to be dealt with. The new item read:

"Leaving me by myself with that annoying woman"

I knew exactly what Pam meant. I'd deliberately avoided meeting an official visiting our home by hiding in the man cave, only making a token appearance just before the woman left and leaving Pam to make conversation. This was after I'd been asked to meet the woman and help share the burden. My bare bottom now had a date with my wife's hairbrush to discuss the issue. Sigh... it would have been less painful to make small talk.

***

Two days passed without the infraction being mentioned, though it was never far from my mind, a black cloud of nerves and excitement. I didn't know whether Pam was mildly upset or truly pissed, the factor that would determine how many days I'd spend standing up. That all changed on Friday afternoon. I had ducked off early with some work colleagues and was enjoying an amber ale in the late afternoon sun when my phone buzzed. It was a text message from Pam.

"Are you at the pub yet, slacker?"

"Yep, on the first beer," I replied.

"Go slowly. You are getting a punishment tonight and you will be home by 7pm."

I gulped and twisted the phone to make sure my friend beside me couldn't read it. "Understood Ma'am," I texted back.

"Good. I want you showered and waiting naked in the corner by 9:30pm. I will come in when I'm ready. Get ready to be very sorry."

It was a subdued next hour at the bar. My friends drank on and didn't notice I'd gone a bit quiet. I was both excited at being ordered home for discipline, but also nervous, reading all sort of things into the choice of words 'very sorry'. In the end I couldn't concentrate on the conversation, had just two slow beers, and made it home by 6pm.

When I arrived, my wife was preparing dinner with her best friend Helen in the kitchen. She appeared surprised to see me, though given her text message I knew it was half an act. "Home at 6pm on a Friday? Nobody went out tonight?"

"There was a fair crowd, half a dozen, but I was feeling tired and decided to come home early."

"Yeah, tough week. You're probably tired from all that talking to Saanvi on Wednesday," my wife said with a smirk.

"Saanvi?" Helen enquired.

"Oh, she's the Indian lady from the department who came over again. Very boring. Unfortunately my husband hid in the man cave and I had to do all the talking."

I looked a bit sheepish, my stomach doing flips at the reason for my impending punishment being discussed openly.

Helen laughed. "Naughty boy. He always leaves you to deal with these people."

"I know," Pam said, now looking at me. "I was not impressed."

Both women shook their heads at me. I failed to contain a slight blush at the disapproving looks.

***

After dinner Pam and Helen disappeared into the lounge to watch Law & Order. There was still a couple of hours to kill before I was due in our bedroom, so I disappeared into the man cave, watched Netflix, and fought battles with the butterflies in my stomach.

Around 8pm, I had a brief encounter with my wife in the kitchen, though it didn't help to settle my nerves. I was washing the dinner dishes when my wife came in to refresh her Moscato glass. She sauntered up beside me and put her hand on my bottom.

 "Not long now," she whispered. "Nervous?"

I nodded.

She smacked my bottom lightly. "You should be." She filled up her glass, then before returning to the lounge, said, "I'll be in around 9:40, if you're lucky. I might make you stew longer. I'd better find you where you're supposed to be or you'll be in even more trouble."

***

The clock flicked over to 9:45pm. I was standing naked in the corner of our bedroom. Time passed. There were no noises from down the hall. I stewed about how much trouble I was in and how easily I could have avoided the situation. I pictured myself over my wife's lap, scolding me in her teacher's voice, hand cracking down with gusto... I got aroused at the image. It's funny how sometimes the place I most wanted to be in the entire world, over my wife's lap, is a lot more painful when you actually end up there. And once I'm over her lap, it's entirely up to her how long and hard she spanks me.

Finally, after I'd begun to get bored and tempted to risk taking up my phone to surf, I heard our gate outside clang shut. Helen had left. My stomach did flip flops. Not long now. I was anxious to get it over with now, though my penis, caught between excitement and nerves, had gone full cycle from erect to flaccid and back many times over the last twenty minutes.

Pam put on the clothes drier outside our room, our best mask for noisy spankings, and entered the bedroom. Sheets shuffled. Pam was on the bed and adjusting her position. A dresser drawer opened and closed. I knew which one it was, and what was in it. I desperately wanted to turn my head to look, but sanity prevailed.

"You can turn around," Pam said.

I turned. She was sitting up against the head of the bed with her legs out. She tapped her thigh with her hand. "Come here, naughty boy."

I shuffled over and lay over her lap, a position I'd found myself in many times before. Her palm rubbed my naked cheeks.

"Now I have a terrible headache so this will just be a spanking tonight dear. Don't expect anything else. Got it?"

"Yes Ma'am," I replied.

"Good. And I've some more bad news. Our youngest is unsettled and has been up already. I don't want to wake her, so you'll not be getting much of a warm-up with my hand. Not that you deserve it anyway. So tell me, why do you think this warranted a punishment?"

"Ah..." I mumbled. "Because you asked me to meet her and I hid in the man cave"

Pam's hand came down with a sharp crack. "Yes, when you knew I wanted you to meet her. You pull this trick with anybody who drops round that you don't like or don't want to make small talk with. You even left me with your own cousin a few months ago."

"Ah, I'm sorry, dear."

Her hand slapped down again. "You don't yet know how sorry you'll be."

Pam commenced her lesson. After a short but sharp hand spanking that left my bottom tingling, Pam switched to the heavy wooden spoon. She rubbed the head over my warm cheeks.

"Time for something quieter and stingier," she said.

In Pam's hands, that big spoon is a weapon to be feared. It's so wide and thick it is probably meant for stirring cake mix, though in our house it is only used for my naughty bottom. She started lightly, the first few dozen a warm-up, before she really let me have it, alternating from one side of my bottom to the other. I was squirming over her lap in no time.

"What are you going to do next time she comes over?" she asked, slowing but not stopping.

It took me a moment to compose myself to answer.  "Sit beside you on the couch. Stay and chat."

"Exactly," she said with a wicked splat of that awful spoon. "Be a good host. Got it?"

"Yes Ma'am," I said, almost a plead at this point as my hips twisted to avoid the spoon.

The spanking stopped long enough for Pam to switch implements. She picked up a wooden hairbrush. "Well dear, that was only two minutes with the spoon. Just two minutes with the hairbrush, two with the tawse, and two with my Scottish school strap to go."

I opened my mouth to express an apology, something that might diminish my punishment, but was interrupted by the brush smacking into my sore and soon-to-be-sorer bottom.

Pam pinned my arm behind my back and gave me every smack she had promised, a sound and thorough blistering, then finishing with a sound hand spanking as a finale. When she had finished, I lay wet-eyed and sobbing softly over her lap, utterly contrite, but in that floating post-discipline haze where I feel extra close to my wife and immensely grateful.

Pam rubbed my bottom afterwards. "Good boy," she said. "All forgiven now. Though I don't think you'll be sitting on this bottom for a while." She chuckled. "Next time Saanvi drops round, you'll be meeting her at the front gate with samosas."

Over the Road

Over the Road (F/M, real-life, many years ago before we were married)

It was a fairly typical Saturday night. Pam and I had gone out for dinner, and upon return, I had been ordered over her lap. The occasion was not a punishment, more of a foreplay activity, though Pam's spankings were always sound enough to act as a future deterrent, a reminder of who was in charge via a bright red bottom. Pam had just finished the warm up and had started spanking me in earnest when the front door creaked open. One more sharp smack landed before Pam stopped. Her hand rested on my warm bottom.

"Is that Chris?"

"I think so."

"Damn it. She's never home so early."

Chris was our flatmate, but between going out late and staying at her boyfriend's place, we hardly saw her, which was perfect for noisy spankings. Another door could be heard closing. There was no doubt - she was home.

"I guess that's the end of that," I whispered, half-relieved, half-disappointed.

Another sharp smack landed. "Don't move yet. I say when I'm done."

"Ow! But you can't..."

"Probably not," Pam said, going back to rubbing. "But I'm nowhere near finished. I really want to spank you. It's been a week and you have it coming."

"There's always the beach," I said.

About a year earlier we had a similar problem with a different flatmate and had driven to a secluded section of beach with a blanket so Pam could spank me. Between the sand and the biting insects, it had been less than successful. I had still ended up with a sore bottom, but it wasn't as fun as a comfy bug-free bedroom.

"No thanks. That was terrible."

"Guess it's over then."

Pam's hand kept rubbing and lightly patting. "But I want to finish this naughty bottom."

More than a little worried Pam was going to spank me anyway, and not wanting to face our flatmate's knowing looks, my mind raced for a solution. "There's always the cliff across the road. It's high and dark."

"Won't the cars see us up there?

"Nah. They'd have to look up too high."

"Ok," she said. "Let's go."

            ***

Barefoot and wearing only shorts and t-shirts, we made our way up the little hill. Below a road turned a corner next to our house before passing beside the hill. A fairly steep cliff made it difficult for people in the cars to see us, though it was not as dark as I'd expected and we'd have been an easy mark for a front-seat passenger who happened to look up.

We found a fairly flat spot on the path we'd been following and sat down, Pam with her legs out waiting for me. Once over her lap, Pam pulled my shorts and boxers down to my knees. Cold night air touched my bottom, though I knew it wouldn't be cold for long.

"Do you think they can see us?" I asked. Now face down over Pam's lap, I couldn't see the passing cars.

"Maybe. I don't care. If they do, they'll just see a naughty boy getting a good spanking."

Without further ado, Pam started spanking me, using her hand but delivering sharp smacks that were no warmup. I squirmed at the sting as her hard palm landed. The spanking continued for several minutes until I was struggling to keep from throwing my hand back in defence. Out in the open the noise of Pam's hand falling on my bare rear sounded as loud as gunshots.

She paused. "There. Now that's a smacked bottom. Or a half-smacked bottom." She reached down and picked up the wooden ruler she'd brought, a long and thick one we'd picked up from a craft shop. More innocuous than carrying a brush or paddle, but nearly as effective. Given my bottom was already smarting, I knew I was in for it. The ruler rested on my bottom, cool wood on my hot skin, a deliberate tease.

"You know," she said, "I think a few people probably saw that. I wonder if anyone could recognise your shiny red bottom."

I groaned at the thought, not entirely certain if Pam was just teasing.

"Let's give them a proper show," she continued.

She lifted the ruler and brought it down it down hard, burning a red line across both cheeks. It was the first of many such smacks, the thick ruler's sting leaving me breathless. Soon I'd forgotten all about the potential for witnesses. I was just another naughty boy getting his bottom thoroughly blistered, a right seeing-to that I'd feel for several days.

"This will teach you won't it," Pam said, slowing but not stopping.

"Teach me what," I stammered. This had started out foreplay and now I was getting a proper spanking.

"Teach you for making me walk across this prickly grass barefoot. I was happy to finish off your spanking with Chris home. She's probably heard it all before anyway. But you made me come out here in the cold and prickles, so I'm going to make it worth my while."

Pam pulled me in closer and took hold of my hand, pinning it behind my back. Then she proceeded to finish off the spanking, a prolonged no-nonsense rulering that left me wet-eyed and making all sorts of ridiculous promises to behave in future, none of which appeared to reduce my spanking's duration.

At last Pam left me up with a close cuddle and kiss. She leaned back and looked me in the eyes. "I think we need to head back so you can thank me properly for your spanking." Then she laughed. "Maybe we'll keep Chris awake after all."