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."