First time OTK with new spoon

Well, I'm sitting on a sore bottom again 😢

Pam decided I needed a spanking last night. There was no reason, it was just too long. When I said, "Well, I guess it has been a while", she replied, "Yes, and it isn't because you've been good."

Pam was rubbing my bottom while she spoke, deliberately trying to get me aroused. She wasn't actually mad, just knew I was overdue for a trip over her lap.

"I have been thinking about it lately," I said, my growing arousal making me say crazy things. "I guess I need a hard one."

She looked me in the eyes. "Do I ever give any other type of spanking?"

"Not really. You give hard or extra hard."

"Extra hard then!"

Pam then ordered me to lie over her lap. She intended using the brand new wooden spoon I'd bought her for our anniversary. It had never been used, so I wasn't sure what to expect.

It's the bottom one in the picture below (you can tell my art isn't as good as my wife's!). The top one is my wife's trusty old favourite that has never been used for cooking anything other than my bottom.

I settled in over Pam's lap. She started with a hand spanking, gradually building the intensity up until I was squirming. It had been weeks since I'd been spanked and my tolerance seemed to be lower tonight. The spoon was going to be a challenge.

"Already getting hot," Pam said, rubbing my bottom.

She picked up the spoon, and without further ado, began to pepper my bottom with it. I could scarcely believe the sting. Either my tolerance was way down, or the new spoon was very, very effective. Perhaps not as thick and thudding as Pam's old spoon, but lighter, able to be wielded rapid-fire against a naughty husband's bottom.

In no time I was squirming, arm pinned behind my back, as Pam danced the spoon over both my upturned cheeks. Finally, as tears started to form in my eyes, she stopped. Her hand ran soothingly over my hot bottom.

"I think you're going to have to work off the couch tomorrow. No sitting at your desk."

 I sniffled in response, knowing Pam was right, and also knowing she wasn't finished yet.

"This is a good spoon," she said, examining the wooden utensil of doom. "Very stingy. Gets the right reaction." Then she rested the wooden head on my bottom again. "Are you going to behave?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I'm sure you will, especially after a good finale to set you straight."

Then she resumed spanking me. She did not focus on my sit spot. Rather she was an equal opportunity spanker and focused on ensuring every inch of my bottom was uniformly scalded. Soon I was writhing tearfully over my wife's strict lap, trying without luck to avoid the sting of her wicked new spoon. The promises and apologies started tumbling from my lips, but Pam had none of that nonsense and dutifully applied dozens more searing spanks.

Later, she let me up for a cuddle and a kiss. The spanking was over, but the night was not. She had not actually been the slightest bit mad or I would have gotten it worse, but these days Pam is a strict disciplinarian and knows exactly how to keep naughty husbands in line.

So here I am, updating my blog on a sore bottom again. It was far from the hardest spanking Pam has given me, but my bottom still feels like it has pins and needles even when I'm standing.

What I am thinking, is next time that spoon gets used it won't get used in isolation. It's now likely to be combined with the trusted old favourite spoon, and won't that be a memorable trip over my wife's lap. 

Maybe I should leave them on her pillow tonight?  😅

Maintenance Spanking Last Night

You can tell we're in lockdown... two posts in a couple of days!

This is just a quick one to describe the maintenance spanking Pam gave me last night. It started with a text message suggesting a "GoT and OTK night", which means watching Game of Thrones, following by me over Pam's knee afterwards. We did this sometimes during the original series and are now working our way through the whole seven seasons again.


We snuggled up on the couch as we watched two episodes, though my nerves were going through the roof from halfway through the second episode. As I've said, it might not have been punishment, but it was still going to be a hard spanking. Pam knows a spanking is meant to hurt!

Afterwards, when we were in our bedroom, Pam announced she was going to have a shower, then when I was hovering aimlessly, she added, "Take your pants off. Stand in the corner."

"Yes, Ma'am," I replied, knowing we were in discipline mode now.

Then she left.

I stood in the corner naked for about fifteen minutes while Pam showered, fed the pets, and got ready for bed. Finally, she came in, and seeing me in the corner, she asked, "Have you moved?"

"No, Ma'am."

Pam collected some implements and arranged herself, sitting up against the head of the bed. "Come here and lie over my lap," she commanded.

I did as ordered, arranging myself over her thighs. Her hand started rubbing my bottom. "Now, I'm not going to use my hand much as it makes too much noise. Our son is still wandering the other end of the house talking to his girlfriend on the phone."

This was ominous as it meant no warm-up and 'stingy but quiet' implements.

Pam gave me a brief, light hand spanking, before realising it wasn't stinging at all and upping the strength of the smacks. It was still short and all too soon she took up the wooden naughty stick (long bamboo ruler from cane-iac labelled with "I've Been Very Naughty"). She had not used this for a long time, and I'd forgotten how effective it is, with a sting greater than a hairbrush. Pam gave me about thirty or forty with the naughty stick before putting it aside. I resolved to hide that nasty thing at the back of the implement collection!

"Too loud," she said. "Time for something quieter."

I knew what that meant and wasn't surprised to feel the OTK cane rest against my bottom. Pam gives pretty much all spankings over her lap these days, though occasionally she'll make me get on all fours for the naughty stick or our longer cane.

What followed was a long, painful caning. An OTK cane might not be as fierce as a full-length caning, but Pam gave me a lot more than six of the best. In fact, she gave the caning in batches, saying, "The cane must be given in sixes," and then started applying it six sharp strokes at a time.  This made it awfully hard to take, and I was soon squirming over her lap.

After a brief respite when Pam gave me another hand spanking, which stung a lot more now my bottom was sore, it was back to the cane.

"This is how you cure a naughty boy," she said. "With a good caning."

Pam then proceeded to give me a much longer dose of that OTK cane than I'd ever had. With a few pauses for scolding, Pam must have delivered over a hundred more sizzling cuts across my bottom, leaving me teary eyed by the time she finished.

It was later now and the night was quiet. Pam picked up another implement. "My favourite, the wooden spoon."

My wife brought the spoon down hard, the wide wooden head burning one cheek and then the other.

"Are you going to behave?" she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And what happens when you don't?"

"My strict wife spanks me."

"Yeah, she does."

Pam finished off the spanking with another forty or so hard smacks of that wicked spoon, leaving me sobbing softly into a pillow. It had been a sound reminder to mind and obey my wife. She drew me into her arms for kissing and some TLC, for while my wife spanks long and hard, it is always discipline lovingly given.

Then we kissed and made up properly, with an orgasm for her!

And this morning I'm typing this post on a blistered bottom that is difficult to sit on, even on a comfy chair. Pam is sleeping in, though she said last night she wanted to find a hard bench for me to sit on this morning. So I imagine we'll be getting take-away breakfast and then finding some hard concrete for my naughty, blistered bottom to sit on.

Edit:
It's now three days later and my bottom is still sore to sit on. I believe Pam gave me a punishment spanking as 'maintenance' as I hadn't been spanked for while as Pam had been sick, so I'd missed a couple...

How I'm Spanked

I've written numerous accounts of my spankings from Pam, most of them only marginal embellishments of the truth, but I thought it was time to put down the factual account. And with all this time in self-isolation, I have plenty of time to blog.

Starting at the beginning, my first spanking from Pam was a punishment, which I've previously written about. However, for that spanking and those that followed for years, despite the pain I became aroused. Most of the spankings that followed right up until we were married were foreplay. Don't get that wrong. Pam enjoys spanking my bottom hard, so they were still intense. But I would become aroused, and she would rub my hot bottom whilst taking short breaks from roasting it.

During the early days of our relationship I was spanked several times a week, often triggered by Pam rubbing my bottom when we were kissing and saying, "I'm going to spank your bum tonight," knowing that would push up my arousal level up a hundred notches.

She knew I liked it, and she liked doing it.

But at this stage, I was more likely to come during a spanking than cry.

That's not to say they weren't painful. Each spanking involved a long dose of her palm, followed by a good five minutes of the wooden hairbrush, often longer with her hand and hairbrush interwoven. I certainly felt them the next day, but there were no tears, and a spanking would generally stop when I'd promise to be "extremely, extremely good", a code word of sorts. Or at least it would stop after Pam added a finale of another fifty or so hard smacks, just to make sure. There was always that strict edge.

Over time we collected more implements. A paddle, wooden spoons, and finally a cane, purchased by Pam as my Valentine's "present", for in her words, "when I was very naughty". The spankings were getting harder and longer as more implements were used.

Around the time we got married, Pam started to spank more often as punishment. These spankings were similar to a normal spanking, just longer and harder, and I'd have tears in my eyes when they ended. I've never been particularly stoic though. Even during early 'play' spankings I'd squirm and protest and end up arm-locked over Pam's lap. But we're talking about four or five hundred smacks with wooden implements here, polished off with fifty odd with the OTK cane.

Over the years we've been married, we've collected more implements online, enough that Pam has a drawer full of them (maybe a dozen different straps/spoons/brushes/canes) in her bedside table. Now when she spanks me, she just grabs a random handful of four to six implements and sets to work. Somehow the OTK cane always seems to be in that random collection ;)

A typical spanking these days is five implements, with two or three of the implements given twice if spanking for punishment. She will mix spanking with scolding and rubbing my sore bottom. There's normally no rush. Her favourite implements are the OTK cane and the wooden spoon (more like a baking spoon and quite fearsome), with the rubber paddles coming into greater play if spanking for a real offense.

The big change over the last five years is there are more spankings for punishment, and less difference between the punishment spankings and the play spankings, which have become more like a 'reminder to behave' spanking. The other difference is Pam has learnt how to make me cry, or perhaps I have learnt how to let down the barriers and cry. I'm talking actual sobbing, not just wet eyes, and Pam certainly enjoys making sure I've been properly punished. Sometimes I'm literally crying my eyes out by the time my wife is satisfied.

Here's my notes from a punishment spanking from last year - six sets of spanking.

• Oct 14th (messy kitchen): 1 x hairbrush, 2 x otk cane, 1 x black rubber paddle, 2 x wooden spoon

Although I don't enjoy these punishment spankings during the event and try to avoid one for some time afterwards, they are the ones I find most erotic. Afterwards, with a sore bottom for at least two days, I get excited replaying how strict Pam was and imaging myself over her lap getting my just desserts again.

If I'm warned in advance of a looming spanking, the nervous anticipation builds, a mix of excitement and dread. But if she wasn't super strict and giving me 'real' spankings, that same level of excitement wouldn't be there. It's my wife's strictness that makes it arousing.

And soon, despite knowing how much it will hurt, I'm craving another one. But harder this time, at least I tell myself that until I'm over her lap again.

That's a long winded explanation of why I bought Pam the 'Cry Baby' rubber paddle, knowing the pain would be excruciating, knowing it would leave me howling over her lap, but knowing I'd experience the intimacy and sense of atonement that comes from a real 'to tears' spanking, and for a spanko, savouring the incomparable gratitude of being married to a strict wife who spanks and spanks hard.

The Messy Kitchen (F/M spanking story, real-life)

I walked into the war zone that was the kitchen: dirty plates upon dirty plates, crumbs carpeting the bench top, discarded cartons a diorama next to the sink. The boys were meant to clean the kitchen each night after dinner, but they had disappeared an hour ago when the Internet lock kicked in. Ostensibly, I was ultimately responsible for the kitchen's cleanliness - it was on the list of tasks on the iPhone app Shared Lists that I was meant to complete.

If the boys didn't clean the kitchen, it was up to me... or else.

But I hadn't been spanked in months. Lately, even when I'd clearly not completed my tasks, Pam would complain about being left with the task. But instead of my bottom suffering the consequences, she would do the job herself. With no consequences to worry about, I sighed and went back to my computer. Pam wouldn't be home for hours. There was plenty of time to clean the kitchen, or not...

Back at my computer, I struggled to concentrate. Not so long ago Pam didn't need to try hard to find a reason to spank me. I'd even tried pushing her deliberately a couple of times, a dangerous game, but that hadn't left me with a sore bottom either.

I was un-spanked, and I really didn't think either of us were happy about it. If she followed through, Pam could have anything she wanted: chores, neck massages, cleaning, orgasms, sleep-ins. All she had to do is add the items to my "todo" list and enforce them with her chest full of implements, like she had started to a couple of years ago. And after a trip over Pam's lap it was impossible to get her out of my mind for days, especially when I usually couldn't sit comfortably for days!

Knowing I was part of the problem and yet still feeling frustrated, I went into the kitchen, added a dirty coffee mug to the mess, and went to bed.

***

It was nearly midnight when Pam returned home from the movies with her girlfriend Helen. She flicked on the lights as she moved through the darkened house, at last reaching the kitchen.

"Ducking hell," Pam cried aloud, taking in the mess on benches that had been clean when she left. "I'm sick of coming home to a pigsty." She stood staring in disbelief, taking in the details.

Finally, shaking her head, Pam went to the bathroom to change for bed. Clearly, the current arrangement of relying on their sons to clean the kitchen wasn't working. To be truthful, it had never worked. Not even turning off the Internet delivered a consistent performance. Overall responsibility needed to go back to her husband. He could use the damn dishwasher if he wanted, but since she did the cooking, her husband could make sure she didn't have to clean up first.

Resolving to nip the problem in the butt, she steeled herself into "Strict Wife" mode and slipped into the darkened bedroom she shared with her husband.

***

Although going to bed an hour earlier, I was awake when Pam came in the front door. I had lain staring at the ceiling, wondering at my wife's likely reaction when she saw the kitchen. What would she do? Probably just clean it up before going to bed, though my mind wandered to alternatives both arousing and fearful.

I listened intently as Pam reached the kitchen. Her reaction was unexpectedly loud and cross, easily heard from our nearby bedroom. Gulp! Maybe I should have cleaned it up at least a tiny bit…

A few minutes later Pam entered the dark room. I was lying on my side facing away from her, thinking it wise to be "asleep" after the kitchen reaction. It didn't work. Pam laid down beside me and immediately shuffled over to spoon from behind, draping an arm over my hip.

"I know you're awake," she said.

"Barely. Did you enjoy the movie?"

"Hmm," Pam said. "Well, it was great. Really funny. Not so great was the mess I came home to in the kitchen."

"Didn't the boys clean it?"

"You know damn well they didn't. I didn't even eat here tonight, so none of it is mine."

"I did tell them - twice - they mustn't have gotten around to it. Too busy with gaming, I suppose."

"You're responsible for the kitchen. Remember? So if you can't get them moving, do it yourself before coming to bed." Her hand dropped down to my bottom and squeezed it. "Do you understand your wife?"

I swallowed, understanding her intent and slipping into an obedient mode. "Yes, Ma'am."

"And are you going to obey your wife, like the wise paddle says?" Pam asked, referring to her wooden paddle with 'Obey Your Wife' engraved into it.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good," Pam said. "It's too late to deal with this now, but tomorrow you are to clean the kitchen as soon as you get home. Then I want you naked and waiting for me in the corner at 9:45pm. I will deal with you once the boys are asleep. Got it?"

By now my penis was rising with nervous excitement. "Yes, Ma'am."

"You'd better. You are going to get it super hard tomorrow night. You have all day tomorrow to think about all that crying you're going to do over my lap while you're getting your bottom blistered beet red. Things are going to change around here. Now kiss me and let's get to sleep."

There wasn't much sleeping that night, at least not for me, wondering whether that dirty coffee mug was the icing on the red cake my wife was going to bake tomorrow night.

***

I was nervous about my impending spanking all day, but the nerves really set in after dinner, looking at the clock, counting down the hours until I'd be over Pam's lap. Two. Have a shower, iron a shirt for tomorrow. One. Make sure the damn kitchen is clean! Get ready for bed. Pam hadn't said anything, so I wasn't sure she was going to follow through.

As ordered, come 9:45pm I was naked and standing in the corner waiting for Pam. The boys were still roaming the house in search of more food, so Pam didn't come in for another ten minutes. She sat on the bed, waiting for all activity in the house to cease. I noted that she'd put clothes into the washing machine down the hall as cover for noisy activities...

"Good," Pam said, finally addressing me at around quarter past ten. "Everyone is asleep, so it's our turn to make some noise. Come here and get your just desserts." While I moved to the bed, Pam grabbed a handful of implements from her collection and put them on the bed beside her. From my angle, I couldn't see what they were.

I laid over my lovely wife's lap, though found my legs hanging over the side of the bed. "Can you please move a little to your left?" I asked.

"Isn't it me who should be giving orders?" Pam said, though she moved so I could fit entirely over her lap. She gave me a pillow to hold on to, then started rubbing my bottom. "Get comfortable. We could be here for a while."

Almost immediately Pam started warming up my bottom with her hand, crisp slaps that as I hadn't been spanked in a while stuck from the start. She didn't spank as hard as sometimes, but that was more for keeping the noise down rather than from any concern for my bottom. After leaving my bottom red and hot to touch, she switched to her heavy wooden spoon and began roasting my bottom in earnest, peppering my bare cheeks with the thick wood, one side then the other.

"Are you going to be better behaved in future?" she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry."

"Not yet you're aren't."

After a few dozen more with the spoon, Pam thought she heard a noise in the house (only healthy paranoia thankfully) and switched to our OTK-sized cane. This was far from a respite for my poor bottom. The cane cut the air as it brought hot lines down upon my bottom, my wife giving a couple of strokes at a time intermingled with scolding.

"To think, after a long day at school - my first day back from holidays - and I have to come home and deal with you. Lots of naughty students all day, but the naughtiest one of all is you, over my lap and getting the cane!"

"Sorry, Ma'am," was I was allowed to respond with.

After leaving my bottom crossed with red lines, Pam picked up the dreaded black rubber paddle. "I like this one," she said. "Super stingy." Sure enough, she started demonstrating how stingy it is. I cried out with each smack, starting with "ow's", but becoming more desperate as the rubber left searing rectangles over my bare bottom. Tears were forming in my eyes.

"Don't think I'm going to stop just because it's starting to hurt," Pam said, in a stern voice.

"No, Ma'am. I'm so sorry."

Talking was difficult now as my crying intensified. There was no point asking for clemency and I never did - none would be coming regardless. Pam was giving me exactly what I deserved. At some point she had switched to a wooden hairbrush, though once my bottom gets to a certain tenderness anything stings like crazy. Certainly she was using enough wooden implements that I'd be feeling it at work the next day.

"Are you going to be a better husband?" Pam asked. "Because you've been particularly unhelpful lately."

"Yes, I will. I promise."

After about fifty or sixty with the brush, Pam put the hairbrush down and added a couple of dozen "bonus" stripes from her cane. She switched back to the wooden spoon for the finale.

"This is such a good implement for correcting naughty boys, nice and thick," she said.

With that she resumed spanking, harder now, determined to leave a strong impression on her errant husband. I was squirming under the blows, to the point of throwing a hand back in self-protection. Pam merely pinned it behind my back and continued without missing a single smack.

"I want that kitchen spotless. Every night."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And what's going to happen if it isn't?"

"My wife will spank me."

"Yes, I will. Hard."

For the next few minutes Pam set out to show me precisely how hard. She brought that thick wooden spoon down with considerable expertise and even greater determination. Anyone watching or listening to the hard smacks would have winced, but the impact on me was far greater. Under those searing smacks I was crying freely, tears in my eyes, chewing my bottom lip,  sniffling and sobbing between spanks. There was no escaping my loving wife's discipline.

Finally, with my bottom ablaze, the spanking stopped. "My shoulder is beginning to hurt," Pam said. "That's enough for this time."

Dimly, through my sniffles, I couldn't help thinking that my bottom hurt a lot more than my wife's shoulder!

Pam let me up. We cuddled and kissed for a time. "Thank you," I whispered in her ear, meaning it too. We resumed kissing, more passionately, until we were making out like teenagers.

I was more aroused than I'd been in a long time, but it was Pam who deserved pleasuring. I laid underneath her as she climbed over my face, straddling my mouth with her steaming wet pussy. Pam had given me a spanking; now it was my turn to give her an orgasm!

***

It is now the day after this spanking. I am sitting on a sore, blistered bottom while posting the account to my blog :)

First Spanking for 2019

It was 2am and despite a long day in the summer sun, I could not sleep. Pam lay beside me, sleeping soundly, unaware I was still awake. But no matter how I tried, I couldn't get the thought her spanking me out of my head, along with an unrelenting arousal at the thought. For a number of reasons, I hadn't been over my wife's lap since October 28th, far too long, and despite getting tardier on a number of my chores, my bottom had gone unpunished.

To make matters worse, we'd been shopping earlier that day at the local two-dollar shop and I'd spotted a sturdy looking clothes brush. Pam hadn't even glanced in its direction, but since then all I could think of was a sound trip over her lap, the new brush in her hand, its wooden surface blistering my bottom as a reminder to be a better husband.

All the while Pam was spanking me, she was repeating the lines she had used in recent spankings:

'A headmistress would give you six of the best. I'm going to give you six on each cheek.'

'It was really rude how you spoke to me this morning. You're going to get it Super Hard now.'

'I'm still annoyed just talking about it. Clearly, I'm not done with you.'

At least in my head she was, over and over, until finally I fell asleep, only to wake again every hour after that...

***

Two days later, Pam left to see a movie with her friend Helen, so I had the house to myself. At first I'd been just chilling in front of Netflix, but after a while the thought of Pam in 'strict wife' mode flashed back into my head. Earlier that day she had patted my bottom a couple of times, lightly but suggestively, and it had stoked the fire. While Pam was shopping, I'd rushed off and bought the clothes brush. It now lay at the top of her implement pile.

I decided to open my blog and write a new fantasy story about her to scratch my itch. Naturally, I got distracted (and aroused) reading the old posts and stories. Then I made another mistake - I lost track of time, thinking Pam and Helen would probably go for meal or drink after the movie. I left my browser open on the Pam Spanks her Husband blog and went to the bathroom.

I returned to find Pam standing next to my computer. She raised her eyebrows. "I notice the dishes are still in the sink, the lounge room a mess, and yet somehow you've managed to find the time for smutty entertainment. Go wait for me in the bedroom. I'll be there shortly to deal with you. Find the cane too, I'll be needing that."

As ordered, I waited for Pam in our bedroom, nervous and naked. I'd found the cane and naughty stick and left them under her pillow. The rest of her implements were in a drawer of her bedside table. Pam had gone to shower, so I was left to stew... and wonder if she was actually mad. I had wanted this, needed it, but a spanking from Pam is always long and hard, often hard enough to have me in tears. Whether she was mad or not, I'd be sitting uncomfortably tomorrow...

"Excellent," Pam said, entering the room. "My naughty boy is in the corner. Come lie over my lap so I can blister your bottom good and proper.”

*** Epilogue ***

So here I am, sitting on a sore bottom after last night’s spanking from Pam, the first for 2019. She gave the finale with the new brush, one hundred hard ones, and I can see the blisters in the mirror today. Of course, she also used the wooden spoon, ruler paddle, “Obey Your Wife” heavy paddle, and gave me two doses of the cane. I was over her lap for a good twenty minutes and quite tearful by the time Pam finished. 

By the end I was promising to be good, extremely good, but I can’t see that lasting long!

***

Note: the first half of this story is exactly what happened, but instead of being caught with the blog open, I printed out the story and left it for Pam to find when she was getting ready for bed.

The Boxes and the Wooden Paddle

It was a simple enough request. We were moving house and I'd just transferred a load of boxes to the new house, choosing my wife's larger car. My wife had asked me to make sure I took the boxes out before she drove the car to our son's soccer game in the morning.

But I was tired and there were hours to get the chore done and yeah, well, I'm sure there were other great reasons. I took a couple of boxes out and then promptly forgot about the boxes crammed into the car. Next morning my wife got up early and took my son to his soccer game while I looked after our daughter. The boxes were so far out of my mind by now that I didn't remember them until Pam returned.

"You did not take the boxes out of the car," she said. "I was not impressed." The last she said with that look and tone that made me realise a trip over my wife's lap may be in my near future.

"Oh," I said, suddenly remembering. "Did you get the boys to help?"

"No, it was quicker to do it myself," Pam said. "We missed the start of the game by five minutes." The glare followed. That glare.

I was definitely in for it. It was hard to think of good arguments in my favour. I hadn't done it simply because I'd been too lazy the night before to do it right away.

***

The tumult of the move and an overnight visitor at our new home provided a stay of execution. It wasn't until Sunday night that my wife had a chance to demonstrate her displeasure.

The house was quiet and my wife came into the bedroom. "I hope you have prepared some implements for me to use."

I swallowed. "Ah, they're unpacked and in your drawer." I had done this before the 'great box incident'.

Pam briefly rummaged around in the drawer for a moment, though in the dark I'm not sure whether her selection was random or by design. We then shared a brief cuddle before my spanking, with me apologising for my actions and Pam reiterating her annoyance.

"I was not happy," she said.

"Did you think about it at the time," I asked, wondering if she had realised I needed to be punished.

"Definitely," Pam said. "But I've been so busy."

I soon found myself bare bottomed over my lovely wife's lap. She didn't start smacking straight away, taking the time to repeat how inconsiderate I'd been, how I'd caused her a lot of stress trying to get to the game on time. I could only agree that I deserved every smack she thought I had coming.
Pam's spanking began. We were yet to install the new soundproof doors we had on order, so the hand spanks were lighter than usual, though they still smarted. Tonight Pam was being particularly vocal in her scolding, an ominous sign.

Her hand rained down. "I am being considerate and warming up your bottom," she said, "unlike my inconsiderate husband."

The warm-up was soon over. My bottom stung, but the heat was nothing like the temperature it was about to reach. Pam grabbed an implement and rubbed it against my bottom. I knew what it was at once - the horribly stingy black paddle. It doesn't leave a lasting impact, but stings like a million bees in Pam's hand.

"That's a better reaction," Pam said, after the first smack provided an "ow". After a couple more smacks, Pam stopped to adjust her position. "I need to move the pillows so I can get a better swing."
The spanking continued - the "better swing" working only too well. Soon I was squirming, but there was no avoiding that horrible black paddle.

"I'm getting rid of some of that frustration," Pam said.

My communication skills were limited to "Sorry" and "Ow".

Pam switched to her thick wooden spoon. She started slowly, but soon had me writhing trying to avoid the smacks. "I think you're going to feel this on the train tomorrow," she said, continuing to scold as the spoon fell. "This new room is nice and sound proof. Think how hard I'm going to be able to spank you. You'll be the best behaved husband ever, and I will be very well rested." (*)

 I was now really feeling my wife's spanking and promising to behave better in future. This had, as usual, limited effect.

"Did you hear Helen say she might sleep over tonight," Pam said, pausing briefly. "I was thinking how is that going to work? I have a naughty husband who needs to be punished."

After about two dozen hard and fast smacks with the spoon, my wife put it down and picked up her new "Obey your wife" paddle. "This paddle weighs a tonne," she said, rubbing it over my bottom. "You're really going to feel this. You need to show your wife more respect and consideration."

Then the paddling started. It was hard and fast and unbearably painful. My bottom, already tender from my wife's efforts, was an inferno. Within a dozen or so smacks I had tears in my eyes.

Pam paused for a moment. "What should you have done?"

I was sobbing softly. "Obeyed my wife and got the boxes."

"That's right," she said.

That thick wooden paddle slammed into my blistered cheeks, again and again on what felt like the same spot. Pam was clearly upset tonight and let me have it about two dozen more times rapid fire until I was crying softly.

"I think maybe you've learned your lesson," she said.

The paddle was put aside and Pam rubbed my bottom until I calmed down. Then it was time for hugs and kisses. It was a sound lesson I felt for the next two days, though afterwards we both agreed it was well-deserved.

(*) When I'm spanked, my wife earns a long sleep in the next day.

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."

Remember to Behave

It was the eve of my business trip overseas and I was snuggling up to Pam hoping for a little 'action' before my two weeks away. Pam turned and pressed herself against me and for a long while we kissed passionately.

She leaned back and looked at me. "I'm going to miss you."

"Me too."

Her eyes sparkled. "You had better behave yourself on this trip."

"I will."

"You'd better." Her hand dropped down to my bottom and squeezed. "Do you think you a reminder would help?"

Instantly my pulse jumped with nervous excitement. Other things may also have jumped. "Ah... I don't know."

Pam's hand kept moving, teasing. "Luckily I do. A sore bottom will remind you to behave. Won't it dear?"

"Um...maybe."

"Only maybe? Then I'll have to make sure it is a very, very sore bottom indeed." She sat up. "Take your boxers off while I find some things to teach you a good lesson." She turned and started fumbling through her chest of drawers beside the bed where oh so many painful implements were stowed.

In about, oh, twenty seconds, I found myself bare-bottomed over my wife's lovely lap. Pam rubbed and teased only briefly before beginning a sound hand spanking that soon had me squirming. After a long warmup with her hand, Pam switched to a heavy wooden spoon, blistering the underside of my cheeks with sharp volleys. My begs and pleads and promises to be good overseas fell on deaf ears and that wicked spoon burned up my bottom.

"You'll remember this sitting on that long plane ride," Pam said, stopping only to switch to her hairbrush. "Hopefully for a lot longer. A week would be good."

"Yes Ma'am," I whimpered. "I'll be good."

"Extremely good by the time we're done."

And then the brush came, hard and fast and long.
And then the tears and sobbing and promises came thick.

And then whilst I could not sit comfortably for the next four days, and squirmed in my seat for the longhaul flight... I was extremely, extremely good.

Not Bossy at all

Pam gave me a punishment spanking last night, though my troubles began over a month ago. Pam and her best friend Helen were talking in the kitchen. Helen was giving Pam a hard time about being bossy sometimes, while I tried my best to stay out of it. Pam was taking offense, and Helen looked to me for confirmation.

Foolishly, I said something along the lines of "Yeah, Pam is pretty bossy." Now despite what you might think from this blog, that's a gross exaggeration. I didn't notice at the time, but Pam was hurt by the comment and for my lack of support in front of her friend.

A couple of days ago I found out by accident when it was mentioned in passing and that Pam had been hurt by the comment. I indicated she should have let me know...

Well last night she let me know in no uncertain terms. I was made to bend over on all fours while Pam spanked me thoroughly. After a brief warm-up with her hand, she gave me at least one hundred smacks with a small hairbrush. But Pam wasn't finished. She moved onto a larger hairbrush, repeating the treatment, enjoying the feel of this one even more.  Most of the hairbrush smacks were directed to the bottom half of my bottom. Even at the time, I knew I'd struggle to sit for days.

By now my bottom was already very sore. But Pam wasn't finished. She reached into her drawer for another implement, pulling out a Scottish spanking strap I'd procured from ebay a few months ago, but it had seen no use until now. It will get a lot more use. Pam really liked the strap and gave me over hundred strokes of it. Tears had started formed in my eyes by the time she was done, and I was giving what I thought were sincere apologies, though they fell on deaf ears.

But Pam wasn't finished. She said that since the incident had occurred in the kitchen, it was only fitting to get the wooden spoon, just to make sure I was really sorry. She used one of the more painful spoons with a small head but fashioned from an unforgiving wood. After about thirty smacks I was crying softly, promising never to call her bossy again and to be more supportive in front of her friends. That didn't end the spanking straight away. Whilst I cried, I received a few dozen more with the spoon, then a short finale with Pam's hand. It was the most I'd cried from a spanking, but the tears were from her comments while she disciplined me as well as the hard smacks.

Then it was cuddles and kisses while I thanked Pam for the discipline and told her how much I loved her.

It was one of the few times I've been spanked for a real offense, and punished thoroughly too. I certainly deserved it and was squirming on my chair all day at work today.

I think I'm going to be in trouble next time I upset Pam though.  She confided today that she liked how the spanking made me cry, though I'd rather a hard spanking than let issues simmer between us, which is far worse than fixing it quickly with a sore bottom and some tears.

The Wife with the Wooden Hairbrush

This story is fairly close to what happened on our wedding night. Yes, Pam really did pack her hairbrush :)

##

The black limousine pulled away from the quay. Our friends waved us off with knowing smiles, though I doubt any of them could have guessed what would transpire over the next few hours. I placed my hand on my new wife's thigh, and she smiled at me.

 "Everyone had a great time," Pam said, "don't you think?"

"Well they drank enough that they were certainly having a good time by the end."

We laughed together. Pam put her hand on top of mine.


#

We reached the honeymoon suite. Roses and a bottle of French champagne on ice waited for us, though to be honest, getting my lovely new wife into the bed was far more appealing. But I put my carnal desires away for the moment and poured a couple of glasses. We sipped and we smiled and we made small talk about our big day. The weather, which had threatened rain earlier, had cleared to blue sunshine. The ceremony had gone off without either of us stuffing our lines, and the harbour cruise with friends and family under the stars had been the perfect end. But it was not the end. The evening, the more private entertainment was about to begin.

I put my glass down and took my wife in my arms. We kissed, gently at first, then more urgently.
"You looked gorgeous today," I said. "Stunning."

Pam kissed me. Then she put her hands onto my suit collar. "You know," she said, "you rocked this suit too, husband."

We resumed kissing, breath quickening. My jacket found its way to the floor, followed by my shirt and pants. Pam's dress took longer, a complex contraption of zips and buttons and insane twists of lace that seemed designed to hamper removal.  But underneath, below the cream bejewelled dream, she wore something much sexier - a white lace teddy, her lovely legs enclosed in suspenders. My hands began to research this wonderful gift life had granted me.

One of her hands found my buttocks. She squeezed, something that never failed to further arouse me. "Hold on cowboy," she said. "It wouldn't be right if I didn't spank you on our wedding night."

"I suppose not," I said, though I smiled, looking forward to a sexy trip over my wife's lap.

Pam sat on the edge of the bed and tapped her thigh. I knew the drill. I shuffled to her side. She lowered my boxers, ran a teasing hand over my bulging erection, then guided me over her lap. She did not begin spanking straight away. She rubbed her hand all over my bottom.

I looked back up at her from my prone position. "Are you going to be a strict wife?" I asked.

"Very," Pam said.

The first stinging smack rained down. Loud slaps echoed through the room. Quickly the intensity of the spanking increased and soon I was getting what all naughty boys deserve, a sound spanking, my new wife's supple wrist delivering a stream of steady but firm spanks. I began to squirm, unable to hold still under Pam's strict palm.  Dimly I thought that this was a little harder than I'd expected, without any rubbing or respite. The spanking didn't stop, or diminish, rather it got harder, covering my entire bottom but focused on where I'd be sitting, or probably not sitting, tomorrow.

"Ow," I cried out for the first time.

Pam chuckled, "I've barely started." But she didn't miss a beat. My squirming and protestations grew as my backside turned redder. Soon I was gasping and flinching.  Pam stopped briefly to tug me tighter against her, but resumed at once. I imagined her long blonde hair swinging across her face as she disciplined me, her hand rising up to her shoulder, the crisp noisy spanks surely heard in adjoining rooms.

Pam stopped, running her fingers over my hot bottom, bringing the relief I'd hoped for. "You can get up now," she said.

I stood up, a trifle gingerly. I gave my stinging bottom a quick rub, until I realised I hadn't asked for permission and put my hands back at my side.

"My hairbrush is in my overnight bag. Be a dear and fetch it for me."

"You brought your hairbrush?"

"Of course. I planned every last detail, including your spanking. I intend to give you a good one. Now back over."

I found Pam's hairbrush - a thick wooden affair I'd felt on many occasions - and lay over my wife's lap.

The brush slammed into my cheeks. Pam brought the brush down again and again, determined to make this first spanking as my wife a memorable one. By now I was bucking and writhing, making the pointless side to side squirm of every naughty boy trying to avoid a sound and well deserved spanking, and finding he cannot avoid it, squirms anyway. But though this was the first spanking I'd received from my wife, it was far from the first spanking Pam had given me. She peppered away, burning and scalding and blistering my bare cheeks, using the skills she'd honed from years as my girlfriend, knowing to concentrate on my sit spot, knowing to give several in a row on the same spot, and most of all, knowing to ignore my pleas and promises. No, Pam was no longer the unsure girl of eighteen I'd met; she was strong-willed, firm, and knew naughty boys could only be cured by roasting their bottom to a flaming scarlet.

By now I was begging for mercy, promising to be good for all eternity. Pam had none of it and reapplied the hairbrush until every scrap of my bottom was red and blistered.  I clutched her ankle with one hand and held on, but when the spanking did not stop, nor the pain lessen, I flung my hand back to cover my bottom, almost relieved when Pam grabbed my wrist and pinned me down, for even though I knew it might earn extras, I could not lie still under her hairbrush.

She paused. "I'm starting this marriage on a good footing. You'll get this whenever you are grumpy, lazy, or give me attitude. I want you attentive and obedient."

"Yes, Ma'am," I replied, my voice quivering.

Then came the finale, three dozen shearing strokes of the brush, turning my bottom an even shade of bright red, peppered with scarlet-red dots. I promised to be the best behaved husband on the planet, a model citizen of the universe, but Pam ignored my tearful pleas and gave me every last smack.

At last, Pam let me up. We hugged and she held me for a long time.  "You'll be good now, won't you?"

"Yes Ma'am," I said. After a moment, feeling the familiar closeness and atonement that follows a sound spanking, I kissed her softly. "Thank you."

"I can think of better ways you can thank me," she said, pulling me down to the bed beside her.