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.

Happy New Year

Happy new year everyone - I hope you got the spankings you deserved in 2018, and that you're going to be even naughtier in 2019 :)

Unfortunately, whilst there were some spankings in our house last year, there were not as many as previous years. And it wasn't because I didn't deserve them, but because we now have teenagers in the house. They stay up way too late, even with Internet shutdown times :( Seems it will be a lean couple of years until they are old enough to have jobs, university, or pubs to go to.

Of course, I could suggest to Pam that she just uses the cane... but ouch lol ;)

Happy Holidays & Spankings

I hope everyone had a great holiday break.

In our house both Pam and I are on several weeks leave, Pam getting a huge six weeks as a school teacher over the summer break down here.

This has resulted in renewed energy... and more spankings ;)  Pam has told me to expect a sore bottom for the holidays as she had been too tired and neglecting it a bit.

So far this has resulted in four trips over my wife's lap:

1. a warning before my parents arrived for a few days
2. a spanking for failing to fill up the dog's water bowl on a hot day (it's really her dog, but I am responsible for feeding it).
3. a spanking for forgetting to put the potatoes in the oven when it was the last thing my wife said before leaving the house.
4. and finally a proper punishment spanking for a rude comment that hurt Pam's feelings.

One of these was a catch-up spanking for an offense several weeks earlier.
The most recent of these was last night, which included a long dose of the naughty stick (buy one here) and my wife's favourite paddle (cherry paddle). The description for the cherry paddle says get ready for screams and tears... well there may not have been screams, but there were certainly tears.

And I'm struggling to sit and type this now :)

I calculated this morning that Pam and I have been together for over twenty years. That's a lot of spankings considering I received my first from her less than a year into our relationship.

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.