By: Measha Stone
© 2009

The evening was coming to a close. Each child was nestled safely in their beds, the dishes were tucked away nicely in the washer awaiting their evening wash cycle to begin, and the laptop was shut down and back on it’s shelf.

Melanie brushed her hair and teeth and made one more sweep of the living room before going to find her husband and say good-night. She found him leaning over the sink in the washroom examining his cheeks. She smiled over the face he was making as he stretched out his cheek to look for any blemishes. He was perfect to her but he performed the same routine each night.

“Go upstairs and pick something out for tonight,” he stated as he looked at her through the mirror. She pushed off the door frame and looked at him with confusion in her eyes. “For your punishment tonight,” he added when she didn’t move.


“And, I wouldn’t suggest bringing me a feather or any other crap like that,” he half smiled at her. She sighed heavily and decided not to argue with him. He was being serious and there was no talking her way out of the situation. He had told her what to expect that night.

She had known he was upset with her earlier in the evening. She had deliberately disobeyed him. She had offered to take their toddler girls shopping for nail polish and he had said no. He had not suggested that she not, he hadn’t simply said he disagreed. He had said “NO”and he had meant it. Melanie thought he was being foolish and went ahead and let the girls pick out their own color. Purple, of course, no other color would do. She had smiled when they insisted on the purple color, as they had been quite serious about it.

Her oldest daughter had proudly shown her husband the color she had picked. He glared at Melanie then, and she knew she was in for it. He patted the girls on their heads and agreed that it was a very pretty color. He had looked to Melanie who had suddenly busied herself with getting ready for her evening out and said, “We will talk about this when you get home,” and he had left it at that.

Melanie went out about her evening out with her friend. She hadn’t been out in ages and she wasn’t about to let an impending punishment ruin it for her. When she returned home he had suggested they watch a movie together. She was relieved and was more the willing to get the laptop out and bring it to the living room so they could snuggle on the couch while they watched their movie.

She should have known he wasn’t going to forget what she had done. Obedience meant a lot to him. He didn’t ask for much from her, respect and obedience. They went hand in hand, he often explained to her.

Melanie headed up to their bedroom slowly trying to think of which implement she would pick. She didn’t like picking, he had never made her pick before and she was not enjoying the situation. If she picked something too soft would he over rule her and then get something much more harsh? If she picked something too harsh would he still use it because she had chosen it?
Standing in the bedroom for a moment it came to her. Wood. She reached between the mattresses and felt around until she felt the cold wooden handle that she was looking for. She pulled it out and looked at it. It was a long wooden paddle much like ones used in fraternity houses. She took a deep breath and headed down the stairs again.

Her husband was right where she had left him. She stood in the doorway again, the paddle in hand, and she happened to see a hairbrush on the counter of the sink. She quickly swiped it up, too, thinking that it would make a great way to warm up the spanking, if he chose to.

“OK, go into the living room,” he had directed her without looking at her. She didn’t hesitate but instead hurried into the living room, wanting it all to be over with.

Their were no misconceptions in their marriage. He set certain rules and she was to obey them. If he said no to a purchase or to anything she was obey his decree. She had not this time, and had disobeyed willfully.

She laid the paddle and the brush on the little table next to the couch and sat down and waited. She wasn’t left alone long. He walked into the room and dimmed the lights.

“We are going to do something a little bit different tonight,” he announced as he stood before her. “Tonight you are going tell me how the spanking goes. You will pick what we use, how hard I use it and for how long. First, though, I want you to tell me why we are here in the first place.”

“Because I bought the polish even though you told me not, too.” she answered softly, not bringing her eyes to meet his. She felt so foolish having to relay her crime to him.

“And why is that wrong?”

“Because you said not to,” she said again.

“OK, bend over. That’s all I’m going to say, you have it from here,” he said as he stepped up to the couch. She took a deep breath and climbed onto the couch on all fours and leaned over the arm. “Pick your head up,” he said when she was staring down at the floor. She thought to tell him that he had said he wasn’t going to say anything else, but thought better of it.

“So?” he prodded when she remained silent.

“The brush,” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear her. He picked it up and bounced it off his free hand a few times before he laid his left hand on her back.

“I wont’ go harder until you tell me to,” he promised and he began to softly spank her over her pajama pants. She almost laughed at how absurdly gentle he was being but instead tried to take the situation serious.

“Harder,” she whispered and he intensified the strokes just a bit. She waited a minute then once again repeated “Harder,” and he followed her lead.

“This is all you think you deserve for disobeying me like that?” he nudged as he continued to rein down the spanks to her bottom. He was careful to cover her entire bottom evenly with the wide hairbrush.


“What about that paddle, you don’t think you deserve that?” he asked as he strengthened the swats.

Melanie let him continue with the spanking at just that strength, willing herself to ask him to use the paddle. She felt her face start to blush at the mere thought of it She put her hand up to pause the spanking and sat back on her heels for a second, pulled her PJ pants down and got back into position.

“OK..the paddle,” she chocked out and buried her face into the couch cushion.

She heard him turn and drop the brush onto the table and the paddle be picked up. She then felt the cold wood against her already warmed bottom. She tensed and waited for the first stroke, but he was true to his word. He again was slapping her bottom softly with the paddle.

“Harder,” she heard herself saying before she thought better of it. While he was concentrating on where the swats were landing she was concentrating one two things. She, first, was counting the strokes in her mind, thinking that she could take 50 strokes at each intensity. She was also thinking about why she found herself in that situation.

She didn’t agree with him about the nail polish. That didn’t matter, she was beginning to realize as he intensified the strokes at her request. It wasn’t that she didn’t agree that was the problem, the problem was that he specifically told her not to do something and she did it anyway. She knew he would be upset and that didn’t deter her from her course of action. She thought about all the times she wished he’d be more dominating, more firm with her, and here had been the perfect opportunity for her to submit to his decision and she had failed.

“Harder,” she mumbled and he brought the paddle down more firmly than before. She realized that she had blown this opportunity to be obedient but that was the beauty about spanking within their marriage. That once this spanking was over the slate was wiped clean. She would be able to have another chance to do as she’s told, to be the wife she wished to be.

Her backside was hot, the sting from each stroke only intensified the heat. She continued to count the strokes in her head and willed herself to stay in place. She again upped the strength and she forced herself to stay still for at least 25 more strokes.

Her husband covered her entire bottom. He would concentrate on her thighs for a few strokes then move up towards the thick of her bottom. When he was satisfied with that level of redness he moved a bit higher and then began all over again, in his routine. She was beginning to wiggle a bit and he had placed a calm hand on the small of her back to soothe her.

He had know this would be a hard punishment for her. She was in control of it but he knew that she was always harder on herself then he was. He was already satisfied that she had learned her lesson but he would not stop the spanking until she asked him to.

He had not long to wait, after a few more strokes at the harshest strokes she put her hand in the air and called an end to the spanking. He dropped the paddle to his side and just looked at her. She was laying over the arm of the couch catching her breath.

“I’m sorry,” she softly said before leaning back again on her heels.

“What?” he asked as he reached out to her and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, he was relieved to see that she wasn’t crying.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bought the polish. I should have done what you said, whether or not I agree isn’t the issue,” she explained as she gently ran her hand over her very sore bottom.

“That’s right,” he smiled down at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said again and chanced a look up at him. He was so sincere in his smile, Such warmth was in his eyes as he nodded.

“It’s OK. All over now. Up to bed with you….the punishment is over…but we still have some things to do..” he wiggled his eyebrows and she giggled slightly and took only a moment to jump off the couch and run up the stairs… her PJ pants were left behind…..

%d bloggers like this: