Nov 272012

You’ll enjoy this entry for the Spooky Spanking Story Contest. Thanks again to all the participants, this month and every day.

–  Dana


She said that she was not going to conclude either of our punishment spankings until she felt we were truly sorry and committed to changing our bad behavior. We had both accepted her terms and she patiently explained that she would administered real spankings to our bare bottoms. Spankings that we both deserved. The spankings would appropriately fit our wrongdoings as she saw fit. She would decide what implements she used on us, the positions, and length of the spankings. We would address her as ma’am and tell the truth. These were her terms and I still couldn’t believe this was happening.

More than an hour ago my college room mate and I were making our way through the 33rd and 8th Ave side of Penn Station on our way to an exclusive Halloween party on Long Island. Slung over my shoulder was a back pack holding a change of clothes, a rubber devil’s mask and a bottle of cheap vodka. Jon’s backpack held a change of clothes, a Beast mask and a carton of jumbo size country fresh eggs. The party was being held at someone’s country mansion and the women who invited us insisted that we come. Jon had meet her through some friends at his work and she had sent us directions in an email. We were to give her a call when we get off the train and someone would pick us up.
The forty four mile train ride is long and boring. To pass the time we begin sneaking sips from the vodka bottle in my back pack. I didn’t realize how light the bottle was getting until I hear a recording announce the stop that the women has told us to get off at. The station is deserted and the desolate country surroundings sober us up. We are definitely not in the city anymore. Jon tries her number but the call goes straight to voice mail. I try texting her but get no reply. The air is very cool for October and I chuck the vodka bottle into a trash can. Jon figures the party must be near the station somewhere and he thinks we should start trick or treating our way towards some lights in the distance. We put our masks on and before walking away from the train station Jon tosses one of the jumbo eggs straight up and directly over the windshield of an SUV in the parking lot.
The black top we are on turns into a country dirt road and the lights of houses seem to be moving further away from us instead of getting closer. Its hard to see through the devil mask but I can see that stars are visible in the sky. I am also making out the shapes of trees and bushes along the sides of the narrowing dirt path. We are periodically tossing eggs at darkened houses as we pass in front of them. The homes are getting further apart and the silhouette of a larger house is becoming visible in the distance. As we continue walking in the direction of the pointed eves of the roof I can see dim lights on behind shaded windows. For some reason I become hopeful that someone is home and I start to think that this must be the party house.
Jon gets the idea to see if he can look through a window before knocking on the door. The light from the window is faintly shinning on the leaf covered lawn and I think I can see movement inside the living room. What I don’t see is the aluminum trash cans that Jon and I trip over. A flood light immediately turns on as Jon and I fall to the ground tripping over each other and the barrels. The carton of eggs is smashed and smeared over Jon’s jacket. A women is now standing on the stairs to a back porch and looking down at us. She is holding a cell phone and threatening to call the police. She looks to be about ten years older than we are and she doesn’t look scared in the least. I try to explain our predicament but she isn’t buying it. She thinks we are throwing eggs or stealing or something. Her pumpkins have been smashed and she has had trouble on Halloween in the past. She is still threatening to call the police and for some reason I am still lying on the ground trying to reason with her. Maybe I am getting through to her because she is making her way down the porch stairs and heading closer to us. Her phone is still in her hand and she looks ready to use it.
We both are begging for her not to call the police. At this point we both realize that if we could run away where would we go? The police would surely find us and how could we explain any of this anyway? She sees the broken eggs splattered on Jon’s jacket and the open cardboard carton on the ground. She has a police style flash light in her other hand that I hadn’t noticed before and she is shinning it into our faces. She looks at each of us one at a time with out speaking for a long time. When she finally talks to us again she says she works as a security guard and that she knows that vandalism, trespassing and public intoxication are serious crimes. She also tells us that she is good friends with every police officer in the town and they would only be to happy to lock us up for the night if she were to give them a call. She says that we both deserve spankings and She wants to know if we will accept her form of punishment. If we do she will not call the police and we can go back to the city.
We both agree. The next thing she does is ask for our wallets, back packs and cell phones. She then reads off our names and where we are from on our licenses. She also finds our college Ids. Then she tells us to come into her kitchen while she begins to explain the details of our punishments. Once inside we are to remove our sneakers while she calls us by name and begins to lecture us for our bad behavior. We are to address her as ma’am. She explains that she won’t stop until she determines that we are truly sorry for our unsuitable behavior. She asks again if we understand and agree to her terms and we both give her a quite, yes ma’am. We art told to face the wall and drop our draws. I am hesitant and she says boxer shorts too. We are facing the wall while she is getting ready. At this point I am freaking out but also intrigued. I have never been in a situation like this before. She tells us that she wants us to think about what has led us to this position. She also promises that we are about to be made very sore.
Jon is first and I heard her tell him to get over her knee. She is lecturing him and I can hear the slap of his ass under the palm of her hand. He answers lecturing saying, yes ma’am to everything she has to say to him. The sound of Jon’s ass getting spanked gets louder and he also sounds more out of breath with each yes ma’am like it is getting more and more difficult to find the words. My heart is racing imagining what is to come for my self. After a while Jon is sent back to the corner again and it is my turn. She lectures me in the same way and my ass quickly becomes sensitive. My head fells light over her knee and my arms are getting cramped. I have stepped completely out of my pants and feel very vulnerable. It is also weird to have Jon as a witness to this as I had been his witness, hearing everything he was going through and now it is my turn. If I am not quick enough with my, “yes ma’am” she hits the same soft spot on my ass repeatedly with something that fells like a wide wooden spoon. The sting really hurts and I think I am losing my composure more than Jon had.
Next I am sent back to the corner and made to stand with my ass exposed next to Jon‘s exposed ass. Both of our noses are touching the wall. We are left standing like that for sometime and occasionally she addresses us and we answer her. She is now taking two kitchen chairs and putting them side by side in the middle of the room. She then tells us to bend over the backs with our palms flat on the seat of the chairs. She says she is going to use the strap on us this time. The noise is much louder and the sting is more abrupt. Her lecturing is more forceful and our reply had better be loud and clear. My eyes start to tear up a little and my voice is wavering. This goes on for what seems like an hour and my legs are tight with tension. When this is over she sends us back to the corner.

It was quiet for sometime and we can hear her writing something. When she speaks again she says she had put our names, addresses and phone numbers in her magic book. She says that she would like to place photos of our punished red asses with our written apologies and signatures in her mysterious book. We booth agree with a quite, “yes ma’am.” She snaps off some quick digital shots of our red behinds and prints them out in the next room while we are writing our apologies in her mysterious book. She makes us sit on the hard wooden chairs that we have just been bent over. The wood against my throbbing ass is very uncomfortable. We are made to read aloud what we have written and she asks us if we know why her book is magical. Neither of us want to venture a guess and she explains that her mysterious book changes peoples lives. She then randomly flips through the pages of the book stopping at different places to show us the apologies, confessions and snap shots of a few other bad boys and girls she has disciplined.
We are both sent to the corner once again and we both spend one more session over her knee and another strapping before she is satisfied that we have truly learned our lessons. My ass is swollen and bruised for several days and this is one Halloween that I will never forget. A real lesson learned.
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Jun 222011

This is the second part of ‘The Wedding Gift’, submitted by The Very Bad Boy. As you know, he is no stranger to punishment, so it comes as no surprise that he writes so well on the subject. Enjoy~

– Dana


“The Wedding Gift: Returning Home”

The flight back from Rome was uneventful, we spent a total of nine days in Rome and I had only managed to receive one additional spanking from Ann. Unfortunately, it was the morning of our return flight which made the long flight to Dallas a very uncomfortable affair. I should have known better but I guess I was still trying to process that Ann had introduced spankings into our relationship. Maybe I was hoping the first spanking was just a onetime event. However that was a short lived hope. The day we were to return home I woke up an hour later than planned, looking at the clock I jumped out of bed and started yelling at Ann to get up because we are going to be late. Ann turned over and looked at the clock with a groan saying “David get back in bed, its only 6:30 we still have three hours before we have to leave for the airport.” 

Well I don’t like being rushed and for me three hours is cutting it too close especially when we still had to finish packing, eat breakfast, call for a cab, check out of the hotel, load everything up and fight traffic on the way to the airport. Without thinking I looked at Ann and said somewhat defensively “You need to get out of bed now! We are not going to be late for our flight just because you want a little more sleep.” I felt a bit empowered especially in light of the recent events with the blue umbrella. To be very honest, I was a tad proud of myself for standing up to Ann, I was willing to let Ann be in charge of some aspects of our relationship but ultimately I was going to have the final say in things. So I figure there was no better time to establish my role as head of the household than right now. I might have gotten away with my previous outburst if I had just walked away and let Ann go back to sleep, but no I had to push her some more. That is when I learned I was never going to have the final say in this relationship. 

Ann turned over and wrapped herself deeper in the blankets, I stood there and with my most authoritative look and tone said “did you not hear what I said, you need to get out of bed now!” I then reached over and pulled the blankets off the bed and told her “it’s time to get up”. If there was ever a moment I wished I could go back in time it was right then and there. The look Ann gave me at that moment sent a tremor of fear down my back. I immediately bent over and picked up the blankets from the floor. Placing the blankets back on the bed I tried to tuck them around Ann, all the while I kept muttering “I am really sorry Ann, I really am, I won’t ever do anything like that again.” The silence from Ann was deafening, her gaze shot through me like an arrow and I knew at that point I was going to experience my second spanking. If I had only known what was about to happen, I would have done anything to get out of that spanking. In retrospect, I should have kept my mouth shut in the first place and gone back to bed when Ann told me to, but sometime I just can’t keep myself out of trouble no matter how hard I try. 

          Ann threw off the covers and set up in the bed, she simply pointed to the corner. She did not have to say a word as I knew I had better not get myself into anymore trouble. As I shuffled to the corner I saw out of the corner of my eye the hairbrush sitting on the night stand. I noticed Ann had taken the red ribbon and tied a nice little bow around the handle of the hairbrush. Ann told me earlier that week from now on when I stand in the corner I would do so naked, this served two purposes. The first was so I could place my hands on my bare bum and think about how it is going to feel while it’s being spanked. The second reason was so we would not waste any time when it came time for my spanking, she could take me right across her lap and immediately begin spanking me. As I stood in the corner I could still feel the lingering effects of the first spanking she had given me. As Ann went into the bathroom, I slightly pressed my fingers against the flesh of my bum and I was reminded of just how much that wooden hairbrush stung as it landed on my bare skin.

 Ann entered the room and walked over to the bed, as she passed the night stand she reached down and picked up the hairbrush. She sat down on the edge of the bed and with a stern voice called me over. As I turned around I saw a sight which still makes me tremble even to this day. Ann was lightly tapping the hairbrush against the palm of her hand. I would soon learn this was a sign that I was in for a very hard and painful spanking. I noticed the red ribbon was pushed up to the base of the hairbrush, the short ends of the ribbon were freely fluttering in the air each time she tapped the brush against her palm. It looked as if the brush itself was waving me over and celebrating the fact that once again it was going to be applied to the bare bottom of a naughty husband.  Slightly trembling I started to mutter an excuse, Ann simply looked at me and said firmly “Don’t you even say a word young man, all I want to hear from you is ‘Yes Ma’am’ do you understand me?” I meekly uttered “yes Ma’am” and presented myself to my young bride as she prepared to take me across her lap for the second time in a matter of days.  

Ann led me to her left side and quickly pulled me towards her lap; this happened so fast I lost my balance and I fell across her lap. I am always amazed with the strength Ann has when she grabs my arm to lead me across her lap. Her grasp is as firm as her countenance and as unyielding as her voice. As I came to a stop, I felt Ann’s right arm wrap around my waist and press me snuggly against her body. For a moment I looked at the floor and thought to myself “O’ how I wished I had just gone back to bed”. Then it happened … with no warning, no warm up, and no taps, just the solid sting of the back of the wooden hairbrush hitting my unprotected and still tender bottom. I was caught off guard and before I could stop myself I yelled out “Damn it Ann that hurts.” If there is anything that gets Ann upset while she is spanking me it is when I yell at her, especially if I use foul language while doing so. Immediately she lifted the hairbrush and brought the brush down in a series of quick painful slaps. She kept the area small that she was spanking so there would be no time for the stinging of the last blow to reach its climax before the next stinging blow landed. I started to wiggle and squirm. I vainly tried to move a bit forward on her lap so the stinging blows would land in a fresh area instead of the same small diameter that she had been spanking. As I tried to move forward she squeezed my waist tighter, trapping me in place. She reached down with her brush finding a nice tender spot on my lower thigh. She gave me one good smack leaving an immediate bright red imprint of the brush on my leg. With that she said “Stop that right now, you will take the spanking you earned and you will take it like I taught you to.” To reinforce what she said, she landed another sharp stinging blow to my lower thigh leaving me with two perfect outlines of the brush. This time instead of yelling I clinched my teeth and held my breath trying to will the sting away. Ann stopped for a moment, looking at me as I held my breath she said “Take a deep breath and keep breathing because holding your breath won’t make this spanking any easier.” To prove her point, she proceeded to give me another set of quick painful slaps to my bottom. I took in a deep breath, I breathed out, I held my breath, I closed my eyes, and I even clinched my bottom all to no avail. No matter what I did I could not escape the stinging burn that was quickly dominating my entire lower region.

After what seemed like an hour Ann finally stopped. I was relieved when she told me to stand up; I did not think I could take much more of the spanking. Although I am not sure it was as bad as the first spanking she gave me, it still hurt a lot. As I stood up Ann grabbed my arm and brought me in front of her. She looked at me and said “David, I am very disappointed in you. I would have thought we could have made it back home before I had to take you across my lap again, but I guess I was wrong. But that is not the only thing I was wrong about. I was also wrong to think you had learned your lesson about arguing with me and I really thought you had learned your lesson about not disrespecting me. But I see I was wrong on all accounts” I had a sinking feeling my spanking was far from over, I tried to mumble a feeble excuse and in return I received a stern disapproving look from Ann. While I may be slow on the uptake from time to time, I was smart enough this time to keep my mouth shut. So I simply said “Yes Ma’am. Ann replied “David I cannot and will not allow you to disrespect me, you have to understand in order to make this marriage work we have to show mutual respect for each other and so far you are having trouble with showing me the proper respect. But that is all right, because I have a way to deal with your disrespect. Unfortunately, I thought I would not have to do this until we returned home so I am a bit unprepared. But no worries my dear, my mother shared with me a little secret on what to do when I find myself in this position.” With that Ann stood up and walked over to the glass inlaid wooden door that separated the bedroom from the sitting room. Attached to the door was a small cherry wood mini-blind, she walked up to the blind and skillfully disconnected the smooth rounded wooden tilt rod, walking over to me she swiftly swished the rod through the air. The rod made a whistling sound as it cut through the air; she was swishing the rod so quickly that I could hardly see the rod itself. She stopped in front of me and pointed the tip of the rod at me saying “David I thought it would take a little longer before I introduced to you to the joys of the cane. While this is not actually a cane it will do nicely for today, but you can be assured that when we get home you will become well acquainted with a proper cane.” As promised, I did become well acquainted with the cane, it was this first real caning which Ann gave me that taught me to fear the cane and where I relegated the cane to my least favorite implement.  

Ann pointed to an overstuffed chair that was in the corner, telling me to move the chair out of the corner so I could stand behind it. I thought about pleading with her not to spank me anymore but then I thought better of it, so I did as I was told. After I moved the chair she instructed me to stand behind the chair and lean over the back rest and grab the front edge of the seat cushion. The back rest was just a bit high but I was able to reach the back of the seat cushion without a problem. I tried to reach the front edge of the cushion but I could not reach it without standing on my toes. So I let go and placed my hands at the back of the seat cushion. Ann tapped the side of my leg with the rod and asked me what I was waiting for, I said “I am not waiting for anything, I am ready now” and she replied “I told you to hold the front edge of the seat cushion” I protested a little and told her “I can’t reach the front of the seat cushion without standing on my toes.” To which she answered “exactly, that is just how I want you to be, I want to see the skin of your bottom nice and tight and ready to feel the kiss of the cane. There is nothing like the sound of a good cane striking a nice tight bum. Too bad all I have is this wooden tilt rod from the mini-blind but I am sure it will do nicely” She tapped my leg again and I reached for the front edge of the seat cushion, not knowing what I was about to experience. 

I heard the wooden rod swishing through the air a few times and then felt a light tapping on my bottom. Ann was slowing moving the rod up and down my bottom as though she was looking for the perfect spot. All of a sudden she stopped. I felt the rod rise a bit and then felt two slow light taps proceeded by the sound of the rod swishing through the air followed by the sound of a thud as the rod landed on my bum. For a second I did not feel anything. I began to think this isn’t going to hurt at all. Before I could complete my thought, a sharp stinging pain shot across my bum starting at the point where the tip of the rod landed and continuing across both cheeks. Just as the sharp stinging pain climaxed, I felt a deeper burn building in intensity and spreading across my entire bottom. Whereas the sting of the hairbrush last for a few seconds the sting and deep burning of the rod seemed to go on forever. Ann watched me patiently until she was sure the pain had died down before she repeated the entire process. A few taps, some rubbing of my bum, two small taps and then a searing burning sting on my bum. I could not help myself as I yelled out in pain and pleaded with Ann to stop. She said “I would love to stop right now but I am afraid if I do you will forget about the consequences of being disrespectful.” I pleaded with her telling her “I promise I will not forget, please honey stop!” “Hush now, you still have 10 strokes to go” was her only reply.  Unlike the quick pace of the hairbrush she took her time with the rod, allowing each stroke to fully blossom into the full effect before landing the next stroke. 

Finally she was finished. As I reached behind me to rub my bum I could feel the welts that were forming. Each time I touched the welts they would send a dreadful burning pain across my bum. I learned very quickly it would be best not to touch them at all. Looking at the clock Ann commented “its 7:30 we still have two hours before we need leave for airport. Why don’t you be a Doll and order us some room service and we will enjoy a nice light breakfast here in our room. I want to enjoy my handy work for a bit before you cover that colorful bum of yours. I think I am beginning to see some bruises forming; I truly love seeing bruises after a good spanking.”   

I am not sure how it happened, but I found myself sitting in the dreaded middle seat of a three seat row. Ann had the aisle seat and next to the window sat a lovely older lady who was polite and very talkative. However she seemed to have to go to the lavatory about every 30 minutes. While this in itself would be annoying under any normal circumstance, for me it was simply unbearable. Each time she either got up or returned to her seat I had to stand up and move into the aisle. As I moved my pants would rub against the welts on my bum sending small burning stings across my bottom. But what made it worse, was every time I stood in the aisle, Ann made sure she was behind me. While we waited for the older lady to get out of her seat Ann would press up against me and poke at the welts on my bum. It did not matter how many times the lady left or returned to her seat Ann never tired of poking at my welts. All I could do was smile and laugh a bit; otherwise instead of poking me she would give me a good hard pinch. It only took one pinch to realize it is better just to let Ann poke me while I wait for the lovely older lady.       

After we landed in Dallas we made our way to the baggage claim. By this time my bottom was very sore and I was walking a bit stiff trying to keep my pants from rubbing against my welts.  As we cleared the customs area we saw Ann’s parents waiting for us. Ann’s mother Mellissa came running up to us and gave Ann a big hug. She then turned to me and patted my bottom asking “so how is your bum feeling today?” She gave me a quick little smile and with a light giggle she turned back to talk with Ann. After Ann’s father and I retrieved our bags we headed to the doors leading to the parking lot. I noticed Ann’s father was walking a bit stiff, and I realized we were both walking the same way. As they passed through the doors Mellissa reached down and poked his bottom a few times and that’s when I saw it, the handle of a well worn wooden hairbrush sticking out of Mellissa’s handbag. 

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Jun 192011

It never ceases to amaze me – the time and creativity undertaken by readers who decide to participate in the writing contests. I do sincerely hope to have each and every one of them over my knee…my way of showing gratitude. 

Here is another great entry from the ‘Person Place and Thing’ Contest. In this (untitled) story, the boys finally turn the tables on us girls…

– Dana


Robert and Carole had been friends virtually all their life. They had grown up in one of those affluent suburbs of Boston, where their existence as somewhat pampered and much-loved children of wealthy indulgent parents had given them both charmed upbringings. Now both 21 years old, they had just graduated from a Liberal Arts college in New England that was the preserve of well-to-do but not too clever students. At College, they had become inseparable and had decided during their final year to marry, immediately after their graduation. A lavish wedding ceremony had followed, set in the lush gardens of Carole’s parent’s mansion with the groom’s parents paying for a no-expenses spared honeymoon in Europe where the couple were to visit Paris, Vienna, Rome and finally, the South of France, staying in the best hotels throughout.

Clearly they had everything they could desire and Carole certainly knew it. As they travelled from Paris to Vienna and then on to Rome Robert saw a new side of Carole, one he had never encountered before. Carole was simply arrogant, speaking curtly and rudely to the hotel staff they met, however accommodating the staff were. Despite their youth and inexperience, nothing seemed good enough for Carole as she complained of inconsequential issues, the heat and lack of air-conditioning, the food, even the scratchiness of the bed linen. Robert became subdued as he discovered this new side to Carole, a side he had never really seen or experienced before – was his life going to be dominated by this bad-tempered young women?

As they sat under a blue umbrella, which Carole had insisted the waiter put up even though they were in the shade already, in a cafe some 50 metres from by the Trevi Fountain, Robert looked wistfully at many other couples who sat in a care-free manner by the fountain itself, flicking water to each other, laughing and joking. His new wife had already complained about her coffee which was too cold for her liking, ridiculing and insulting the poor waitress in the process. To make matters worse, Carole had rather theatrically poured the coffee onto the carpet requiring the waitress to get down on her hands and knees to clear up the mess as best she could. They now sat in silence as they waited for the replacement drink, the romance and sense of excitement at being at such an atmospheric place passing them by.

Carole became impatient and was about to call the waitress back to demand her coffee when a policeman, who had been sitting at one of the adjoining tables came over to them. He had witnessed the episode and said to Carole and Robert in broken English. “I see you didn’t like the coffee, come with me, I will ensure you will get what you deserve”. Robert and Carole looked at each other and then Carole smiled sweetly at the policeman “Thanks,  this cafe is lousy, it would be great if you could take us to a better place”. “It will be my pleasure” countered the policeman as they left the cafe and followed him around the corner to the building immediately behind.

“You will get the experience of your life” the policeman said as they were ushered through the door. As they entered the building, Robert sensed something was wrong – they were not in a cafe but what appeared to be the front room of a house. The room was sparsely furnished and in the middle stood a lone tall ladder-backed chair. Behind the chair stood the waitress and in her hand, a huge paddle. Carole and Robert looked at each other in atonishment. “What’s this all about” blurted Robert.

The policeman turned to Carole. “In my country, your behaviour is inexcuseable and punishable. Spilling the coffee with intent is criminal damage and you will be locked up in prison overnight and then deported. A report will be sent to the authorities in the US” Carole turned white, she realized immediately her predicament and started to both cry and scream “you can’t do this, you can’t do this, what will my parents think”. Turning to Robert the policeman continued “this is your fault, if you had controlled and disciplined your wife properly, she would not have behaved the way she did. In my country, husbands thrash their wives and I suggest you learn to do this yourself if you wish this matter to go no further”.

Carole, oblivious to the words the plooliceman had just said, continued to cry and scream directing her venom at Robert “do something, do something, get me out of here”. Robert looked at the policeman but instantly knew what he had to do. Approaching the waitress, he held out his hand and said “May I ?” as he took the paddle from her and grabbed hold of his wife with the other. Within a second, Robert was seated on the chair and had roughly pulled his wife over his lap. “What are you doing???” shouted Carole, “something I should have done days ago” as Robert took the hem of her skirt and lifted it up over her waist exposing her bottom. Immediately he started to thrash her.  “Stop it, stop it” shouted Carole as she tried unsuccessfully to wiggle off his lap, his hold around her waist tightening. The policeman looked on approvingly and gestured to her pants as Robert continued to paddle her. Robert stopped and quitely said to Carole “Are you ready to apologise to the waitress”? “No, I am not and just wait until I tell my parents”. With that Robert strengthened his hold and with his free hand pulled down her panties resuming the paddling on her bare bottom.

Robert was like a man possessed; in an instant he knew that this opportunity would be perhaps the only time he would be able to dominate his wife and teach her a lesson. As he thrashed her, his thoughts were on the future and how he wanted his life to be. He didn’t want to have a spoilt, bored wife but one who would enjoy life and everything that it had to offer. He knew that this lesson would teach her that life was about experiencing everything that was offered – even faulty air-conditioning, scratchy bed-lined and cold coffee and as he thrashed her, he willed her spirit to change.

At last he decided she had had enough and stopped. “Are you ready to apologise to the waitress?” he said in a soothing voice as he helped her off his lap. “I’m sorry blubbered Carole, my behaviour was wrong”. Everybody smiled, the lesson had been learnt and perhaps, just perhaps, Robert was going to have a great married life after all.  

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Jun 132011

The entrants in the ‘Person Place and Thing’ Spanking Story Contest were NOT playing around. These stories are imaginative and lengthy…I am, once again, impressed.  – Dana

Make sure to click on the ‘Read More’ link at the bottom of the visible text to view the full story.


When in Rome, do as you are told to do’

While Christine was looking forward to the wedding itself, Bruno was more consumed with the planned honeymoon in Italy and life together with his new bride. They had met only two years earlier, and had never really had any extended time alone together. Bruno was always somewhat bothered by this, but for some reason, Christine never was. She seemed more certain about their relationship and their compatibility for the years to come. She was a great girl, intelligent and independent,  well educated, head strong, in great shape, and quite beautiful, with her green eyes and red hair, aged twenty-five. She was too good of a girl for Bruno to let go, so as risky as it may have seemed, marriage was the most logical step to take. He was a tall, healthy man, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and at age twenty-seven, was already successful, having made partner at his accounting firm.

After their wedding, they immediately were on a trip to Italy. Throughout the twelve hour flight, the two were like tired love birds. The drama and excitement of the wedding was over, as was the hectic, non-stop atmosphere. The flight gave them an opportunity to relax, and just enjoy each other’s company. They smiled frequently at each other, neither really knowing the thoughts going through the other’s head, but somehow one can sense that Christine was more comfortable than Bruno. 

They had chosen Rome as their initial destination, for both its history and for its diversity. It’s quite the city, with its architectural treasures living side by side with modern edifices, with trendy new shops complimenting ancient landmarks. Where else can one sit at once on the Spanish Steps and see shops bearing the names Prada and Dior?

Their arrived in Rome early in the morning, well rested having managed to sleep well on the flight and immediately took a taxi to Hotel Victoria, their boutique hotel. Christine had left this portion of the trip’s plan to Bruno. It was his task to find and book hotels. The hotel had a charming lobby, with a cluttered but clean look, and bit of a damp smell. Once their checking in was complete, the receptionist handed them an antique, cast brass Victorian era key. Seeing their gaze in amazement, the receptionist noted that the keys were actually vintage Victorian keys purchased by the hotel’s owner years ago from an auction. Christine had an evil smile on her face, gave a half nod of approval to Bruno, and grabbed the key. 

They arrived in their room, and after a quick discussion, they agreed that it would be best to go and explore the city. They took turns showering and cleaning up, and put their belongings away. Immediately after stepping out of the lobby doors, they realized it was raining. Christine asked Bruno to run in and get an umbrella from the receptionist. Bruno came back in a couple of minutes bearing a blue umbrella, with a black handle. Christine looked at the umbrella and then gave Bruno a devilish look and said “how nice, black and blue, my favorite colors.” Perplexed at her comments, as she had always touted her favorite color as being lavender, Bruno carried on normally. He opened the umbrella and covered both of them and they began to walk. 

Conversing while they walked, they decided they would first walk to the Spanish Steps, have lunch nearby, and then walk to the Trevi Fountain. Christine had changed her usual method of walking, as she was now walking in front of Bruno. Normally, she’s walk alongside him and they would often hold hands. Bruno figured that because of the rain and the umbrella, it made it easier for Christine to stay dry by walking in front. Nevertheless, she seemed to want to wander to each store and shop their saw along the way that caught her interest. Since he was holding the umbrella, he had to follow her each and every time. In his mind, Bruno cursed the rain as it was preventing him from walking side by side, holding hands with his wife, and preventing him from seeing the sights, stores, and shops he wanted to see. He almost couldn’t believe it, as he had been looking forward to finally having proper alone time with Christine, yet here he was following her as if he was her assistant. He soon realized that he was overreacting and that it was just the first day of a two week vacation, and after all, Christine seemed to be enjoying herself and that made him happy. 

The twenty minute walk to the Spanish Steps seemed to be taking much longer, as Christine was stopping at almost every shop she encountered. Bruno was feeling a bit left out, as most of the shops were for women’s apparel, and of no interest to him. He soon grew tired enough to when he saw Christine shift her direction towards yet another shop, he gently grabbed her shoulder and asked if they can just continue on their way to their destination. To his surprise, she just looked at him and simply said “no” and proceeded to walk towards the shop. Stunned at her response, Bruno stood still for a moment. He then realized that Christine was walking in the rain towards the shop with no protection, and quickly rushed over to cover her with the umbrella. Upon entering the store, Christine began to dry the water off of her purse and jacket, and although she didn’t say anything to Bruno, one could tell that she was less than pleased. From that point forward, feeling guilty for his actions, Bruno followed suit and didn’t complain. 

After two hours, they reached the Spanish Steps, and viewed its simplicity and majesty. The place was immensely crowded, and both Christine and Bruno thought best to come back later, when there might be less people, and hopefully no rain. They began searching for a place to eat and soon found a nice, quiet restaurant that looked authentic. 

The table was simple but elegant, with a white tablecloth, and soon the waiter brought them bread and a liter of house red wine and took their orders. Bruno was gazing at the scenery around, when suddenly Christine broke the silence and asked what he was thinking about. He replied with a predictable “nothing,” to which Christine gave a sideways nod of her head, expecting an honest answer. He reluctantly explained his frustration at the lopsidedness of their time spent in Rome so far. Christine calmly looked at Bruno and said “dear, it’s just the first day. There will be plenty of time to do other things. And besides, a man should be happy to see his wife being happy, no?” Bruno agreed, somewhat unwillingly, but nodded in agreement nonetheless. He was more bothered by her demeanor than anything else. 

Throughout lunch, with the wine flowing through them easily, Christine kept bringing up topics and subjects that not only caught Bruno off guard, but at times made him think he had made a major mistake. They were certainly not subjects that she had ever brought up before, and were not things that Bruno had ever associated with her. She first casually brought up the youth of Rome reminding her of the times in college when she would be extremely intoxicated and influenced by drugs, partying with guys she had never met before, each time presumably a different group. Bruno, stunned, asked what went on at these parties, to which Christine simply replied “what do you think?” He asked her how many people she slept with, fearing the worst, yet her answer still managed to surprise him. She replied with “men, or women?” One cannot imagine the thoughts going through Bruno’s head. The girl he though he had gotten to know for two years seemed to be somewhere else now, replaced with what he can only think of as some party whore. He was confused as to whether he should demonstrate his frustration or probe her longer to get more information out of her.

He chose the latter, and nervously asked what experiences she had in those days. She was very frank, and said she enjoyed both, and that each had it’s uniqueness. The women were more pleasing and more sensual, but roping in a man was more exciting. What really got Bruno’s attention was her last comment, that what was most fun of all, whether with men or women, was being the dominant one. Before Bruno could aske what she meant by “the dominant one,” Christine continued with her story, specifically about her time with three guys at once, all the while having a smile on her face as though she as recalling a fond memory. This was too much for Bruno, who despite the influx of the wine, was getting deeply upset at what he was uncovering. He stood up, said he could not tolerate this, and just walked out of the restaurant. Christine continued on with her lunch, as though nothing had happened, going on to order herself a delicious dessert. She then politely asked and paid for the bill, and walked outside. 

It was now pouring outside, and in his hastily exit, Bruno had left the umbrella inside the restaurant. Thankfully, Christine had picked it up. She walked outside and saw Bruno standing about a hundred feet away under a shop’s awning, with an apologetic look on his face. She looked at him, ensuring eye contact was made, and then began to walk the other way. Pretty soon, Bruno came running up behind her, attempting to stop her , wishing to speak. Naturally, he was apologetic. Christine didn’t say a word, letting him speak in incoherent and confused terms, no doubt influenced by his strong emotional journey. To Christine, this was necessary, to have Bruno’s emotions exercised. She knew it would play well into her hands in the future, and that it was key that she begin gaining control over Bruno’s emotions. After he was done speaking, she simply said to him that “it was college, and it was a few years ago. We‘re here now.”

She then coldly told Bruno that she planned to continue her walk to the Trevi Fountain, and that he was welcome to come along, or go off on his own. Concerned that he would frustrate her more, and further bury himself, he chose to go with her to the fountain. From an entirely different perspective, Christine adjusted her strategy based on Bruno’s decision. She repeated the same steps from their previous walk, stopping at every shop, only now, she started to also buy a couple of items, and not necessarily inexpensive ones. Bruno, still feeling less than ideal for his previous behavior, didn’t say a word about her purchases, and without hesitation volunteered to hold the bags. Nevertheless, he didn’t quite know for how long and how far this shopping spree would go. So far, all of the items, and each costing a not insignificant sum, were strictly for her. Items that ranges from bath soaps, perfumes, jewelry, and clothing. She continued to shop at her heart’s content, while Bruno realized that with each purchase, it meant less was available for him to use for himself. 

They soon reached the Trevi Fountain, and as it’s customary to do so, each threw a coin into it. They marveled at its beauty, and at the prowess of the Romans who managed to build such beautiful landmarks in a beautiful city. Christine was the first to speak, asking Bruno if he knew of the fountain’s origins. She described the fountain being built to symbolize the endpoint of the acquaduct, and took the artistic liberty to expand on that them by further commenting that “it demonstrates the end of one life, and the beginning of another. The flowing water has traveled a long way, changing it’s form from snow to liquid, then harvested and given direction by the duct, eventually leading it to this point, where it is now something obtainable and useful for the capable citizen.” Christine had that same smile on her face that had so thoroughly affected Bruno earlier in the day. He was now quite nervous on the inside, not knowing what other surprises she had for him.

Returning to the hotel, they rested for a bit and then decided to set out for dinner. Christine told Bruno that she would like to have an hour alone to roam some nearby shops, and that they would meet at their selected restaurant for dinner.  Down the steps they went, and as Bruno was nearing his way out the door, he noticed Christine chatting and smiling with the receptionist as she handed him the hotel key. It was customary to drop the key off while leaving. Bruno shrugged it off and went on his way, enjoying the liberty of not having Christine leading him. It was no longer raining, and it was relaxing to walk the streets. There were so many beautiful women, it was almost a relief that his wife wasn’t there to catch him staring. Knowing how much Christine had already spent, he chose not buy anything, but rather to just walk and relax a bit.

An hour later, they met for dinner, and Christine seemed to be back in her pre marriage ways. She had gone shopping again, but this time around, she was pleasant, humorous, and talked about how beautiful Rome was and how much she was enjoying the trip. Her tone was friendly and inviting. This put Bruno at ease, as he could see things slowly returning to normal. It must have been all of the stress related to the wedding, he thought. Christine had fretted over every last detail while he simply had just shown up on the big day. Surely, she must be mentally exhausted and today’s earlier antics where just a result of that. 

After dinner, Christine was quite playful, rubbing her hand over Bruno’s arm, holding his hand as they walked. She smiling said “why don’t we go back to our room and have some fun?” Bruno smile from ear to ear, stared down at Chrstine, and started walking towards their hotel. Christine went to pick up the key from the receptionist while Bruno waited at the foot of the staircase. He noticed Christine was again conversing with the receptionist, but nothing could take his attention off of making love to his beautiful wife.

They entered the room, and she playfully asked him to get her perfume from her suitcase. As he went about looking for it, she entered the bathroom and quickly freshened up. As she came out, he saw Bruno still looking for the perfume, just as she had expected. The perfume wasn’t there; it never was, and she knew that. It was just a stall tactic. She made her way to the bed and sat at the edge, facing the window with its cyrtains shut closed, and just stared at Bruno while he opened yet another compartment on the suitcase. She very commandingly, and in a very direct, yet clearly enunciated tone, said “stop!” This caught Bruno off guard, almost making him think that someone else had entered the room. As he was about to say that he couldn’t find the perfume, in that same tone, she said “come over here,” while she motioned to him to come over with her right index finger, her red nail polish glowing in Bruno’s eyes. 
He could only mutter “yes,” confused and anxious as he was, as he walked over to her. She had him stand in front of her for a moment, before she said anything else. She then pointed to a shopping bag, the same one she had with her at dinner. Once again, enunciating clearly and in a strict tone, she said “bring me that bag.” He obliged, not knowing what was going on, but at the same time curious to find out. As he grabbed the bag, and returned, she motioned him to place it on the floor, near her. She stared at him for a minute, and then bluntly and coldly said, “I am now going to spank you,” and gave Bruno time to digest it.

Bruno, turning red in embarrassment, didn’t say anything. He was feeling quite turned on by this, much to his surprise, but was at once also concerned. What if he enjoyed it, what would that mean? Would it mean anything? Would it mean everything? Was it just sex, or something more? He quickly came to the conclusion that it’s just sex. He had experience light bondage before with an ex-girlfriend, and had heard that some women might go even further, as it added spice to their sex lives. He looked at her, and nodded with approval. Christine quickly and sternly spoke up and said “I did not ask for your approval. I don’t care for your approval. I will spank you!” With that, she gave him a couple of slaps on his butt, which caught Bruno off guard. She quickly motioned him over her knees, and shifted him around until his weight was properly over her knee, and she could position his left hand behind her back, and her right hand behind her left arm. 

The strokes came gently but frequently. The frequency then slowed, but the severity increased. After a few minutes, she reached over him and unbuttoned his jeans, and pulled them down to his ankles, and began spanking him through his briefs. He could now feel her strength and the strokes were beginning to really hurt. Not knowing what to expect, and what to do, Bruno just stayed put and took the pain. After a few minutes, Christine stopped and began to caress his ass, over his briefs. She then broke the silence of the preceding minutes and said “now then, do you know what you have done to deserve this, sweetheart?” Surely she must be upset at his behavior earlier today, though Bruno. He replied with “I’m sorry for my behavior earlier today.” A laughter started in Christine. “My love, your behavior this morning was quite typical for a man, and both anticipated and expected. You will soon understand what this spanking is for.” 

Confused, Bruno asked what she meant by anticipated and expected. “Simple,” replied Christine. “Men are quite predictable emotionally. I knew from the start that if I took charge, you would react as you did. And guess what? You did! You saw your dominance being challenged, and you couldn’t fight back for it intellectually and effectively. Instead, you basically cried and yelled like an uncivilized and immature person. Is that what you are? Did I marry someone who can‘t communicate without whining and crying like a spoiled bitch?”  “No! No!” shouted Bruno. An immediate and powerful two strokes caught him off guard. “Do not raise your voice at me! Ever! When I want to hear you speak, I will let-you-know! Is that clear?” stated Christine. 

Bruno, now both aroused and hurt, was immensely confused emotionally. If this was role play on the part of Christine, in his opinion, it had gone too far. “Honey, look, I don’t mind the spanking, but can you tone down the name calling, please” he asked gently. Unfortunately, from his humiliating position, he couldn’t see Christine’s face, as she was smiling, with the type of smile that only the holder of a winning hand can have. “Sweetheart,” she said, “if you think this is some kind of role play, you are sadly mistaken. Trust me, your life is going to become more meaningful, more purposeful, more enjoyable, and healthier. And you will thank me for it later.” She then proceeded to pull his briefs to his ankles, exposing his now pink ass. The next set of strokes were extremely hard. 

She continued to spank Bruno’s bare ass, with strong, even strokes, until it was a nice glowing red. With Bruno on the verge of tears, she stopped and began caressing his bare ass, telling Bruno how this was the best thing for him, that it would make his life immensely better, in every way. She then reached into the shopping bag and pulled out an object. “Do you know what this is?” she rhetorically asked Bruno? “It’s an antique wooden hairbrush,” she continued on. “Guess what it’s for,” she said almost laughing out loud, as she then proceeded to spank him with the heavy hairbrush. “They don’t make them this way anymore,” pondered Christine. “You can feel the heft and solidity of the wood on these antique models,” she continued on to say.

Soon after being exposed to the damage the wooden hairbrush can cause, Bruno was literally and figuratively in tears. He was in physical pain, as his ass was now bruised enough and on the verge of bleeding. He was tremendously confused, as he realized that this was certainly no role play. However, what really frightened him and put him over the edge was his own realization that he was allowing this to take place. He was allowing Christine to become the dominant in their relationship, and was letting her bruise his ass and his ego. How could he let this happen? He was so aggressive at work, and was known for being a driven, strong, and demanding individual. He was the young stud everyone at work envied. A winner by all accounts. But here he was, his bare ass exposed, on his wife’s lap, getting spanked. He had been absolutely manipulated by her. Each of her previous actions were now evident for being precisely calculated moves, in an attempt to get him to react in a certain way. She had worked him over mentally, and had done it in quite the subtle way. He was mesmerized by her ability and achievement. She was smarter and more clever than him, and he realized he had been defeated. As is popular to say these days, he was getting “owned“. Except in Bruno’s case, he was literally getting owned These feelings brought out a feeling of absolute humiliation in Bruno. 

His face was now almost as red as his bottom. The strong smack of the hairbrush brought him back to his present situation. His ass was now literally bleeding, so bad were the bruises. Christine had ensured that her first spanking of Bruno would be severe, so as to avoid any confusion from Bruno that this was merely some form of sexual satisfaction. This was meant to be her ascension to the role of sole leader in their marriage. This spanking was to put Bruno in his place, and to make certain that he never challenged her authority, in any condition. Any decision, even those affecting Bruno directly, would have to be cleared and approved by Christine. Total dominance is what she was after, and she was going to make sure that this spanking would be powerful enough to have that affect. 

To leave her mark and achieve her goal of true dominance in their relationship, Christine went beyond where she may have normally stopped and truly bruised Bruno’s bottom. He was balling and screaming, to the point where she had to give him a pillow to bite on to suppress the noise. After what seemed like an eternity for Bruno, Christine stopped, and began to caress his back and pet his hair. She looked at his bottom and satisfyingly said, “how nice. Black and blue, my favorite colors.“ She continued on, whispering “it’s ok love, it’s ok. You will thank me later, and you will be happy. It’s ok. It’s going to be all right.” She then changed her tone to a slightly strict one, but less so than before, and ordered Bruno to stand up. She then asked him to walk to the corner, and ordered him to stand there. “This will give you the time needed to reflect on what happened, what it means, and how your future is impacted. Do not touch your bottom, or any other part. If I catch you touching anything, or even looking over your shoulder, I will spank you again using the hairbrush, and won’t care if I bruise you to the bone. Stand there, hands to your sides, staring at the wall. If you think I’m not serious, just try me. I have a zero tolerance policy, so test it at your own will. Remain there for precisely one hour.”

Christine then proceeded to the bathroom and took a shower. The spanking had given her quite a workout. Meanwhile, Bruno was just destroyed, in every sense. He was physically, emotionally, and mentally taken advantage of, by his wife of all people. He was humiliated, ashamed, confused, and aroused all at one. She came out of the shower, and found Bruno exactly where she had left him. He was too frightened to even speak with her. She knew that she had succeeded and achieved her goal.. 

Bruno can sense that she was out of the shower, though he did not dare to even try to look. He then sensed her putting on some clothes and nearing the window. She was fiddling with something, but he couldn’t determine what with. She then casually said “I’ll be right back. There’s something I need to take care of. You still have half an hour.” She came back after twenty minutes, and walked over to Bruno. She put her head near his shoulder, and he could smell her. She smelled so good, like she always did. He began to tilt his head towards her, but she quickly reminded him that he was to remain still for another ten minutes. She then brought her right hand up , near the end of Bruno’s peripheral vision. He could see it was a small black object, but otherwise, couldn’t make a determination as to what it was. “Do you know what this is?” she asked? “It’s ok, you can tilt your head to see it.” As Bruno tilted his head, he noticed that she was holding a small camcorder. “Yes”, he gulped, worryingly. “That’s right,” said Christine, “it’s a camcorder. It’s my camcorder, that I gave to the receptionist and asked him to set it up for me. It was right at the base of the window, and it captured e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g that took place tonight. I just took it downstairs and played the video for the receptionist. He was quite amused,” she continued, smiling. “I then took the memory card out and mailed it to a secret address. So, honey, if you ever change your mind about things, disappoint me in any way, or go astray, be assured that video will make its way to your family, friends, and coworkers.”
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All of the stories from the ‘Person Place and Thing’ Spanking Story Contest were written and submitted by readers of this blog. Please consider taking a moment to comment on their works, or just click ‘love it’ at the bottom of the post, so that they may know that you appreciate their efforts.    – Dana

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“The Wedding Gift”

Looking back I should have seen this coming, the slight little smiles that were exchanged between Ann and her mother Mellissa, the way her dad always did what Mellissa “suggested”. The little off handed comments Ann’s mother would make as they talked amongst themselves. Of course, I am not sure how I missed the biggest sign of all, when Ann’s mother swatted me on the bottom one evening after I flew off the handle when my football team lost the big game. She came up and whispered in my ear “David, I hope after the wedding you don’t think you can act this way because neither Ann nor I will tolerate this type of behavior out of you” and then she gave me a good hard slap on my bottom. I was a bit shocked and taken back and honestly I was embarrassed not only because she did it in front of Ann but she also did it in front of my parents. I noticed as she walked away she gave Ann a quick wink and Ann simply nodded her head and shot a quick little smile back.  

Well that was just the beginning of a long journey, a journey that often leads me across my young brides lap for a good sound spanking. But I am getting ahead of myself; here is the rest of the story. 

The day of the wedding finally came, there was so much activity going on, people were coming and going all morning. Around noon people started to make their way to the church for our two O’clock wedding. 

I was still trying to work off the effects of my bachelor party from the previous night which probably got a bit out of control. Unfortunately, someone clued Ann into some of the details of the party and I could tell that she was not happy with what she heard, but that’s another story for another time. 

Anyway the wedding went off perfectly, everyone was in their place at the right time, no one forgot anything and most importantly I did not mess up my vows. The festivities afterwards were fun and lively and everyone had a great time, after a few hours of eating, dancing and the cutting of the cake we still had to open the wedding gifts. By this time I was getting a bit anxious to get going because we had an early flight to Rome the next morning. As I looked over at the large overflowing table of gifts I thought to myself “this is going to take forever” and that’s when I first saw it.

It was just a little package maybe 8 or 9 inches long, I noticed it was an odd shape for a wedding gift. The wrapping paper was pretty simple, an off colored pink with a small red bow tied around it. It stood out from the other gifts that were brightly colored and ornately decorated with big colorful ribbons and bows. Among the other gifts it looked plain and boring. I noticed a small tag that read “Ann, make sure to make good use of this”.  Ann came over and asked me if I was ready to open the gifts, I said “yes” but honestly all I wanted to do was to leave. As we moved over to the table I saw Ann pick up the little pink package and set it aside.  It seemed like an eternity before we were finished opening all the gifts. Finally everything was opened except that funny little package. I bent over and quietly said “I think we forgot one” and I pointed over to the small package, she simply looked at me and in an assertive voice said “you don’t need to worry about that one, at least not now.” I thought that was kind of a strange reply but I wanted to go so I shrugged my shoulders and let it go.

I noticed the package again when we stepped into the limousine to head to the hotel, it was sticking out of Ann’s purse still wrapped in the pink paper. I did not see it again until the next morning, on our way to the airport I saw it sticking out of Ann’s carryon bag and it was still wrapped in the pink paper. I could see the tag “Ann, Make sure to make good use of this”. I mentioned to Ann that she still had not opened the small package; she replied “I thought I told you yesterday not to worry about it,” and then she added “I see I am going to have my work cut out with you.” She said it in such an authoritative way that I decided to drop the subject. 
When we landed in Rome we made our way to the charming hotel Fontana which overlooks the famed Trevi Fountain. The hotel was originally built in the 13th century as a monastery but was converted to a hotel in the late 1700’s. As we entered our room and looked out the window we had a breathtaking view of the Trevi Fountain built by the Romans in 19 BC as the terminal point of the Acqua Vergine aqueducts.  I spent a few minutes gazing at the fountain and watching the people while Ann began to unpack. When I turned around I noticed the little pink package was sitting on the night stand near Ann’s side of the bed. Remembering Ann’s reaction from the previous times I asked about the package I decided not to say anything about it. The next day we woke up and went sightseeing, we spent the morning walking around the square looking through the shops and taking pictures of the fountain. Around noon I noticed black clouds forming in the distance, I mentioned to Ann I thought it was going to rain so I suggested we find a nice little café to have lunch. She thought it was a wonderful idea and we chose a little café across from the Fountain, the café had a nice covered porch where we enjoyed a pleasant lunch. Just as we finished eating it started to rain, not a light sprinkle but a heavy soaking rain, little did I know that my life was about to change because of that soaking rain.  Ann mentioned it would be a good idea if I bought an umbrella from the little shop across the square. As I looked across the square I noticed the water was already pooling in front of the fountain and the few remaining people who were trying to find shelter were already drenched.  I replied to Ann “we should just wait out the storm in the café as there was no need to rush plus I don’t feel like getting soaked in this heavy rain.”

Ann just stared at me and very firmly said, “I suggest you go out now and buy an umbrella.” I had heard Ann’s mother Mellissa use a similar tone with her husband before. I noticed that he always did what she suggested without being asked twice when she used that tone of voice. I always thought he was kind of brow beaten, I told myself I would never let Ann boss me around like that. That’s when I made my first mistake of many that day, I simply said “no, I am not going to go across the square and get soaking wet just to buy us a dumb umbrella.” Looking back on it now I wish I had simply done what she suggested, but I was going to make plenty of more mistakes before the end of the day. Ann looked up at me and gave me a very formidable look and said “David, I told you to go and buy us an umbrella, when I tell you something I expect you to do it without question do you understand me?” I was taken aback by her tone of voice and her stern look which she gave me, but something told me I should just get the umbrella because it was not worth starting a fight over.  As I grudgingly got up she said “you better change your attitude young man and do so right now,” as I walked away she called out and said “make sure you bring back a blue umbrella.” When I arrived at the small shop I was already soaked, so I grabbed the first umbrella I saw, that was my second mistake of the day.  As I ran back to the café I was completely drenched and I was not in a very good mood. As I walked back to our table I saw Ann sitting back in her chair with her arms folded across her chest, she did not look very happy. “Here” I said somewhat obnoxiously as I held out the umbrella, she asked “what is that?” I replied “it’s an umbrella.” She responded with “that is not what I told you to get, I told you to buy a blue umbrella not a red one.” I then made the third mistake of the day, I replied with a nasty attitude “it doesn’t matter what color the umbrella is, just be happy I ran through this downpour and bought you this dumb umbrella in the first place.” She shot me a look I had never seen before and with a very harsh tone simply said “David, you go back and get me a blue umbrella like I told you to.”  I then made the fourth mistake of the day, I replied “No, either you use this one or you can run out yourself and get your own blue umbrella.” The next thing I knew Ann stood up and grabbed my ear and said “I think it’s time you find out what is in the package that that you keep asking me about”. With that she proceeded to lead me out of the café pulling my ear the entire way. 

Ann did not say another word until we returned to the hotel room, as soon as we entered the room she pointed to a corner by the bed and said “young man you go stand in that corner right now, and you better not move from the corner or even look around.” That is when I made my fifth and final mistake of the day, I looked straight at her and said “you’re crazy, I’m not going to stand in the corner; do you think I am a child?”  Ann very coolly looked at me and said very firmly “get in that corner now, if you are going to act like a child then you will be treated like a child,” pulling my ear she led me to the corner and said “you better not move from this corner.”  When she returned she was wearing a simple black skirt with a white button blouse. She walked over to night stand and picked up the little pink package that was sitting there; she then sat down at the end of the bed. She told me to come over to her and as I was making my way to her she said “now you are about to find out what is in this package that you have been so curious about.”

When I stopped in front of her she directed me to her left side and unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my pants, she took hold of both my pants and shorts and started to pull them down. I reached for my pants to keep her from pulling them down and she gave me a forbidding look so I let go and she finished pulling them down. As I stood there in front of Ann with my pants and shorts laying at my feet she slowly picked up the package and turned it over in her hand. She looked me directly in the eyes and said “David, you are about to discover our family secret to a happy and successful marriage.” She then pulled the red bow off the package. Holding up the bow she said “David, you will never again question me or tell me you will not do something. I expect you to be obedient and to do what I ask the first time, do you understand me honey?” I just looked at her and did not say a word at which point she tore the wrapping off and revealed an old wooden hair brush. It was well worn and a bit dirty from many years of use; the wooden handle showed its age, there were nicks and scratches all around the edges of the bush. What caught my attention however, was the shiny patina on the back of the brush; it looked as if someone had rubbed their hand over the back of the brush for years. I also noticed the bristles were not as well used as rest of the brush was.   Looking at me, she slowly turned the brush over and over in her hand. Then she pointed the brush at me and said “honey you and this brush are going to become very well acquainted, unfortunately I don’t think you are going to like this brush as much as I will.  You see this brush has been in our family for the past three generations. It is what keeps our marriages strong and as you can see we don’t use it to brush hair.  We use this brush to spank our naughty husbands. Since you are the newest husband in our happy family your naughty bottom gets to be the next one to be introduced to this bush in a personal and intimate way. “ 

I could not believe what I was hearing, I was so dumbfounded that I completely missed what she said next “David, it’s time for your first spanking.” As she reached out for my left arm I took a small step backwards. She immediately took the brush and smacked me on my mid-thigh. The sting was incredible and all I could do was yell out “hey that hurts,” to which she replied “yes indeed it does.” She then reached for my arm again and pulled me towards her. This time I did not step back but I let her pull me across her lap. With my hands on the floor I steadied myself, I could not believe what was about to happen, was Ann really going to spank me? I looked back at Ann as she was rubbing the hair brush across my bottom.  She then said “I want you to know this is going to hurt a lot, but I expect you to keep your position and not to wiggle around. I expect you to take your spanking like a naughty boy should, you will learn to obey me and do as I say, do you understand?” She then brought the hair brush as high as she could and brought it down with all her force on my bare white bottom. The first thing I was aware of was a very loud sound of the wood hitting my bottom. Then I felt a terrible stinging where the brush had landed, as the sting was building up she brought another blow down and it landed on the same spot. The stinging gave way to a burning sensation and the pain of the two swats started to spread across my bottom. She then gave me another three quick swats with the brush which all landed in the same spot. I could not believe how much that old hair brush hurt. I tried to move and slide off her lap but she grabbed my waist with her free hand and pulled me tight against her. She then reached over and laid a series of swats on my mid-thigh were she had hit it before. The burning and stinging from the blows of the hairbrush were incredibly painful. As she laid each swat on my thigh she said, “you will learn to stay in position when you are being punished, every time you wiggle or try to move off my lap you will have your thighs spanked” and with that said she proceeded to give me another 10 swats on the thighs. When she was done spanking my thighs she returned to my bottom and continued to spank my bottom. She alternated from cheek to cheek allowing just enough time between swats for the stinging from the previous swat to reach it climate before she hit it again. 

After a few minutes she stopped and I was relieved thinking the spanking was over, but she said “we have to take care of you attitude this afternoon and your direct disobedience. I counted five separate times where you either challenged me or outright told me no. You need to understand that you do not have the option of saying no. Maybe a few more minutes of this spanking will help you learn this lesson, how about I give you 10 swats for each incident.” Fifty, how in the world am I going to be able to take fifty? My bottom already feels as though it is on fire. She then started to administer the additional swats. I began to cry out “I’m sorry honey,” “I will never disobey you again,” “please stop,” “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” She replied “now that’s more like it” and then laid on another ten swats on each cheek. By the time she stopped my bottom was on fire, every time I moved I could feel the stinging from my spanking. She helped me up and motioned for me to sit on the bed next to her. She hugged me and said “David, I love you very much and I know we are going to have a long and happy marriage. You took your first spanking very well let’s hope I won’t have to do this too often.” She had me stand up and as she was pulling up my pants she said “I suggest you go out and buy me that blue umbrella,” this time all I said was “yes Ma’am.” I thought about Ann’s father as I walked through the soaking rain, as I opened the blue umbrella I remembered how I said I was not going to let Ann boss me around like that. 

The next day Ann took my picture as I stood by Trevi Fountain holding the blue umbrella. People were looking at me kind of strangely because it was a beautiful sunny day and here I was standing under an open umbrella. That picture hangs on my office wall as a reminder of what will happen if I don’t behave. By the way if you look closely at the picture you will see sitting on the fountain wall a well used wooden hair brush.

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