‘Snuffing out a Bad Habit’ F/M spanking fiction – A Must-Read!

Readers,


I absolutely love this original entry to the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ spanking story contest. The subject matter is unique, and the author’s tone is personal and engaging. Please enjoy ‘Snuffing out a Bad Habit’.


–  Dana

Snuffing Out a Bad Habit


*A good day’s work, and it’s only 4:30.  Jim’s gonna be thrilled.  He’ll
owe me one.* I thought to myself while taking a leak.  Thump Thump wiggle
wiggle tuck zip flush.
I washed my hands in the sink, looked up into the mirror, straightening my
tie, *Yup, even under flourescent lights, still handso–  woops.* The
self-congratulatory thoughts were cut short when I smiled and saw it. There
in my teeth was a flake of Copenhagen.  *Dammit! Must’ve been  there since
just after lunch- wonder how many people at the conference table noticed?
Don’t kid yourself- all of them.*
***
“Daddy, what’s this?” my five year old asked, holding up an empty can of
dip.


“Uh, it’s uhm one of Daddy’s things. Thank you.” I said, taking it from him.


“Hey, I was gonna use it as an artifact for the lego explorers!”


My son watches too many “educational” cartoons, I guess.  But it did look
like it could be a cool artifact. The shiny gold metal lid with raised
writings and symbols… But then I saw my wife Lauren give me a look.  I’m
not always the best at interpreting those looks, but this one was clearly
disapproving.


“No, this goes in the Daddy closet with the tools. Sorry bud.”


“Aw, man!”


And just to make sure I understood, my lovely wife gave me a good uhm,
“chewing” out about how she hopes our boys never pick up that disgusting
habit, oh, and by the way when was I going to grow up?!


****


Then there were the yahoo health articles on mouth cancer left up on
the computer,
and the comment about Roger Ebert, and the looks every time someone
mentioned anything about cancer.


Dipping tobacco was a nasty habit. Not as bad as smoking- my clothes and
car didn’t smell bad, nor did it affect my ability to jog, but it was a bad
habit that I wanted / needed to quit.  A remnant of both my country
upbringing and my fraternity days that if I’m being honest was a full blown
addiction. I’d tried to quit before, and had a couple of times. I quit for
30 days before the life insurance physical… Then promptly put in a nice
big fat celebratory dip for having done so.


I tried to be discrete, because I knew my wife didn’t like it, and didn’t
want the boys to know.  But in the car, in the john, working outside in the
yard, those increasing rare days playing golf… I had a dip in. Plus it
had become increasingly expensive in the last few years.


It was time.


Didn’t tell anyone, didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, plus I’d
tried twice before and when I went back to it, my wife was livid. Not that
I planned on failing to quit, but based on that experience, I wasn’t
planning on telling her about it either. Starting with the new year, I’d
quit. Well, okay, starting Monday the 2nd. (New Years Day was a holiday,
right?)


A lot of gum chewing, but the first day wasn’t that bad.  The second day was.
The third day was even worse. So much for not making a big deal of it and
keeping it to myself. My wife knew because I was grumpy and in a foul mood
and didn’t touch the beers in the fridge.  (I knew from previous attempts
that alcohol was a quick way to lose this battle.)


“Honey I am sooo proud of you. I know you’re strong enough to make it stick
this time. I’m so happy!  No more little flakes of dried dip when I sweep,
no more spit bottles I find out in the garage, no more half empty cans you
try to hide but forget about until I find them.  Come here, how about a big
kiss on those clean lips!” Lauren went on and on…


“Enough!” I roared. The last think I wanted to talk about was dipping, I
was trying to block all thought of it from my mind.


But somehow three days led to a week, one week led to another, and though the
craving never left, I was through the worst of it and had made it over a
month.


****


It was early February and I was about to start on our taxes. I have a small
study in our home that’s really more like a large closet. I’ve always done
my own taxes, and doing them online was fairly simple. I keep fairly well
organized and was almost done but was finishing and couldn’t find our kids’
social security numbers, dangit!  I opened the bottom drawer of my little
desk and dug around in the files- the paper copy from last year was in here
somewhere…
CLINK, rattle, rattle, rattle…


One of those half empty cans of dip I’d forgotten about fell off a
stack of papers and made its distinctive sound as it histthe bottom of
the drawer.  I stared at it.
 I picked it up.  I opened it up and took a long deep sniff.  Mmmm… It
was mostly dried out -who knows how long it had been there-
But it sure smelled good.


Then I closed the lid and slid the can back across the desk. Nope. It took
me about an hour more finishing up and double checking before finally clicking
“submit” and being done with it. (Well, done with it except for having
Lauren “sign” it too with her email.)


I felt pretty good about myself, and had plans for the refund.  Walking
around the house in my socks, I checked and everyone was soundly asleep.
Our littlest had somehow made his way into our bed and was snuggled up with
my wife.  Cute.


Down to the kitchen I went to grab a couple of beers and some chips before
heading back up to my study. Long week, taxes done, temptation resisted…
I was going to enjoy myself looking at spanking videos on the computer. Oh
yeah, I may have forgotten to mention that. My wife and I are both into
spanking. Just foreplay, basically, but pretty intense and kinky foreplay I
suppose. Occasionally we’d incorporate real transgressions to spice it up,
but we didn’t live a domestic discipline lifestyle, by any means- most
spankings involved roleplay, which led to great sex.  (A lot less frequent
with little ones running around, though.)


So I undid my pants, twisted the bottle cap off, and settled in for some
happy personal time.


One beer (and one mess cleaned off my stomach) later, I looked at the can
on the back of the desk where I’d pushed it away earlier.  It wasn’t going
anywhere, just waiting for me.  Maybe I should just finish it off. Not like
I stopped at a convenience store to get a can.  It just basically (almost
literally) fell into my lap. It was mostly dry, so I wouldn’t enjoy it
much.  But I should finish it off before I had it tempt me everytime I came
up here to get work done, right?


****


“Isn’t it a little early for spring cleaning, honey?”


“I don’t care. We haven’t had a free weekend in over a month, and this
house is FINALLY going to get really clean, not just staightened up.  Have
you SEEN behind the boys’ toilet?”


No getting in Lauren’s way when she’s determined to clean. She’d go
through a box of swiffers and half a bottle of windex today, I was sure.


I came back from running errands and the house smelled like lemons and
disinfectant.


“Honey I have a lot more to do, but we have that birthday party for the
Smith’s son at 2:00.  Would you mind taking the kids? ‘No gifts’ so I just
got him a cookie from cookie bouquet. It’s already wrapped.”


“No problem. How much more cleaning can you do, though?  House looks and
smells great already.”


“I haven’t even touched organizing the play room or your study.”


*Crap, I got rid of the can last night, didn’t I?!* I thought to myself.
 On the outside, I said,
“You’ve done enough sweetie, there’s no point going upstairs. You know how
I organize our files, and the boys playroom will stay organized and clean
for about 5 minutes- max.”


“I’m on a roll and not stopping, hon.  But if you’re worried about the
house being too clean… We can make a big mess in our bedroom tonight
-MeeMaw wants the kids to spend the night!” she said, snuggling up for a
kiss.


“Mmm, and its been awhile since this got any attention,” I said, squeezing
her bottom.


“Down boy! You’re right, but first you have to go to a Batman party.” She
said with a smirk and gave me a little squeeze of her own.


I high-tailed it up to the study and doubled checked that I’d thrown the
can away. Whew!


Then off to the Batman party. I felt sorry for the guy dressed up as
Batman. Somehow the dark knight making balloon animals just seemed a little
sad.  But the kids had fun, and did the usual small talk with all the other
dads, all of whom were equally miserable. Kids were excited to spend the
night with MeeMaw, and I was excited they’d be spending the night with
MeeMaw too!


On the way home I went over in my head possibilities for tonight. Go out?
Cook at home?  Weird… Lauren always answers the phone, but she
hadn’t when I called on the way to MeeMaw’s and wasn’t answering now
either. Irritating.


***


“Honey? What’s going on?  Why aren’t you answering your phone? You know
that’s one of my pet pee-“


“I’m in here.” She called out from our bedroom.


“Oh, you were in the shower -got it- hey wait, that mustve been an awfully
long shower! I called you almost an hour ago!” I yelled to the other end of
the house.


“I know. I didn’t answer because I was angry.” She hollered back.


*Dammit-What now?! Did she not appreciate that I’d just suffered through
not just a preschool birthday party but her mom’s 20 minute conversation
about Aunt Sarah too?!*  I made my way to our bedroom and stopped short
when I saw her. Nude, she still took my breath away. Her gorgeous hourglass
figure shimmered.  The setting sun’s light coming in through the window
caught the drops of water covering her body. My eyes were drawn
involuntarily to her dark triangle and then her breasts wobbling as she
towelled off her hair. What was I irritated about again?


But when I looked up, her smile was missing.


“I didn’t answer your calls because I was angry. I’m not angry anymore but
we need to talk.” She said calmly.


*Uh-oh.*


“Care to explain this?”


She handed me a swiffer with some dust bunnies and lots of little brown
specks stuck to it.


*Uh-oh.*


“Those look like dip flakes sweetie but they’re pretty old and dry. When
was the last time you cleaned the study?” Notice how I didn’t deny it but
tried to parry the implied accusation?


“Nice try.  I cleaned it in January… AFTER you quote quit.” She said,
making air-quotes with her fingers as she went back into the bathroom. .


She returned and had put on her robe and was carrying her hairbrush.


*Uh-oh. *


She sat down on our bed and patted it just beside her, indicating she
wanted me to take a seat as well.


“I’m not going to ask you to explain yourself. You’re just going to dig a
bigger hole for you to have to crawl out of.  But don’t interrupt me.  I’ve
been practicing what I want to say in my head.  While I was in the study,
and after I’d calmed down a bit I looked up quitting nicotine on the
computer. Turns out the average quitter is successful on their sixth
attempt to quit. This is your third time, but you’re above average,
right?  Ah- don’t interrupt.
 Also read that an occasional slip up is fairly common and doesn’t
necessarily  mean that the effort to quit has been in vain. Look I want to
do everything I possibly can to encourage you.  This is a big deal.  I
want you sitting on the rocking chair on the porch with me when we’re
old and wrinkly, and you won’t make it to old and wrinkly unless you
quit. So I’m going to give you a spanking, and it’s gonna be a good
one.”


“Wait, I-“


“Ah-  what did I say about interrupting? My mind’s made up but I
really want you to hear me out.  This is not a punishment spanking,
but an encouraging one. We don’t do punishment spankings- well, except
for that time I got too drunk at that wedding- but I want to help you,
help us, win this battle. I want for the spanking to be bad enough
that the next time your tempted to backslide, your backside will
scream ‘No!’ So… Now you get to talk. Do you have anything to add?”


“Not really. Sorry sweetie. Yup, I was guilty of backsliding, as you
called it. And I don’t want to again. ”   I thought about arguing or
getting out of it, and I probably could have, but truthfully I really
wanted to quit, and probably deserved this as punishment but if she
wanted to call it encouragement, so be it.


“Alright then, honey, come on.” I stood in front of her and let her
undo my belt and pants, pulling them down. As she pulled my underwear
down too, I had my natural reaction to an upcoming spanking and her
face positioned just in front of my crotch.  I couldn’t resist; “But
why not encourge me with a carrot instead of a stick?”


“Oh honey,” she said grabbing me, “there’ll be plenty of time to have
some fun with your carrot later. First though, it’s over my knees you
go.”


Her bathrobe parted, and her thighs were still a bit damp as she
adjusted me a little.


SMACK SMACK SMACK!


She started awfully strong. “Hey, what happened to a warm up?!”


“This [SMACK] is [SMACK] a warmup. I’m not using the hairbrush yet.”


On and on the “warmup” continued. Rapidly it became hot and
uncomfortable, then outright started to really hurt.  Before too long,
she picked up the hairbrush and continued at the same pace. I was
tensing and groaning with each searing spank. She didn’t lecture, but
told me in a soothing voice how much she loved me and how she knew I
could do it but just SPLAT wanted SMACK to give me SMACK WHACK all the
CRACK encouragement WHAP she could.


Usually our spankings were given with the spankee naked, and it was
kind of different to have my boots still on and my jeans around my
ankles. It meant I couldn’t really kick, just took it and took it and
took the pain some more. (With lots of growling and gripping the
bedspread so tight my knuckles were white thrown into the mix too.)


Finally she relented, and patting my butt told me to get up and take
off my clothes. Carrot time? I wondered.


“Up on the bed. On your knees, I want your face down on the pillow.”
Guess not.  She fondled my bottom, poked a couple of bad spots, then
using her nails and then a finger moistened in her mouth fondled and
teased my whole throbbing bottom, even my bottom hole.
I just groaned feeling the mixture of pleasure, pain, and relief that
she wasn’t inflicting even more pain.


“You know, I think just a little more encouragement is needed where I
missed some spots here, here, and right in here too,” She said, ever
so sweetly, “stay put, honey, I’ll be right back!”


And she was, carrying the long thin wooden kitchen spoon.


“I’m getting a little warm with all this encouragement,” she said,
shucking her bathrobe, and hopping on the bed in front of me. She
spread her knees and crawled toward me, tantalizing me but then kept
going past my head until she was straddling my back on her knees.


“Now, where were we? Oh yeah, we were encouraging all of your bottom
not to be tempted to dip again.  Even these parts of your bottom
[snap, snap] and these parts [snap, snap!] And even this little cute
part right [snap!] here!”
Each little strike was intense and stung as she got the insides of my
cheeks and thighs. In my current position I couldn’t even really tense
up and avoid them easily. Over and over again the little snaps of the
spoon stung my tender parts until I was on the verge of tears. Just
when I truly. Could not take any more, she sat down on my back.
“Okay honey, do you think your bottom will be screaming ‘NO!’ the next
time your tempted?”


“Yes” was all I could groan in response.


“Let’s make double sure!” And then she proceeded to spank me all over
with rapid-fire blows of the spoon that did send me over the edge to
tears.


Next thing I realized, she had scooted up in front of me again, her
legs still spread.


“Honey, I love you, and I had to do that for you, and for us.”


She leaned over and wiped my tears and kissed my face and rubbed her
hand in my hair.


“It’s almost time to take care of your carrot, but first, before we
finish this, let’s give those healthy lips some exercize.” She said
with a smile, pulling my face toward her.


My lips (and my carrot) got plenty of exercize that night. I can’t say
that I’ve QUIT dipping- I now think it’s more of a lifetime struggle
against temptation, but it’s been a couple more months now and so far,
so good. At least I have my loving wife there to “encourage” me when I
need it!