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Monday, 26 September 2011

Clearing the book

I woke up on Saturday, to the sounds of my wife showering and voices on her radio. I lay there thinking about the day ahead and the things that I needed to get done. After five minutes or so the water stopped running and then in another ten minutes my wife appeared at the bedroom door, make up on and wearing her short, kimono style, dressing gown. In her right hand she was holding the bath-brush down at the side of her delightfully exposed bare leg.

I said good morning and sat up.

Maybe, she replied.

Taking one of my wrists she pulled me towards the edge of the bed and told me to put my hands on the floor and keep my waist and legs on the bed. This was a novel instruction but I wriggled into position, half on the mattress and half off. She sat down beside me and started to pull down my pyjama bottoms. My erection got in the way but she was not being gentle, so it was pulled around quite a lot until my bottom was bared to her satisfaction.

Start doing push ups, she commanded

As I lowered my chin, as close to the ground as I could manage, she landed a hard smack with the brush to my right cheek. I pushed up to straighten my arms and she smacked the other cheek. I managed to do another 12 push-ups in correct military fashion and I was spanked hard twenty four times. At 15 I was starting to feel the pain in my arms, as well as the pain in my bottom, but I wanted to prove myself as well as have the spanking continue. By 18 I knew I could only manage a one or maybe two more press ups. I could feel my biceps shaking and she encouraged me with a smack across the back of one leg. Slowly I lowered myself down to the carpet for number 19 and then, even more slowly, I pushed myself back up. The next smack at the top of this cycle was fierce and I lowered myself again, earning one more smack, but that was it – I could do no more. I laughed a bit and told her so.

You had better get fit then, she said, I like this sitting down position for spanking and I also want a healthy man.

She gave me one last spank as I lowered myself and then she spanked hard across both cheeks.

Not good enough, she scolded, we will have to work at this from now on!

I rolled off the bed in a very un-gentlemanly fashion and stood up to face her, with my stiffness at half mast and my pyjamas around my ankles.

That was fun, she commented. Now go and get breakfast started. I am off to town and you have a lot to do whilst I am gone. And don’t touch that, she said, tapping my prick with the brush.

As I tidied up in the kitchen after breakfast my wife appeared to say goodbye.

You know that it is punishment book time today, she threatened? I want the Spencer paddle and the special cane ready for when I get home. I will text you when I am leaving town so you had better be ready for when I get back.

I finished through my jobs by about 2 o’clock and did some e mails and then went out to clean the car. The text message came through almost as soon as I had started so I quickly went inside to clean up, leaving buckets and sponges outside.

By the time my wife came through the front door I was standing in the study in pants and a T-shirt. My mouth was dry and my stomach was churning with that familiar mixed feeling of dread and thrilling anticipation. The spanking implements and the punishment book were in front of me. I heard my wife go upstairs and then a few moments later she was present in the room.

Bend over the chair, she instructed.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw her pick up the little book and I braced myself.
This, for me, is the most exciting time of a spanking or punishment. I am aware that I have put myself in this position and that I have no one to blame for what is about to happen. I feel overwhelming submission and although I am anticipating the feeling of pain that I am going to absorb, I also welcome the power my wife has, to control my actions in this FLR marriage.

The first stroke with the paddle was hard. She read out the entry in the book and the number of strokes. I apologised and braced my self for the first stroke. When the paddle landed it was hard and I knew that this was going be a tough afternoon. One by one, the misdeeds were read out and the paddle smacked into me, almost lifting me off my feet. After a time the paddle was put down and she picked up the cane. This is our most expensive D/S purchase so far.  The cane has an anodised silver metal handle and the business end is a long nylon wand, wrapped in leather. It is only used for punishment and it delivers a harsh message.

In a quick movement my wife pulled down my pants with one hand and told me to step out of them. When I was back in position she ran the tip of the cane up and down the inside of my legs and I shivered with the sensation, as she approached my bottom and then ran the tip of the cane back down my legs, without touching my waiting cheeks.

The next entry in the punishment book was read out and my wife started the caning.  There were long pauses between her strokes as she looked at the red lines and decided where to strike next. I had completely forgotten where we were on the tariff of 58 until I heard her relate the most recent entry, where I had argued with her about some element of our home insurance. With a sense of relief I realised that there were only 6 more strokes to go. I lifted my bottom by standing on my toes and offered her a perfect target to aim for, staying absolutely still. She took her time and delivered six amazingly hard strokes. The whoosh of the cane through the air, ominous and offering challenging pain, was something I listened out for as I tried to anticipate where the stroke would land.

As the punishment ended I lay over the chair back, enjoying both the throbbing in my bottom and her delicious dominance. The punishment book is now set to zero. I am sure that I will be writing some misdemeanour in it again, very soon. 

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