The session last Sunday, when the Punishment Book was brought out, had a painful start with the paddle. After 80 sharp whacks and some time spent ironing clothes, I was sent upstairs and told to prepare for the cane and crop.
When my wife finally arrived in the bedroom I was facing the corner with my hands on my head. I heard her move about the room and then turned to face her, when I was told to do so. She was dressed in a black body (the ones where the fastening is at the crotch) and tights and pumps. To say that she looked stunning was an understatement.
“So Michael, we should continue I think.”
She picked up the riding crop from the bed.
I nodded and bowed my head, whilst she carried on speaking.
“I have added up that there are at least 50 strokes with the cane, 30 strokes with the crop, 50 strokes with either and then an unknown punishment for mooching around after women in short skirts. I am uncertain what I should do about that entry in the book. I admire you for owning up to your perverted behaviour but I am not sure I want to be married to someone who behaves like that.”
My wife had been walking around me all this time, prodding and tapping my body with the tip of the crop. As she reached the end of the scolding she slashed the crop across the front of my legs and I jumped with startled shock.
“If we could find that woman you were letching after I would make you apologise. As it is I will just have to make sure that you never do that sort of creepy thing again.”
I stood still and quiet, as there was nothing to say.
She placed the tip of the crop under my chin and used it to raise me head until I was looking straight at her.
“You will not be doing that again, will you?”
“Put your hands against the wall and push your bottom out. I am going to whip you until I feel like stopping. That will take care of everything except 80 cane strokes, which will stay in the book for another day. Once I have finished with you I want you to get my little friend out and go the spare room. I don’t want to see you until the morning. Is that understood?”
“Yes ma’am.” I got myself in position and waited. She flicked the leather tab of the crop teasingly over my back, bottom and then in between my legs.
When she started the whipping I new she meant business. I could hear the whizz of the crop as it flashed through the air behind me and crackled across my bare bottom. Don’t as me why, but the sensation and pain of being thrashed like this go straight to place in my head where I experience a mixture of pleasure and fear.
By stepping back and lowering my head, I was actually pushing my bottom out to try and invite the strokes.
Patiently and carefully my wife beat me across the backs of my legs and my bottom. I entered that space where I became numb to the pain. It was enjoyable but there was a sense that I deserved what I was getting so that made it endurable. Finally after many minutes she stopped and ordered me to turn around with my hands on my head.
“I hope you will remember this before you disobey me another time.”
She smacked the crop six times across the tops of legs and I flinched with each. Tapping my soft penis and balls with the tab of the crop quite hard she reinforced her message.
“There won’t be time for the cane before Christmas,” she said. “I hope you will be well behaved over the holiday or there will be more to be added. I will deal with you on New Years before we go out. It will be nice for my friends to see what a well behaved husband I‘ve got.”
I nodded in acceptance.
“Get my vibrator and make yourself scarce”
“And no touching yourself tonight, “ she commanded as I picked up the unused cane and too the crop from her hand.
“No ma’am. Thank you for taking the time to punish me.”