Two get back on the bike - Part 3

That evening in  the Glasgow hotel room  our FLR was rekindled.

When I arrived at the hotel bedroom door  there was a  Do not Disturb sign on the handle so I was obliged to knock. My wife, S, opened the door and pulled me inside by my tie. The room was darkened with the curtains drawn but the summer evening gave it a glow as light spilled around  the edges of the curtain. There were 2 candles lit on the desk in the corner. I was told that she was unhappy to have received the text asking to move the time of my return and that I might regret having changed the plan. She did not like to wait, she said.




I was told to go into the bathroom and shower quickly. I reacted speedily and put my briefcase and the parcel in the open wardrobe and tore off my clothes before shaving and washing in a hurry. When I was towelling myself dry, S threw in a pair of clean pants and told me to get into the bedroom sharpish.







She was sitting on the edge of the bed with a dressing gown on and holding the rigid plastic tube in her hands.

 "Was this the best you could do?, she asked. I expected you to bring home a tawse or something since we are in Scotland or a decent cane and what is the umbrella all about?"

"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am," I replied "it will hurt I assure you and I am sorry I could not find something more conventional but there was not a lot of time. The umbrella is a gift for you Ma'am and it was the only way I could hide the rod when I was at work."

"Enough of the excuses." she said in a cross tone. I squirmed at her anger and the butterflies raced around in my stomach.

"Well, we haven't got much time," she continued, "We are meeting Lianne and her husband at 8 for dinner and I want you on your best behaviour."

She held up a hairbrush, which I had not seen was lying on the bed by her left hand side.

"If you had got home in time I was going to give you a spanking to warm you up but that will have to wait. Get the chair and bend over the back of it."


 I watched as she picked up the plastic tube and whizzed it through the air onto the top of the mattress beside her. It made an ominous thwack and I began to wish she would just give a hairbrush spanking and that I could put the rod back in its wrapping.

I pulled the desk chair over to the open space between the bed and the window and turned it parallel to the bed and then raised my hips to go over the backrest. It was not very comfortable and my legs were stretched, trying to lever myself further forward, so that my penis was not squashed against the chair.

When I was in position S began to scold me about my attitude and behaviour and that since the last year she had been fed up living with me. She asked me what might change that?

"Regular whipping Ma'am," I replied. "I need it badly and if you would get back to disciplining me I am sure I could become a better husband."

"Well you've got me riled up enough to give it a try. Stay in position whilst we see how this gets your attention."

She whacked the plastic tube down across my pants and I yelped with the pain. It was really very sore and certainly on a par with a sturdy cane. The strokes came thick and fast, up and down my bottom, whilst I wiggled like a schoolboy and not the experienced submissive that I am. The pain on a cold bottom was intense and I hadn't had a spanking session for so long I had forgotten how to control myself.

At 10 strokes I was asking her to stop, particularly to stop the smacks across the backs of my kegs.

"I have no intention of stopping until I get to at least 50 so just take it and be quiet."

I whimpered as the caning continued and then, gradually, I began to absorb the pain and my brain reacted to the flow of endorphins. At around 20 strokes I was starting to enter the zone where the strokes themselves did not hurt and the feeling of submission took over.


 I began to imagine how S must look, wielding the cane behind me and truly dominating me once again. When I started to moan with pleasure and rub myself against the chair she stopped the beating..

"Ate you getting off on this?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Well that will have to stop. I obviously need to cane harder." She yanked my pants down in order to bare my bottom, but did it roughly and not in that slow sensual fashion that I find so exciting.

"Yes ma'am." I helped the removal of the pants by lifting my hips off the chair but they still got stuck on the end of my erection.

I saw her feet take a step back and she flicked her wrist to get the rod whizzing through the air, two or three times. I flinched and pushed my toes into the carpet to brace myself.
She started to whip me without a pause, just hard strokes one after the other, each one only seconds after the other.

I lost the sub-zone and was back to feeling that I was being beaten again. The hard strokes took over my thoughts and I lifted one foot and then the other, arching my leg trying to ameliorate the pain in some way. Nothing helped and I perched there with my bottom in the air whilst she laced my bare skin. I gave up thinking she would stop and it became clear that fifty strokes would not satisfy her. After maybe seventy she slowed down and gave my lower thighs three or four final whacks.


"That's it. Now get dressed and you had better buck your ideas up. I am going the spank you again tomorrow and the day after that. You will submit to me or you will not have a marriage. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am. I understand ma'am. Thank you for being so understanding and patient ma'am."


I struggled to me feet and when she went to the bathroom to put on her make up I stood with my back to the wall mirror over the desk to gaze upon the purple and white blotches on my bottom. I felt incredibly satisfied. This was what I needed and I was going to show my gratitude to S for getting back to discipline therapy.





"Well get dressed boy." My wife startled me and I jumped into action. I was ready in my chinos and a shirt  in a few minutes. I helped S into her dress and zipped her up.

"Fetch my silver sandals from the suitcase." As I knelt to place them in front of her she told to me to kiss her bare feet. I knelt further onto all fours  and lowered my face to the ground to place gentle kisses on each toe. 

"So are you going to serve me slave?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Well then, be good this evening and I will let you pay your dues later. If you are very good and attentive you might get the hairbrush tomorrow."

And so it had begun. A  fresh start in our long marriage.