by Susan Joseph
Chapter Two
My eyes grew wider and wider as Matthew spoke. I suddenly realized that my husband did not intend to give me a few swats as he had before, but that he intended to give me a true spanking! I didn’t know what to say or do. My mouth was dry, and my knees were shaking. I wanted to cry, and I could feel tears stinging my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t realize… I didn’t know this was… I just… This is not what I expected,” I stammered. “I’m sorry, Matthew.”
He nodded with sympathetic understanding. “Come and lie over my lap, Frannie. I would rather not have to do this, but it is earned, and it’s my responsibility to make sure you regret your behavior.”
I hesitated when I reached him, hoping he would help me down, but he didn’t. Clearly, he expected me to submit to him. I said a little prayer, asking for strength, and put myself over Matthew’s thighs. He slid me forward, and then asked me to give him my right hand. I did, and he held it to my side. He wasn’t being rough with me. In fact, he was being as gentle as he could be, and I knew that this was hard on him, too.
“I’m going to hold you like this to keep you from reaching back to protect your bottom, Frannie. This spanking will sting, and it’s only human for you to try and stop me. I don’t want to run the risk of spanking your hand and injuring a finger. Try to be a good wife, and take your spanking well.”
I was truly a bit frightened. Not of Matthew… I knew he wouldn’t ever hurt me in a harmful way, but I knew this spanking was going to be very different from the ones he’d given me before. I knew it would sting, but the first spank was even worse than I thought it would be, and I quickly learned that my jeans had protected my delicate skin even more than I realized. I cried out, and gasped when the second spank landed pretty much on top of the first one. Matthew spanked that same cheek five times before moving to the other side and spanking five more times. Surely ten would be enough, I thought. It was more than double any spanking he’d given me previously, and on the bare, too!
“Those ten were for swearing, Mary Frances. If there is a next time, you will get twenty for each word.” Matthew sounded grim, and I was stunned by the realization that this particular spanking wasn’t over yet! This was much worse than I bargained for, and I was wishing I could go back to earlier in the day and make the right decision. I certainly had no right to swear and be angry with Matthew because I didn’t obey him!
“I’m so sorry, Matthew. Please don’t spank me anymore,” I pleaded with him. “My bottom is stinging so much already.”
“It is going to sting a lot more before we are through, Mary Frances. Aren’t you sorry now that you earned extras by stalling and refusing to do as you were told?” The question was rhetorical, and it was a very good thing Matt didn’t expect me to reply. He was already spanking me again, and it hurt!
“Ow. Ow. Oh stop! Please, honey. I’m so sorry!”
“You spoke to me disrespectfully, Frannie. That is not the way we will talk to each other in this marriage. We will remember that we love each other at all times. There is a right way and a wrong way to express upset with each other, and you chose the wrong way today.” He emphasized his scolding words with a barrage of spanks to my bottom and upper thighs. I could not believe this was happening to me.
“Matthew, this is not fair!” I complained. “You did not warn me to expect a spanking like this!” When he ignored my protest and continued to spank, I kicked my legs and tried to get away from him. “You are hurting me!”
“Your disrespectful behavior hurt us,” he sounded disappointed. “Disrespect is a bad habit to get into, and I hope this spanking makes a lasting impression.”
“I promise it has!” I was growing more and more desperate. My poor bottom was screaming and each successive spank made the burning worse. “I’m sorry, Matthew. I was wrong to speak to you like that.”
“Will you show me that you intend to do better?” he asked quietly.
I was only too eager to promise that I would. Little did I know what he meant that first time he used those words.
“You will count these next ten spanks, then, Frannie, and I will know you are sincerely sorry.”
I’d never had to count during a punishment from my parents, and part of me wanted to refuse… but I realized that Matthew would likely think I wasn’t ‘sorry’, and he could decide to spank me even more, and still make me count the ten afterwards. At this point, I wanted to spare my posterior as much as possible. Each spank was a torment. I do have to say that Matthew was patient with me. He gave me time to call out each number before he spanked again. We finally made it to ten, and I thought we were all done. Wrong.
“Now we need to deal with your disobedience, Mary Francis. People who love us took the time and money to buy us wedding presents. I look around this kitchen and I see that you are using all of these gifts… and yet, you don’t seem to think it is important to sit down and write out thank you notes. I hoped that if I asked you specifically to get this task done today, you would obey me. Instead, you did as you pleased with no thought to my wishes.”
“I will do the thank you notes tonight, Matthew. I promise.” How on earth I was going to sit down to write them was a matter to ponder, but I fully intended to make the effort. I didn’t want Matthew to spank me again. “Please give me another chance to show you that I can still get them done today…”
“I’m sorry, Frannie. You’ve procrastinated long enough that you need some serious incentive. I think another ten spanks right where you sit should be ample to encourage you to get these thank you notes done, and another ten to remind you to obey me in the future.”
Twenty more! I was positive I wouldn’t sit again… ever. Matthew didn’t seem to mind that my cries of pain were getting louder or that I was crying. He gave me the twenty spanks, right where I sit, and then he stood me up. When I turned to run to our bedroom and have a good cry and a pity party for myself, he grabbed my hand and prevented me from leaving.
“We still have the ten extra you earned, Mary Frances.”
“Oh no!” I begged him. “Please, Matthew. This is all so new to me. Not this once… I will know better the next time…” I didn’t intend for there to be a next time. I truly didn’t, but don’t all repentant wives say the very same thing?
Matthew shook his head. “When you earn extras, Frannie, you will always get them. I won’t relent on this, no matter how much your bottom is hurting. Extras are always up to you. If you choose to argue or disobey during a punishment, then you will get extra spanks on top of what you earned. Bring me a wooden spoon,” he ordered gently, and when I opened my mouth to protest, he warned, “Arguing at this point, Mary Francis, will earn you ten more extras. A wooden spoon, now, please.”
I was wise enough to be quiet. I fetched a wooden spoon, and did my best to get the smallest one. If Matthew realized what I intended, he didn’t let on. He accepted the spoon from my hand with a polite ‘thank you’, and then got to his feet. He took my hand and led me to the kitchen table.
“Bend over, honey, and we’ll get this over with quickly.” I had the feeling that Matthew was hurting, too. His voice sounded hoarse, and through my tears, I thought I saw tears in his eyes, too. The fact that he wasn’t enjoying this punishment either, gave me the courage to do as he asked.
I held my breath, and bent over the table, presenting my red bottom for more correction. The wooden spoon was very stingy, and all ten spanks were directly to my sit spot. When the spanking was over, Matthew held me in his arms and told me he loved me. I was not, however, permitted to rub my bottom, or ease the effects of the spanking in any way. When the oven timer beeped, I had to pull up my clothing and serve dinner as usual, and sit on my chair as though nothing was wrong. I was thankful for the soft cushions on our chairs, but even then, sitting was extremely difficult. I was determined not to earn another spanking.
After the dinner dishes were all done, Matthew reminded me that I was to get started with the thank you notes. I
did not relish the thought of sitting to do them, and asked if I might do them the next day since my bottom was hurting. My husband promptly made my bottom hurt even more, and once I was stinging furiously and crying my heart out, he took the pillow from my chair and did not permit me to pull up my clothing. I had to sit there with my jeans and panties down around my ankles, my very well spanked bottom next to the wooden surface of the chair. Matthew did, however, sit at the table with me, and when I couldn’t think of a nice way to thank his Great Aunt Matilda for the ugly ceramic chicken, he made suggestions that made us laugh until we were holding our tummies.
It only took three hours to finish all of the notes, and Matthew promised he would take care of mailing them on Monday morning. I was relieved to be allowed to get up from the chair. Matthew told me to go and take my shower and get into bed. I hoped he would join me in bed, and issued an invitation. To my amazement, I learned that making up after a spanking is special indeed. Matthew took great pains to let me know he loved and cherished me, and I promised him that I would try to be the best wife in all of the world.
The next morning we went to Mass as usual, sitting with my parents in ‘our’ pew, and out to breakfast afterwards. I was surprised that while my bottom was a bit tender in spots, there was no lasting damage to my seat. Matthew took me shopping at WalMart after we said goodbye to my parents, and he purchased a solid wooden spatula. He bade me place it in the ceramic jar with my other utensils, but it only had one purpose… adding extras to any spanking I earned.
Over the next couple of years, Matthew worked diligently to help me be a good wife. When he learned that I got a speeding ticket and hid it from him, I was spanked for speeding and endangering my life and other’s lives…. I was spanked for hiding the ticket…. And I was spanked for not managing my time in a better fashion, and leaving late for my appointment. When I wrote one too many checks and bounced our checking account, I had to give up my spending money until all the fees and the check was paid back… and of course, he gave me a spanking. I earned extra spanks with almost every spanking because of my stubborn temper, and Matthew was positive that purchasing the wooden spatula was a good investment. I hated it, of course, which was the whole point.
I never thought that Matthew was mean. I never thought that he was anything but loving and protective. He didn’t swear. He didn’t speed, and he certainly didn’t overdraw the checking account. When he did do something wrong, he apologized, and would spend his extra time doing something special for me… like building a bookcase. Matthew didn’t expect me to work all day in the bakery and then come home and do all the housework. He helped out, and even took a turn at cooking.
The day finally came that Matthew announced it was time to buy a house. We’d managed to save quite a bit of money, enough for a down payment… and with Matthew’s promotion and new position in another locality, he felt it was time for us to find a nice house, and perhaps start our family… if I was ready. Well, of course I was ready. I threw myself in his arms and squealed. We danced around like kids… and then, for the next several weeks, we looked for just the right house, and finally found it. It was rather large, and it needed a lot of work inside, but the structure was solid. Matthew said we had the rest of our lives to make the house beautiful, and the next few weeks were spent packing up the apartment and moving.
I had to give up my job at the bakery. It was simply too far to drive on a daily basis, and since I worked such early hours, Matthew didn’t want me driving that far in the early hours of morning… before the snow plows would have a chance to clear the roads. It would be an hour’s drive on nice days, and in bad weather, it would be a nightmare. Mr. Samuels gave me a huge bonus for all the years I’d worked for him, and to tell the truth, I was sad to leave… but it was time to move on. Matt’s new job paid more than both our salaries together from before, and he said he wanted us to concentrate on fixing up our home, and starting our family.
Our first clash in the new house was over furniture. We’d moved from a three room apartment into a ten room house. Most of the rooms were empty, and it truly bothered me. I wanted to fill each room immediately. Well, at least the downstairs rooms. The furniture from our apartment looked lost in the large rooms, and the little dinette set that served us so well in our small apartment looked like a miniature table inside the huge kitchen. I wanted to go shopping and buy new furniture even before we moved in. Matthew said that we were going to take our time buying furniture… He wasn’t about to dip into our savings. He wanted to keep that money for emergencies, and while I agreed in principle, it was hard to see those bare rooms day after day and not want to go shopping. I couldn’t resist going to a local furniture store when I saw the sign proclaiming that everything in the store was discounted. I love a good bargain, and I didn’t think it would hurt to take a peek, and get some prices to throw at Matthew.
If only I’d just looked, I wouldn’t have been in trouble. But, I looked, and I bought a dining room table and chairs. It wasn’t even our first priority as far as furniture was concerned. We’d agreed that a larger sofa would look good in the living room, and our loveseat could be moved into the family room. But, I took one look at the solid cherry dining room set, and had to have it. It was still very expensive, even on sale. Beautiful, and the china cabinet that matched was the sort of thing that dreams are made of. I spent every penny in our checkbook, and dipped into our savings, and it wasn’t until the delivery van pulled away that afternoon that reality set in. The new furniture was stunning in the dining room. It was absolutely perfect, and in my heart, I knew that Matthew would love it. I also knew that Matthew was going to be justifiably furious with me, and that I was going to have a well-spanked bottom when I confessed.
Matthew wasn’t due home for several hours. Now that he was in charge of the Optical Department, he worked longer hours, and trained new employees. That necessitated his being there longer in the evening a couple of days a week. I decided that I had to tell him what I did. I was shaking as I picked up the telephone and dialed his work number. When the receptionist answered, I told her who I was, and asked to speak to my husband. Rachel is a very pleasant woman, and she explained that Matthew was with a customer and she promised to have him call me when he was free. I thanked her, and hung up. While I waited for Matt’s call, I put a cake in the oven. It was his favorite dessert, and Lord knows I was going to need to placate him as much as possible.
I couldn’t believe I’d done something so foolish. After all, I had my own Mom and sister to use for examples. Dad’s response to Mom’s overspending was to take back whatever she’d bought. I didn’t know if he spanked her, and I didn’t really want to know. But I knew for a fact that Russ spanked my sister. I found out by accident, of course. I accidentally walked in on her in the bathroom. She was pulling up her panties, and had her back to me, and I saw the faint marks on her bottom.
“Becky, your bottom looks all sore! What did you do?” I asked curiously.
Becky blushed, and replied, “I threw a shoe at Russ, and he spanked me.”
“Oh dear! I’m sorry! Does Dad know he hits you?” I was sixteen at the time, and pretty innocent. I just knew that Dad wouldn’t permit Russ to hurt Becky.
Becky gave me a hug, and then confessed, “It’s not like that, honey. I was having a temper tantrum over something silly, and Russ gave me a spanking. He didn’t ‘hit’ me. And, if I told Daddy, he would just tell me to stop acting like a spoiled brat.”
I had to think that over for a bit, but when I saw Russ later, and the way he put his arm around Becky and hugged her, I realized that there was a difference between hitting and spanking. I knew that Matthew would never hit me… but he was certainly going to set my rear on fire… And, I deserved a punishment!
The telephone rang a few minutes later, and I knew it was Matthew. “Hi honey,” I answered the summons, my tummy doing flip-flops.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, and I could hear the worry in his voice.
&n
bsp; “How did you know something is wrong?” I asked. Let’s face it, I was putting off the inevitable for just a few more seconds.
“You don’t call me at work unless there is a problem, Frannie. So…?”
Chapter Three
“You’re going to be very angry with me, and I can’t blame you. I did something wrong.” I couldn’t sound more pathetic if I tried!
“I see. What did you do?”
“I went to that sale at Manniker’s. I was only going to get some prices for sofas… but I got sidetracked, and saw the most perfect dining room set. Oh Matthew… I bought it. It’s already delivered… and it’s beautiful, and I spent a lot of money… and you are going to give me the worst spanking ever!” I wailed, blurting out the whole story in one breath before I lost my courage.
Matthew was stunned. “How much did you spend, Mary Francis?”
It was his spanking tone of voice, and I knew I was doomed. I didn’t think of lying to him, however, and told him exactly how much I spent. He whistled. I then confessed the worst part of all, “I can’t have them take it back, Matt. All sales are final. It’s a going out of business sale. Mr. and Mrs. Manniker are retiring to Florida. I should have called you first. I know that now… but I just got so caught up, and the set is absolutely perfect. I know that you’ll love it when you get over being angry with me.”
“Mary Frances… We will discuss this when I get home tonight. In the meantime, I expect you to sit in that dining room, and write one thousand times, ‘I will not make major purchases without discussing it fully with my husband.’ You will not leave the chair until you are completely finished. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.” I paused a moment, then said, “Matthew…?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry I hurt you. I know I was wrong. I’ll take my spanking and any other punishment you think I’ve earned. I love the table, but I don’t love it more than I love you. I realized that too late… Please forgive me for being so foolish. I love you.” I was crying and trying to hide it from him.
