Deliverance M/F

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© Guyspencer 2010

Her naked body was bent into an upside-down “V” over her husband’s lap, her toes and her fingers digging into the carpet, her still-white bottom pushed high,reaching hungrily for the first spanks…reaching for deliverance.

This was far different from her usual spankings. True punishment spankings were relatively rare for the couple. Her usual ass-reddenings involved just enough spanking to put an urgent squirm in her bottom and perhaps a real tear in her eye, but they also involved a generous dollop of play-acting, a delicious itch in her groin, and were invariably followed by a generous helping of sex. Today, she just felt dirty and she desperately wanted to be made clean, made clean the surest and quickest way she knew how, made clean by making herself totally vulnerable, made clean by the white-hot application of a hairbrush to her bare bottom, made clean by sincere tears, and made clean by honest shrieks of soul-cleansing pain; in short, made clean by a real punishment spanking

She had confessed all to him. It had hurt her to see the look on his face when he realized the gravity of her crime. His initial angry rejection had hurt far more. Tearfully, she reminded him that their agreement assigned each of them two important, but very different, tasks in this situation. Her tasks were to honestly confess her crime and to willingly submit to her punishment. His responsibilities were to punish without fail and then, having punished, to forgive without fail. This agreement provided the ultimate “safety net” for their marriage; and today, their marriage needed a safety net like it never had before.

It took a few minutes for him to calm down enough to come to his senses, but reason eventually prevailed. She was correct, he was obligated to swallow his anger and do his “husbandly duty” towards his wife. Their discipline agreement, (made before their wedding) provided that he must punish his wife for her sin and then he must forgive her, but it did not say that the punishment must be easy nor that it must be quickly delivered.

Normally, he would take the pleasure of stripping his beautiful wife himself to prepare her for her punishment, but today she seemed too soiled for that. He told her to prepare herself for her punishment. Her rare punishment spankings did not always require her to be entirely bare, but she knew without asking that today everything must come off. Without the slightest hesitation, she complied. Moments later, she was tearfully standing in front of her husband, wearing only her wedding band. Unable to meet his eyes, she stared down at the floor. “We both need some time to calm down and think about this” he explained, “so you can expect a very long corner session. I don’t want to hear a word from you unless I address you, you may only leave the corner for quick, urgent, bathroom breaks; understand?” She nodded sadly. He placed a hard wooden stool in a corner of the living room. He kissed his wife on her wet cheek and motioned her into the corner.

A full four hours passed without one word being said in the couple’s apartment. All that could be heard was the occasional sob issuing from the corner. They missed lunch, but neither noticed. She slipped out of her corner once for a quick bathroom break, and then quickly and silently returned to her assigned place. Reminded of her physical needs, he wordlessly offered her a glass of cold water and then motioned her eyes back into the confines of her corner.

Finally, she heard the scrape of a chair being pulled from under the dining room table and a thump as the chair landed somewhere behind her in the middle of the living room. He softly called her name, and she turned around to find him sitting in the chair, sitting in the chair where her punishment was obviously going to take place. He motioned for her to come. Obediently she came, her hands behind her. Perhaps she was rubbing her bare bottom cheeks as she walked because of the long hours on the hard stool, or perhaps it was because of the spanking she was expecting to momentarily receive, but her innocent gesture made such a darling sight that he had trouble keeping a smile off of his face.

He pointed to a spot three feet in front of his chair and she obediently stopped exactly there, looking at the ground and choking back tears. “Look in my eyes” he ordered. What followed was a sad, quiet, scolding that nearly brought the lady to her knees. Several times he had to stop so she could regain her composure. She expected that her spanking would immediately follow her lecture, but was badly disappointed when he directed her back to the corner. She had no way of knowing, but her husband’s recitation of his hurt had re-aroused his anger, he needed a bit more time to collect himself to ensure that she was safe from his temper.

She was to wait for deliverance from her guilt for another full hour. Never before had the lady wanted so badly to be spanked, spanked long and hard; anything that would deliver her from her overpowering guilt and place her back into the loving arms of her husband. For that entire 60 minutes, he sat in the chair watching his wife, enduring her constant sobbing. Finally he spoke, “bring me the hairbrush.” Relieved that her deliverance was finally at hand, she literally jumped up and dashed into their bedroom to retrieve their “special” hairbrush from the small drawer in the top-right side of their dresser. A moment later, the naked lady anxiously stood in front of her husband and handed him the feared brush. “Do you need to pee first?” he asked. She shook her head. “Do you have anything to say before we start?” Her chin quivered as she tried three times to talk. Finally she got it out: “I…I…I just want to say how sorry I am for what I did and how much I deserve this…I know it has to be really hard…I am ready, but please, please forgive me when it is over.”

He didn’t trust himself to speak. Her little speech had caused a lump in his throat, so he simply pointed to his lap. She wasted no time responding to the invitation. Never in her life did she need a spanking so badly. The lady’s anxiousness to trade her guilt for a red bottom was not lost on her husband and he did not intend to make the transaction easy for her. In spanking, like comedy, timing is everything, and the man sensed that the time was not quite right for spanking his wife. The simple act of waiting would neither add nor subtract from the soon-to-be redness of her bottom, but he calculated that increasing her discomfort with another short delay would add significantly to the effectiveness of the lesson he intended to deliver. So he waited…and waited. In her frustration, she raised her bottom high, as if demanding that he deliver the first spanks, demanding that he finally deliver her deliverance. He waited. She obstinately held her uncomfortable position until he finally saw her tremble and ultimately relax, replacing her full weight onto his lap where it belonged.

Having won that tiny battle, he tucked the brush behind him and wordlessly commenced her “warm up” spanking. With spanks finally raining down on her guilty bottom, the lady seemed at first to take no notice, simply laying there and welcoming with relief the beginning of the end of her guilt. Taking her silence as a challenge, he escalated the action earlier than he might otherwise have done, his spanks coming harder and faster. She gritted her teeth, and held her silence against the sting, wanting the first sounds of her distress to be truly from the soul. She feared that if she showed suffering too soon, there was a real danger he might take pity and spank her less, and that was the last thing she wanted. Finally, in spite of herself, her beet red bottom began to show some motion and she began to make a few involuntary grunting sounds in response to some of the harder spanks.

He paused. Knowing what was coming next, in fact welcoming what was next, she placed her right hand in the small of her back for him to immobilize. Before he could grab her wrist, she found his hand and gave it a squeeze, silently telling him that what was to come was OK with her. He squeezed back, and then grabbed her wrist tightly to keep her hand safely away from the coming action. With the same hand, he pressed down firmly to hold her torso in place. He completed his preparations by deftly swinging his right leg across the back of her knees and reaching back where he had earlier tucked the hairbrush. Once again, she gritted her teeth against what she knew was soon coming. He raised the hairbrush high and brought it down on her right buttock

She knew that hairbrush well; her parents had purchased it for precisely this purpose. She had first felt it, whilst draped across her father’s lap, at the age of thirteen. That hairbrush made the trip from her childhood to her adulthood in an unlabeled richly-wrapped gift box. At her wedding reception, her face had turned beet red when she innocently opened the package and found her old friend packed inside. All of the guests assumed that it was just a cute “gag” gift. She, and her parents, knew better; they knew that the girl sometimes needed this particular type of deliverance, and that need would not stop simply because she was now a married woman.

Amazingly, she held out in silence against the first ten horrendous spanks with that hairbrush. When the sounds finally came, they truly came from deep within her soul. As her husband continued to spank her bottom, she howled and bucked against her husband’s loving restraint. She needn’t have worried about her husband being too easy on her. He well understood that everything that it took to bring them to this particular moment didn’t really count; this was really the beginning of his wife’s spanking. For his wife, a real punishment spanking is not properly started until the spanking has progressed to the point that she was desperate for it to end. She also understood (at some level) that a spanking could not deliver true deliverance unless it progressed well beyond what she could possibly want for herself. The white-hot, cleansing, spanks must be sufficiently severe to succeed in bypassing her “self”, allowing the busy brush to sear its lesson directly into her soul. Although her man did not think of it exactly in exactly those terms, he knew that this spanking had to be something for her to remember the rest of her days. If he wanted to keep this woman, now was the time to deliver!

Now that he finally (as he thought of it) had his wife’s “full attention”, he spent another full ten minutes punishing her backside with that hairbrush. By the time it was over, she was spent, exhausted, no longer requiring her husband’s restraining leg. The removal of that leg gave him virgin territory to spank and gave him reason to spend an additional minute or two completing his grim task.

Finally, he stopped long enough to inspect his work. He took time to evaluate the condition of her bottom, observe her reactions, and carefully replay the spanking in his head to decide if he was truly done or if he still had some “touchup” work ahead of him. Finally he asked; “do you think that is enough of a lesson to ensure that you never do anything like that again?” She responded with a slightly hysterical promise of eternal perfect behavior. Satisfied that her lesson had been properly delivered and that justice had truly been done, he allowed her up off of his lap. After she recovered her balance, the lady spent the usual few moments, in dancing, in renewed crying, and in feeling her tender bottom, before crawling up into her man’s lap and throwing her arms around his neck, exactly as she had always done with her father. When she heard those loving, forgiving, words being mumbled into her ear, she smiled a tired, relieved smile and nuzzled her man.

Deliverance was finally hers.

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