It Works Two Ways
It
Works Two Ways
The
naked lady laying across her husband's lap was middle aged, but she
was desirable in a way that only a woman her vintage can be. She
took care of herself, remaining basically slim and toned. Still, the
years had rounded her lines in a pleasing way, plus childbirth had
spread her hips, arguably enhancing the lines of her bottom. To her
husband, “straight arrow” Sam, the effect was forever arousing.
In her present position, bottom-up over Sam's lap, you couldn't see
that her belly was still remarkably flat and that her breasts
remained firm, but that was the truth. In short, her years had only
added to her sexiness, and to her spankability.
Married,
and totally devoted to her husband for nearly thirty years, Ethyl
certainly had the advantage of sexual experience, at least when it
came to “doing it” with Sam. In bed, Sam and Ethyl played each
other's bodies like first-chair musicians.
But
today, Ethyl wasn't across Sam's lap for a mere “slap & tickle”
session or for foreplay: No, she was there to be punished! Ethyl
had been careless with their banking, resulting in bounced checks.
She recognized her guilt and had been the first to suggest that she
had earned a spanking.
Using
only his hand as always, Sam commenced to deliver the expected
punishment.
Ethyl's
spanking progressed in the way that spankings do. Her bottom first
showed overlapping red handprints, as she squirmed and gasped under
his corporal attentions, and then he carefully and lovingly spread
out his spanks until he achieved a uniform and quickly deepening
blush across her entire nether region. By then, the lady was
shedding real tears.
Ethyl
knew that her husband would be aroused, he always was when he spanked
her. As she bounced on his lap, she could feel the evidence of his
arousal jabbing her in the lower abdomen.
Finally,
Ethyl's spanking progressed to what Sam called the “loud part”.
That was when he was firmly holding her as he delivered the last and
the hardest spanks to her bouncing bottom, and her cries were loud,
frantic and truly beyond her control. Some spankings were harder and
longer than others, but Sam always knew when the lesson had been
learned, and when to end the punishment. He always spanked her
bottom red, but he was never severe with his cherished wife.
-------------------------
When
Sam and Ethyl had been a young couple contemplating marriage, they
had decided that theirs would be an “old fashioned” marriage.
They both envisioned Sam as the head of their household, but not as a
dictator. Instead, Sam and Ethyl would be nearly equal partners,
except that Sam would have the “tiebreaker” vote if, after
suitable discussion, they couldn't agree. That way they both would
have input in big decisions, and each had a right to have his or her
viewpoint heard and suitably considered by the other. It's just that
Sam would have the final “say so” if they couldn't reach a mutual
compromise. But as it turned out, Sam and Ethyl were such reasonable
folks that there had never been a need for him to exercise that
authority.
Both of
them came from spanking families. In the early days of their
relationship, (pre-Internet) they had come across a copy of Dorothy
Spencer's “Spencer Spanking Plan”. They read it, and it seemed
reasonable
to them both. Yes, it called for either partner to punish the other,
but Sam was such a “straight arrow” that he had little concern
about his ability to follow reasonable household rules, and therefore
no concern about actually being spanked. Besides, Sam was a few
years older than Ethyl, and the more mature partner.
Anyhow,
over the next three decades Sam occasionally spanked Ethyl, but the
reverse never happened. Ethyl's spankings were infrequent, but she
always agreed that those spankings were fair. Following the Spencer
rules, Sam spanked only with his hand. There is no need for modesty
in marriage, so Ethyl was always spanked nude, while Sam remained
dressed to underline that this was punishment, not sex.
Sam
would have liked to deny it, but part of him enjoyed performing this
occasional corporal duty. Since evidence of his arousal was
embarrassingly obvious, he and Ethyl had forthrightly discussed the
issue. Even Ethyl admitted to her own spanking-related arousal, but
it was different for her. Ethyl honestly dreaded her spankings and
tried to avoid them, but her arousal always came post-spanking.
Sitting in Sam's lap with a freshly-spanked bottom, luxuriating in
his love, forgiveness and aftercare, she always became unusually
passionate once her tears dried.
After
spanking his wife, Sam would always be left internally seething with
desire, but he would abstain from any advances until she had indulged
in her post- spanking cry, her tears had dried and her bottom-sting
had somewhat faded. After that, he could depend on Ethyl to make the
first move.
-------------------------
Back at
the spanking chair, Sam had finally spanking Ethyl.
Sam had
spanked her still-firm bottom until she was crying those special
cries that told him he should end the punishment. But then it took
her several moments to realize that it was truly over. By then, Sam
was rubbing her back and cooing softly into her ear. He held her on
his lap until her crying slowed, paused to let her get over her
hiccups, and then finally, tenderly, helped his darling up. As
always, she climbed into his lap and embraced him to indulge in a
final crying jag. As he held his stricken but quickly recovering
wife, he struggled to tamp down his own arousal.
When
she finally stopped crying they shared words of mutual forgiveness,
and then the tension between them was gone.
She
didn't always do this, but tonight it felt right; she slid off of his
lap, knelt between his legs, opened his zipper, and fished out his
rigid manhood. He gasped in delight as she gave it several wet
kisses. Finally, impulsively, she twirled her tongue around it
several times. He lifted himself from the chair, gasped, and then
warned her to stop! As great as it would feel let her get him off,
he had plans involving her and their bed. It wouldn’t be fair to
either of them for him to lose his “mother load” prematurely.
So he
led her into the bedroom, somehow undressing himself in the process.
They flopped onto the bed, and neither gave foreplay a moment's
thought, going straight to the “main event”. As typocal after
one of Ethyl's spankings, their lovemaking was explosive.
-------------------------
There
had been nothing particularly notable about Ethyl's spanking that
evening. Her spankings weren't frequent, but over the last thirty
years of their marriage there had been dozens. So this was neither
the first time that her “straight arrow” husband had spanked her,
nor was it destined to be the last. It had been a spanking that
Ethyl had unquestionably earned, and one that Sam had lovingly and
firmly delivered. These spankings secured the fabric and foundation
of their marriage, so neither partner wished to end them.
“Straight
arrow” was a defining characteristic of Sam's personality,
encompassing both his personal life and his career. Because he never
resorted to deception or trickery and was a man whose word was “like
gold,” he did well in business. Sam's golden reputation propelled
his climb up the ladder in his corporation. But it was a step up
that ladder that triggered an incident that was to become a memorable
milestone in Sam and Ethyl's marriage.
-------------------------
Sam's
immediate superior was retiring, and Sam was selected to fill his
shoes. At the office there had been the usual cake-cutting reception
on the man's last day, but everyone agreed to meet at a bar after
work for a more informal celebration of both that man's retirement
and Sam's promotion. Usually “straight arrow” Sam (who never
smoked and rarely drank), avoided these gatherings, but this one was
partly in his honor, so he couldn't refuse. So after dutifully
informing Ethyl that he would be home late, Sam met his co-workers at
the bar.
Apparently
the bartender misunderstood his drink order for a “very light”
rum & Coke. Sam's inexperience with drinking, remarkable for his
age, prevented him from detecting that his first drink was strong!
He had intended for subsequent drinks to be alcohol-free, but several
friends bought for the entire group, and that first drink had addled
his mind.
Perhaps
stupidly and irresponsibly, after a few drinks everyone else filtered
from the bar, leaving Sam alone. To their defense though, Sam was
quietly nursing his drink and not acting drunk. Being a “straight
arrow” he didn't want to waste an expensive drink, so he quietly
sat there until he had finished every drop. Only then did he make
his unsteady way to his car.
He
didn't remember the trip, but somehow he made it home.
-------------------------
Having
been warned that Sam wasn't coming straight home, Ethyl made a stew
to simmer until her man appeared. So she thought nothing of it when
she heard his car in the drive and then heard him at the back door.
He entered the kitchen, and at first Ethyl failed to recognize the
stiff, careful walk of a dignified drunk. She kissed him, and was
shocked by the rum fumes. His facade of normalcy cracked when the
food smells twisted his gut. He pushed his wife aside and stumbled
to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before retching into
it. Only then did Ethyl realize that her “straight arrow”
husband was dead drunk. Worse, he had obviously driven himself home!
The
rest of the evening was a trial. Sam was sick, mostly with painful
dry heaves. She couldn't share the bed with him because he
complained that her movement made him seasick. She couldn't leave
him alone, so she spent an uncomfortable night on a bedside chair.
The
following morning he was hung over, but insisted on going to work.
She fed him a breakfast of dry toast and coffee. As he ate, he
apologized several times. She kissed him goodbye with her usual
passion, but added, “Sam, we need to talk about this.” He meekly
agreed, and then left. In thirty years, this was the first time she
had ever said those words to her “straight arrow” husband,
especially in that tone of voice!
-------------------------
All
morning, Ethyl stewed about what to do with Sam. Should she just
accept his apology and leave it at that? No! This was too serious.
Obviously he could have killed himself, wrecking their car in the
process. Besides the horror of losing the man she loved, that would
leave her without support and without transportation. Hell, he could
have killed some innocent person! So she had to take action,
dramatic action! But what?
Strangely,
it was almost noon before she remembered that old document that was
supposed to regulate their marriage. There might be some ideas
there!
It took
a search, but she found it with their wedding memorabilia under their
old picture album. It was a few yellowed mimeographed sheets titled
“The Spencer Spanking Plan”. Attached to it was a handwritten
list of rules that the couple had agreed to three decades ago. High
on that list was, “No drunk driving”.
Her
memory was correct, the “Plan” did indeed call for the spanking
of either spouse: “Men are to be whipped. A light leather strap,
a wooden paddle or ruler can be employed to administer the punishment
with. Wives must use extreme care, however, not to cut the flesh,
raise welts or injure the recipients in any way.”
Looking
further, Sam had signed the documents. Being a “straight arrow”,
Sam had surely read carefully anything that he had affixed his
signature to. If he signed it, it meant he had agreed to it.
Further, as a matter of principle, it meant that he would abide by
its every word. Still, he might need some reminding!
That
left two questions on Ethyl's mind, 1) Did Sam remember that their
“Spencer” contract worked two ways? And, 2) Was he thinking
about it?
Different
scenarios ran through her mind. As she perused the old document, it
became increasingly clear to her what must happen. For the first
time ever, it would be her responsibility to redden her husband's
bottom. Would Sam give in easily? Would he need convincing? Or
might he insist on being punished?
-------------------------
That
afternoon, Sam arrived home from work as usual. His mood was serious
and morose. Ignoring the set supper table, he hugged his wife and
sat her down in the living room. Holding her gaze, he announced,
“You said we should talk. Well, I suppose I deserve whatever you
are about to say. So I'm listening”.
Ethyl
didn't hold back! First, she reminded him of how much she loved him
and what he meant to her. And then she painted a word picture of how
dismal and empty her life would be if he had died in a drunken car
wreck. She explained that it wasn't the drunkenness itself that was
the problem, but that he had driven drunk! Why not call a cab?
Finally,
she handed him the yellowed old document with the list of
hand-written rules that the couple had crafted together so many years
ago. She pointed to one rule in particular, “Would you read that
please Sam?”
His
ears reddened as he recognized the document. Obediently he read, “No
drunk driving.”
“Did
you break that rule Sam?”
He
nodded morosely as he perused the document and the accompanying
rules. To enforce those very rules, he had spanked Ethyl many times.
Now he was remembering that those rules worked both ways.
He saw
the words that he had agreed to: “From this date on it is my
wish to have my conduct regulated by the enforcement of these
doctrines. I give my wife, therefore, the full right to whip me
whenever she feels such discipline would prove helpful and be in
accordance with the spirit of the Spencer Plan.
I promise to cooperate with my wife
faithfully in carrying out this agreement. I will get ready for the
punishment promptly when asked to do so and I will bear my wife no
ill-will for so disciplining me.”
He
understood that he had, for the first time ever, given his wife cause
to spank him. Further, sensing the trajectory of this conversation,
it was clear that she planned to do just that!
But
then he saw one passage that seemed to provide a way for him preserve
a precious bit of his male dignity: “I also promise to ask for
whippings when I feel I need or deserve them.”
Immediately,
Sam knew what to do, “Ethyl, I've decided that I deserve to be
punished. Before this festers any further, will you please do that
now? And I mean do it mercilessly until you've paddled or whipped my
bottom bright red until I'm howling for mercy! Will you do that for
me? Please?”
New
tears formed in Ethyl's eyes, and she almost sobbed with relief that
she wouldn't be faced with the problem of convincing Sam that he must
be spanked.
“Yes
Sam, I'll do that. At least, I'll give it my best shot.”
They
embraced tightly. Each could feel the other's emotion and hear the
other's furious heartbeat. They hugged for a long moment. Finally,
after a quick kiss he held his woman at arm's length and spoke
decisively, “Okay, I'll close the curtains and get undressed.”
As she
watched, he closed the curtains over their picture window, kicked off
his shoes, and then methodically undressed. His ears reddened again
as his thumbs hooked the elastic of his briefs.
As Sam
stood naked before her, she reflected that although he was no Adonis,
her man remained a desirable specimen, even at nearly fifty.
He
looked at her questioningly, “Err, should I fetch our spanking
chair or do you want me in some other position.”
She
produced a familiar heirloom hairbrush that she had earlier concealed
under a newspaper. It was the brush that his parents had used on his
bottom back in his childhood, but had lain idle for nearly forty
years.
He
smiled tightly when he realized that his wife had hidden that old
brush with the full expectation of using it today. “Oh well” he
thought, “At least it isn't a belt”.
“Nicely
played,” he said with admiration, “I guess that means we will
need The Chair?”
Now
that the moment was near, her voice betrayed her nerves, “Yes Sam,
The Chair please.”
“The
Chair” normally graced their mud room. A sturdy armless chair of
indeterminate age, its worn gray paint hinted at an institutional
history. Most visitors would assume that the old chair was there
simply to provide a handy perch for pulling on boots, but Sam and
Ethyl knew better. Early in their marriage they had found it in a
second-hand store, and had purchased it primarily to fulfill its
corporal function.
Sam
disappeared just long enough to fetch The Chair. He placed it in the
center of the living room, their usual spanking venue.
Fully
dressed in slacks and blouse, Ethyl took her unaccustomed place on
the spanking chair, placing the brush within easy reach.
Automatically, Sam moved to her right thigh. “I don't know how I'm
going to act,” he admitted nervously, “but if I beg you to stop
just keep on spanking. My spanking isn't over until you say it's
over. Drunk driving is serious, so I deserve a butt-buster of a
spanking.”
“I'm
determined to do just that,” Ethyl promised, “so let's get you
into position.”
Awkwardly,
Sam laid across his wife's lap. He was heavy, but she could bear it.
After some adjustment, and an order for Sam to grip the chair legs,
she looked down at her husband's white ass-cheeks with professional
interest.
-------------------------
Although
Ethyl had been happy that Sam effectively sentenced himself to this
spanking, she felt that she must now establish a new, and uneasy,
temporary dynamic. After thirty years of Sam being the lead partner
in their marriage, it was time to temporarily, but emphatically, swap
roles with him. For the next few minutes Ethyl must establish herself
as indisputably in charge.
So she
decided to set expectations, “Sam, are you listening?”
“Yes
ma-am”.
Except
in jest, he had never called her “ma-am” before. This time he
clearly wasn't jesting. She took that as a good sign.
“Here's
the deal Sam. For the duration you will grip those chair legs, and
stay in position across my lap. I'll do this spanking my way, and
you should expect 'my way' to be painful and unpleasant. Like you
said, this spanking isn't over until I say it's over. Do we agree so
far?”
“Yes
ma-am”.
“Good
Sam, good! And now the important part. Once your spanking is over,
once the sting subsides, this issue is settled. You won't be angry
that I roasted your bottom, and I'll forgive your drunk driving. Is
that a deal?”
“Yes
ma-am, that's totally fair.”
“Hang
on tight then Sam, because time is wasting!”
-------------------------
Now
that she had Sam over her lap and ready, Ethyl felt it imperative to
totally “take charge” of the situation, meaning that this
spanking would be totally on her terms. Well, she surely knew Sam's
spanking routine on a very personal basis, so hers would be
different! She assumed that Sam would expect her to begin like he
did, but her plan was different.
Ethyl
raised her hand and brought it down smartly … to the middle Sam's
right thigh. Then, totally ignoring his buttocks, she quickly
started raining medium-force spanks all over his thighs! The
surprise and pain took his breath away, but then he bellowed in
indignant outrage, “Ouch! Damn! You can't do that. That's not
fair!”
She
paused, her response ready, “You're honestly saying that I can't
spank your thighs? You've spanked mine!”
He
sputtered, tried to form a coherent sentence explaining how different
it was when the thigh-spanking wasn't expected and when the buttocks
weren't properly spanked first. But then he realized that the
distinction simply wasn't logical.
Almost
too quietly to be heard, he admitted, “Yes, I guess it works two
ways.”
“Then
let's continue,” Ethyl announced, before restarting the spanking,
imparting a nasty sting to his thighs while still leaving the rest of
his bottom temporarily untouched. Sam twisted and squirmed under the
assault. At one point he started to reach a hand back, but quickly
realized that his arm wasn't long enough to protect the area that
Ethyl was spanking.
-------------------------
Ethyl
knew her man! Even though he was a loving husband, Sam was a
“straight arrow”, and “straight arrows” tend to hide their
emotions. So Ethyl's goal for this spanking was more psychological
than physical. Although Sam had dutifully apologized multiple times
for his drunk driving, he had always done so dry-eyed, as though
apologizing for a bad business deal or for some minor mishap. To
ensure that Sam really forgave himself, Ethyl felt that she must
break through his stolid emotional barrier, but wished to do it with
a minimum of physical harshness. His temporary outrage was a
beginning, but now she needed to drive him to real tears. She wanted
to minimize use of the hairbrush, but was afraid that she wasn't
strong enough to hand-spank his bottom hard enough to do the job, so
that's why she concentrated her hand spanking on his tender thighs.
-------------------------
Squirming
and writhing under the assault, Sam first tried reasoning with his
wife, but quickly resorted to begging, “Honey please! Please spank
me somewhere else?” Unmoved, she implacably continued to briskly
deliver those modest, but maddeningly stinging spanks to that tender
target. Soon his entreaties morphed into incoherence. At this
point, Ethyl believed that Sam was attempting to conceal his sobs, to
make them sound like something that might be mistaken for words. She
wished that she could see if he were shedding tears, but sensed that
he was close. So it was time to switch targets.
To his
temporary relief she finally switched her attention to his buttocks
and sit-spots. On this more robust anatomy, she felt safe spanking
harder and faster. At first Sam calmed a bit, but as sting
inevitably built in this area, he again started to squirm and
vocalize.
Unfortunately,
Ethyl soon had to quit that treatment. The act of punishing her
husband's bottom was hurting her hand. To save her hand, she reached
for the hairbrush.
She
explained: “Sam, you're stronger than me, so I won't try to
restrain you. I intend to hurt your bottom with this hairbrush. If
you cooperate, this brush will only visit your ass-cheeks and
sit-spots, but if you reach back or give me any other trouble, I'll
use it on your thighs. Is that clear?”
Sam
grunted and nodded.
“Good,”
Ethyl enthused, “We're adults, so I won't scold you, but keep in
mind why you are being spanked. It's about drunk driving, something
you will never do again. Is that what you're thinking about right
now Sam?”
His
response could only be classified as an affirmative sob.
“Good,”
she said, “Then let's finish this thing.”
She
breathed deeply, raised the hairbrush high over his pink bottom, and
then let fly!
-------------------------
It had
been three decades since that hairbrush had visited Sam's bottom.
Poor Sam quickly learned that adulthood had granted him no immunity
from the sting and pain that it could bring him. Having already been
brought near his emotional limits, that hairbrush very quickly
overcame his restraint. At first he yelled “I'm sorry, I'm sorry”,
but then he simply wailed his anguish before dissolving into
unmistakable loud bawling.
To Sam
it felt like he had a blowtorch aimed at his bottom. Grimly he
gripped the chair legs and tried to ride out the pain as he bawled.
He was vaguely aware that his feet were no longer on the floor, which
meant that they were waving in the air somewhere, but the growing
sting in his bottom was a larger concern.
Sam
didn't even know when it happened, but of its own accord his right
hand must have drifted back to cover his bottom. Fortunately, Ethyl
saw it coming and narrowly avoided whacking the errant hand as it
slid between the fast-moving hairbrush and Sam's bright red bottom.
Ethyl paused, and then with flicks of her wrist, popped each of his
thighs with the brush. The blows were just enough to sting
impressively, but without damage.
Her
voice firm but not harsh, Ethyl warned Sam to keep his hands on the
chair legs. “If you do that again Sam, I won't hold back and your
thighs will hurt for days. We're almost done, so hang on and try to
ride it out.”
And
then she put that hairbrush back to work, briskly reddening Sam's
buttocks and sit-spots.
Having
been periodically spanked by Sam, and spanked as a child, Ethyl was
well acquainted with the mechanics of spanking. Also, having
inspected her own freshly-spanked bottom many times, she knew that
bottoms change color when properly spanked. But this was the first
time that Ethyl had ever viewed a spanking in progress. She was
amazed that the brush left a white spot, which almost immediately
flushed to red. And then as she spanked, those red splotches
gradually melted together into an over-all red patina. If she
neglected an area, its lighter hue served as a tattletale. Quickly
Ethyl gained confidence, but still she didn't want to overdo it. A
bright red bottom and a genuinely tearful husband were her signals to
end the spanking.
-------------------------
In a
complete reversal of their normal roles, the still-naked,
red-bottomed man sat astride his wife's lap and hugged her tight as
he cried out his last tears. When he finally regained his composure,
she handed him his t-shirt to mop his face.
“Okay
Sam,” she said in a loving voice, “You took your punishment like
a man. Now you've learned your lesson and you've earned my full
forgiveness. So now you must forgive yourself and it's time for us
to revert to our usual roles.” So that there would be no mistaking
what those roles should be, she kissed him deeply and caressed
between his legs. She felt a quick response!
Soon
their hugs, kisses, and mutual explorations became increasingly
ardent. They were still on The Chair, but never before had they done
this with her sitting and him facing her. That different gave him an
idea, a simple concept: He thought of the post-spanking “tongue
jobs” that Ethyl sometimes gave him, and of fairness and
reciprocation.
His
voice muffled by her cleavage, he remarked “You know Ethyl, this
Chair can work two ways”.
Without
further explanation, he slid down to his knees, and then lovingly
removed her shoes and stockings. With new confidence in his voice,
he commanded “Lift up your beautiful butt for just a moment.”
To her
excitement, he unbuttoned her slacks and then prized down slacks and
panties together. He pulled the bunched garments right off, kissing
each foot in the process.
“Perch
on the edge of The Chair Honey, and flaunt those sexy inner thighs for me!”
With
eager alacrity she complied, spreading her knees wide. He nuzzled
and kissed her silken thighs, teasing her, but also giving and taking
pleasure as he gradually zeroed in on his target. His hands cupped
her bottom cheeks as his tongue finally reached it's goal. Ethyl's
bare bottom bounced on The Chair as she soared towards her first
orgasm of the evening.
They
snuggled briefly, and then Sam started again.
Just as
Sam had taken Ethyl to the brink of her second explosion, he stopped
and stood. With both of them literally vibrating with desire, he led
her to the bedroom, where an evening of incandescent lovemaking
awaited them.
Sam and
Ethyl discovered that evening that Dorothy Spencer was right; domestic discipline really can
work two ways.