Sunday, June 14, 2009

Called at work part 3, M/F, domestic

"Jack" I sobbed out, "I'm sooo sorrryyyyy!" And I tried to make it into his arms, forgetting about my lowered pants and panties, and with my normal sense of grace, totally tripping myself.

The only thing that saved me from a nasty fall was Jack stepping in and catching me, and after the drama (well, possibly drama queenish) and stress of the day, to have my husband simply holding me close, the scent of his aftershave still faint but present, was to much, and I broke down and bawled.

I realized that he had moved us without me even being aware of it to the side of our bed; he was sitting, and I was somehow sitting on his lap. We were close to my endtable, and he had leaned over and grabbed a handful of kleenex, and told me to blow. Which I did. My head was buried in that place between shoulder, neck and chest, and I finally calmed, a bit. And when I did, I shyly looked up at my husband, and repeated what I said before.

"Jack, honey, I'm sooo sorry!"

However, I was a bit taken aback by his not so sympathetic response and tone. Not mean, not harsh, but, well, firm.

Very very firm.

"And just What is it that you are so sorry about, Angela Lynn?"

And I just looked up at him with big eyes.

"Well, young lady..." and amazing as well, at how those two words, when used during one of my good girl spankings, elicited such incredibly different feelings and emotions than they did now, when I knew my loving husband was mad at me, and that I was in trouble. "...I asked you WHAT ..." and now there was a firm PAT to my bare fanny, and even though it wasn't any harder than the pats he quite often gave me, just cause, it Felt different, just like the two words 'young lady' were different now....and I squeaked, a feminine little squeak of distress. "...it is that you are sorry about, Angela Lynn?"

And another PAT, another squeak. "Well, I, you know, well, everything!"

And it was possible that the last part came out a bit shrill. After all, I had been having a very bad day.

Spank! Not a pat, or a PAT, but a most definite Spank!

And I decided that being shrill might not be in my best interest.

"Do you think you could try being a bit more specific, my dear?"

I tried, but while my explanation was a lot longer the second time around, it really wasn't any more cogent or coherent.

He sighed, a heavy type of sigh, that men so often seem to do when talking to their women.

"It doesn't seem as if you used your corner time very effectively, sweetie."

Well, he might be mad at me, I knew that, but at least he called me sweetie. Although I could feel a bit of a pout coming back at the mention of my corner time...

"I know I told you to think about everything when I told you to stand in the corner. I have a feeling, that like my sisters, you mostly just thought about how unfair life was and feeling sorry for yourself."

Now my lower lip expressed my inner pout, his words had hit Way too close to home. And the comments about his three younger sisters made me squirm as well. Jack's mom had been widowed at a young age, and Jack, the eldest, had helped her out, had been the model scout and son, and had also provided a firm masculine hand in the raising of his sisters, who were 3, 5 and 6 years younger than him.

I also knew that he had taken over the spanking of them, when the oldest had told their mother one day, when she was in Jr. High, that she was too big to be spanked and wouldn't let her mother spank her anymore, and that there wasn't anything she could do about it, and that she would dress how she wanted, see who she wanted, go where she wanted, and stay out as long as she wanted. So there.

Watching her mother flee in tears, thoughts of daughterly victory quickly fled when her mother came back with her brother, and her mom's hairbrush, in tow. And so the revolution ended. I wasn't happy that he was lumping in my behavior now, as a mature young married woman, with that of his sisters during their bratty teen years.

And also, being aware of how he had handled their misbehavior all throughout their High School adventures made me squirm.

"Also, Angela Lynn, the next time.."

Next time!? What freaking next time!? There wasn't going to BE any next time! I didn't say that then, though. That could be addressed later, once panties and pants were replaced, and Jack was in a better mood.

"... I tell you to go to the corner, that means for you to stay there, till I tell you that you can turn, or come out. If you come out again, like today, without permission, I'll remind you with another spanking, do you understand?"

"Jack!!!!" In my Most indignant tone....

"Angela. Lynn. Johnson."

Spank! (not pat, but Spank!)

" I asked you if you understood. You already have two spankings coming today, young lady..."

I know I gasped in shock at that, no, no I really didn't realize that I had more than one spanking to endure, heck,I was trying to get out of Any spanking right now!

"...would you care to make it three?"

A brief flare of common sense prevailed. "N-no dear..."

"Now, what are you sorry for? What you did? Or the fact that you got caught, and are going to get spanked?"

"NO! I-I mean, yes, I am sorry I'm going to get spanked, but I'm mostly sorry that I got in trouble in the first place, Jack. Really! And, and Jack? Um, I don't think I need to be spanked anymore, honey! I mean, I know I was wrong and everything, and between the phone call, and waiting, and the corner, I've learned my lesson, really dear! So, thank you, but I don't need you to spank me...."

My words trailed off at the look on his face, amused, stern, firm. Jack sighed, and looked into my eyes, and took over the converstion.

"Angie, my love..."

My heart fluttered a bit, even now, that he had said Angie and not the dread Angela Lynn...

"right now, it doesn't matter what you want, or don't want. There are a few things we need to go over. First, my sweet, do you remember our wedding, and our vows? The for better or worse, when I said that I would cherish, love, honor AND protect you?"

I bit my lip, nodded, and I did remember. And I remembered the smile on his face when at the end of my vows, I had mouthed 'obey' at the end...

"And do you remember when you came to me after we were married, and talked to me about your needing to be spanked, your good girl spankings?"

I flushed, still embarrassed, but nodded.

"We've worked that out, haven't we?"

I gave a happy nod now, against his chest.

"And, missy, do you remember sitting on my lap, in front of the computer, as you had me read article after article, at site after site, about domestic discipline, and head of house relationships?"

Again the nod, though less happily. I had sinking feeling where this was going....

"And do you remember how you said, and we agreed, that if there was more than one offense,or misdeed, that needed to be taken care of, that each would be worthy of a spanking?"

A more reluctant nod...

"And do you remember how you made me promise, how you said that if I really loved you, that I wouldn't let you talk your way out of a deserved punishment spanking? That you wanted me to follow through, the way that I thought the incident should be handled, all the way to the end? And that after that, we would talk, and then decide if you wanted to continue this or not?"

A VERY reluctant nod...

"Because, Angela Lynn, I certainly do, and I remember those wedding vows, and promises since. So, young lady, you will be getting your spankings today, one for the truck incidents, which I'm lumping all together, and the other for the rest of the unpaid bills. There will be more corner time. And if you act up, I don't mean crying or kicking when you are getting spanked, but if you try to fight me, or have a temper tantrum, or have problems with your mouth or language, you can expect extras. If, after a day or so, but not right after your spankings, you want to talk, and decide that you don't want this, then we can decide that then. But, for now, young lady, it's time for your first spanking..."

And with that, Jack, with no apparent further need of words from me, put me on my feet, then turned me so that I was facing to his left, and standing by his right knee, and then a BIG gasp as he ever so matter of factly simply Placed me over his lap, pinning me there firmly with his left arm in my lower back, and I know my bottom tightened up, clenching hard in anticipation.

"Your choice, sweetie, but they say it hurts worse if you tighten..." and then the first spank landed, the first hard, punitive hand spank, right across the middle of both cheeks at once, crossing the divide I was trying to hide by my continued frantic clenching...

And that first spank was quickly followed by a second and third, each of those to the fattest, fullest middle part of my right, then left bottom cheeks... and it was somewhere around there that I started to find my voice again.

Now, in the moments before the spanking started, I had made up my mind not to carry on and fuss like a school girl. I was an adult. A married woman. I had messed up. I was being spanked, no, corrected, by my loving husband, as I had so foolishly requested. So. I would accept my correction with suitable adult dignity and acceptance, no matter how painful, embarrassing, and humiliating my experience was going to be.

I let out a quiet gasp at the third spank. It would have come out sooner, but I was too busy sucking air In at the first two spanks. My bottom was still clenched tight, and I could feel my toes curling.

Four, five and six were a repeat of the first three, on the exact same damn spots, so it seemed. I have enough bottom that he really shouldn't have to spank in the same damn place, but I said nothing, although I did gasp, slightly louder now, and I started to rub my ankles together while curling my toes...

In a Prime example of be careful what you wish for because you just might get it, the next 20 or so (all right, so I lost count, happy?!) were all given, quite hard, really, to only my poor left cheek, with some of the spanks landing on the first area he spanked, and the rest spread out over the rest of the plumpness, with way too many being given to that most delicate plump underhang... and by the end, I was past sniffly, into soft quiet but most definite feeling sorry for myself crying, my bottom was no longer in a continuous clench, but was tightening and relaxing as I tried to anticipate the next spank, and my ankles and lower legs and thighs were no longer simply rubbing, but were crossing and starting to scissor.

And then he stopped, and I was thinking Oh thank you lord, thank you, as he bent, me still over his lap, but it was merely delay, not a reprieve from my sentence.

"Don't want you tearing your good slacks, now, sweetie...." and with that, he pulled my pants and panties all the way off, and dropped them, deliberately, I'm sure, in front of me. And then the spanking resumed.

Now, the next 20 or so were all on my right,and again, way too much time on my undercurve, and I began to squeal a bit, though I tried to hold it back, be brave, be ladylike, be accepting, be an adult. It was becoming much more difficult, however.

I also noticed in the background that Jack was apparently lecturing me as well, or scolding, not really sure what the difference is.

The next 2,000 or so were given right across my most delicate central divide, as well as just the underhang sit spot area.... and I was no longer making any attempt to be brave, ladylike, accepting or adult about my punishment!

My plump little rump now apparently had a mind of her own as well, sometimes both cheeks clenching, sometimes only one, then her sister cheek clenching, and sometimes they relaxed and flared wide and embarrassingly apart, showing way too much of my charms in a most non romantic moment, as well as exposing WAY too much inner cheek to his hard hard hand.

Soft ladylike crying had been replaced with childish crying, bawling, sobbing and blubbering, and yes, there is a difference between all of those.

And then, thankfully, it stopped. I just hung there, sobbing,my bottom on fire, and at the same time, was puzzled at how emotional I was, as Jack had actually, many times in fact, spanked me WAY harder and WAY longer when it was for fun, sex or role play.

But, I wasn't one who was going to look a gift horse in the mouth. So, as I said, I lay there, bawling, when I felt him lean over me, felt him stretch, as he reached for something on the endtable, and I thought about how good the lotion was going to feel...

What I wasn't prepared for were the words that came instead. "Well, Angela Lynn, I think that's enough of a warmup, it's time for Your brush, young lady...."

And craning my head frantically around, I saw that indeed, he did have MY brush in hand, he had taken it from my purse that I had set on the table by the corner where I had done my earlier penance... apparently he wanted me to remember this spanking every time I took my brush out or saw it!

Jack is a perfectionist, he always does the best job he can, in the time available, no matter what the task. And unfortunately, the hairbrush spanking I recieved was no exception from his normal, thorough, solid performance. He spanked, I bawled, flutter kicked, scissored my legs, kicked wide and high, blubbered, squealed, promised eternal goodness, pleaded for forgiveness, the whole works. If you can imagine it, I probably did it. And then it was done. Again.

I felt the brush, my wicked traitor of a brush, which had rekindled memories as well as flames that I had remembered from parental spankings in High School, rest on my bottom right in the middle, crossing my two sore, swollen cheeks, right at the plump part that if spread would reveal my puckered little anus.

And I could feel it sort of rise in rythmn to the swelling and rushing of my pulse.

And I cried.

I told him how sorry I was, how good I would be, all the usual. And Then he lectured me!

He would ask me a question, like how I had earned all the tickets, or, why I hadn't paid them, or, not that he minded, but why I had taken his truck instead of my car. And any time I didn't answer quickly enough, I was prompted with that rotten brush.

It's amazing how well you can focus at a time like that. And he did have some mercy on me, as he didn't spank me or give me extras if I was trying to answer, and simply having trouble cause of my crying. And it was simply amazing how willing I was to not only listen to, but to agree with his point of view of what I would do to avoid tickets in the future, how I would remember to fill my car up so it wasn't running on fumes so I had to borrow his truck, and how if I did get a ticket, I wouldn't childishly simply ignore them and think it was only a parking ticket and they would go away.

Apparently, I finally got everything right, and then was set back on my feet,and my hands, which he had been holding off my bottom with his left hand, tried to go to my bottom to rub, as I stood there, sort of, more danced that stupid spanking dance.

"Angela Lynn!"

Just the tone was enough to make me look up, and my hands freeze in place!

"Unless you want some extras, young lady, you better not rub!"

"B-but honeeeyyyyyy !" I wailed, no pride left, only survival, "It hurttttsssssss!"

"That's the whole point. " And he pointed the brush, and no more needed to be said. My hands stayed twisted together in front of me, but I still danced, he hadn't said I couldn't do that. My punishment wasn't over yet, though. Pointing me to the corner again, I fled, leaning against it for support now, as I cried and my ass throbbed.

He was gone, I heard him leave, but was back quickly. Back with a tall wooden bar stool from our kitchen island, and my laptop. And I noticed, the soft padding from the stool had been removed.... And so, moments later, the stool was in the corner, I was on the stool, legs left off to dangle so my full weight rested on fat fanny cheeks that felt four times their normal size, and I was writing a little essay, about the same things we had just talked about while I had just been over his lap.

I was too stay there, he said, till I had it finished, and he approved it. So, the quicker I was finished, the faster I could get up. i finished Very very quickly.

He only had me change a couple of things, and then I was up, and in his arms, sobbing as hard again as if he were in the middle of spanking me, telling him how sorry I was, that I hoped he forgave me, all that stuff.

My arms were around him, so I wouldn't forget and rub. His arms were around me, as I snuffled and wet his shirt.

And his strong hands were softly, gently, lovingly rubbing my outraged rump. It hurt so bad, and felt so good at the same time.

And, as people who have recieved discipline spankings now, and also know why we have the expression 'brand spanking new', I was attentive and heard my husband and head of our house as he told me that he loved me, that he hadn't stopped loving me, that just because he was unhappy with me didn't me that he ever stopped loving me, and he kissed me on the forehead, as I yes deared him.

And then my eyes got huge, as he told me that I would be recieving my SECOND spanking, the one for all the unpaid bills, the spanking I had totally forgotten about, AFTER we got home from the party we were supposed to go to that night!

Angie, sometimes known to my Husband and Sly as Angela Lynn....

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