trust in all the years we’ve been together, so I won’t start doubting you now. I’m sorry and won’t ever do anything this reckless again, I promise.”
“Thank you for that promise; you know I’ll hold you to it.”
“As always, Sir.” With that she gave him on e last liquid glance and escaped to their bedroom.
When Peter walked in shortly after, he found his wife in position as ordered. Not quite a spanking bench, they used a long, wide ottoman instead. It stood on four legs to which restraints could be easily attached. He saw that she had already applied two for her wrists. They were tied to the legs, but she waited for him to secure them to the bench and truly restrain her. As required, she was naked and bent over the ottoman. At 39, Joanna was just as beautiful as the day they met. She still had wicked curves that tempted a man’s hand and although her hips were a bit wider from childbirth, she was toned and still as sexy as the nineteen-year-old he’d married.
He closed and locked their master bedroom door. After being promoted to Colonel a few years back, they’d moved to the Washington D.C. and built a new home. Peter had insisted on sound-proofing in the master bedroom to allow them privacy for romantic moments as well as those times when he found the need to exercise his authority and administer discipline. Over the years, the true punishments had reduced in frequency. Proportionately, the erotic punishments and their BDSM play had increased. They had even found an exclusive BDSM club where they could experiment and play without worries about children and interruptions. Of course, Joanna had matured from the eighteen year old he had first met and required little correction now. Tonight’s behavior was a real surprise. She was usually a level-headed woman who often erred on the side of caution instead of recklessness.
Stopping by the closet, he retrieved the Scottish tawse and cane from the locked chest where they kept their punishment implements and toys. As he approached, he laid the tawse and cane on the floor at her side where she could see them. Although this might sound cruel and taunting, Peter actually found it helped her better understand the seriousness of the punishment.
“ We’ll start with a hand spanking, Joanna. This will be for disobedience in spite of knowing the rules full well. You’ll want your hands restrained for this I assume?”
“Yes Sir. I won’t be able to keep my hands still.”
Moving around to her front, he squatted and secured her wrists in the leather, fleece lined restraints. She watched silently as he performed the procedure he’d often done before. As always he slipped a finger inside to restraint to check the fit and waited as she flexed her fingers. Before rising, he placed a kiss on her forehead then moved into position behind her. That kiss did her in and the guilt and shame brought on the tears.
“Hush , darlin’. Save the tears for the spanking.”
“I’m so ashamed, Peter. I’m almost forty years old. I know better.”
“Then this will serve as a reminder. When we are done here we’ll reset, you’ll be forgiven and we’ll move on.”
Kneeling beside her he immediately started the spanking. Usually he started out slow, bring the heat and color slowly to the surface of her skin. Not this time. He started with full, open-handed slaps which he made sure were applied to every square inch of her bottom.
Joanna lost count at twenty-five and her ass began to really sting. He showed no sign of stopping and continued on for several more minutes. Joanna stayed silent for the most part, but began to wiggle and squirm as it seemed to go on endlessly. At her movement, Peter didn’t stop. He only placed a firm, restraining hand on her lower back, his rhythm unbroken. Without the usual break where he rubbed and soothed the burn, the heat in her butt had mounted
“Thank you for that promise; you know I’ll hold you to it.”
“As always, Sir.” With that she gave him on e last liquid glance and escaped to their bedroom.
When Peter walked in shortly after, he found his wife in position as ordered. Not quite a spanking bench, they used a long, wide ottoman instead. It stood on four legs to which restraints could be easily attached. He saw that she had already applied two for her wrists. They were tied to the legs, but she waited for him to secure them to the bench and truly restrain her. As required, she was naked and bent over the ottoman. At 39, Joanna was just as beautiful as the day they met. She still had wicked curves that tempted a man’s hand and although her hips were a bit wider from childbirth, she was toned and still as sexy as the nineteen-year-old he’d married.
He closed and locked their master bedroom door. After being promoted to Colonel a few years back, they’d moved to the Washington D.C. and built a new home. Peter had insisted on sound-proofing in the master bedroom to allow them privacy for romantic moments as well as those times when he found the need to exercise his authority and administer discipline. Over the years, the true punishments had reduced in frequency. Proportionately, the erotic punishments and their BDSM play had increased. They had even found an exclusive BDSM club where they could experiment and play without worries about children and interruptions. Of course, Joanna had matured from the eighteen year old he had first met and required little correction now. Tonight’s behavior was a real surprise. She was usually a level-headed woman who often erred on the side of caution instead of recklessness.
Stopping by the closet, he retrieved the Scottish tawse and cane from the locked chest where they kept their punishment implements and toys. As he approached, he laid the tawse and cane on the floor at her side where she could see them. Although this might sound cruel and taunting, Peter actually found it helped her better understand the seriousness of the punishment.
“ We’ll start with a hand spanking, Joanna. This will be for disobedience in spite of knowing the rules full well. You’ll want your hands restrained for this I assume?”
“Yes Sir. I won’t be able to keep my hands still.”
Moving around to her front, he squatted and secured her wrists in the leather, fleece lined restraints. She watched silently as he performed the procedure he’d often done before. As always he slipped a finger inside to restraint to check the fit and waited as she flexed her fingers. Before rising, he placed a kiss on her forehead then moved into position behind her. That kiss did her in and the guilt and shame brought on the tears.
“Hush , darlin’. Save the tears for the spanking.”
“I’m so ashamed, Peter. I’m almost forty years old. I know better.”
“Then this will serve as a reminder. When we are done here we’ll reset, you’ll be forgiven and we’ll move on.”
Kneeling beside her he immediately started the spanking. Usually he started out slow, bring the heat and color slowly to the surface of her skin. Not this time. He started with full, open-handed slaps which he made sure were applied to every square inch of her bottom.
Joanna lost count at twenty-five and her ass began to really sting. He showed no sign of stopping and continued on for several more minutes. Joanna stayed silent for the most part, but began to wiggle and squirm as it seemed to go on endlessly. At her movement, Peter didn’t stop. He only placed a firm, restraining hand on her lower back, his rhythm unbroken. Without the usual break where he rubbed and soothed the burn, the heat in her butt had mounted
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