Wife Trained with Cottage Belt (cont'd)

As I mentioned in my last blog post, for the past week my husband and I have been on vacay up North at the family cottage, all alone, just the two of us. I needled him into promising to conduct daily "wife training" sessions for me, a prospect he found "exhausting", but nonetheless agreed to. He's got it rough, doesn't he? 😂. But I didn't just ask for what I wanted politely, which I now know I should have done, but did a little "topping from the bottom" along the way. So David felt I needed to learn a lesson about that and gave me even more than what I had asked for, like a kid being forced to smoke a pack of cigarettes, except with me it was an extended session with the dreaded "cottage belt".

So what is "wife training" you may ask. Somebody did in the comments section of the last post, and I realized it may not be 100% obvious. It's more a term David and I use between ourselves. It's training for me in instantly obeying him, and using spankings as part of my training. I kind of wish now I would have included the "obey" part in our marriage vows (at the time, no way!). I made sure my Julie character in my book Julie's Spankings insisted on it (which threw the wedding guests for a bit of a loop). And obeying, as a wife, definitely includes obeying in the bedroom, which is a focus for me.

Anyways, we arrived and unpacked.

"I'll get the belt," David said. Butterflies!

He had to go next door to a place my Dad keeps the tools, some of which were passed down from my Grandad and even my Great Grandad. I'm not sure if this one goes back to my Grandad or Great Grandad. I like to think it was Great Grandad's and is now being pulled out 3 generations later to train his great granddaughter to be a better wife. Whelp.

It's leather, and supple, and thick. It has never been used on me before, but from the looks of it, it may have been used back in the day to tame an unruly girl or two.

He came back with just the belt.

"Get your clothes off and bend over the arm of the sofa."

We have a brown suede-like sofa with a poofy arm. I took all my clothes off as he watched, and then with a deep sigh bent over the arm of the sofa with my head and chest wresting on the seat. He came up next to me, put his left hand on my low back and started spanking me with his right hand. Unless it's for punishment, he always starts with a warmup (this was training, not punishment). The warmup started mild and got more and more intense until they were quite punishing spanks that had me squirming and crying out.

"So you wanted the cottage belt, did you? Now you're going to get it."

I was not sure I wanted the cottage belt anymore! But I guess that was his point.

He doubled up the belt and let it rest on my bum. He took a couple of little taps, tap, tap, then wait... and CRACK!

"Oh FUCK!" I said.

"Language," he cautioned, chuckling at the effect the cottage belt had on me. And I could tell, that was not even full force or anywhere near it.

He lay the belt back across my cheeks and spoke to me. "Now young lady, when I'm training you, I decide how that will go, not you. You may make polite suggestions and requests, but let's nip this topping from the bottom nonsense in the butt."

The expression is "in the bud", but I think he was trying to be funny? I wasn't going to correct him anyways!

"Yes Sir. Sorry Sir."

"I'm going to give you just twelve more, and we'll see how you hold up. I'll be keeping the belt over here until the end of the week, and return it to your Dad on the weekend."

"Noooo... he'll know why you had it!"

"That's right, and he still wears it from time to time. Won't that put a smile on his face next time he buckles it on."

Oh blush! But he knows me and my Daddy fetishes.

"Ready?" He asked me.

"Yes sir," I said, hunkering down.

I won't describe it in detail, but I can say it was not as bad as I feared. Oh it stung alright, and it sizzled red stripes onto my rear end, for sure. But there was also an element of the warm leather of the belt caressing me as it punished. It was a heavy belt, but David was not using it full force by any means, so I was not bruised, just striped and reddened.

As if to validate what I was thinking, after David had delivered the twelve he said "I was using this belt at about one quarter strength. I can use it a lot harder and will if you either ask me to politely, or try topping from the bottom again this week. Am I understood?"

"Yes Sir!" The thirteen strokes gave me a sense of what a real beating with that belt would be like. And I was cured of wanting to experience that.

"Now, the purpose of your training this week is for you to obey me without question, even if it's embarrassing or makes you uncomfortable, correct?"

Where was this heading?

"Yes sir."

"Well I think I've scorched that bottom enough for now. I think you should go cool it off in the lake. Off you go. No bathing suit. No towel. And I want to see a nice elegant dive off the end of the dock."

"Oh, sweetie, please! What if Larry sees me?!?"

Larry is our somewhat lecherous next door neighbour with his disapproving wife. Larry knows I'm a spanked wife. I once left the cottage door off the latch and it blew open mid winter and Larry noticed it and checked up on everything and fixed it. I got a spanking for that and had to write a note to Larry apologizing and admitting I was spanked. Don't know if he shared with his wife or not. I asked him to keep it private and he agreed, but such assurances often implicitly exclude wives.

"I imagine he'll get a real kick out of it, and give you a wolf whistle. And if his wife complains about the naked tart on the dock, I'll invite them both over to see you get a spanking for it."

Well, it was "wife training" and I had no choice but to obey.

I plucked up my courage and gingerly made my way out. It was mid-afternoon and bright as anything. The only dock that had any sort of view on ours (apart from maybe telescope guys across the bay) is next door (which we knew was empty) and Larry's dock. I furtively went out, stark naked, trying to peer around the bushes before I was fully exposed. David was standing on our deck, fully clothed, looking amused. It looked like the coast was clear and I speed walked to the end of the dock.

Like me, but without the towel!

Did a nice dive into the lake, and then let my heart settle!

The cool lake was lovely on my naked flesh, and skinny dipping always feels so naughty! I swam around a bit, enjoying the experience. Enjoying my husband's eyes on me, and that I had done this thing to obey him.

Noticing the coast was still clear, I swam back to the dock, quickly got out and speed walked back, dripping, to the cottage. David had seen my entire performance and was waiting there on the deck to engulf me in a big fluffy beach towel!

"Did I pass your test?" I asked him, looking up at him.

"With flying colours," he answered, gently flicking the tip of my nose with his finger.

"Good thing Larry wasn't out!" I said.

"Oh, no chance of that. They both went to visit their son this week. Didn't I mention that?"

Ha!