Spanked!

Phew. I got my spanking yesterday (Monday) evening. It was a very thorough wife-spanking and ended with a session of sexual obedience and absolutely humiliating corner-time.

As recounted in I've Been Sentenced to a Spanking and Anticipating My Spanking, my husband decided to consequence me for not living up to my own standards of wanting to cook more. He made me wait two days to anticipate my spanking. He didn't mention another word about my spanking until Monday evening after dinner.

I had, of course (!), cooked him a nice dinner Monday night (Pistachio-encrusted salmon). we enjoyed it and not a thing was said about my spanking. He complimented me on my cooking, in fact, and said how I had really pulled up my socks in the cooking department. I wondered if this meant I was not to be consequenced after all?

He even helped me to clear and load the dishwasher. Once the kitchen was in ship shape, he said it.

"Well, may as well get your spanking out of the way."

He had not forgotten. Oh dear! Even though I knew I deserved it, I decided to brat at least a little bit.

"No, honey. Pleassssse! I did a good job on the cooking, you said so yourself. You said I really pulled up my socks. Come on... Please... I don't need a spanking."

I know what you're thinking. I've been anticipating this spanking for days. I've soaked my panties multiple times edging myself to the thought of it. I definitely wanted it, obviously. So why was I trying to get out of it?

First, if I realistically thought I had any chance of getting out of it by complaining like this, I might not have done so. But I knew that my pleading entreaties would fall on deaf ears, so no chance of that.

Second, a big part of my excitement around spanking comes from the consensual non-consent aspects of it. Putting up a fuss and him spanking me anyways is what makes it even more exciting. He knows it, too.

Third, when a punishment spanking is imminent, there's a big part of me that desperately does not want it to happen, knowing what is in store for me. So it's pretty easy to very realistically try to beg off my spanking.

"You're not being spanked for doing well now. You're being spanked for doing poorly before."

"But I AM doing well now. You said so. That proves I don't need a spanking to make me do it."

"You spent two weeks not doing well. What kind of husband would I be if I let you get away with that without any consequences?"

"A nice one?"

"You need to be cruel to be kind, baby." He said it with a smile and a smirk.

I was under no illusion that the fact he did not appear angry with me would at all lessen the severity of what he had planned.

I stomped my foot and said "Oh!"

"He just smiled at me some more and said, "Take off your clothes. Strip."

"OH!" I said again, stomping my foot again.

"Stomp your foot one more time. Go ahead. Do it. See what happens."

I briefly considered it. But this was no time to be making matters worse. I really do not like the actual spanking part of things. And I certainly do not like the harder punishment style spankings. And making it worse for myself seemed extremely foolish. My little rebellion was quelled.

"No thank you," I said.

"No thank you, Sir," he corrected me.

"No thank you, Sir."

"Take off your clothes."

I began undressing. I took off my jeans and my socks. I had of course put on a cute cotton patterned panty. I pulled my top off and removed my bra.

"Go on, every stitch."

I took my panties down and right off. I placed everything carefully folded on the floor in a corner. I was completely nude in my own kitchen.

"Given the nature of the offense, I'm going to spank you right here." As he said this, he took a counter-height stool from the peninsula and put it right in the middle of the kitchen. This one:

We recently had our entire kitchen redone, right down to the studs. It was one of the reasons I had committed to cook more. David was not so keen on the bother and expense of a new kitchen. He didn't see what the problem was with the old kitchen (it was about 30 frickin' years old and was looking really ratty - had not been redone since the house was originally built!). But one of my arguments was that with a fresh new kitchen I would cook more! As a result of the kitchen remodel we had more room, and we had also purchased these counter-height stools. So, yes, it was pretty fitting that I would get my spanking in my new kitchen. That had not occurred to me before, but it was so obvious now.

He went and perched on the stool, his knees about a foot apart, both feet up on the crossbar thing. He motioned for me to come around to his right side, then he motioned me up and over his lap. It was a bit of a struggle, but he helped me by lifting me part of the way and then dropping me down on his lap.

Oh my goodness! My feet were dangling at least a good foot or two off the floor, and my head was dangling the same on the other side. I couldn't really reach the floor, so had to clutch the thin stool legs, one in each hand. This was my approximate view as I went over.

I felt acutely exposed in this position. Normally I'm more stretched out straight during a spanking. This time I was jackknifed over acutely and dangling. I could feel my bare pussy and bumhole on parade from behind.

He held me there and gave me a brief lecture about following through on my own commitments.  He did bring up that we had built this beautiful new kitchen for me and that he expected me to use it.

I felt like such a naughty little girl, nude and across Daddy's knee, scolded before my spanking. This is what it's all about for me. This is actually the pinnacle of the experience, knowing I was in position and undressed to be imminently spanked. Spanked like a child. With nothing I could do to stop it at this point (yes, safewords, but no, never). I felt utterly... reduced. Completely subservient and obedient to Daddy's wishes. A naughty, misbehaving little girl, awaiting her just desserts. About to be very well punished and taught a lesson I would be unlikely to soon forget. Punished in my birthday suit because misbehaving little girls do not get to preserve their modesty.

Then he started spanking me. Daddy started spanking me.

Ouch!

He just used his hand, but as I've mentioned before, his hand is big and strong and hard! He was by no means going "full out", but there was no question that I was being spanked.

And this positioning was just so humiliating. My upper body stayed relatively fixed as I could clutch onto the stool legs. But my lower body was free to move, and move it did. Before too long I was kicking up a storm, which did not seem to phase my husband in the least.

I'd say I got at least five minutes of that. Then he stood me up on my feet. I reached behind to rub.

This gif was so me!

I thought maybe my spanking was over?

He went to a drawer where I keep some miscellaneous utensils. He picked up first one thing and then another, testing them by smacking his own palm. He finally settled on a red rubber spatula. This one:

He went back to his perch and then pulled me up and over and across again. He touched the spatula to my low ass cheeks, and then started spanking me with that.

Double, Triple, OUCH!

He had to hold me more securely as I was kicking and crying out and boogeying across his knee like CRAZY! that spatula truly sizzled my behind. He went all over with it, including down my thighs and into the "insides".

"Calm down," he told me as I was jerking around so spasmodically that I risked falling off his lap. I settled down and did some Lamaze style breathing, and he started in again, every bit as hard, not lightening up at all! Nefore too long I was back where I started and couldn't control my body at all.

"Calm down!" he admonished me again. "If you move anymore I'll give you a good smacking to your vagina with this spatula."

Oh my. A pussy spanking? With the red spatula??? But as soon as he said it, I knew I needed to experience it.

He continued spanking me. I tried to remain stoic for the first minute or so of my continued spanking, but then I, very deliberately, let myself go and began kicking and screaching again, which was very easy to do!

"That's it!" he said.

He stood me up, and then he made me bend over the stool. A bit like this, but picture zero clothes:

He put his hand in the small of my back and pushed me down solidly into the stool. Then he continued spanking me with the spatula as I cried and wailed and promised to cook more!

Finally my spanking was over.

"Stay there!" he told me. I remained draped over the stool, my ass killing me. It had been a complete and utter ordeal.

He did some stuff, then came over to me and pulled me up by my arm. He had put a throw-blanket from the next door TV room (that I often snuggle into while watching) and placed that on our kitchen peninsula.

"No!" I wailed, knowing what was coming.

"Get up there," he said lifting me with his hands under my arms like a child and sitting me onto the peninsula counter. "Lie down. Pull you knees up. Spread them. Hold them there."

"No, no. no, no, please!" I begged.

"What did I tell you about moving around like that?"

"Not to do it?"

"And what did I say would happen if you did?"

"pussy spanking..."

"That's right. Twelve strokes, right where it will do the most good."

"Oh no no no no no no no... OUCH!"

He brought the spatula down right across my plumpened pussy lips. (They always "plump up" during a  spanking).

I involuntarily brought my knees together and then quickly spread them again, holding them apart with my hands. He did not seem to mind the minor disobedience of uncontrollably bringing my knees together so long as I immediately followed it with a submissively obedient re-spreading for my next stroke without being told to.

He went from one side to the other and up and down the middle. Each strike was very painful, and most resulted in me bringing my knees together and writhing in pain before spreading open for the next strike.

"Are you going to behave during your spankings from now on?"

"YES SIR!"

"Last one," he said.

Oh no! Last ones were always the worst. I pried my knees open and gritted my face as he brought the spatula down one last time, dead center.

"Ahhhhh!" I yelled as I closed my knees, hugging them together, and writhed from side to side up on my high kitchen peninsula.

He settled me down, stroking my hair. Then he told me to pull my knees back again and spread them.

"No! Please! I've had enough. Please!" I begged.

"Shhhhh..." he said, settling me down. "Put your hands on your ass cheeks and pull them apart."

I did so, keeping my knees up and spread of their own accord, reaching to the outsides of my legs to grasp my ass cheeks and pull them apart, exposing my anus.

"Stay like that," he said, and he left the room to go upstairs.

Something was going up my butt. I just didn't yet know what.

He came back down with some lube and two sizes of butt plug. He lubed the smaller one and my hole, and pushed it in. He then fucked me with it for a minute or so, playing with my pussy while he was at it.

Then he took that one out, and put the big one in. It hurt going in! I had to strain to take it. I thought it would split me open!

He let me get used to it a bit, and then started fucking me with that big butt plug. The worst is having the bulbous part pass my anal ring again and again and again. He parked it inside of me and told me to sit up on the peninsula with my feet dangling off. This was painful, as it pushed the big plug in deeper and deeper as I gingerly lowered my weight onto my plugged rear-end. I sat there sweating, rocking back and forth, trying to use my hands on the counter to alleviate some of the stress.

"Are you going to be keeping it up with the cooking?"

"Yes Sir!"

"Next time I won't go so easy on you."

Easy!?! He called that, "easy"?????

"yes sir"

"Now, go up to the bedroom, put three pillows in the middle of the bed, and lie across them, no covers. You keep that plug inside of you, stretching you. I'll be up in a few minutes and then I'm going to sodomize you. Good and hard, right to completion."

"yes sir" (I figured that was coming).

"You may touch yourself while you wait for me, but no orgasm. Do you understand?"

He knew me too well. "Yes sir," I answered.

"Go on then, scoot."

I started easing myself off the peninsula. He again helped me down by using his hands under my arms to lift me up and then down onto my feet. I turned and he gave me a little smack on my butt. I waddled up to the bedroom as he watched my spanked and plugged bare ass wiggle.

I went straight to the bedroom and did as I was told. I lay out three big pillows in the middle of the bed on top of the duvet, and then draped myself over them. My plugged ass was uppermost. Then I waited for him.

My spanking had been very painful, but very exciting, and very exhausting. I knew I deserved it, and it turned me on that he had initiated it, made me wait for it, and then followed through on it. Also how strict he was with me regarding my wild moving and kicking, following through on the promised pussy spanking. And now here I was, stretched and waiting to be sodomized by him, "roughly, and to completion".

My hand slipped under me to my pussy. He said I could play with myself. I was damp and gooey and puffy and sore. My ass was high and plugged, waiting to be fucked. I writhed as I masturbated myself. But I didn't want to disobey my husband, not now, and backed off before I went over the edge. I repeated that a few times, reliving my full spanking, going through every detail, not least because I wanted to recall it accurately for this blog post.

I'm not sure how long it was. Three or four edges worth at least, and he came in.

"Have you been a good girl?" he asked me, asking if I had cum or not.

"Yes sir. I've been a good girl."

"Did you get close?"

"Yes sir. Multiple times."

"But you didn't come?"

"no sir."

He undressed as he was quizzing me like this and then got on the bed behind me. He applied some lube to the plug and my stretched hole, fucked me a few more times with the big plug, which hurt some more, and then pulled it out. He lubed his cock, placed the head at my asshole, and pushed in in one motion. He has a big cock, but the thickest part of the big butt plug was wider, and I took him easily into me.

He grabbed my hips and began ass fucking me. Slowly at first. Shallow at first. And then going harder, faster, and deeper. As many times as I've done it, it's always a painful ordeal, accommodating him like this. While the thickest part of the butt plug is thicker than him, his thickness extends the entire length of his shaft, and his shaft is much longer. I don't care who you are, an ass fucking is always an ordeal, as all these girls can attest to:

Yes, it's painful and it's demeaning. I was a composite of all of those girls, for real. First spanked, ass and pussy, and then fucked by his cock in my ass as further punishment.

[and yes, it turns me on before and after the fact to find images and gifs like those - what is fucking wrong with me????]

When I first started this blog, David's problem was he was a bit too quick in the sack. Almost 12 years on and he seems to have the opposite problem now: it takes him a long time to cum. Not good when you need to take it up the ass!!!! It went on and on and I was mentally begging for him to fill me with his cum. Finally. Finally. He did. He jerked spasmodically into me, deep as he could, and injected me with his hot sperm.

He pulled out. I was totally, totally spent. He took the big plug, re-lubed it, and stuck it back into my ass. He then had me turn onto my back and he put the pillows back at the head of the bed. He reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out my realistic-feel dildo and handed it to me along with the lube.

"Stick it in your pussy and fuck yourself with it," he told me.

I took it, lubed it, and DP'd myself with it. As I squirmed my pussy around the dildo, fucking myself with it, I also rubbed at my clitty with my other hand. David was right there on the bed, up on one elbow, staring at me with a big grin, which was pretty embarrassing!

He went into the bedside drawer again, pulled out my Hitachi, plugged it in, and handed it to me.

"Use this also," he told me.

I switched it on and used my clitty hand to press the Hitachi to my clit as I continued fucking my hole with my dildo.

That did it! I was over the top in about 20 seconds, writhing violently with the Hitachi pushed hard up against me, my hand furiously fucking my cunt with the dildo, while the big plug still filled my just-fucked asshole.

"That was fast!" David exclaimed in surprise. hey... "Leave those inside of you, you're going into the corner with them," he said.

Oh no!

I put down the Hitachi and stood up, holding the dildo into my pussy. The plug was staying in by itself. David took me back downstairs and conducted me to my usual TV room corner.

"Nose into the corner, don't you dare move it."

He stood me there like that and sat on the couch in the same room to watch some BJJ fighting of some sort as I was left to stew in my own juices. He could see me clearly from where he was seated. I was still holding the dildo into my pussy and trying to keep my nose pushed into the corner.

"You'll be there for a half an hour. You can amuse yourself if you wish, but that nose better not leave the corner."

I reached behind and jiggled the butt plug a bit, making sure it was firmly in place. I held the dildo into my pussy with my left hand. I licked my fingertips of my right hand and began strumming my little clitty. This was so embarrassing! I'm such a total slut. I did Kegel contractions, squeezing my pussy and ass around their intrusions as I rubbed and both considered my humiliating circumstance, and everything before. It took longer this time without my Hitachi, but after about ten minutes I came again, knees shaking, shuddering into the corner.

"Good girl," David said, observing my shame.

"Oh!" I said aloud in frustration.

"You have enough time left for another," he said.

No, I thought to myself, I wasn't going to embarrass myself like this again!

"Wait, I have an idea," he said.

He came up to me, took me out of the corner and made me face the wall instead. He had me pull my dildo out from my pussy and hand it to him. He held the base against the wall and told me to put my mouth around it.

"Hold it in place like that with your mouth for the rest of your time," David told me.

Oh! I slid my mouth over it and held it against the wall. It was tangy from my own pussy juices. It kind of stuck a little, the base acting as a bit of a "suction cup" (though it's not really one).

Kind of like the female version of this:

David went back to his TV and I was left there in timeout, nude, butt plugged, holding a big dildo against the wall. I got the hang of it pretty quickly and found out the minimum amount of force I needed to exert to just keep it there. There was no question of diddling myself, though. Holding the dildo required concentration.

"Use your time productively, baby. Practice your deep throating," David said. "You can use your hands to stabilize it if you want."

More humiliation. Great. I started going down on it, but not too aggressively. Maybe an inch or two at most, in and out. I found I could use my tongue at the tip to sort of keep the pressure on the dildo pushing it into the wall as I slid my mouth up and down. A bit of coordination required.

"A little more enthousiasm, sweetheart, or I'll add a belt whipping to your punishment."

No no no. I needed to get serious. I held the base against the wall with my two hands and started deep throating that dildo with a purpose. I went deep as I could, right to the gag reflex and held it there as long as I could, then backed off, taking it right out, and gasping for several breaths,  and then went in again, the same way.

"A little faster. In and out. Nice and deep."

I moved faster, bobbing my head on the dildo. I could keep it up for maybe ten or so times, then had to pull out, on the verge of gagging, retching, drooling all down onto my tits.

"Keep at it," David said. "If you do a good job, I'll take some time off."

This was good motivation. I went at it again, and showed David with absolutely no doubt possible that I was committed!

"Very good. Would you like to stop now?" he asked.

"Yes please," I said, sounding miserable. The back of my throat was sore.

"Ok, you can stop. Come here. Give me a kiss."

I went over to him and kissed him on the couch, snuggling into him as he fondled all my private areas, "taking inventory" like the other night.

"Go on and take your plug out, clean yourself up, and get dressed."

"yes sir," I said, and went to do as I was told.

What an experience. Properly spanked, fucked, and humiliated. It's the sort of thing I dream about before and after, and dread during. I'll keep the cooking up. At least for a while...

What do you guys think? Any critique of David's style? Any suggestions of what you might have done differently to me in his position? You know I love it all!