Come with Me, Young Lady

Here’s some fun from the archives.

My husband and I don't really do discipline per se. It's too confusing. How can something I desire and enjoy be an effective punishment? Besides, Randy has no interest in judging my behavior nor would I want him to try. We have plenty of spankings for fun, spankings as foreplay, spankings as therapy, spankings to reconfirm my submission, and spankings just because. We find no need for anything more.* Nevertheless, it's fun once in a while to incorporate some of the trappings of discipline.

Our daughter departed yesterday afternoon with some friends. They were eager to finally get outside and celebrate a brief break in this relentless winter. Randy and I were equally eager. With all of the bad weather, we have had few opportunities to practice some of our noisier pastimes. Moments after she went out the door, I looked at him and he looked at me. That glance told me we both had the same idea.

"Come with me, young lady" he said. He took my hand and led me up to our bedroom. He closed the door and then turned to me. "All right, you've been sliding for quite a while now, but that comes to an end today. Drop those jeans and bend over. You're getting paddled!" Those words sent shivers through me. My sweet, loving man had been magically transformed into a stern disciplinarian.

Purposefully, I unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, and slid them down over my hips. While I was preparing, so was he. Randy retrieved my sorority paddle. It isn't as heavy as the dreaded Mother of All Paddles, but it can deliver a powerful swat. I elected to leave my underwear in place just to see what would happen (as if I didn't already know). Since he had told me to bend over, I placed my hands on the bed.

"Oh no! You're not getting off that easy," Randy said with a serious tone. Whack! He slammed the wooden paddle against my bottom with full force. I jumped from the shock of the impact. "Get those panties down!" he barked. Quickly, I complied. He reached out and briefly touched my freshly swatted behind. "Now, get down and grab those ankles." Uh oh. Now, I knew he meant business. Again, I did as I was instructed.

So there I was, in that classic punishment pose, awaiting what was certain to be a severe paddling. I momentarily entertained thoughts of bailing out. I knew that if I asked Randy to stop he would. My determination took over. I decided I needed and deserved this paddling. I knew once it was over, that we would make love with newlywed enthusiasm. No, the pain I was about to feel was welcome. It held the key to fulfillment and intimacy.

Whack! The time for thoughtful reflection was over. My mind was now clearly focused only upon the effect the wooden paddle was having on my naked flesh. Ouch, it hurt! Randy swung the large wooden implement only about a dozen times, but the swats were very hard. I found myself gritting my teeth as the strokes mounted. Finally, I heard him toss the paddle on the bed. I started to arise, but he gently placed his hand on my back to hold me in position.

The next sound I heard was familiar and welcome. It was the buzzing made by a sex toy. I widened my stance as much as the jeans around my ankles would permit me. He caressed me with the toy as I squealed with exhilaration. My breathing was short and rapid. The paddling must have excited me, but I didn't truly realize the extent of my arousal until Randy began to touch me. My dear, loving husband had returned. With my full cooperation, he moved me to the bed. Once there, he approached me from behind and I accepted his loving gesture. He was so skillful. We fit like puzzle pieces. This was just what I required. At last, I had found delicious affirmation.

My bottom is still sore today, but it's a happy kind of ache. As long as my spirit is soaring, I don't need to sit.

*I have no desire to criticize anyone who enjoys a different lifestyle. What I describe is what works best for us.

Keywords: spanking, spanking stories, paddling