My
husband, Ed, is a wonderful man. Better than most by most standards.
He is loving and caring, and faithful. There is little about him not
to like. Yet he does have his problems.
"Ed," you better
get up. You'll be late again if you don't." I growled. Ed is
not a morning person. On the weekends, he sleeps in until 9 or 10
and doesn't get going until at least noon. On workdays it's even
worse. Trying to peel him out of bed is a daily chore.
"If you don't get
in that shower now, I'm going to get in. You're not going to make
me late." Getting Ed to work in the morning was worse than
getting a second grader off to school.
Well, he did take his
shower, and I got mine, and he was still getting dressed as I got
out. I thought women were the "high maintenance" sex.
He didn't have that much to put on, he didn't have to do his hair
(other than drag a comb through it), he didn't have to put on makeup,
and he didn't have to worry about jewelry beyond the wedding ring
and watch he wore. Yet he could take close to a half hour getting
these few items on.
We made breakfast about
the same time. I was through with mine while he was still dawdling
over the newspaper. "Slothman," I warned him, using my
pet name for him, "you better get a move on, or you will be
late." I left as he was just folding his paper. His breakfast
was still half eaten. I shook my head in exasperation.
I put these thoughts
out of my head as I concentrated on the commute and my job. Things
were OK until just before lunch. My cell phone rang, and I answered
it. It was Ed's sister Eileen. She works at the same company as
Ed in another department and was partially responsible for Ed getting
his job there. At least she picked him up and got him to the interview
on time.
"Marge," she
said, "I got something I need to talk to you about. Do you
have time to talk?" I closed the door to my office. Eileen
seldom calls me at work unless there is something worth talking
about.
"OK Eileen, what
is it?"
"It's Ed. I've heard
some people talking in the break room. Ed is in trouble here at
work. It seems that he was called into his boss' office this morning
when he finally got here. Ed's known for his attendance problems.
Rumor is, one more late morning, and he's fired."
I sat there in silence.
"Marge, are you
there?"
"Yes I am."
I had to collect my thoughts. "I don't know what to say."
"Well, I do. You
better straighten up that husband of yours or he'll be standing
in the unemployment line next week."
"Easier said than
done. I've been on his case ever since we've been married. It just
doesn't seem to get better."
Eileen laughed, "My
brother is a wonderful person. He'll give you the shirt off his
back, when he gets around to it. But he does have some very annoying
habits. Mom had a way to deal with them."
I sat again in silence
for a while until my patience got the better of me. "Well,
are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess." I was probably
more cross than I should have been, but the thought of trying to
carry the house and everything else on just my salary made me a
little sharp.
"Whenever Ed refused
to toe the line, mom spanked him."
"Well that works
well for little boys, but Ed's a grown man. He's too old to spank
now."
"You think so?"
"What are you getting
at?"
"Mom spanked Ed
for as long as I've lived there. It wasn't until he moved out which
was about a year before he married you that mom stopped spanking
him."
I nearly dropped the
phone. My mouth flapped, but somehow a sentence marched out of it
in spite of my shock. "He
he
was like 23 years
old. He was a grown man even then."
I could feel Eileen's
evil grin even over the phone, "Well, some boys never grow
up. They never outgrow their need for a good spanking when they
deserve it."
"Wait a minute,
are you suggesting I spank Ed?"
"Well, it's either
you make him stand with a sore butt or he stands without one on
the unemployment line. That's the way I see it."
"Thanks," I
said somewhat shakily, "I'll call you." I hung up. The
latter part of that exchange was mere temporizing. What would I
call her about? What would I report?
I did call her back.
"Eileen, what do you know about spanking men. I mean, how do
I go about it? Have you ever done it?" I was shocked that I
was able to ask such a forward question. I was even more shocked
by the answer.
"It's not all that
hard. I've been spanking Tom since our fourth or fifth date."
I always wondered why my brother-in-law was so well-behaved. "It
started out as play. It was something that turned him on. I didn't
understand it at first, but there was no arguing with the erection
he had every time he got off my lap. After a while, I got to enjoy
it too, and my panties would be soaked after paddling his butt."
"It also had a practical
side. I remember laying into him one time when he was late picking
me up. I don't think that he liked having his favorite activity
turned into something serious. I was just angry enough not to care.
What I did like was how nice he was to me after the spanking."
"Don't tell Tom
this, but I rarely ever get angry with him. I just make something
up and pretend to be angry so I can give him this kind of spanking.
Now I do it just to make him be extra nice to me. I tell you, it's
a very effective method of behavior modification."
I had a lot to think
of driving home after work. I was surprised at the relationship
between Eileen and Tom. I would have never guessed that my ultra-masculine
(not "macho" just manly and very sexy) brother-in-law
spends a fair amount of his time naked and draped over Eileen's
lap. I never considered myself to be a voyeur, but I would like
to see that scene.
However, I had more immediate
problems: Ed. I knew what I had to do, I just couldn't figure out
how to do it. I got home about an hour before Ed. I rushed to my
computer, booted it up and Googled "spanking." I got millions
of hits. Well, it certainly seemed to be a very popular topic. I
narrowed down my topic based on some things Eileen said in our conversations,
and even then it was way too much to read in an hour.
I found a few articles
and a couple of stories to bolster my confidence. That was the key:
confidence! If I could feel good about doing this -- if I could
be absolutely certain that this was the right thing to do, then
I could do it.
Ed got home at his usual
time. Like a general planning a counter attack against an amphibious
landing, I decided I needed to meet him head on as he waded ashore
rather than let him establish a beachhead.
"Hi honey,"
he said.
"Don't honey me."
I replied. "What time did you get to work this morning?"
"Wh-what difference
does that make?" he asked defensively.
"A lot of difference."
I said, planting my feet apart and putting my fisted hands on my
hips. I had just enough anger to overpower my fear. "Answer
my question!" I demanded.
"Oh, I don't know
9, maybe 9:30."
"For a job that's
supposed to start at 8:30?" It was a question I didn't expect
an answer to.
I continued my attack,
"You're going to get your ass canned!" I let a small smile
escape to my lips as I thought of the inadvertent pun. "What
are you intending to do about your tardiness?" I said wading
in to engage him toe-to-toe. I hadn't noticed, but I was literally
in his face. It didn't concern me at the moment that I was looking
*up* at him.
"I'll try harder
to get to work on time," he said meekly.
"Trying isn't good
enough. Work's not the only place where you're late. How many times
have we lost a reservation at a restaurant because we showed up
late? Just once I'd like to see the *beginning* of a movie. I have
to lie to you and tell you that our friends invited us over for
dinner at 6 when it's really 7 because it's the only way we can
show up nearly on time."
I could feel the heat
rising in my face. In the back of my mind was a frightened little
girl telling me, "What are you doing?" I couldn't let
that doubt dwell. I told that girl to shut up.
I filled my lungs with
a fresh charge of air and continued, "There are going to be
some changes around here. You demonstrate all the responsibility
of a little boy when you are late. You want to know the difference
between a boy and a man?" I only waited a half second before
answering my own question, "DISCIPLINE. Men are disciplined;
boys are not. If you can't discipline yourself then I will do it
for you."
"Come with me!"
I grabbed his arm, and led him to the living room. He had barely
gotten his jacket off and didn't even have time to put it on a chair.
It slipped from his grip and landed on the floor. I sat down with
him standing beside me. I managed to undo his belt and unbutton
his pants faster than I ever did while preparing him for sex. The
speed took us both by surprise, and Ed didn't even have a chance
to object.
I could feel my heart
pounding. Adrenaline replaced blood in my veins. I don't know whether
it was a combination of anger, and now that I got down to it, plain
sexual excitement. I've never been bossy with Ed, and now I've gone
from zero to a hundred and twenty in the few steps it took to get
him from the front door to the chair.
With the strength and
speed of Wonder Woman (although I felt more like a PowerPuff Girl)
I simultaneously pulled him over my lap while lowering his trousers.
I let him rest there
for a moment. I could feel him tremble. I never realized how much
power I had at my command waiting to be unleashed. This was a defining
moment for the two of us. I could retreat and become the frightened
little girl again. He could resist. I knew that in spite of my adrenaline
surge, he was stronger than me physically.
"Ed, I love you."
I said. It seemed so incongruous a statement at the moment. But
I really did love this man. The thought of hurting him physically
or even wounding his pride was something I really didn't want to
do. But the mark of civilized people is to do things for their common
good that is not in their immediate best interest. "I'm sorry,
but I have to do this. You know I have to."
I brought my hand up.
It was like I had a 20 pound weight attached to it. I brought it
back down and my palm met his upturned ass. I had feared this moment
from the minute I decided to do it. I was afraid that I would feel
silly and giggle, and that would ruin the entire event. I didn't.
I felt that this was right. My arm swung back up more easily.
I don't know how many
times I spanked him the first time. I didn't keep count. It wasn't
at all like in the spanking stories I later read. I didn't make
him count the spanks out loud. I didn't think to lecture him while
spanking him, although we had a very frank conversation over dinner
later.
Frank's attendance improved
immediately.
Several weeks later,
Eileen called me. "Ed's really tearing up the organization.
I'm hearing rumors about promotion. What did you do to him?"
My response was simple, "Thank you."
I still have to spank
Ed from time to time to remind him of his responsibilities. I've
also found other things to spank him over. Both of us are happier
now that we've placed his discipline in my hands.
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