Electric Cord Spanking

sandal spankingGrowing up, I wouldn’t say my siblings and I got a LOT of spankings. But we each earned ourselves a handful. Mostly from my Mom as she was a stay at home mother and had no problem taking off one of her sandals to take care of business right then and there. Although there were a couple of times we heard the infamous, “Wait until your father gets home.” Which was horrifying as we knew that probably meant…The Belt.

The one time my Mom said that to me, I remember going to her closet and bringing her one of her meanest sandals and asking her for a spanking instead of telling my Dad. When she asked why, I told her, “Because his spankings REALLY hurt.” Which was genius, I know…and yes, she took it as in insult. So not only did she give me a wicked spanking with that sandal, but when my Dad got home, she STILL told him what I did and suggested a good belting was in order. OOOhh! The betrayal!

Thankfully my Dad took it easy on me as he could see my Mom had already lit my backside up. But I learned several lessons that day.

# 1 – First and foremost, don’t repeat that offense again.

#2 – Don’t EVER tell Mom or imply to her that her spankings weren’t as bad as Dad’s.

#3 – Never underestimate the power of a smart and strong woman to make your punishment worse.

Spankings at home were only carried out with a hand, a sandal or in the worse instance, a belt. Thankfully, we never knew the awful pain of an electric cord. Nope…that little gem of an experience didn’t happen until…My Wife/Wicked Queen.

That said, she didn’t get spanked with a cord growing up either. So how did her lovely brain decide on taking one to my behind? Well…bad timing on my part and my wife’s new Instant pot sitting out on the counter after She had made dinner in it.

I was already due for a woodshed session and she had told me that it was coming but hadn’t decided on which night she was going to give it to me. Anyway, I had a couple glasses of wine in me and more bravado (or stupidity – depending on your point of view) than I should have. And I started teasing her a bit with some good old fashioned male chauvinistic gems (she loves that). You know, like telling her to get back into the kitchen. Brilliant statements like that.

Before I knew it, she was in full ass beating mode and looking around the kitchen for something to spank me with. Then…I saw the look on her face as she saw the cord to the Instant Pot (already detached). Her eyes lit up and I kid you not, an actual smile appeared on her face. At the same time, my facial expression was of one who had just seen a ghost and I was vacating the premises quickly.

For those of you who don’t have or know…the Instant Pot cord is about 3 feet long and is a thick, heavy cord. It detaches completely from the unit, making it easy and convenient to use on a bad backside. She grabbed it, doubled it over and came looking for me.

instant pot cord

I was already down the hall when she care out of the kitchen and commanded very sternly, “Come. Here.” Before much thought processed through my brain, I heard myself respond with an emphatic. “No!”. That no response came from the self preservation part of my brain, I’m sure of it.

She came after me and I ran. Which pretty much put her at DEFCON ONE! The memory part of my brain started conversing with the rational part of my brain, reminding me of the severe whuppin’ she gave me, the last time I ran from her. But self preservation and my backside retorted, “But she’s got a cord!” But…reason persisted, “The more I run, the worse I am going to get it…WITH the cord.” So, after that sobering thought, I meekly walked up to her and turned myself in. She grabbed me by my arm and took me to the coffee table and told me to bend over. And even though I had resigned myself to the spanking, self preservation was not giving up so easily. He pleaded, and begged which only made her more angry. Finally, I was able to get all my faculties in line, took down my pants and underwear and bent over the coffee table for the worst.

electric cord spanking

The lashes came fast and furiously (but to her credit, very much in control). The pain was immediate and severe, right up there with the water soaked cane and almost in line with the wicked switch. It wasn’t long at all before tears started forming in my eyes and my voice was breaking. When it was over, I remember being SO thankful that the searing pain was no longer screaming through my backside. Granted, my butt was still on fire but the searing pain was no longer present.

Then she calmly said, “Now…this is for running from me.” And just like that, the searing pain returned, over and over again. Tears were flowing and I was doing my best to stay in position in an effort not to piss her off anymore. After a bit, she stopped spanking. But then said, “And THIS, is for telling me NO!” And continued the onslaught on my behind with that evil cord. I’m not gonna’ lie. I was full on crying as it hurt like hell.

Finally she stopped and said the glorious words, “OK…NOW your spanking is over.” I turned to her and dropped to my knees. Sobbing and holding onto her legs in front of me. The cord still doubled over in her hand. I apologized for my behavior and told her I learned my lesson and would be better behaved. She told me she hoped so because she likes this new implement. She played with my hair for a brief moment, then handed me the cord and told me to put it away. She said slightly annoyed, “I’m sure this wasn’t good for that cord.” To which I responded, “I think it was a lot worse for my backside.” She laughed and went back into the kitchen.

I couldn’t wait to put that cord IN the Instant pot and the whole thing in a cupboard somewhere out of site. And I know this for sure…The next time she is cooking with the Instant pot, I will be on my best behavior.

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John Oliver

Your trips to the woodshed remind me of my wife’s statements when she is really annoyed with my behavior. When she says a trip to the woodshed she means a trip to a friend of hers who is a male dominant.
When we get to his house, I have to park at the bottom of his driveway, which is about 350 feet from his “woodshed” which is a cottage on his property. My wife leaves me in the car while she wlks up to the cottage/woodshed, telling me to follow her in about five minutes, but completely nude. I then undress in the car and walk to the cottage/woodshed hoping that no one will drive by and see me naked.
At the door i have to stand and wait until he finally opens it and takes me inside and secures me to a spanking bench; my wife is seated there to watch.
He then proceeds to whip me with a variety of different straps. The whipping usually last about 30-45 minutes, depending on her mood. I am always in tears, pleading and begging for it to stop, of course ti doesn’t stop until she decides that I’ve had enough.
Then I’m untied and sent to the car, still naked with a VERY sore behind. Believe me the word “woodshed” can cause a panic in me every time she says it.
I don’t know if it’s the actual whipping or the humiliation involved but i find the whole this exciting as well as painful.


The Wicked Queen

Thanks for sharing your experience. Yes, I think the word “woodshed” SHOULD be a cause for fear for a husband who needs a good attitude adjustment. I assure you when I tell my husband that he’s earned a trip to the woodshed, he frets it all the way up to and during the whuppin’. Glad to hear your wife is getting your backside addressed in one way or another.

Earl King

Freakiest thing I’ve ever heard.

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