Two Letters – One Spanking

During our hiatus, one of our longtime online friends jackbrat, noticed it has been a while, and offered to do a guest post for us. Thanks jackbrat! We appreciate you, and that was very kind!

With that said…here is a GREAT blog post from our friend jackbrat. Well done, if I do say so myself!

~Jess The Wicked Queen

So…without further adieu, let’s get to – TWO LETTERS – ONE SPANKING

Spanking her husband was the last thing on her mind when she pulled into the garage after her drive home from a long day at work. The only thing on her mind was to get in the house, take off her work clothes, put on her sweats, and fall into her recliner with a drink in one hand and her tablet in the other to check her Facebook page. In other words, to escape, zone out, and just veg until her husband got home. NOT to take care of some other kind of “business.”

But as she opened the door into the house and stepped into the laundry room, she saw an envelope on the dryer. It was placed so she could not help but see her name written in his handwriting on the envelope. She smiled as she picked it up. So thoughtful, she said to herself. A pick-me-up at the end of the day. She closed the door and opened the envelope. Expecting other words in front of her eyes, she frowned as she read what her husband had written and left for her to find.

Welcome home, Sweetheart,

I wanted to tell you this earlier, but I couldn’t find the right time, and I didn’t want to bother you at work. So I thought I’d write down what’s been on my mind. To put it simply, I feel like I need to be punished. It’s been eating at me for a while now. I know you’re probably rolling your eyes and thinking, “Why?” You don’t think I do, but I do.

For starters, you had made it clear you wanted to watch that show on TV and wanted me to record it. Well, I forgot to do it after I said I would. I’m sorry about that. I know it can still be found to watch, but I know I let you down. And then, the next morning, when you sent me the text from work saying it was really foggy and that you got to work OK and asked me to text you when I got to my office, I said I would. And later, when I left for work, I only had just enough time to get there on time because I took more time to get ready than I should have, and when I got to work, I got hit up with things right away and then forgot to text you. And I felt so bad that you were waiting there at your office for a text from me saying I was OK. And then last night, when you wanted to get to sleep early, I kept on watching TV, and you finally rolled over and told me to turn it down so you could sleep. I could tell this morning you were still ticked off about that.

So for those reasons, I know I need to be punished. And I know you don’t want to, but I also know you have come to understand the importance of it to me. And it just seems like right now I can’t find anybody to tend to me for when I do these types of things. So if when I get home and see the bath brush on the dryer, I’ll know that you agree with me and that I’ll get the spanking I deserve.

Love you!

She set the letter down, shaking her head and sighing. Again. He was asking her again. He was asking her to spank him like a naughty little boy because he felt he deserved it. And again, she didn’t feel the same way. She sighed again. They had tried this on and off over the years.

But she was just not a spanker, yet he was definitely a man who needed to be spanked. So she had told him to find a Spanker as long as it was only just spanking. And he agreed. And tried. And tried some more. And now and then found a little success. But not close by and not long term. So he was not getting spanked, and she had to admit she saw his frustration about that. She looked over the letter again. The show not getting recorded, well, that was just more than ridiculous. It was just a TV show. She should paddle his bottom for that? No. Come on. People forget things from time to time. He didn’t do it on purpose. But the forgotten text… She had admit that had worried her and then annoyed her when she finally heard from him and read his reasons as to why he didn’t get the text sent off when he got to his office. That was more than just forgetful, she realized. That was insensitive. All she had done was ask him to let her know that he got through the fog OK, and it didn’t mean enough to him to make that his first thought when he parked at his office, before he even got out of the car to go in and found himself “too busy” to remember. OK, that might be worth a couple of swats… But that thing last night, she mused. THAT was just completely rude and inconsiderate. He knew darn well that she was tired and wanted to go to sleep, and he just had to keep on watching TV and keeping it up too loud. Her eyes narrowed as she read again that part of the letter he wrote her. Yes, she was not happy this morning, and now she was annoyed again. She read the letter one more time and thought a bit. Forgetful, insensitive, rude… This wasn’t like him, really. He was actually a very thoughtful husband. This wasn’t like him. What if this was the start of some change in him, she considered. What if this was going to keeping happening? She sighed again and set the letter down on the dryer.

It seemed her workday wasn’t quite done yet.

An hour later, her husband arrived home and parked in the garage. As he stepped out of the car and closed the door, he looked intently at the door leading into the house. What would he find, he thought? This question had distracted him all day at work as he played out the possible scenarios for when he got home. He hoped it was the one he needed. But he also dreaded that it could be the one he needed. If she agreed to what he wrote in his letter, she COULD make this a very tough spanking to take. Come on, he berated himself. In all the years they’d been together, that tough a spanking from her had only happened a couple of times. Only one way to find out, he said softly to himself, and walked up to the door.

He closed his eyes as he opened the door and stepped in and closed the door behind him. He held his breath, opened his eyes, and saw lying on the dryer an envelope with his name on it—AND the wooden long-handled bath brush that he had mentioned in his letter to her. The sight of it, and the realization of what was about to happen, almost took away his breath. He was going to be spanked! He was going to be SPANKED!

He opened up the envelope and read the letter inside.

Hi, sweetie,

I read your letter a couple of times. At first, I didn’t agree with you and felt here we go again. But then I thought about it. And I agree. You think you were a naughty boy. I just think you were a disrespectful, thoughtless, rude jerk. But it was a number of things that you did. And I don’t want you to keep doing them.

So, since you think you need to be punished, and you think this will work, then that’s what I will do. Because I don’t want you to forget how to be the man I married and what I expect you to be. So, this will happen and it better work. Because I promise you this will be tough for the both of us, and I don’t want to have to spank you like this again. So, take the bath brush into the bedroom, put it at the end of the bed, pull down your pants and shorts, and then bend over the pillows on the bed and wait for me.

He couldn’t believe it. He really, truly couldn’t believe it. She had seen it his way. She had agreed to punish him. She agreed to spank him with the bath brush! His mind spun as his breathing quickened. He was going to be spanked! And from what he just read, she was going to spank him hard, too. He sighed both from happiness and apprehension.

Well, you asked for it, he thought to himself. Literally. And you DO deserve to be spanked long and hard. He opened the inner door that led to the hallway. As he walked toward the bedroom, he reminded himself to follow her instructions exactly. No detours. No delays. If he didn’t do this right, it could all be called off. The idea of that was worse than the spanking itself, so he didn’t take any chances.

NOT punishing him with a spanking and just ignoring it would have been a worse punishment, and not one that would clean the slate and give him the chance to feel that it was addressed, and that he was forgiven.

He entered the bedroom, set the bath brush on the bed, then unbuckled his belt and undid his slacks. He pulled them down to his ankles, followed by his briefs, and positioned himself over the pillows. His bottom was high in the air, waiting for what was coming.

He took a moment to take in his situation. There he stood, pants around his ankles, underpants around his knees, only his shirt tails covering him. He glanced over to the bath brush at the end of the bed. It suddenly washed all over him and through him. He was going to be punished. She was going to use that bath brush to punish him. And it did not take much effort for that brush to be punishing. It was one reason why he had mentioned it in his letter to her. She didn’t have to swing hard to make each spank hurt. And he knew his spanking had to hurt in order to be an effective punishment.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his shirt upwards as he leaned forward to lie over the “lap” of pillows. He settled down upon them, moving around a bit to get his bottom up high in what he knew was the proper position to be spanked good and hard. He lay there with his face down on the comforter, though he realized it was not very comforting. He lay there and waited, and as he waited, he thought about his behavior, how naughty he had been, and how much he knew he deserved to be spanked good and hard to punish him well. About 10 minutes later, he heard the door open and saw her step into the room. He heard the bedroom door open and could feel the tension in the air as she entered, her expression stern.

“So, you think you’ve been naughty?” she asked, voice firm.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered, instinctively using the respectful tone he’d adopted with other women who had spanked him in the past.

“Well, this time, I think you have, too,” she told him, almost harshly. “And I’m not happy about it. I expect you to act responsibly, and I expect you to keep your promises that you make to me. You said you’d tape the show. You didn’t. You forgot. Within an HOUR you forgot. OK, fine. And then you told me– you TOLD ME in a TEXT –that you would text me when you got to work safely. Did you do that?” “No, but see, when I got to work–” he tried to explain. “Shut it!” She told him. “I know the story. You got there almost late. You had to rush in. Your boss was right there at the door when you walked in almost late and right away asked you things. And you got busy, and you forgot until later on.” Her voice got firmer, sterner. “Do you know what it felt like waiting for you to text me?” He moaned and answered, “I know, I know. It was terrible of me–” “Terrible? It was very insensitive and thoughtless and, and, and…” She gripped the handle of the bath brush tightly. “Let’s just get on with this.” she sternly stated.

And with that, she looked down at his bare bottom over the pillows, aimed, raised the bath brush, and swung it down. The sound as it struck his right sit spot sounded soooo loud in the room. She swung back and then down and paddled the middle of his left cheek. “And to top it off, last night you WERE a jerk. NOT naughty, a jerk!” He realized through the pain of each spank that she was actually scolding him as she spanked him. This was new! And effective! His eyes started to water as he listened to her words and the tone in which they were delivered as she continued to spank his bare bottom. He HAD been a jerk, he fully realized. VERY rude of him to keep her from sleeping as she wanted to. And the lack of a text to tell her he arrived safely to work in the fog was insensitive. He deserved this spanking. He deserved every spank she gave him. In retrospect, he realized that while it wasn’t as long of a spanking, or as hard as he had received from the Lady Spankers he had visited, this was a special spanking. As the person he had wronged had punished him in the way that would be effective for him.

When she was through reddening his bottom with the bath brush, he lay there over the pillows panting with eyes teary from being ashamed of himself and his behavior. He looked up at her, afraid to see that maybe SHE was crying from having to punish her husband this way. “How about that?” She said to him with a small smile of discovery on her face. “I thought that would be hard on me. Turns out, not so much!” His eyes widened as he watched her raise the bath brush and swing it down on his bottom sit spots twice, two final spanks that were hard.

“Don’t think I won’t do this again,” she told him. “If you screw up like this again and are a jerk like this again, ‘naughty boy,’ I WILL use this on you again. Got it?” “YES, Ma’am,” he answered her in a rush. “Yes, Ma’am, I got it. And I really AM sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry I was an insensitive, forgetful jerk. I’ll do better.” “OK, then. Stay there and think about it for a bit and then come out and make me a drink.” She then dropped the brush on the bed. “And put this away, naughty boy.” He watched her as she walked out of the bedroom. “Yes, Ma’am!” He sighed to take it all in and feel the heat and pain rise from his bare bottom still bent over the pillows. Yes, he said, this DID do for him what he needed. He certainly felt spanked, and he felt punished. As he stood up to pull up his underwear and his pants, he told himself sternly, BE GOOD!