Chapter 3

After placing her hand on the back of my neck she turned me toward her. “Now my dearest, it’s your turn. We’ll discuss how to be a good host by not allowing your guest to get drunk outside the house. Second, even when I’m not around, the need for you to follow my rules. It’s clear to me these lessons need to be enforced, so you’ll be getting a firm reminder. I’m sure you’ll remember them if you know what’s good for you.” Stepping behind me Art started pushing me toward the chair while her free hand slapped my butt several times.

Now standing by the chair my husband slid my undershorts down to my ankles before sitting on her chair. “Step out of the shorts Gwyn, you’ll have no need of them until we finished here.” Once I had shuffled my feet enough to have my underwear off, she started yanking my t-shirt up toward my armpits. “Now the shirt! You’re going over my lap completely naked mister to remind you how serious I consider you getting drunk outside the house. You might have driven the car or another dumb stunt that could have got you both hurt. I’ll never allow that to happen if I need to paddle you every day for a year.”

Unlike Donna, Art never gave me a g-sting, so once my t-shirt was off I was left buck naked standing beside her thigh waiting for her to use the plastic paddle when she spanked me. It was worth an effort to try to reduce my punishment. “I take all the blame. Donna followed my lead. I’m sorry and it won’t happen again.”

Art shook her head. “Nice try, but it doesn’t work. Donna is an adult and should’ve known better. I’m sure his husband will make sure he realizes that if he doesn’t already. That by the way, brings up something else I want you to know. If Bob gets here and decides Donna needs another lesson on her lap, if she wants a turn at your butt I will give her all the permission she needs. Now bend over. You’ve deserve this and I’m not playing around.”

My bum cheeks were still feeling the sting from the eighteen swats I had got from her paddle when bent over the chair so I could only imagine the pain that would soon be throughout my rear end as that piece of plastic made things even worse. I felt her hand came crashing across my left bum cheek followed quickly by another slap on my right cheek. I responded by yelping loudly as the sting intensified with every slap of her palm. I almost started crying under her hand, but really bawled when I felt the smacks of that paddle across my butt.

Despite all the training I had, it was impossible for me to hold my position, so it wasn’t long before Art paused long enough to pull her one leg from under me and put it across the back of my legs. She pinned my hand that had come near to covering my bottom cheeks several times, although I had enough sense even in my condition never to actually do that as it would guarantee another spanking at bedtime. My squirming, twisting, bouncing and bawling all combined to make me a sight to watch as the paddle continued to discipline me. Donna told me later he’d never seen anyone react the way I did while I was bent over Art’s lap.

Art put her paddle on the floor after she counted up to sixty, and now viewing my bare butt, she could tell it was enough. She started rubbing my cheeks. “All right, it’s over for now. Stand up and get in your corner until you quit crying. When you’re ready, Donna and you are allowed to go about your day. Remember what I said. If Bob decides to spank Donna for this, you will be getting one as well, either from her or me.” Her slight hand slaps encouraged me to stand up as soon as I could possibly manage it.

I don’t know what happened when Bob arrived home the next day. Donna picked her up at the airport, knowing my husband had already filled in the details. If she did spank him my husband was never told, however I think seeing the impression the plastic paddle left on his backside, she likely thought one punishment was enough.

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Overall I believe I have had one of the best marriages and an excellent husband over the four years we have now been a couple. We have several good friends, some of which have male led relationships, others also from the Spanking Club, a few from our work relationships, and of course our relatives. I average twenty to twenty-five serious discipline spankings per year, most of them occurring during the summer when I am with my guy friends from work more. The girls at my work don’t know Art spanks me, likely wouldn’t understand if they found out, but it’s never been a problem. It’s because of the antics with the girls at work I get spanked for the most.

There’s one girl from work wanting to talk. Paula states it occurred to her that whenever she met Art, he’s never been mad at me. Never angry, despite the fact he knows all the other girl’s husbands are pissed at their wives for some stunt we did in the local pub. She and her partner Becker want to get together this weekend to discuss how a relationship such as ours works. Becker’s at her wits end with Paula, stating things need to change or else their relationship is over and done.

I told Paula she couldn’t tell anyone what is discussed, she might not like what he hears, and stressed the fact she couldn’t tell anyone especially at work we were even talking about our respective relationships. Since I like him and Becker, and in small ways have learned to trust them both, Art and I agreed to the meeting. The good thing is Art has spoken to Becker several times before, and I know the two men are meeting for coffee before the weekend. At least, I hope it’s a good thing.

Paula and Becker are sitting across the room, all four of us wondering how this conversation is going to go over. After all of us downing two alcohol drinks, Art opens up. “What I’m about to say better remain between the four of us. If we find out different, any friendship is over between us. We all agreed on that?” Everyone in the room nodded yes, so my husband continued. “Becker, when Paula messes up and you’re mad, does it do any good? Does he change his way for more than a few weeks?”

Becker glanced over at his partner. “Usually she’s good for a week, maybe more, but then the entire situation happens again and again. To me, I feel Paula doesn’t want to learn how to behave so we get along. She’s always pushing my buttons.”

Paula broke in to the conversation. “I feel Becker gets annoyed at the slightest thing, so yes, I push back, but I’m trying to think of another way of dealing with our situation rather than him staying mad at me for days at a time. Whatever you and Gwyn do, appears to work so we decided no matter what it is, we will try it. We’re desperate!”

Art continued. “I have to ask. Which of you are the head of your head? Who has the final say?”

Paula shrugged. “Guess I leave things up to Becker. He’s better at that stuff than me. I get swamped at work. I make a lot of decisions during the week so it gets left to him.”

I joined in by asking. “Do you like Becker doing that? I mean, would it be better for you if Becker was in a sense the head of house outside of your work?” Seeing her nod, I turned to Becker. “How about you, would you be OK with being responsible for the main decisions in the house? I mean in all things, although as a couple you talk before, but if it come down to it your say would be final.”

Becker raised his eyebrows before answering. “Paula’s right, I already make the decisions so, no difference there. What are you getting at, I don’t understand?”