Today something happened for the first time that many might find surprising—not that it happened, but that it happened for the first time. My husband spanked me. Oh, he’s given me a smack or two on the ass during sex or whatever, but he’s never given me the real kind of spanking that spankos like me crave. We’ve been married for less than two years, and I’ve been less than forthright about my spanking kink. Let me back up a little to explain why.
When I met my husband, I had just left the man I thought I would marry, a man I fell head over heels in love with. I met him in a spanking chatroom and promptly moved in with him. At first, we had the kind of D/s relationship I’d been craving most of my life, and I was on cloud 9—that is, until he betrayed me. I won’t get into how he betrayed me because this post isn’t about him. Suffice it to say, he crushed me. Shattered me. I trusted him, not just with my love, but with my submission, which I had never before offered a man despite my lifelong desire to be spanked and dominated. When I let myself trust and submit, I was met with pain and betrayal, so I decided to leave him and D/s behind.
So there I was, recently single, devastated and confused, and into my life walks my future husband. Oh, he was handsome—tall, dark, and mysterious, with a twinkle in his eye and a swagger in his gait. He worked at an aerospace company during the day and played in a rock band at night. On the third date, he took me out to Thai food and after he whipped out his guitar in the parking lot to serenade me. He played The Beatles’ “Something” and I practically ripped off my panties before he started his truck.
About a month went by, and we were hanging out at the beach one night. He said, “I know this is too soon, but I already know I want to marry you. I won’t ask you today, but expect me to ask in six months.”
Romantic, right? If I would have watched the scene from the sidelines, I would’ve rolled my eyes at how ridiculously romantic it was. Six months later (to the day) he showed up to my place with a diamond ring, flowers, and that damned guitar and warm tenor voice that would melt ice. So I said yes, and a month after that, we walked into the courthouse and got married.
Here’s the rub. Throughout our quick courtship, I kept my desire for discipline/spanking a secret. I was ashamed, and the way my relationship prior to my husband went down only confirmed to me that this lifestyle wasn’t something I wanted to pursue and would only lead to heartbreak. Well, you can imagine how long I went without spanking before becoming unsatisfied. Not very long. Once a spanko, always a spanko. Trouble was, I just couldn’t admit it to him. I didn’t know how to tell him, and I worried about how he would take it. I mean, we were married, but we hadn’t known each other for that long. What if he thought I was a total freak? Those were the thoughts that ran through my head. I finally told him about a year ago that I liked spanking. That’s about all I said, though, so he was like, hell yeah, that sounds fun, and incorporated it into our sex life. Meh. It just didn’t do it for me. I wanted to be scolded, lectured, made to feel small and contrite and helpless, and he just didn’t get it.
Fast forward to today. I decide to hell with it, I’m just going to lay it out for him and hope for the best. We wake up. I go take a shower. I’m working up my courage while shampooing my hair, trying to figure out exactly how I’m going to say what I want to say. I almost lose my nerve, but somehow I manage to walk to the bedroom after my shower and say in a burst of ineloquence, “Babe, I want you to spank me. Really hard. And I don’t want sex during or after. This spanking won’t be fun for either of us. It’ll just be instructional, but then maybe next time you’ll be able to do it right without me explaining.”
I finish talking and he’s staring at me with an unreadable expression. I’m pissed at myself for how awkwardly I put that, and I’m pissed at him too…just because. I’m about to blow up at him for staring at me, when he gets out of bed and says, “Okay, I’ll be back.” He goes and takes a shower.
Meanwhile, I look up videos on spankingtube.com, and I find one I like. It’s exactly the kind of spanking I want—lots of lecturing and breaks in between rounds of spanking during which the spanker rubs the spankee’s butt and scolds her. Great, this is perfect, I think. I’ll show him this and hopefully it will cut down on me needing to instruct him.
I dress in my cutest lingerie, and when he gets out of the shower and comes to the living room, he looks me up and down and says, “I’m not sure how you expect me to spank you in that and then not fuck you.”
My response: “Fine. You can fuck me after, but that’s not the point, okay? Come watch this video.”
He sits next to me on the couch, and I press play. We’re watching it, and I’m cringing. Not only is it mortifying for me to admit to him how much I crave this kind of discipline, I am also being flooded with memories of my last relationship.
That’s when I start to cry, and my crying surprises us both. My husband looks at me, stops the video, and says, “I think I get the picture.” He takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom. I can’t even look at him. He says, “Babe, I know you’re embarrassed, but you don’t need to be.” I bury my head in his chest but he pushes me away and says in the sternest voice I’ve ever heard him use, “Hey, look at me.” He takes my face in his hands and kisses me, and when my eyes meet his, he says, “I’m a kinky guy too, you know.” That makes me laugh a little.
So without further ado, I’m over his lap. I’m still crying and I have fully abandoned my plan to instruct because I’m feeling vulnerable and unsure about the whole thing. I don’t even know if I want to be spanked anymore. Ever. What the fuck was I thinking? Regardless, the spanking commences. He’s pretty good. He starts out not too hard and alternates cheeks appropriately for a good minute.
He stops and rubs. “How did that feel?”
I say, “Good. That was really good, babe.”
“Glad to hear it. Remind me how much money you lost at the casino yesterday?”
This question surprises me because I rarely gamble—probably three times in ten years—and he was nonplussed about it the night before. It dawns on me that he’s trying to find a reason to punish me, and a little thrill goes through me. I clear my throat. “Well, I lost about $200 playing blackjack, but it wasn’t a big deal because I won back $2 at the slots.” I smirk because my response is sassy and I’ve given him a perfectly spankable offense, if that’s what he’s looking for.
Yep. It is. “That’s bad,” he says. “That’s a lot of money, and I think you need to be punished for losing it.” He starts spanking again, harder this time.
Here’s my favorite part. He’s spanking hard enough that my feet fly up involuntarily. He shoves them back down and growls, “Keep your legs down when I’m spanking you.”
That pushes my spanko buttons just right. To see what he would do, I move my legs again, and bless him, he notices and punishes me for it.
It wasn’t a very long or hard spanking, but it was a start, and we both feel good about it. Only time will tell whether it will be a part of our lives in any big way, but I feel blessed to be with someone who loves and accepts me. I trust him a little more every day, and days like today are the reason why.
If you liked reading this, you’ll love my domestic discipline stories. Check out my latest on Amazon.
How completely he had mastered her, when even the pain he inflicted felt like pleasure.
Jude has his hands full with Callie. She’s sassy and disobedient, but when she puts aside her foul-mouthed, defiant façade, the real Callie is as sweet and kind as she is beautiful.
Dominant men keeping their ladies in line.
Jack’s stern chastisement and bold mastery of her body leave Nettie begging for more, but is she truly ready to give up her freedom to be claimed by the mountain man?
Innocent farm girl asks repeatedly to be hired as an entertainer, but the saloon owner has other ideas about where the stubborn, disobedient young lady belongs, and it’s not on stage.
A proud young woman learns lessons in love and safety when a no-nonsense man sweeps her off of her feet…and over his knee.
What happens when a forward-thinking woman challenges the rules of her old-fashioned husband?
Hardened widower awakens from grief when met by a sweet, headstrong young lady in need of some old-fashioned discipline.
A troubled woman in need of protection and discipline meets a tough marshal, whose job it is to provide both.