<![CDATA[A Housewife's Stories of​ Domestic Discipline - Blog]]>Sat, 08 Oct 2016 17:14:49 -0400Weebly<![CDATA[Spanked Wife Interview: Rachel]]>Mon, 11 Jul 2016 19:17:18 GMT/blog/spanked-wife-interview-rachelSorry for the delay between entries, but … I'm pregnant! I'm so excited.

With doctor's appointments and other things going on, new posts may be a bit slower for now. I'm putting up part 1 of an interview today, and before that, I wanted to give one tip for something I found really useful. 

Tom recently started his own business, which has been great except that we lost the health insurance he had through his work. We started off paying about $800 a month for not very good insurance through Esurance. I was looking up options that would be less expensive and saw one called Medi Share which is Christian healthcare.

We're now paying under $200 a month and everyone there is so nice. When you call up you talk with someone who actually seems happy to help and they ask if you would like to pray with them. Everything has worked so well with it.

This site on Medishare is the one I found on Google that talked about how it worked since it's different from other insurance plans. So I know it doesn't have anything to do with domestic discipline, but it's made a huge difference for us and that's why I'm putting it in the blog in case it can help other people too :)


Like in my last spanked wife interview, Rachel and I met online and realized we had a lot in common, from being in a DD relationship to both teaching kindergarten. We chat now a couple of times a week, and her own domestic discipline situation has one interesting wrinkle! So I had to get her to give us the details :)

Me: Hi Rachel, thanks for doing this interview! Tell us about yourself.

Rachel: My pleasure, I've never done an interview before :)

Me: Tell us about yourself.

Rachel: I'm 26, recently married to a wonderful man, and about to start my second year as a kindergarten teacher. 

Me: You know the title of my blog Rachel. And you probably know what I'm going to ask you next :)

Rachel: Lol yes

Me: You're involved in a sort of spanking triangle right?

Rachel: OK, so my sister Lynn (she's 22) has been making a real mess of her life recently. I wanted to invite her in to live with us and get back on her feet. DH agreed but with one condition: she would be subject to the same rules and discipline that I am.
Me: So your sister could move in as long as he got to spank her for breaking the rules? And from the picture I saw of you guys, would you say these two look like you and your sister?

Rachel: Yes, well either of us would spank her for breaking the rules. And lol thanks, but I'm definitely not as pretty as that brunette! Lynn looks a lot like the blond girl though.

Me: OK so what did you tell your husband about spanking your sister?

Rachel: That it was a great idea. She's a nice girl but she can be pretty bratty and stubborn sometimes.

Me: Haha I know what you mean about sisters. What did she say when you sprung that on her?

Rachel: Well, like you Katie we were both spanked well into our teen years, so it probably wasn't as surprising to her as it would've been to most 22 year olds these days. She just kind of laughed it off and agreed, I mean she didn't really have much choice, and I think she thought it wouldn't come to much.

Me: Was she right about that?

​Rachel: ​No not at all! Since moving in, between my husband and I she's gotten her butt whipped with a belt, spanked with a hairbrush, paddled, and everything in between. Truth be told, I've really enjoyed correcting her attitude ... I just wish I could have done it when we were growing up :)

To be continued!
<![CDATA[A Spanking Memory with The Belt]]>Thu, 07 Jul 2016 15:20:55 GMT/blog/a-spanking-memory-with-the-beltI talked before about a spanking memory I had with my mom, where she gave me a long session with her hairbrush for brattiness when I was 15. After a recent whipping from Tom, my mind went back to one of the last spankings I got growing up, this story involving my dad when I was 16.

​I had a strict curfew when I was a teenage girl. If I had permission to go out, I had to be back at home by 9 pm. Sometimes of course they let me stay out later, like if I had permission to spend the night at a friend's house. If I didn't get that permission though, it was 9 EXACTLY.

So one Thursday night I was out with one of my best friends. I wouldn't normally have been allowed to go out on a school night, but she had just gotten her driver's license and my parents eventually gave in and said I could go out for a short ride.

We were driving around playing music and laughing, having a good time. I don't know how, but I completely forgot about the time and she didn't drop me back off until close to 11. Walking to the door, I suddenly realized just what I had gotten myself into. 

Walking to the front door, I was just praying that one of them (most likely my dad) wouldn't be waiting for me when I got in. 

But as soon as I opened the door, my dad was instantly there. I froze. He hugged me and told me how worried he had been. That took me slightly by surprise and made me feel bad. I also thought for a moment that I actually had a chance of getting out of this one, even though I clearly deserved it. Satisfied that I was alive and healthy though, the questions started.

"Where did you go? Why did you stay out that late? Why didn't you at least call? And on a school night too!"

I had no good answers, and started crying when he told me to go to my room. He followed and when we got there he told me to bend over the bed. He raised the bottom of my dress over my back, and pulled up on my panties giving me a slight wedgie to expose more skin ... he always did that to give a thorough punishment without making me take down my panties in front of him.

I started crying even louder when I heard him unbuckle his belt. I looked back and started to say "No daddy please don't..." when he cut me off.

"I'm sorry, but no daughter of mine is going to have so little respect for the rules. Take your punishment now Katie. You're getting two dozen."

And with that, my terrible sentence had been handed down. Two dozen with the belt. I couldn't believe it. One dozen was bad enough but two dozen would be beyond bad. How was I possibly going to ...

Whooshing noise and instant pain. Then another three one right after the other. 

Let me tell you, I just howled to high heaven. Even screaming that loudly, I could still sense him moving farther to my left so that the belt would next slap the left side.

I tensed and then felt it explode into my butt four fast times. LASH LASH LASH LASH

I screamed even louder, pleading futilely with him to stop. I'm not sure how many times in my life I've been bent over a bed begging someone to stop spanking me, but this time I really meant it!

"Pleeeeeeease pleeeeeeeease pleeeeeeeeease..." 

He went right back to work at my right side, this time aiming lower and whipping my tender sit-spots and upper thighs. It was too much to handle. I jumped up and reached back, which was a big mistake as he pushed me back down against the bed and said the last two hadn't counted. I yelled "Noooooo" as he gave me two even harder ones at the top of my legs while I wailed in misery.

And that was just the halfway point.

You can imagine how I felt as he got ready to deliver the next set of four. I was bawling so hard I had no idea how I would take it. I had no choice though, it was completely up to him how long he wanted to whip me for. And I knew whether I liked it or not, another dozen was coming.


I again wailed "Nooooooo" at the top of my lungs, and collapsed against the bed as he continued the next four licks on my other side. I cried and cried hysterically, the pain was so bad. There was no way I could take any more. I tried pleading again but the words wouldn't even come out. He gave the final four lashes as I continued bawling, far past the point where I thought I couldn't take any more.  

I collapsed on the floor, a sweaty tear-stained inconsolable mess. He leaned down to hug me and said, "Now there's a good girl, I don't want you to ever stay out past your curfew again, do you understand?"

"Yes sir I promise," I cried out through my hysterics.  

After about ten minutes of laying on my stomach crying, I finally made it to the bathroom and looked at my butt in the mirror. It was covered in bright red belt marks with raised welts.

The next day at school my first class was geometry. I sat down next to my friend from last night and winced painfully as I sat down. She smiled and said, "You too?"

She told me later that her mom had paddled her when she got back the night before. We had all the same classes together, and spent the whole day comforting each other and whining about how painful it was to sit :)    


I just showed this post to Tom because he was asking me about the blog. He said, "Your dad really knew how to discipline you, it looks like I'll have to use the belt more often." Sigh ... I guess that is the price of my journalism!
<![CDATA[Mouth Washing and Corner Time]]>Thu, 30 Jun 2016 13:16:49 GMT/blog/mouth-washing-and-corner-timeI've said it before, but domestic discipline isn't just about spanking! In this entry, I'll go through the main ways Tom punishes me ... well besides turning my butt red :)

Corner Time

I talked about corner time in my last entry. Part of the reason it's so effective is that it's such a juvenile punishment. The woman has to stand in the corner, usually obeying certain rules. For example:

* Nose physically touching the corner
* Hands clasped behind head
* Hands touching sides
* Pants/panties at ankles

Of course, there's no talking and no turning around. There's also no fidgeting around or moving, but if I have an itch or something, I can scratch it and then immediately resume the position.  

Length of time varies a lot. I've heard other women talk about an hour of corner time, but he usually sends me to the corner for around 20 minutes. It still feels like a very long time though!

I think men look at corner time as a kind of test. They've spanked you into submission, and then they're making sure your behavior stays completely submissive by making you stand there in a corner which is something that no girl would normally do.

I also talked in the last entry about being released from the corner. My hands have to be clasped behind my head during corner time, and if I release my hands without his permission even after it's over, then it's more spanking.

Mouth Washing

So, I really really hate getting my mouth scrubbed with soap. When I was a girl my dad did this to me all the time when I cussed or backtalked, Tom didn't do this to me for the first year or so, and the first time he announced he was going to soap my mouth, I just cried.

Mouth soaping can also be done in some different ways:

* Making her brush her teeth with liquid soap instead of toothpaste.
* Holding a bar of soap in her mouth.
* Using soap on a washcloth.

Before saying more, I just want to be clear that she should NEVER actually swallow any soap.

With Tom, he'll get a washcloth super wet, then put on a ton of liquid soap and wring it out. Then he completely scrubs my mouth. Roof of the mouth, top and bottom of tongue, sides, gums, everything. It tastes so gross! If you've never had your mouth washed out with soap very thoroughly, believe me that it stinks :)

Then one of two things will happen. If there's no more punishment, he lets me wash with a tiny amount of water, which basically only makes things worse. I need his permission to do a full rinse, which he usually gives in about 10 minutes.

If there is more punishment, then I usually have to hold the washcloth in my mouth during it. (Not bunched up so it's choking me or anything, most of it hangs out of my mouth, but it completely keeps the taste of soap in.) So that usually means corner time with the washcloth, or a spanking with soap still in my mouth.

Writing Lines

(Ah, the pages to fill with promises of being a good girl!)
This isn't one that Tom has me do too often, but the rare times he assigns it I cringe. He sits me at a little table with sheets of lined paper, a pencil, and a hand-crank pencil sharpener and makes me write the same thing 100 times. Like...

"I will ALWAYS obey my husband."
"I will ALWAYS obey my husband."
"I will ALWAYS obey my husband."
"I will ALWAYS obey my husband."
"I will ALWAYS obey my husband."

Often this is after a spanking, so that I spend the whole time wincing while sitting on my crimson butt. I think he pays extra attention to my lower butt and upper thighs when he knows I'm going to be writing lines afterward, so it's not the most fun!

One punishment that he doesn't use much at all is grounding. I know plenty of other women get grounded, but his philosophy (which I really appreciate) is that punishment should take care of a problem quickly. Yes the spanking or mouth-soaping is terrible, but once the punishment is done, all is forgiven and we have completely moved on. 

Of these three punishments, the one I most want to avoid is having my mouth scrubbed with soap. A thorough mouth washing followed by a long, hard spanking is probably one of the most effective ways he disciplines me, just because I hate it so much. Of course, it really gets me to think twice about whatever I did that got me punished like that. So come to think of it, I guess the man knows what he's doing :)

<![CDATA[Most Embarrassing Hairbrush Spanking]]>Thu, 23 Jun 2016 20:17:34 GMT/blog/most-embarrassing-hairbrush-spankingWhile standing in the corner a few afternoons ago, I spent time thinking about whether I would post this hairbrush spanking story on the blog or whether it was just too embarrassing. I decided that the reader has the right to know :)

(Same position I take for corner time)
I've talked about my first domestic discipline spanking before, and the punishment he gave me with the brush. Most of my punishments recently though have been with his hand, the belt, or the spoon. 

Sunday was different. I had walked into our bathroom to get ready to go over to a neighbor's house to see the garden she had just planted. He was in there shaving after his shower, and asked me if I had done the laundry yet. I told him I'd do it as soon as I got back. Can you already tell where this story is going? :)

He told me that I would do it now. I childishly told him that I would do it when I got back. He said, "OK, that's it."

Cue the lightbulb over my head flashing what I had just gotten myself into.

He grabbed the brush from the bathroom counter, took me by the ear, and walked me over to the bed while I whined and complained. I was wearing a pair of his shorts (fancy Sunday attire!), and as soon as we got to the bed, he pulled them down and yanked me over his lap.

He started slapping my butt over the panties I still had on, hard and fast with his hand. I cried out. He must have given me at least three dozen and they hurt like heck.

Then he told me to stand up, pulled down my panties, and dragged me back over his lap. The warmup spanking over, he grabbed the brush and got down to business.

I heard the loudest splat before I felt the intense pain. Instantly there was another, and another ... this one on my upper left thigh! I had really thought the brush was better than the belt, but it sure didn't feel like it at that moment.


He was just roasting my butt and upper thighs. Spanking faster and harder than normal, he wouldn't let up. There was no lecturing, no pauses, just hard swats up and down my butt and the tops of my thighs. As usual, I screamed hysterically and begged him, which (also as usual) did no good. 

Now I did not enjoy this spanking one bit, and like anytime a guy has you begging over his lap, it was embarrassing. But here was the wrinkle with this one. I've talked before about getting sweaty during spankings. So much twisting, wriggling, yelling, bucking and crying. By the time he had finished though, I was really sweating hard. More on this in a moment.

He eventually let me up, and sent me to the corner with my hands clasped behind my head. I dutifully obeyed, shuffling over with my panties and shorts at my ankles.  He told me I had 20 minutes there. 

I gently sobbed. My butt still hurt like crazy, and I was sure it was covered in red oval brush marks just like my poor upper thighs had to be. I also knew that I had sweated through the gray t-shirt I had been wearing. I even remembered then that I had forgotten to put on deodorant that morning ... I hate when that happens! 

I thought back to a time when something similar happened after one of my mom's whippings when I was 14 or 15.

Back then, she had commented after my corner time how sweaty I was, which was so embarrassing. The idea of my husband -- or any man -- seeing me like that was too much to bear. I came up with a plan. 

When he released me from the corner, I quickly dropped my arms so he couldn't see. He was having none of it though.

"Did I tell you that you could put your arms down young lady?"

He still had the brush in his hand, bent me over while holding me around the waist, and gave me half a dozen hard swats while I yelped and picked my legs up over and over in a little spanky dance. Those extra swats stung like crazy!

When he was done, he said, "Now let's try this again. Back in the corner."

When he released me for the second time five or ten minutes later, I stood in front of him with my arms still clasped behind my head. He lectured me about doing chores when I'm supposed to and not talking back, the entire time being able to clearly see the small pit stains where I had sweated through my shirt.

Even though he didn't say anything about it, I was totally humiliated. I just hung my head and cried during his lecture.

It was a good lesson though of a few things that, at this point in my life, I really shouldn't have needed any reminder of:

​1. Never talk back to Tom.
2. Always do my chores on time.
3. Don't forget to put on deodorant!

So there you have it. My single most embarrassing domestic discipline spanking to date!
<![CDATA[Afte´╗┐rmath of a Paddling]]>Fri, 17 Jun 2016 20:44:26 GMT/blog/aftermath-of-a-paddlingIn my last post, I wrote, "I have to admit, it was very powerful discipline and really made me get my act together. Getting your butt paddled is no fun!" When I wrote that it had yet to really sink in just how true those words would be!

A few days ago, I caught myself about to roll my eyes at something Tom said. I can't remember exactly what, but I'd ask him for help with some chore and he'd told me that was on my list of things to do. To be honest, I was being a bit lazy.

Usually I just roll my eyes when someone annoys me without even thinking about it. It's a habit I've had for as long as I can remember even from before I got spanked! But as I widened my eyes to roll them directly in front of Tom's face (where there would be no chance of him missing it), I saw an Amazon package out of the corner of my eye. The funny thing was that this was just a big square box, and I knew it held dog food and not a paddle like last week. But Amazon packages have now somehow become synonymous with spanking to me.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I had to squirm whenever I sat down for two days after the paddling. And I swear my butt was red and hot to the touch for many days after! 

After I stopped myself from fully rolling my eyes at Tom, I cleaned the kitchen, and then took a shower. When I came back downstairs, there was a very unwelcome sight on the kitchen counter. I froze, staring at its wooden surface.

As if he could hear the abrupt halt of my footsteps, Tom came into the kitchen. Slowly he picked up the paddle, and ran a palm across the face of the board. 

I wanted to say that I shouldn't be spanked, that it wasn't fair, that I hadn't really done anything that bad with the partial eye roll. But as I looked at his big hands holding that paddle, even I didn't have any bratty words to say. 

"Good," he said. "I can see you learned your lesson last week after all."

As he set the paddle back on the counter I let out a big sigh of relief.

"But we'll just leave the paddle here. So you'll remember what happens next time you so much as start to roll your eyes at me."

And ever since that moment, my eyes haven't  even been tempted to roll.]]>
<![CDATA[Story of a Paddling]]>Wed, 08 Jun 2016 15:34:03 GMT/blog/story-of-a-paddling​Tom paddled me the other day.

When I was growing up, I never got the paddle. Maybe an occasional spanking when I was younger with a wooden ping pong paddle...

​But never a big scary paddle...
The very one I got spanked with!
The only time I had gotten a brief dose of the paddle was in college. Our sorority was no longer supposed to have initiation paddlings, but there were still paddles in the sorority house from the old days. The older girls gave us all a few swats, much less than what I heard they got in the old days. It was more meant to be a fun tradition I guess, but boy did those hurt! I couldn't imagine what a real spanking with one would have been like.

Until a couple nights ago.

I'd had a bit of an attitude with Tom all week. Maybe I just wanted him to put his foot down and spank me. If so I got my wish. He got this long Amazon package, and I was instantly wondering. I'm usually the one who does the Amazon orders. But I knew better than to open it.

When he came home from work, I asked him.

"I'm glad you asked," he said with a smile.

I immediately smelled trouble. He went into the kitchen and opened it while I followed along. And he pulled out a paddle! A big, scary wood paddle. 

I admit I was pretty shocked. I then asked the single most obvious question in history:

"What are you going to do with that?"

"Your attitude has been all wrong recently, Katie. We're going to correct that right now. Bend over the sofa."

I stammered and pleaded with him not to, but he just pointed the paddle toward the couch. I slowly walked over. I was wearing jeans and bent over the arm of the sofa, now whimpering and starting to beg him not to. I was really scared at that point.

I couldn't see him with my butt in the air and face just above the cushions, but I felt the movement.


It made the loudest sound. I jumped up, grabbed my butt, and shouted "OWWW."

"Bend back over right this minute," he said.

(I was bent over a sofa instead of a bed, but besides that, I was this girl!)
I slowly complied, and he gave me another. It was just as terrible. I yelled out loudly but somehow stayed in position this time.  


He gave me at least a dozen, each one horribly bad and causing me to yell out loud. It was a deep, intense pain. By the seventh or eighth swat I was screaming and really sweaty. By the time he got to the last one, I was completely hysterical.

I should have predicted what would come next, but even so I couldn't believe it when I heard the words:

"Now pull those pants down young lady."

"Please," I begged him. "I know my attitude's been terrible, I'm so sorry, but please please please no more."

But even as I said it I was pulling my jeans down. I knew resisting would only make it worse ... he never lets me get out of punishments. I had my jeans down just below my butt when he grabbed them, pulled them all the way down, and then did the same with my panties. I very slowly bent over, still crying.

He stepped back and I gritted my teeth.


If I thought it was bad over jeans, it was sheer agony on the bare. My butt must have already been crimson, and now he was determined not to let me up until it was blistered. There was probably around ten seconds between swats, time I spent in total fear dreading the next one. I was sure I couldn't take anymore when he paddled even lower on my butt, swatting the tops of my thighs too. 

It was just too much to handle. I collapsed on my knees in front of the sofa arm. He told me that that would have been the last one, but now I was getting more. I cried even harder, forcing myself to assume the position one more time, and he gave me a particularly hard one ... again targeting the base of my butt and upper legs. And then another one. I was in inconsolable hysterics.

It probably took at least a minute for me to realize he had stopped.

He let me cry and then came around and hugged me. I was a sweaty, tear-stained mess, still crying loudly. I desperately craved his comfort. He told me that from now on I was going to act right and have a good attitude and I kept on saying "yes" over and over.

I have to admit, it was very powerful discipline and really made me get my act together. Getting your butt paddled is no fun!

<![CDATA[Not Just Spankings]]>Thu, 02 Jun 2016 13:51:48 GMT/blog/not-just-spankingsI've had a lot of fun so far writing this blog, giving my spanking stories, and telling the kind of details that I hope you guys find fun to read. 

While domestic discipline isn't just about spanking. I think there are a few reasons that it's the most common punishment.

It's quick. There's nothing wrong with a drawn-out punishment like grounding, but the great thing about spanking is that it's a fast way to get a totally clean slate. (Well, it may not feel quick when you're over his lap!)

Everyone knows it. Almost everyone gets spanked growing up, and so it's not surprising that domestic discipline would use a punishment we all know.

It's a childish punishment. The woman has usually done something immature by breaking a rule, and spanking her like a bratty child emphasizes that.

It's the most effective. There's no question that a girl yelling in pain is being effectively punished! 

So there are good reasons that people think about spanking when they think about domestic discipline. Domestic discipline is about a lot than just spanking though. It's also about trust, submission, and love. Sometimes that means lecturing, comforting, or other punishments. In one of my next posts, I'll talk more about the other punishments Tom gives me. 

For now I want to tell a brief story about one of the first times I felt like I really understood domestic discipline. I had just said something disrespectful, and he just calmly replied, "If you don't start behaving right now Katie, you're going over my knee."

What I should have done at this point:
"Oh darling, I'm so sorry!"

​What I actually did:
"Fear me husband, I am the devil woman!"

Well, those may not have been my exact words :) But instead of backing down like I should have, I blurted out "You can't spank me for this!" I really have a habit of saying and doing dumb things when a spanking is on the horizon ... Obviously he spanked me then, but instead of giving me a belt whipping or turning my butt crimson with the brush, he gave me a long, hard and very slow hand spanking. 

The entire time, he lectured me. Acting like a brat, disrespecting him, everything I had done wrong. He talked a lot about control too. "You are not the one in control. When I tell you something, you listen."

And listen I did. In part, I didn't have much choice :) He had me pinned over his lap and was slapping my butt very hard over and over. It really sunk in though. This is what I wanted. To give up control, let the man be in charge, and finally be able to explore my submissive side. I think it's what most women want, even if they would never admit it. Domestic discipline is a powerful expression of that submission. 

<![CDATA[Teenage Spanking Memory]]>Thu, 26 May 2016 15:32:36 GMT/blog/teenage-spanking-memoryOn Sunday, Tom gave me corner time for rolling my eyes at him. I can't stand corner time but mainly just felt lucky he didn't take spank me for it :) Here's the thing though: While he was lecturing, he started off by calling me "Missy."

As in "You go to that corner right now Missy!"

And suddenly I had a vivid memory of a spanking I got for rolling my eyes when I was a girl. My mom almost always called me Missy when she was punishing me. That was close to a sure fire way of knowing that I was getting my butt spanked, hearing that word coming from my Mom's normally soft voice. 
(My mom looked just like the woman on the right when she was younger ... she's so beautiful!)

​When I had just turned 15, I was going through kind of a bratty stage and she had warned me a lot about rolling my eyes at her. That day I had just done it again, probably for no good reason, and she gave me several hard swats over my pajama bottoms and told me that if I did it again I'd be in for a real spanking. Obviously, that would have been a good time not to roll my eyes.

But what do I do right then? Roll my eyes again! I really didn't mean to. I'll bet I hold the world record for the girl who has gotten the biggest number of totally preventable spankings. Someone call Guinness :)

I don't think Mom could believe I disobeyed her like that immediately after she told me to stop rolling my eyes. 

Cue the Missy. I think it was something like:

"Alright Missy, we'll do it your way. You stay right there and we'll sort this out with the brush."

I instantly begged her not to. "Please Mom, I'm sorry, please don't spank me," but she had already made up her mind and came back a moment later carrying the dreaded oval wooden hairbrush. We were in my room and I knew that soon my dad and brother would be hearing my screams and pleas. It was so embarrassing.

She shut the door, sat down on the bed, and demanded I turn over her lap.

Already crying, I positioned myself over her lap, and she started giving me quick hard swats with the brush. 


Each swat stung really bad, and I was crying for real, but I was also really glad that my pants were still up. Dad's whippings were much worse. Still, she was going at a fast pace, and soon it became really bad. I started crying louder and begging her to stop. I got my wish, but not quite in the way I had in mind.

"Alright Missy, stand up now and pull down those pants."

"NOOOOO, please Mom let me keep them up." 

"I said now Missy!"

I stood up and slowly pulled down the pajama bottoms, She just gave me a stern look while I stood there. I knew what she wanted, but couldn't bring myself to do it. 

"Young lady, if you do not pull down those panties this minute, I'm going to make it a lot worse."

Sobbing at full volume, I slowly pulled down my panties, knowing how bad she could make it if I disappointed her.

Mom nodded in approval and pulled me back over her lap. The first spank on the bare had me howling. It was far from my first time at the rodeo, but for some reason I still couldn't believe the pain. I'm sure that it left a bright red oval mark on my butt. I screamed loudly. While I was still processing the pain, the next swat landed and I screamed even louder. It was terrible. She quickly found her rhythm and gave me one hard spank every couple of seconds.

I yelled so loudly and pleaded with her to stop, but she kept spanking. On and on her strict discipline went, ignoring my loud bawling.

She then pulled the same trick that Tom does so often. Just when I thought I couldn't take any more and it was slowing down, she started right back up ... this time on my upper thighs!

I went into absolute hysterics, bawling at the top of my lungs, while she punished that super-sensitive region.


This phase of the spanking was unbearably bad, I still remember today how miserable I was. Nothing stings and burns as bad as an angry mother slapping your upper thighs over and over with a hairbrush!

Then she gave me at least a dozen more, alternating between butt and thighs, while I just sobbed brokenly over her lap. Of course, when I had no resistance left she stopped punishing me, and instead leaned down and hugged me.

After I had some time to compose myself, she softly touched hair that had fallen on my tear-stained face and said, "I'm sorry I had to do that Katie, but you needed to learn a good lesson about respect. I don't think you'll be rolling your eyes at me again. Do you understand?"

I said "Yes" through my tears and hugged her desperately.


Tom and I have haven't told anyone in our families about domestic discipline,  But maybe I'll tell my mom. I think she would be supportive of something that had strengthened our marriage so much. She might smile, too, knowing that I still had someone to keep my in line when my bratty side came out :)
<![CDATA[Spanked Wife Interview: Jenny S.]]>Thu, 19 May 2016 18:47:55 GMT/blog/spanked-wife-interview-jennyThis is an interview I did with a woman I met in an online domestic discipline forum. We've since had the chance to meet in real life and became good friends. Enjoy!

Me: Thanks for doing this interview!

Jenny: You're welcome!

Me: Tell us a little about yourself.

Jenny: I'm a stay-at-home-mom with three beautiful girls. I'm 37 and have been married since I was 24.

Me: I know you don't want me to use your actual picture, but looking online I think you look a lot like her ... wouldn't you agree?

​Jenny: You flatter me Katie :)

Me: Not at all! But let's get down to business :) How did you first get into domestic discipline?

Jenny: My sister-in-law. I've always been in awe of how great her relationship is with my brother. One night we had been drinking a lot of wine and I kept asking her about it, and finally she told me.

Me: That he spanks her?

Jenny: Yes, how she has rules that she gets punished for breaking, usually by getting spanked with a paddle or belt.

Me: Wow, what was your reaction?

Jenny: I was shocked at first. We were spanked growing up until a late age, or at least I was. Come to think of it, seems like kind of a double standard to stop spanking a boy at 12 and a girl at 16! But anyway, I was still really surprised to hear that. Part of me liked picturing her getting spanked too as she's great but sometimes she can be really controlling. 

Me: Lol. So how did you first bring it up with your husband?

Jenny: I just said to him, "You know what, from now on, if I'm acting like a brat, just spank me. Let's see how it works."

Me: That's a pretty direct approach!

Jenny: I guess that's always how I've been :)

Me: What are his spankings like?

Jenny: They've changed a lot since we started. At first they were real tentative, like he was afraid of hurting me. I told him I was a big girl and to be a man about it. It was a pretty dumb thing to say :)

Me: Lol you are brave :) So he started giving you more serious punishments?

Jenny: Definitely. Since then he started spanking me a lot harder. 

Me: What are common things he spanks you for?

Jenny: Oh the usual, backtalk, disrespect, not doing what he says. He never wrote out rules but I know at this point what will get me punished.

Me: Tell us about a recent spanking. Why he spanked you, what did he use ... give us the details.

Jenny: Well, one thing he's told me a number of times is not to talk about our finances with anyone else. He's really private about that stuff. A few weeks ago he heard me telling Rachel (same sister-in-law) how much more he was making in his new job. What can I say, sometimes I have a really big mouth. When she left, he whipped me.

​Me: C'mon Jenny, we want details!

Jenny: OK well he told me to wait for me in our room. I went up and he came a few minutes later and pulled off his belt. I knew I was in for it big-time then. I pleaded with him that I was so sorry and not to spank me, but he just told me to pull down my jeans and panties. I did, he bent me over the bed, and gave me about two dozen with the belt.

Me: Did you cry a lot?

Jenny: Like crazy! I'm sure you know what it's like. Start off yelling OWWW a lot and crying out, then begging him to stop, then just sobbing and wailing until he decides in his infinite man wisdom that you've gotten enough discipline. I don't mean to complain, I directly disobeyed him and he punished me thoroughly like I needed. Still sucked though :)

Me: I know. Did he whip your thighs too?

Jenny: Low on the butt, maybe very top of my legs, but mainly my butt. It had deep red belt marks criss-crossed on it when he was finished.

Me: :(

Jenny: Then he gave me half hour of corner time which I really hate, before hugging me and comforting me and saying it was over.

Me: Corner time after spanking is the worst!

​Jenny: It really is. I have to stand there with my nose touching the corner and hands at my side.

Me: You said earlier that you were spanked until a late age. I was spanked a lot growing up but was still surprised at how bad Tom's spankings were. How different is getting spanked as an adult for you?

Jenny: I guess they're pretty similar actually. I grew up in a Christian family with strict punishments, usually a whipping from Dad or a long session with Mom's hairbrush. Same whipping different guy now :) In both cases I hate the spanking itself, it's agony. But afterward I feel so much better.

Me: So it helped your relationship a lot?

Jenny: A ton. Like you can probably tell, I have a side of my personality that's always needed to be reined in. He gives me exactly what I need, and we almost never bicker or argue anymore. He's in charge, it's that simple. Not for everyone, but it works great for us. I would never go back.

Me: That's really nice to hear. Thanks so much for doing this interview with me today.

​Jenny: You're very welcome. Good luck with your blog!

<![CDATA[Domestic Discipline Spanking Implements]]>Wed, 11 May 2016 20:57:20 GMT/blog/domestic-discipline-spanking-implementsAlso known as "What I'm Spanked With" :)

Of course there's nothing special about domestic discipline when it comes to implement choice, the same things parents use to spank with are what husbands use to spank wives. But today I'm going to go through the list that Tom uses on me.
                                                                                          The Hand

The hand is always, well ... handy :) Tom mainly gives me a hand spanking as a warmup or reminder. Even though I haven't got many spankings with just the hand since age 10 or so, I can still say that when a strong man is slapping your butt over and over, it hurts! Tom could definitely get me to hysterics with just a hand spanking. So why is he is always grabbing other things to spank me with? I'm going to have to talk with him about this!
                                                                           The Wooden Spoon

I would also put other kitchen utensils in this category, like rubber-tipped spatulas. These aren't usually considered the most masculine implements, for example they're what my mom almost always spanked me with. But Tom will sometimes give me lighter spankings or warm-ups with these, particularly the wooden spoon in the picture.

The best description I can give for spoons and spatulas is "stingy." It's not a deep, long-lasting impact. But they sting really bad at the time, and a long session with the wooden spoon can be very difficult to get through. He tends to spank very hard and fast with these, giving me dozens of fiery swats with little time to catch my breath. 
                                                                              The Hairbrush

​Whoever first had the idea to take a lovely, innocent thing like a hairbrush and start slapping a girl's butt with it? Hairbrushes are really, really painful. The one in the picture above is a Mason Pearson brush I've had since college. If you have long hair, it's great ... until some guy starts spanking you with it!

The hairbrush gets me sobbing from the first swat. He tends to spank hard and slow, methodically putting red ovals of pain on my butt and upper thighs. The full spanking is usually at least a couple of dozen, not that I can ever keep count. After the first dozen I'm always yelling too loud.

I hate to admit it, but the hairbrush is VERY effective discipline. No matter how bratty a girl may be at the start, I guarantee the brush will change her attitude quickly.

                                                                                     The Belt

The belt sucks. There is no noise that gets butterflies in my stomach like hearing him unbuckle his belt ... even when he's not whipping me with it!

It all starts with the position. Any other time I get spanked, it's over his lap which is at least comforting. But for the belt, I have to bend over the bed or sometimes an armchair. He slowly lifts it up while I get more and more nervous, and then SLAPS it down on my butt. Instant agony. I'm always crying and pleading with him from the first lick. 

Like most girls, I particularly don't like having my lower butt and upper thighs paid attention to when it comes to discipline. There is just nothing worse than having him whip the tops of my thighs with that leather. I make a miserable, high-pitched wailing the entire time he's whipping me there.

Since he goes slowly, sometimes I'll recover enough in between licks to beg him to stop the punishment, but of course he never does until he's ready ... which is usually when I've broken down completely into hysterics with no resistance left in me.  Belt whippings are the worst.

Of course, there are other ways he punishes me too, and maybe in another entry I'll go through those too. I hate having my mouth scrubbed with soap, but at least it beats the belt!​