While 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 :)

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.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

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!
​​

On 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. 

SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP

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.



SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT

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 :)

Also 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!​

Everything was so blissful in the early days.

We were always together, kissing each other, riding bikes, going for long drives with no place we needed to be. Sometimes we made fun of other couples who fought. That probably doesn't sound nice, but we couldn't imagine not getting along. Being young and married to the one you love ... what more did life have to offer?

Things didn't change overnight. 



It began a year or so in with occasional bickering. Things that would have never been an issue before suddenly turned us against each other, even if just temporarily. I blew up at him one night for staying out too late at a poker game. He yelled at me for spending too much. 

One day I realized that something had to change or things would only get worse. I came across the idea of domestic discipline for the first time when I was Googling "how to make your relationship better." It was a second page hit, I don't even know why I clicked at first, because it sounded crazy that I would go back to getting spanked. I dismissed it.

Things weren't getting better though. While I don't believe that men should be in control of everything, I started thinking more about my childhood. 

​I hated getting punished, but it always made for a fresh start. My parents weren't mad at me anymore. I got an emotional release that helped me move on. Everything went back to normal.

I brought the idea up with Tom. I was nervous and just told him about it like it was something interesting I read on the internet. He didn't say much at first, and then I blurted it out: 

"I think we should try you being in charge and punishing me when I mess up."

"You want me to spank you?" He was clearly surprised now.

"I don't know," I said. "I just want to try something to make us happy again."

He said he needed to think about it. A week went by and I thought that was it. Then one day I was reading on the sofa and he handed me a piece of paper. I asked him what it was and he told me to just read it. It was a list of rules. I still have it ... he almost always types and I smile when I see his hand-writing here :)