Managed Male

Dear Aunt Kay,

This is a written assignment punishment. My wife assigned me the task of writing to you about our last discipline session. You may ask why I allow my wife to discipline me. I love my wife deeply, and I too believe that men need regular discipline sessions.

Regards, John Smith

I got up early last Friday morning, 15 minutes earlier than my wife, Susan, so that I could have the breakfast ready when she got up. It was one of my wife's rules to have breakfast ready and waiting. When Susan walked into the kitchen, I noticed that she was smartly dressed in a white blouse, a dark blue skirt that ended above her knee, dark blue nylons, and dark blue heels. I said, "Honey you look great", and I reflected on our first three years of marriage. She was a slim, trim 25, and just 3 years older than I was. She was in a bossy mood this morning. The most beautiful woman in my life, and she was my boss. She didn't say anything for awhile. She just looked at the expression on my face, trying to read what I was going to do. She told me, "Pour me a cup of coffee, my dear." She sipped on her coffee and continued to look at me. "Come straight home from work. You're going to get it good." All day at work, I had the jitters. My friends noticed that I was unusually quiet. When they asked, "What's wrong", I replied that I hadn't slept well the night before. I got out of work 10 minutes early to be sure that I would get home before my wife. I knew what would happen if I was late. Fortunately, I arrived home ahead of my wife.

When she arrived home, she was in a bossy mood. She ordered, "Go take a shower and put on your red, white and blue boxer shorts, the ones I gave you for your birthday. Then report to the living room. I have a surprise for you." I knew better than to argue with her when she was in one of those moods. I hurriedly showered and put on my shorts. As I walked back into the living room, I overheard my wife talking to one of her girlfriends on the phone. "Gloria, I spank on the bare and I spank hard," she said. Then she paused and said, "I'll see you in 5 minutes." After she hung up the phone, she walked into the living room, looked at me and said, "You remember Gloria. It just so happens that I promised to show her how I keep you in line." My knees turned to water and my stomach turned inside out as I thought of the prospect of having Gloria watch me put through my paces. Gloria had just graduated from college, so she was slightly younger than I was. Just then I heard a car pulling into the driveway. The doorbell rang and Gloria was ushered into the living room. My wife introduced us. "You already know each other." Gloria looked in my direction to acknowledge my presence. I could see that my brief attire embarrassed Gloria.

"Please honey!" I pleaded, "Not in front of her."

Susan reminded me, "Gloria's presence will add to your contrition." Susan retrieved a straight back chair and a paddle and sat down in the middle of the living room. "I have a new paddle from Aunt Kay," she said as she brandished the dreadful instrument. It was an oversized oak S-paddle with holes drilled through it. I felt overwhelmed by the presence of the two women. Here I was standing in my undershorts in front of two fully dressed women. She explained to Gloria, "I'll warm him up first." She got up from the chair, walked behind me and ordered, "All right John, bend over and grab your ankles." "Please, honey," I begged.

"Bend all the way over John," she ordered again, walked around in front of me and ordered, "and keep those knees straight." She stood looming over me and demanded, "Do you remember what you called Aunt Kay or Gloria the other day?" "No."

She reminded me, "You called Aunt Kay an old S.O.B and you called Gloria a young S.O.B. She paused and said, "Now you're going to pay for that", and she walked around behind me, raised the paddle and brought it down with a snap of her wrists. Whack! Whack! Whack! She started out slowly delivering a dozen well-placed spanks. She followed through with a volley of a dozen hard, quick strokes. When she took a pause for only a few moments, my hands flew to my behind. Before I could massage it very much, she ordered, "Bottoms up", and she meted out one stroke after another. Whack! Whack! Whack! My bottom turned hotter and hotter, and sorer and sorer. "Ouch! Ouch!" My yelps became louder and louder. She gave me another dozen strokes. I was moaning loudly by the time that she called a break. She sat down on the chair and taunted me. "How do you like being spanked like a 10-year-old boy in front of us girls?" "I loathe it," I replied.

Then she gave the humiliating order, "Shorts down." I knew that I had to obey. "All the way down to your ankles," she ordered. I obediently pushed my shorts down off my hips and let them drop. I felt so exposed, but I knew it was good for me. She got up from her chair, walked behind me and ordered, "Bottoms up." She aimed. Whack! Whack! Whack! She struck right across the center of my cheeks. She was really hitting with force now, and I was moaning loudly. She took a 5-minute break and ordered, "stand at attention hands at your side", to cool off, my red bottom. During the last part of the break, she explained to Gloria, "Now that his bottom is warmed up, it's time to get heavy", and "heavy discipline is what a man needs." After the break was over, she looked at me and ordered, "Assume the position. Bend over." My bottom was already seething hot, and she reminded me, "We've only just begun." She swung with greater force. Whish the air rushed through the holes in the paddle. Splat the paddle thrashed into my bottom. I yelped. She raised her arm and delivered another Splat, and I let out another yelp. She delivered twelve well-centered (well-deserved) strokes squarely across each cheek. "Your bottom is turning red," she informed me and she took a break. By this time, I was sobbing deeply. "It's time to take him over my knee for some ADT," she told Gloria. "Then she explained to Gloria, "ADT means advanced discipline technique." She finally sat down in the chair, raised her dress up to her waist showing her long beautiful legs and motioned to me, "Get over my lap." I knew I was in for it now and it was good for me. I walked over to her side and did not resist as she effortlessly pulled me over her feminine knees. She told Gloria, "Now I spank in fours, first the top of each cheek and then each side in alternating strokes." Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! "That's all one spank," she explained. "Now I give one dozen like that, 48 in all." The paddling went on and on, and my voice turned hoarse from yelling. I started to swing my legs high and wide in an awkward attempt to disperse the pain. Susan told me how much she liked to watch my fanny dance as my red-hot bottom squirmed, and my cheeks clenched and unclenched. "It's time to open him up for some ADT," Susan explained to Gloria without stopping the paddling. She told me to open my legs, and she pulled me higher over her knee. "I get him nice and high like this and open up that tender crease at the base of his bottom. I give him 20 or 30 like this and that gets rid of his cockiness." I yelped as each blow fell next to my sensitive parts. I noticed that each blow was not falling as hard now. "I see some blisters now," Susan said as she caressed my bottom with her hands. She called a long 15-minute break, and she said, "I got a new cane from Aunt Kay." She returned with the dreaded cane and flexed it in front of me. When the break was over, my loving wife grasped me by the arm and ordered me to stand at attention behind the chair. She explained, "I want to finish this lesson with what I call a submission test. She grabbed me, pushed me down over the back of the chair, and said, "For this you bend over the back of the chair and grab the seat with your hands." As she spoke, she nudged my legs apart, "and you keep your legs spread two feet apart and keep your bottom arched up nicely for your wife." Susan adjusted my position. "Arch your bottom up for your wife." "That spanking you just received was for being rude and nasty. The next lesson is to test your submissiveness. This is what you must do. You must hold your position, stand still on your tiptoes, and arch your bottom. You must ask for each stroke. If you get out of position, the stroke doesn't count, and you must get back into position, and ask for the next stroke." "You're going to get 12 in all. She walked behind me. "Arch your bottom and ask for the first one."

I obediently asked, "Please ma'am give me the first one."

"This is for calling Aunt Kay and Gloria SOBs," she obliged. The cane whirred through the air and made a Splat where it cut into my fleshy cheeks. "Ow," I shouted. I heard my wife telling me to ask for the next one. I obeyed again. "Please ma'am give me another one." She tapped the cane on my bottom and delivered another resounding blow. Splat! "That one doesn't count. You got out of position. Get back into position," Susan said loudly. I readjusted my position under her supervision. "Arch your bottom." I obeyed and asked for another --- and another --- and another. She worked her way down to the top of my thighs. After six strokes, I was shaking uncontrollably. Then she concentrated on the top of my thighs. I howled as the cane bit into my flesh. I lost track of the number of times I got out of position and of all the extra strokes I took. When, it was over I went into our bedroom and surveyed the damage. It was a mess, but like my wife told Gloria, "Bottoms can take a lot." After I cooled down, I put my shorts back on, and Susan asked Gloria to come visit for my next spanking.