No More Snooze Alarm

Morning came too soon as the alarm went off at the usual time. Instead of getting up, I rolled over and pushed the snooze button. Just as my head again hit the pillow, I felt Kat's soft lips on my neck. "Come on sleepyhead," she whispered, "time to get up." "Oh honey," I groaned, "I really need some extra sleep. Please, just this once, let me sleep in a little." She said not another word but rolled out of bed. I took it as 'silence means consent' and with a heavy sigh, rolled over and closed my eyes.

For a while it was like old home week, sleep for seven minutes till the alarm sounded, hit the snooze and sleep another seven. I played this snooze alarm game till the last possible moment, finally getting up at 5:58.

I went to the bathroom and got my shaving mug and headed for the kitchen. Kat was sitting on the couch with the newspaper in front of her and only grunted at my greeting. I went into the kitchen, which obviously had not been the action central. Oh well I thought as I put the kettle on, I could hardly expect a good breakfast with time so short. I turned the fire to the lowest point so as not to burn the pot up while I was in the shower and went back to the bathroom.

After my shower, I returned to the kitchen to fill my shaving cup. She was still sitting on the couch reading the paper. This time I said nothing.

Finished in the bathroom, I glanced in the living room as I went to my office to dress. She was still reading the paper but was dressed now in tight-fitting jeans. I also noticed she had on perfume, as I could smell it as I passed her bathroom. It was a light, and very feminine scent called Lace, and it was one of my favorites.

After I finished dressing, I went to the kitchen to make my lunch and fill my water bottle. Then back to the office to get my stuff together. After putting on a sweater jacket, I grabbed my briefcase and turned out the light.

As I rounded the corner from the hall to the living room, the scene before me took a minute to reconcile. Kat was sitting on one of the dining room chairs, purposefully placed in the middle of the room. She was wearing jeans and boots with a man's white dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled up. Her hair was combed and she was wearing makeup. She was seated with one leg elevated, the heel of her boot hooked over the bottom rung. She leaned forward, her right elbow on her knee with her fist under her chin. Her left forearm was lying across her leg. In between her legs, from her hand, dangled her hairbrush.

"I trust the extra sleep will be worth it," she said. It seemed as though she looked right through me. "Now," she said, I want you to think very carefully before you answer this next question. Are you ready?" 

"Yes ma'am," I said, "but do you realize what time it is? Can't we do this when I come home? I going to be late to work." 

"Oh yes," she replied, "I know exactly what time it is, and as for your being late, yes you will be, and that's just too damn bad. Now here is the question, think back to Monday morning. What did I say when you started to play the snooze game? The same game you mistakenly thought I allowed you play this morning? Think carefully now, you know what happens to liars." 

My mind flashed to the memory of the taste of Lavender and answered, "You said that there would be no more snoozing, that I was to get up when you said or when the alarm went off, whichever came first." 

"Very good," she said sarcastically. "Now did you or did you not break the rules when you stayed in bed past when your alarm went off?" 

"Well, I guess so, but . . ." 

"No buts. Did you or did you not disobey me? Yes or no." 

"Yes," I admitted. 

"Well now just what do you think I'm going to do about that?" 

"Spank me?" I ventured, knowing full well her intention. 

"Right again," she said. "You not only missed a great breakfast with the best of company, but you are going to be late to the office and, as an added bonus, you are going to go to work with a very red bottom. Now unload your burden and get over here."

I walked slowly to the couch and placed my stuff there, then turned slowly and walked over to stand in front of her.

There was a time when I had to take my pants down before she spanked me. Now, she insisted on doing it herself. As she began to tug at my belt she said, "You are going to be very sorry you disobeyed me, and your fanny is going to be even sorrier." She finished unfastening my pants and jerked them down around my ankles. "You have gone too far this time mister, and I am telling you that I will not tolerate your wanton disobedience any longer." She slid my underwear down and picked up the brush. "Get over my knee right now," she said tapping the brush impatiently on her thigh. I laid myself across her lap and attempted to steel myself for the worst. "Bad boy,” she said in a shaming voice, and the first spank fell with a resounding crack that I was certain could be heard for blocks.

The spanking was lengthy and painful, although she stayed pretty much on the fleshy part of my buns, she snapped the brush with gusto all the while scolding. "You are a very naughty boy," she said as she continued her attack on my bottom. "You should be ashamed of yourself; big man like you over his wife's lap having his bottom blistered like an unruly ten year-old." The brush continued to fall. "From now on you are going to do as I say when I say it. Every time you fail to follow the rules, I will spank your bottom crimson, and I will spank you as many times as is necessary, until you learn that you cannot choose which rules to follow and which to break." The spanking continued and so did the scolding. “I will spank you every day, three times a day if that's what it is going to take for you to come to the realization who is boss around here.”

The spanking stopped. I was sobbing miserably.

She laid the back of the hairbrush on my hot cross buns and said, "I hope this will teach you a lesson." This was followed by three fast spanks. "Are you going to get up when you are suppose to from now on?" 

Again, the brush fell and I answered through my tears, “Yes ma'am, I will, I promise. Please no more.”

“Oh, I don't think you are sincere enough,” she said. 

Again the brush bit me in several different places and I wailed, "I do mean it, I will never over-sleep again." 

"Bet your bippy you won't," she said and again the brush rained down on me. "You won't ever oversleep again, because if you do I will not wait to spank you. You will be taking a hot shower with a steaming bottom." And the spanking continued.

By this time, I was, as I had many times in the past, starting to doubt my motives for being in this humiliating position. The thought of being over her lap was enough to make me drop my own pants and fling myself at her waiting knees. But, during the actual spanking, especially a punishment spanking like this one, I really wanted to be somewhere else. It was funny in a way, and I guess not that unusual. Although at that moment I wanted to be able to turn back the clock, or at the very least for her to stop, I knew that I could not escape and that she would stop when she was ready and not before. I also knew that after it was over, I would feel better, as I would be drained of emotion and completely at peace with the world and myself. It was this thought that made the spanking worth the pain, and the delicious feeling afterward was something that could only be experienced. There was no way I could explain the afterglow of a sound spanking that made me feel like the most loved person in the universe. With each stinging spank, I knew that the wonderful feeling would remain even longer when it was over.

Kat continued to spank my bottom with her hairbrush. She also continued to scold me. At this point I was way over the hump. The spanking itself was keeping the home fires burning and my crying had reached the saturation point. I surrendered unconditionally and lay a limp spanked mess over her lovely lap, when once again she stopped.

"Now,” she questioned, "has my bad boy learned who makes the rules?" SPANK "Yes ma'am, you do," I cried. "Are you going to do as I say, when I say?" SPANK "Yes ma'am always." SPANK "You are lying," she said. “In addition to a blistered bottom, how would you like to go to work with the fresh taste of soap in your mouth?" "No ma'am, please don't do that." "Then answer the question without exaggeration." The brush came down three times and I cried, "I will always try to be good and to follow your rules," "That's better,' she said. "And when you do break the rules, and you will, what can you expect from me?" "You will punish me as you see fit," I said. "Right." SPANK "Now I am going to finish this spanking. When I get through you are to go stand in the corner until you can stop crying. Then wash your face and come to me for inspection before you go to work. Understand?" "YYYes ma'am." "Good, now one last thing. You are going to beg me to spank you in a manner that you know I will anyway." If you do a good job and ask me nice, I might go easier on you. If not..........

This was a new wrinkle. She had never ever wanted me to beg to be spanked. Now she not only wanted it, she was demanding it. "Well?" she questioned. "Ma'am, I have been a very naughty boy and deserve your loving discipline. I beg you to spank my bare bottom as long and as hard as you think necessary. The spanking should be such that I will not soon forget what will happen if I go against your wishes or otherwise act naughty. I ask that you spank me now, as I need it and want to be purged of all my guilt."

With that she said, "I accept your request and will now fulfill it. You are a very naughty boy at times, and it is because I love you that I punish you when you misbehave. I will now finish your spanking in the manner in which you requested." 

With that she laid at least fifty more swats on my sit down in a volley the made me cry and howl so loud and so long that by the time it was over, I was breathless. She put a period on the session with one last punishing spank across both buns and pushed me to the floor. "Get up and go to the corner." I said nothing and all but ran to the corner, still crying and rubbing my burning bottom.

I spent a long time sobbing loudly. She seemingly paid no attention at all but went about her business. I stood with my nose in the corner. My bottom seething with fire. I took heart in the fact that once the fire cooled some, the warmth of her love would be with me for days, even if there were no more spanking during that time, which now seemed very unlikely.

When I finally got hold of myself, I pulled up my pants and went to the bathroom. I Looked in the mirror at my backside. It was as red as she had ever made it. The signs would not fade quickly. I washed my face, brushed my hair, added some cologne and looked at myself. The only sign that I had been crying was the red eyes, which I was sure, would disappear before I reached the office.

I came back into the living room. She was in the kitchen straightening up. I got my stuff together and went to the kitchen. She was at the sink, and I came up behind her and kissed the back of her neck. "MMM," she muttered. I turned her around and looked her in the eye. Then I got down on my knees and said, "Thank you ma'am for loving me enough to spank me when I'm wrong. Your loving discipline gives me direction I never had before. I love you." She pulled me up. Planted one on me, and said, "You are a bad boy sometimes, but I am very glad that you are my bad boy. Now get to work, I will call and tell them you overslept.

On the way to the office, I sang songs like No Greater Love. I was very up though quite uncomfortable. I whizzed through the day and hurried back to her. That night we made love. I was wonderful sex with lots of laughing - except when she played with my bottom - and lots of consensual touch, slap and tickle. There were climaxes of course and when it was over, it was late. She said, "Tomorrow will be a good test of the lesson I hope you learned this morning. It will be very hard for you to get up when the alarm goes off, but get up you will. If you even entertain the idea of sleeping in, I will spank your bottom twenty-five times for each minute you procrastinate." 

"Yes ma'am, I understand." 

"Good night bad boy," she teased. She kissed me and rolled over so I could cuddle in behind her, where I slept most of the night.

When the alarm sounded the next morning, I was out of bed and into the shower. I think she was somewhat disappointed that she was not going to get to take me to task again. She needn't worry, there will be other times and other reasons. If I didn't see to it with my actions, she would think of something; of that I was sure.