Pretty Legs

We were having a wonderful night at the club. The dinner had been delicious, and the company of several couples with whom we were close was warm and cheery. My wife, Becky, and I had just stepped onto the dance floor for the first time that evening. With a familiar thrill, I felt her nestle her head against my shoulder; this was when she usually murmured something sweet into my ear. What she said this time was more of a shock than something sweet in my ear. "When we get home this evening, I am going to give you a nice, long spanking."

My first reaction was to laugh at her joke, but I found myself saying, "What do you mean, honey?" Becky leaned back and looked at me a bit disdainfully and mimicked me, "What do you mean, honey? What part of it didn't you understand? I know from your sister that you know very well what a spanking is, so I shall repeat - when we get home this evening, I am going to give you a nice, long spanking. Now do you understand?"

I knew that my sister, Helen, who is two years older than me, had become good friends with Becky, but I didn't know they were close enough for Helen to have told her that I was spanked by my mother well into my mid-teens. In a flash, I realized that Helen must have told her about the time when I was sixteen and had been tormenting her, and that Mom had supervised while she brought me to tears with a really hard spanking. I was angry with Helen and getting worried about where this was going as well.

I asked the first logical question I could think of: "What would you want to spank me for? What did I do?" Becky's expression did not change as she said, "Rick, I know you are fascinated by pretty legs. I don't even mind you sneaking admiring glances at women who have them. But your comment to Glenda about her legs was quite a bit more than just a pleasant compliment; I was embarrassed by it, and I intend to do something about it. You are going to be spanked."

Now I bristled. "My comment wasn't that big a deal, and I'm damned if you’re going to spank me. I'm your husband, not your child." 

Becky did not get angry or even upset. She simply smiled and said, "Yes, you’re my husband, and I do love you, but there are times when you act like a naughty boy. This evening is one of them, and, yes, I am going to spank you. You really know you deserve it, and you are going to get it. Now let's enjoy the dance and not talk about it until we are on the way home, then I will enjoy hearing you try to talk your way out of it." 

The look on her face said that the subject was closed. We had a great evening of dancing, cocktails, and joking with our friends. Of course, the spanking issue was constantly in the front of my mind, but I still had a good time.

When we got in the car to drive home, I noticed that Becky let her skirt ride well up on her very pretty legs. For the first few minutes, little was said, as I glanced continually from the road to Becky's legs. She is right; attractive legs do fascinate me, always have. I thought optimistically to myself, "All is forgiven and forgotten; the display of her beauty is meant to set the stage for a great night of passion." Then Becky said, "Do you like what you see, dear?" It won't be long before you are lying across them while I spank your deserving little bottom." 

My defiance slipped a little, and I found myself protesting instead of resisting. "Aw, come on Becky, you surely aren't serious. I didn't mean to embarrass you. Your legs are prettier than Glenda's. I was just kind of joking around, that's all. I thought you had forgotten it."

At that point, Becky's look became determined, her voice quiet but assured. "I will forget it after I have brought you to tears, dear, then all will be forgiven. But I don't want you to think for one instant that there is ANY way you can avoid my spanking you. There isn't. And, furthermore, in the future, I shall make it a practice to spank you whenever I feel you need it, and you will accept it as you did your mother's spankings. Most men can profit from a dose of maternal discipline, and from now on you will be one of the lucky ones."

We were pulling onto our street, and she said in a tone that brooked no argument, "After you take the babysitter home, come straight to the basement rec room, and we will take care of this little matter without waking the children." Some of the fight seemed to be leaving me; I just mumbled, "We'll see."

After taking Debbie home, I walked into the house in a bit of a daze. I didn't even consider not following her orders and went down to the rec room. Becky was there, her face showing not a trace of doubt or indecision. "I am glad to see you have accepted the consequences of your misbehavior. Now, I want you to go up to our room and bring me my hairbrush." I started to say something, but Becky cut me off. "Don't make things harder for yourself, bring me my hairbrush – Now." Her cool tone dismissed me.

I knew that each time I complied with one of her orders, I was building her ability to control me, and that it was going to result in a discipline session I really did not want. But I did not seem to be able to control myself - she seemed in control. I went quietly upstairs, picked the hairbrush from her vanity, and returned to the rec room. 

"That's a good little boy," Becky cooed as I handed the brush to her, standing awkwardly in front of her. "Now step around to my side so that I can lower your pants," she said, as she folded her own skirt neatly back, revealing those great legs.

If I were going to resist or refuse, this was the last chance for it. But, the sight of her legs hypnotized me. I stood there as she unbuckled my belt and lowered my pants. Then she hooked her fingers over my skivvies and jerked them down to my knees. She smiled as she noted my arousal and, in an unemotional tone, said, "I'm glad to see that you appreciate me taking the trouble to correct your misbehavior. In the future (I certainly didn't like the sound of that), I shall order you to get across my lap and expect immediate obedience, but since this is your first spanking from me, I will tell you this once. When I tell you to get over my knees and stay there until I say I am done, you will do so immediately. If you get up, I will have to start your whole discipline session over again, and it WILL be harder.

Lowering myself across my wife's lap is one of the most difficult things I have ever done, especially since I knew that this would be the first of many spankings and that, as of that evening, our relationship would be completely changed.

"As I said before, I shall discipline you whenever and however I choose; when decisions are to be made, discussion will be permitted, but once I say that the discussion is over, you will be very well advised not to try to continue it. Do you understand?" 

I heard myself saying, "Yes, honey," and was told that during my punishment sessions, I was to address her as "Ma'am.”

"Yes, Ma'am," I said.

"Now, when you are ready to begin your new life, you can get across my lap" she said with a motherly smile. Almost teasingly, she added, "Just look at my legs, at the tops of my stockings. You know you really want to lie across them. Just do it, Rick, you will be much happier after it is over, take my word for it." Then, in a sterner voice, she added, "You have been a naughty little boy, and as your wife, I have to punish you. You know you want me to anyway." 

I don't know whether it was thirty seconds, or a minute, or two minutes. Neither of us said a word. I stared at her lovely lap, one side of me saying "resist" and the other saying "surrender". She had reminded me of the spankings my mother gave me, and it began to seem somehow "right" to have the woman in my life controlling it. Slowly, I sank into the position she wanted.

"That's a good little boy, Rick. Now this is going to hurt more than you can imagine. I am going to give you a much longer and harder spanking than any you have ever had. I won't stop until you are crying, but don't worry. I won't stop when you start crying. Hmmmm, perhaps it would be better for both of us if we repositioned you over my left knee, so that I can hold your legs down with my right leg. I have a feeling you will need to be kept where I want you."

I meekly complied as she shifted me into the position she desired. She said brightly, "I have been reading a lot about how to correctly discipline and spank naughty husbands on the DWC website lately. I know you so well, and I was just positive this would become necessary." With that, she delivered four hard smacks to my backside. "How did that feel, dear?" Whap, whap, whap, several more were delivered in rapid succession. I was in pain; this spanking stuff REALLY did hurt. 

"I hope my naughty little boy is satisfied to be getting what he knows he deserves." 

I responded with "Yes, I have had enough, and I see your point."

Becky chuckled. "The warm-up is over, dear, now the spanking is officially beginning." With that, she rained down smack after smack to one buttock then the other. I squirmed against the pressure of her restraining leg, and that of her hand in the middle of my back, but she merely increased the pressure and cooed, "Now be a good boy and don't try to resist. It will be better for you if you don't." 

Smack, whap, whack, the spanking continued, and I began to cry, I mean really cry; I had been begging for mercy for several minutes, but now I was in tears. "Good boy," I heard. "You are crying. I like that. " Becky continued to spank me; it seemed harder than before. I wasn't resisting anymore. I was lying over her knee, accepting what she felt must be given without movement or plea. I don't know how much later it was, perhaps two or three minutes of continuous spanks, until she finally stopped.

"Get up dear, leave your pants down, and go stand in the corner." She watched me with a satisfied smile on her face as I hobbled to the corner she had indicated. "You will not touch your bottom until I tell you that you may," she said, as I heard her dialing the phone. 

Her first words made my heart sink. "Hello, Glenda, my naughty little boy has had his spanking and is standing in the corner. (Now I understood the enigmatic glance I had seen them exchange when I made the comment about Glenda's legs.) “Oh, he is veeerry sorry, and I am sure he will want to apologize to you. Yes, I'll drive him over tomorrow evening. Really? You gave Jerry a spanking, too for not speaking up to Rick about making rude comments to you? Good, they both deserved it. I am sooo glad you told me about the DWC. After hearing what the lifestyle has done for you and Jerry, I knew it was just a matter of time until I imposed it on Rick." The two girls continued to chat for ten or fifteen minutes. I was totally mortified.

"Oh, and in case you didn't hear my discussion with Glenda on the phone, when we go over there tomorrow evening for you to apologize, if she wishes to spank you too, you had better not object and embarrass me. As a DWC woman, and my friend, if she wants to punish you, she has my blessing.”

On the way to the bedroom, Becky said, "I told you your life was going to change, and after tonight, there are going to be a lot of changes. Honey, believe me, this will be good for both of us, and it will make our great relationship even stronger. And, by the way, you are probably harboring some anger toward Helen for telling me about your spankings as a teen-ager, which was not that long ago. Take my advice, dear, let it go. Helen is a woman, and my friend. Do you understand? Of course you do! Now undress and I will tuck you into bed. "

Becky was right, of course. I have had more spanking since then than I can count. But, I AM a happier husband, and I must admit a better man.