Reminder Spanking

By Jonathan Quincy Graves

I watched his face grow pale in response to my request.

“Pardon me, dear,” he said. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, baby, you’ve been a good husband lately. I know you’ve been trying hard, and I’m proud of you. But darling, are you allowed to question me when I tell you to bring me the paddle?”

“No, dear,” he said, “of course not, and I’ll get it for you at once. I was just confused.”

“I understand, baby, so stay here a minute while I try to untangle your bewilderment. Do you remember what happened the last time we had the Johnsons and the Millers over for barbeque?”

“Yes, dear.” His pale complexion flushed to scarlet as he recalled the humiliation of that evening a month ago.

The Johnsons and the Millers are neighbors in our age group—empty nesters with kids out building families of their own. Marge, Evelyn and I see, or at least talk to, each other almost every day, and the men frequently golf together when the weather allows. The six of us like to gather every week or two, especially in the summer when we can cook and eat outside.

Hubby is the recognized Bar-B-Que King of our little group, although our friends kid him by saying his latest batch of ribs was almost perfect. And that with more practice, there’s no telling how succulent they might become. Our friends, out of their natural goodness, would do their part in consuming the practice runs.

It is our turn to host again this evening, and we have everything ready for their arrival. The ribs have been in the smoker since early this morning. I love the hickory smoke smell that greets me when I walk out onto the deck.

“Tell me what happened during our last gathering here, baby,” I said. I knew I was tickling one of those memories he’d do anything to forget.

“I didn’t stop at two beers as I was supposed to,” he said.

“That’s right, you didn’t, but what else did you do?”

“Um, I gave you backtalk when you reminded me in front of the others.”

“Yes, you did. What did you say? Do you remember?”

“I… I told you I wasn’t a child and could manage my own drinking.”

“That’s close to what you said. Your actual outburst was ruder. But that aside, were those two claims true? Were you not acting childish sassing me? And were you managing your drinking within the limits I established?”

“No, ma’am.”

“No?”

I gazed at him, wearing a pleasant smile, waiting for him to continue, but the poor man was flummoxed.

“I asked you to respond to two claims that you made that evening,” I coaxed. “So, your ‘no’ applies to which of those two assertions?”

“Both, ma’am.”

“That’s right, hubby. You were both being childish and acting out of control that evening in front of our friends, weren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. So, what happened next, darling?”

“You corrected my behavior, ma’am.”

“Yes, I certainly did do that,” I said with a laugh. “Remind me of how I corrected you that evening in front of the Johnsons and the Millers.”

“You spanked me,” he muttered.

I hate it when he looks at the floor and mutters a response to my questions in a voice so low no normally hearing-able person can discern. “I’m sorry, baby, I couldn’t hear you. Did you say that I spanked you right there in front of our friends?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s right, but say it clearly. Don’t mumble, dear.”

“You spanked me, ma’am,” he said, clearly and distinctly while looking at my face.

“I did. But did I first take down your pants and your boxers in front of Evie, Marge, and their husbands?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Say it, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am, you took down my pants… in front of everyone.”

“That’s right, and then did I take you over my knee so that your cute, spankable, bare bottom was on display as an object lesson for Sam, Bill, and their wives?”

“Yes, ma’am. You, you took me across your knee…”

“Then I spanked you with my sandal until you showed genuine remorse. I might have felt sorry for you and even saved your correction until after our guests were gone, if I had not warned you repeatedly of the consequences of sassing me in public. So, what happened next?”

“You sent me to stand in the corner where the deck joins the house near the back door.”

“Our friends had a charming view of your bright red bottom while you stood there. Marge and Evelyn seemed to enjoy the sight immensely. Strangely, I don’t think Sam or Bill so much as glanced in your direction through the entire thirty minutes.

“When I let you out of the corner, what did I tell you to do next?”

“You told me to go and put on my pajamas.”

“Yes, and then what?”

“I was to come back out, say goodnight to our friends, and then go straight to bed for the night.”

“That’s right, baby, and what else did I include in my instructions to you that night?”

“You told me if I pouted, showed any disrespect, or other sign of attitude when I said goodnight, you’d take me right back over your knee for another dose of your sandal.”

“I did, didn’t I,” I said and chuckled. “You may not realize it, but I almost executed that threat. You took a long time to put on your jammies.”

“I had to wash my hands and face and brush my teeth.”

“I’m sure that explains it. Once you did rejoin us, you did a nice job of thanking everyone for coming and wishing them goodnight. I was relieved, actually. I did not want to have to spank you, in front of our friends, twice in the same evening. They had not yet fully recovered from the once. I’m not sure that Sam and Bill have recovered still.

“That ended up being an early night for you. What time was it? About eight o’clock?”

“Eight-fifteen, ma’am.”

“I meant to ask you later that night, but you’d fallen asleep before I joined you in bed. So, answer me now. How embarrassing was saying goodnight like that to our friends?”

“It was the most humiliating thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“Oh, my poor baby. I thought the men were a little gruff, but the girls said you looked adorable in your jammies. They both gave you big, supportive hugs, didn’t they?”

“Yes, and they both also patted me on the butt.”

“So, can you guess now why I am sending you for the paddle this afternoon?”

“As a reminder spanking? So I won’t screw up again tonight?”

“You got it in one, baby. Fetch the paddle, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He wasted no time getting the paddle and bringing it to the kitchen, where I waited. I took it from him, laid it on the table, and stripped his pants and boxers below his knees.

“Over you go.”

I’d spread my knees, and he lay over my thigh so I could clamp him securely in place with my other leg. And, as always, he volunteered his hand—reaching back so I might hold his wrist well up his back. He was going nowhere until I released him.

“As you correctly guessed,” I said, “this paddling is being given as a reminder spanking.”

I delivered ten brisk, moderate spanks to his bare bottom. I know my favorite paddle delivers a surprising sting when applied to naked flesh. So, even with moderate effort on my part, ten swats cannot be fun for my husband.

Finished, I let him loose and told him to get up. As I have taught him, over the years, he thanked me in the traditional manner.

There was no need for corner time, so I told him what I wanted of him next. “I left a pair of panties out on our bed. Change out of your boxers and put those on.”

“You want me to wear your panties tonight?”

“Think of it as one more reminder. You say that being spanked and sent to bed last time was the most humiliating evening of your life. Imagine if I have to take down your pants and spank you again tonight, and our friends see that you’re wearing panties. How humiliating will that be?”

“That would be worse.”

“Are you going to remember to be a good husband tonight—limit yourself to two beers, and give me no back talk if I tell you to do something?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy. Go change. Our friends should be here soon.”

I am blessed with a good, teachable husband, and he has been especially good lately. I hope he keeps his act together tonight. Evelyn and Marge would love to see a repeat of the last time we hosted at our house. They may try to trip him up and precipitate another such scene.

Both wives are considering ways to introduce domestic discipline into their own marriages. Since they are two intelligent, strong-willed women, I’m betting Sam and Bill—both average adult males—have little chance of maintaining their un-spanked status quo through the summer.

END

Copyright © 2022 by Jonathan Quincy Graves. All rights reserved.  Please do not repost or use for any commercial purpose without written approval from the author.