Think Carefully 18

Taken Care Of

By Jonathan Quincy Graves

{ Note: This is the eighteenth installment of this story. If you have not read the earlier chapters, this one will make more sense to you if you do. The opener can be found here: Think Carefully. }

Wednesday night, I expected sexual intercourse with my wife. I ended up spanked with a wooden spoon instead. From anticipation of pleasure to realization of pain in one quick step. For a spanko, you might think that would feed my kink, but I guess I’m not quite that kinky. For most of my life, being spanked by a woman was the key element in my fantasy life. It was always part of any masturbation fantasies I had.

As part of my current problem, it was a week-ago Wednesday since I last shot my load. Not terribly long, I suppose, but two of those days were spent in constant teasing. Before Gloria posted her Rules for Hubby, I would have taken care of any unresolved sexual tension with my good right hand.

Yes, I was a wanker; I admit it. I preferred real intercourse with real women, but lacking that, masturbation was always available. Besides, I’ve never been much of a Don Juan with the ladies, so I used self-gratification to fill in the gaps. Eliminating my manual outlet has been more difficult than I’d expected. I’ll adjust, I guess, but my body still objects to going without.

Thursday night, I was horny and feeling sorry for myself. After dinner, I had to concentrate to keep my mind on the post-meal cleanup. I’ve got a string of fives going for this chore, and I don’t want to break it. When I finished, I went looking for Gloria.

“I’m done in the kitchen,” I said, “if you’d like to check my work.”

She did, and she awarded another perfect five. “If you keep this up through tomorrow night,” she said, “you’ll have maxed the week for this chore. Good job. I may have to raise my standards to make it more of a challenge.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “It’s challenge enough, trust me. Uhm, I know you don’t want to be pestered, but do you think you might be in the mood to fool around a little later?”

“Perhaps,” she said. “If I am, will you want another foreplay spanking to get you ready?” There was a wicked smile and a raised eyebrow behind her question.

“Really not necessary,” I said. “I’m sure I can get it up with very little effort tonight.”

“Poor baby,” she cooed. “I bet hims feeling all deprived. Well, keep your fingers crossed, husband. You never know when the mood might strike me. Right now, there’s a movie on Amazon I want to watch.”

Gloria’s movie ran thirty minutes past our usual bedtime. It was a chick flick, so I’d gone up already and was lying naked in bed under the sheet which was tented just below my midsection.

Gloria laughed when she saw me lying there, pole extended, then changed out of her clothes and into her nightie. I was disappointed when she did not come to bed naked, but still hopeful. She crawled under the covers, clasped my hard member, gave it two pumps, and let go.

“It’s late,” she said. “I’m tired.”

“Please?”

“Not tonight. I’m aware you’re having a tough week. Tell you what, I’ll take care of you before we go to work in the morning. Okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

I resisted the temptation to sneak out of bed and into the bathroom after Gloria fell asleep. This had been a difficult week of temptation, but at least it would be over tomorrow morning. I lay awake trying to take solace from Gloria’s promise while Thursday night drifted past midnight into Friday.

I didn’t hear the alarm Friday morning, but awoke as Gloria came out of the bathroom already dressed. She whipped back the covers, revealing the morning wood I was sporting. I smiled up to her before she slapped a wet washcloth on my package.

“Jeez, that’s cold! What are you doing?”

My shocked member quickly wilted, and Gloria immediately installed the blue plastic chastity device.

“We can’t have you going to work with an obvious boner tenting the front of your pants.”

“Wait! You said you’d take care of me this morning. You promised!”

“Yes, I did, and so I am. Little Blue will protect you from public embarrassment at work today. Or, if you’d rather, you can fetch my hairbrush and spend the day on your feet.”

“Damnit, this isn’t fair!”

I lay there, looking down at my crotch as the lock closed with a click.

“There, you’re all taken care of,” Gloria said and climbed off the bed. “I assume you are not interested in my counter proposal, so at least you will be able to sit at your desk. Get yourself up. You’re running late.”

I looked at the clock. “Crap, crap, crap.” My exclamation was not due entirely to the time left for me to get ready for work, but I needed to hurry. For some reason, Friday morning traffic seems to be heavier and slower than on the other days of the week.

Gloria had left before I made it down the stairs. She’d brewed a small pot of coffee, and my insulated mug sat on the counter waiting for me, along with a banana and a piece of toast.

It was typically crazy at work, as most Fridays are. I was acutely self-conscious of Little Blue, not only because it was a foreign presence in my pants, but because I had trouble convincing myself it was not obvious to everyone who glanced in my direction. Every time I went to the men’s room (using a stall, not a urinal), I checked out my reflection in the mirror. I could see no obvious bulge, but that did not convince me others did not. I spent as much of the day as possible seated behind my desk.

On the drive home after work, I went over in my mind just how I was going to convince Gloria to free me. I did not want to spend another weekend in chastity, but I also did not want to piss off my wife just prior to my Friday spanking.

Gloria called, and we spoke briefly at lunch time. She said she planned to pick up Thai food after work. So, I was not surprised when I beat her home. I was still trying to come up with a good, safe way to broach the chastity subject. Everything I’d thought of so far contained many uses of the word, “Please.” Would getting down on one knee help?

I was in the kitchen, setting the table for dinner, still mulling over my approach, when I heard Gloria come in the front door. She was not alone.

Shit! I thought. Did she bring that twit, Cynthia, home with her again? The only thing worse would be…

“Hello, John,” Marissa said as the women entered the kitchen.

“Set another place at the table, dear,” Gloria said as she deposited a half-dozen takeout boxes on the counter.

After some delay, I managed, “Hello Marissa. Welcome.” While simultaneously abandoning any hope of losing Little Blue for the evening.

Over dinner, the women talked freely about things at work and people I had not met, while I sat quietly trying to enjoy the food. Our favorite Thai place puts out some great meals, but my mind insisted on rushing ahead.

Did Marissa intend to stay and watch Gloria deliver my maintenance spanking? Why else would she be here? Would Gloria show her Little Blue installed on my package? Probably. Almost certainly. This day was in the toilet from the moment Gloria woke me up with that damned cold washcloth.

When we were all finished, I put the dishes in the sink, closed up the boxes with leftovers and put them in the fridge, and threw the empties in the trash.

“You can leave the rest of your kitchen duties for tonight, John,” Gloria said. “I’ll complete your string of perfect scores for this chore. Why don’t you go see what is on TV while Marissa and I visit. I’ll call you when we are ready for you.”

I nodded in response, too embarrassed to speak, knowing what she would want me for when she called. Then, walked out the doorway to the family room.

Doomed, I thought. There was nothing in Gloria’s words to indicate Marissa would be leaving soon. Ah well, consider the bright side. At least Marissa is an adult, not some juvenile twit like Cynthia. It will be more like being spanked in front of a maiden aunt than the teenage cheerleader from next door. Though based on her comments weeks ago, when Marissa was here helping Gloria with the Rules, maiden might not be the right term. She sounded far more experienced on the subject of kink than Gloria and I put together.

I was sitting in my chair in the family room, not watching cable news on the flatscreen, when Gloria called my name from the kitchen. Sighing in resignation, I answered, “Coming,” and headed that way. I stopped at the entry when I saw Marissa seated in a chair pulled out to the center of the floor.

“Well, don’t just stand there, boy,” Marissa said. “I’m trading in the raincheck your wife gave me last time I was here. Come over here and take off your clothes.”

I turned to look at Gloria, and she looked back with an unmistakable ‘what-are-you-waiting-for’ expression. Should have known this was coming.

I stepped into the room and undid my belt.

“You might want to start by taking off your shoes,” Marissa said. “I don’t just want your pants down. I want you in the nude. That’s how I spank bad little boys.”

I looked again at my wife. Her expression had not changed. They clearly had discussed this while I was out of the room. This was really humiliating, and it was only going to get worse.

I pulled out a chair to sit and remove my shoes. My shirt came off next, followed by my pants. I paused before removing my boxers, but found the courage and slid them down and off as well. Pretend she’s a doctor or a nurse, I told myself.

“You may keep your socks on, if you like,” Marissa said.

“Thanks,” I said. As if I was afraid my toes might catch cold.

“Come stand here in front of me.”

When I did, she gripped Little Blue and twisted it to examine its fit from several angles. “This is an excellent model and sized well,” she said. “Could be a little smaller, but that’s just my preference. I like them sized to prevent any expansion of the penis at all. I also like my boys pierced, so there is no doubt about the device’s security.”

Little Blue normally fits me with no room for expansion, but my cock had shriveled smaller than usual in anticipation of what was to come.

“Pierced?” Gloria asked. “How does that work?”

“A Prince Albert piercing goes from the bottom of the penis near the frenum up to the urethra. The hasp of a lock can be threaded through to hold a tube in place, or you can purchase a chastity device specifically designed to use such a piercing. Either makes the installation impossible to defeat short of physical destruction of the lock or the device. Plus, if the cage is stainless steel or the newer titanium, destruction of the device can be a challenge in such a vulnerable area. There are other piercing options. Some women rely on a simple frenum piercing, but I don’t recommend them. They weaken over time, in my experience. What you have on him now is a good place to start. You can always consider the next step once your chastity program is further defined.”

“I’ll look into it,” Gloria said.

Fuck that, I thought.

Marissa rucked up the hem of her skirt, took me by the hips to pull me in between her knees, and tipped me over her left thigh.

Damn, this woman is strong, I thought.

“Time to get this party started,” Marissa said. “Gloria tells me you have been overly preoccupied with your own satisfaction this week. I will correct that fault. Your pleasure will be the last thing on your mind when I’m done with you.”

She convinced me with the very first SMACK!  Marissa spanked much harder than Gloria, and I was about to learn her stamina was at least twice that of my wife’s.

Twelve spanks in, I struggled to get free. I jackknifed up, head and shoulders higher than my butt, and tried to slide down away from her. It was no good. Her thighs held me in a vise with no give.

Marissa grabbed my right arm, twisted it behind my back, forced it up between my shoulder blades, and shoved me down into position.

“You’re not going anywhere, boy,” she growled, then resumed spanking me, harder than before.

I cursed, yelled, and kicked. I used every muscle in my body to fight her, all with no effect. Nothing I could do disrupted Marissa’s spanking rhythm.

Finally, I collapsed, exhausted, completely defeated by this big, strong, experienced woman. She continued to spank me as my tears fell and my breath came in sobs.

I don’t know how long the spanking lasted. Certainly much longer than any I’d received from Gloria. During my struggles, I’d glanced at my wife. She was watching attentively, a look of approval in her eyes.

Marissa did not let me up immediately, but held me in place as I tried to get my act together. After a minute or two, she said, “How did he do on his chores this week? What is the penalty count?”

“No, please,” I moaned. My nose was streaming, so with the sniffling and sobbing I may have been incoherent.

“He had a good week,” Gloria said. “He only lost eight points.”

“I might as well take care of that as well, since I have him in position,” Marissa said. “Look in my purse. There should be a suitable hairbrush on the left side.”

The brush on my sit spot was the next thing I felt. It hurt, but surprisingly it was not as bad as I expected. I silently counted seven light spanks before the last one struck like a bolt of lightning. I yelled and tried to jackknife again.

When I’d settled down, Marissa said, “Just wanted you aware it could have been worse.”

Marissa put her brush on the table and fondled my ass with her hot, hard hand. “So, what do you say, boy?” she said. “Still think your sexual release matters in the grand design?”

“Nuh, no,” I managed.

“No, it doesn’t,” she said. “Men are created to serve and pleasure women. They enjoy pleasure themselves only at the whim of their woman, and that, rarely. The secret to a long and happy relationship is constant and well-regulated male chastity. You will be happier and provide better service to your mate if you not only accept this truth but embrace it.

“Gloria,” she continued, “does your hubby know how to properly thank his spanker for going to the trouble of correcting him?”

“Uhm, you mean,” Gloria stuttered. “Yes, uhm, he knows.”

“Good,” Marissa said. “On your knees,” she told me as she unclamped my legs and assisted me to the floor between her widespread thighs. Her panties were inches from my nose. They were sopping wet.

“Shove the gusset to the side, boy, and get busy.”

END of Part 18

Copyright © 2024 by Jonathan Quincy Graves. All rights reserved.  Please do not repost or reproduce for any purpose without written approval from the author.

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