She Has One Job

This is fiction. At least this time it is.

She has one job. Make sure the bills are paid. That is the only thing I have delegated to her. All other things, minus that responsibility is mine. Everything ~ mine.

Sure we do lots of things together. We collectively make sure the house runs, usually, like a well oiled machine. The kids do not notice any ripple in their day to day lives. I make that happen. This is what happened yesterday morning.

I ushered her and the kids off to school and after everyone left, the power was cut off. We have no power in the house. We have the money. It’s in the account. And yet, I was scrambling to get the power company out here to re connect the power before the kids got off the bus in afternoon. I got the notice two weeks ago. I said then, “Honey, please pay the water and the power companies. I remember as of it was yesterday. And yet, I am using a flashlight in the bathroom to ready myself for work.

Photo by David Kelly Artistics

I called her to let her know. She scrambled to the online checking account. “Honey, I know I paid it two weeks ago.” I remember telling her to do it. I did not remember her telling me or giving me the confirmation numbers, however. “I know I did it” she said. “I have to call the power company, I‘ll let you go” I said.

I got off the phone with her and immediately called the power company and talked to a lovely lady who assured me he would get a truck out to reconnect our power after I gave her the digits to my credit card.

I texted my wife, knowing she was teaching. “I took care of it.” was all I said. The phone rang immediately. It was my wife. “ Am I going to get a spanking for this?” This was all she wanted to know! She said it with a small amount of fear and obvious guilt in her voice.

“We will talk about it when I get home tonight.” I said. I purposefully didn’t excuse the behavior by brushing it off. She must have apologized three times during our conversation.


When I got home last evening, she was sitting on the bed. Her face had the look of fear, guilt and trepidation all rolled into one. She bit her lip and looked up at me as I came in the door. She was dressed in her nightgown, had a shower and was almost ready for bed. As I entered the bedroom, I saw she had her hairbrush sitting next to her. I was surprised she would have chosen her hairbrush as she hates that stingy feeling the bathrush leaves when I use it.

“Are you ready?” I asked. She looked up at me again and said “yes.”

I told her to go stand in the corner and think about why she is in this predicament. I closed the bedroom door and I went back out to the kitchen, checked to make sure the kids we sleeping and returned to the bedroom about ten minutes later to see her standing in the corner, panties down to her knees and she, beginning to sniffle.


I sat on the bed and looked at her. I began to roll up the sleeves of my long sleeved collared shirt. I patted my lap as of to say, “commere.”

She moved slowly as she heard my hand pat my legs. Sara reluctantly lay across my lap knowing full well she deserved this bare bottom spanking. I began the lecture. “Why are we here?”

“(Sniffle) “Because I didn’t pay the electric bill.” I picked up the hairbrush.

“Smack” I could see the side of her face. Her eyes closed and she winced as the hairbrush fell on her pale white bottom. “Yes, but what else?” (Smack!!)

She paused for a moment not knowing what to say. “ “I spent $300 online yesterday” I didn’t know about that yet but we will address that another time. (Smack!!)

“You planned to fail, young lady.”

(Smack!!) By now her bottom was really starting to shine and she was starting to cry. She was writhing with every additional smack. “How many am I getting?” She inquired.

“ You will be here until I know you have learned your lesson.” I calmly said. I composed myself always in a very calm and collected manner. Never did I raise my voice or loose my composure.




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The whacks to her bottom were continuous, intensity increasing with every swat and her bottom turned a cherry shiny red in no time.

She was really sobbing at this point. I kept hearing “I am sorry” and “I won’t let it happen again”. No more was she fighting me or kicking her legs. She had given in. She had had enough.

I rubbed her soft bottom and she winced again in pain. I put the hairbrush down on the bed and turned her around. I held her and cradled her and told her “All is forgiven.” She continued to cry even after the onslaught on the tender regions of her bottom ended. I laid her down on the matteress and went into the bathroom for the cooling cream I use after her spankings. It seemed to help abate the pain and discomfort at least a little bit.

After I rubbed the cream in, all over her bottom, she seemed to calm a bit.

“ Thank you for that.” She said. “I really am sorry for not paying the bill, I won’t do that again.” she said. “I know you won’t” I said. She’s a smart girl. Very bright and usually very conciencous about the bills. But once in a while, she forgets and this is the result. In the back of my mind, I was thinking, well, we have been here before for this. This probably will not be the last time.

How Would I Spank You?

When you asked me to do this, I consented to help you accomplish your goals. Before one shred of clothing was tossed, days of conversation were had. What are your limits, what are your boundaries, this was to be discipline only. What is your safe word? Then we begin.

You say “I am so sorry.”

Make no mistake. I am an older man of experience, style and confidence. When you came to me and told me you made a mistake, I was disappointed. And I let you know it, feel it.

I let you look at the floor in discomfort and shame. I paced around you, silent, just looking at you with a look of discontent on my face.

“Go stand in the corner and think about what you did.” I say. Am I upset? No. She did not fail me. I never yell. Control is the agreement. I know what she likes, what she can take and what her hard limits are. She is in complete control of the situation. All I need to hear is one word from her lips and scene is over.

She stands and thinks for ten minutes. When I return, I sit on the bed and ask her to come to me. I bring her close. As I gaze into her eyes, she looks away and says, “Are you going to spank me for this?”

I respond, “ Did you break the rules?” She again looks disturbed as she nodded her head. “Do you deserve this?” I ask.
She again looked at me as she nodded silently.

I take her by the hand and slowly, direct her to stand before me. I look up into her face as I unbutton her jeans and quickly take them to her ankles. I purposefully redirected her to my right and exerted pressure on her back asking her body to bend over my lap. She extended her hands and placed them on the floor.

She bit her own lip and looked back at me with a mixture of anticipation, excitement and apprehension. Oh, that look. A look I have seen a hundred times before but every time I see it, is like the first time.

I inhaled deeply, taking in her mixture of perfume and her musk which told me just how moist she must be.

“ Why are we here?” I ask. “I broke the rules.” She says. She remained silent as she awaited her fate. She both hated and loved this anticipatory time between communication and execution.

I reached back and with two hands and slowly took down her panties for her. As her panties hovered at her knees, I wasted no time and began assailing her back side with a hand spanking. Slow at first and not hard. After a few minutes, I picked up the pace and made each swat progressively harder, just like she wants it. Each swat bring her closer and closer to the place she loves to be, sub space. The place where pleasure is mixed with pain.

Sometimes I recount the misjudgement if I feel she wants the feeling of reliving failing herself. It’s not my rule. It is her rule. The rule she has made for herself and asked me to enforce for her. She has asked me to set up the consequence to reinforce the incorrectness of the behavior.

She has the power. The power to submit or the power to stop everything immediately with one word, “Red”. I have never heard it. I know her limits. I know if what I have done lives up to the expectation and the request of me.

When we are through, the aftercare begins. The repair of the emotional and the physical. I hold her in my arms for a long time. Sometimes she breathes deeply and other times, she finishes with deep, heaving sobs. She always wraps her arms around me and burries her face in my shoulder. This is the kind of emotional release she craves.

She forgives herself as I forgive her. It is done. It is forgiven and forgotten. Until next time…

I wanna play

This story is fiction. There is a little spanking, a little sex, a little forced play. So if that triggers you, keep going

We walked into the house and it was on! The scene was set by one look. It’s the look, that look that says, “ I want to play!” She never actually verbalized that. It is a look in her eyes and a devious smile on her lips.

Our dynamic is different than any other I have seen. We are equals. There is no D/s going on. I like to spank and she likes to be spanked. We mix a little sex in there and that’s about it. When we play, we play and when we don’t, we don’t.

I grabbed her by her hair and roughly pulled her head back so she is off balance and able to hear every word I growl into her ear. “Slut, Strip!”
As I release the scruff of hair I held her with, she looked at me with disgust and smiled as she took off her clothes.

I took my belt from its loops and she knew what to do. We had been here before many times. I knew what she needed and she knew what I needed. I watch her crawl into the bed and lay on the mattress face down.

Without hesitation I began to slash at her body with the leather and she winced with every impact. The beads of sweat from her beautiful body began to run.

The pain mounted and her flesh began to redden. I dropped the belt. I stripped, she looked behind herself and saw how excited I was. I grabbed her hair and my member slipped between her beautiful cherry lips and down her throat. It looked like she found it hard to breathe and my member continued to stab her throat.

She coughed and tried to cry out and grab my hip in distress as each breath she took looked like her last. I pulled out of her mouth and heard “Thank you Daddy.” She immediately said that ,as she drew in a long breath and removed her lips from my cock. There was no doubt she was enjoying herself as she had asked for it in the past.

We continued the back and forth of me giving her punishments and she taking them. Smiles danced across her lips as she continued to verbally taunt me to push farther and farther with her teases. I hand spanked her crimson red ass from time to time.

“ Is that all you’ve got?”, she said, just to let me know she could go farther.
“My little sister can hit harder than that” , she continued. Her brat came out in full force as she continued to brat herself into a full on punishment. It made me see red internally but I remained calm, composed and in control. I beat her ass red one last time with my belt and and drop it to the floor.

I reached for my bag and grabbed the one implement she despised. A small, thickly cut, wooden, short handled paddle. She gazed at it then look back at me with narrowed eyes and disgust. She began to get off of her stomach before she knew it I reached for her, grabbed her by the neck and threw her back on the bed again. This time I applied weight and pressure to her. She wasn’t going anywhere.

I began the fast pased barrage on her bottom and quickly her brat attitude changed to a slightly less flippant, more compliant position. She looked at me out of the corner of your eye as our eyes met. I saw a pleading look come across her face. The pain and impacts were doing their job.

I checked in with her. I stopped momentarily to look at her bottom for open wounds and her emotion. She hadn’t said anything and all I heard from her were winces of pain. I thought she might start to cry but she had been unsuccessfully trying to get away from me. I pulled her from her face down position to over my lap. I could control your body movements much better in this position.

I began again with the paddle. She started to cry, yell and scream in pain. I could see her approaching her pain threshold. Tears were running down her face. Her makeup that was done so nicely when she arrived was now a quagmire of black lines directed by the sweat and tears running top to bottom . I had wondered if she would safeword me soon when I heard her squeak out the word “Yellow”. Ah there it was. She needs to slow. This is too much for her. I checked in again and decide this is it. She had hit her wall.

I dropped the paddle on the floor and changed her position to sitting in my lap. Her legs dangled over the side of my legs. I held her, consoled her and said “shhhhh”. “Everything is alright.” “ All is forgiven.”

She needed these things to come down again. She needed to hear my voice, my forgiveness. She needed to know I am not angry. I am never angry with her but her upbringing required that of me. So I provided it. “You are ok, Little girl.” “It’s ok, Baby.” “Shhhhhh”.

I already had a basin of hot water nearby, washcloths, towels, food and water bottles. I provided it all. What ever she needed. And I held her, and held her until she came all the way down. She could stand on her own and could help me dress her and return her to who she was when she walked in here before.

She liked me to give her oral sex immediately after a spanking so I laid her on the bed on her back and her softly, very carefully, I affectionately orally serviced her. This is what she needed. And I was more than happy to oblige. I love giving oral. After she came, and it didn’t take long, I sat her up, got her into the shower with me and washed her down before I got her dressed. I dressed with her and we went and got something to eat.

As we traversed the stairs from the bedroom, from behind, I heard, “Thank you, Daddy.”