Wednesday, 28 December 2011

'The Secret' Part 2 - Guest Fiction

As promised here is the second part of Esskay's The Secret. I hope the conclusion is every bit as enjoyable for you all as the first part was. I've found a few pictures to set the scene.


A nice dark wood hairbrush like the one Joan purchased for her naughty husband.


From Miss Lina's House of Discpline. Joan goes to work on Stan's bottom.


From Vixen Ladies. I am sure Stan wouldn't want Joan to see this picture and get some ideas. I know from personal experience that the bath brush on a bare wet bottom = OUCH!


Joan agonized over the decision for more than two weeks. Whenever The Secret was on her mind she had a different thought. Half the time she felt fully capable of being firm enough to handle telling Stan what the new rules would be, the other half of the time she doubted she could remain determined enough against a husband who would resist her. Much of the time she thought Stan would flat out refuse to consent to her punishing him, but at other times she could picture him eventually consenting. She kept on telling herself what Kim had said -- he does want it, although he probably doesn’t know he wants it yet. He’ll be happier once I start, and so will I.

      A large part of her thinking was that Kim would be disappointed if she “chickened out.” Kim had told her most of what she had learned about boys when she was growing up, and men when she became an adult. Almost all of what her big sister had told her had proved to be accurate. Would The Secret be right also? The problem was that if this would be the one thing Kim had been wrong about, Joan’s marriage would be in serious jeopardy even before they reached their first anniversary. Could she risk it? But what would Kim think if Joan eventually told her she had decided not to take charge of her husband? Did she want to risk losing the respect she had finally gained from her big sister?

      The turning point came while Joan was shopping and happened to wander through the aisle that had the store’s inventory of hairbrushes. They caught her eye, and she stopped to look at what was there. She found herself drawn to one dark-colored wood brush that made her shiver when she thought how much it would hurt to be spanked with it. “I could buy this but still not make a final decision,” she thought. “I would have it and maybe never use it, but I’d have it in case I do decide to spank him.”

      She bought the brush, took it home, and put it in her dresser. She didn’t see it at that moment as quite the “commitment” Kim had talked about, but big sister actually turned out to be right again. From that point on, most of Joan’s thinking was based on “when” she would spank Stan rather than “if” she would spank him. She also started to rehearse in her mind what she would say to him in response to what she imagined he might say after being told he was going to be spanked.
      Stan was an engineer at a plant in The Valley, and frequently would be headed North on the 405 freeway before Joan even woke up. On many mornings he made breakfast for himself while Joan was sleeping, and too many times she waked to find a kitchen area that showed minimal or no effort to clean up.

      On Tuesday morning Stan had left a larger-then-usual mess in the kitchen which started Joan’s day off in an annoying way. No, she felt, it wasn’t bad enough to warrant a spanking -- she had seen that at least he had tried a little, although in his rush to beat the traffic he had again created extra work for her. She sent him a text during the morning that she was angry and needed to talk to him about it that night; he replied via text that he was sorry. His reply sounded all too familiar to her.

      When they did speak on Tuesday night, his promise to try harder sounded sincere, although that too had been told to her before. She pleaded with him to “mean it this time” and briefly considered threatening him with a spanking, but decided not to do so as the way Kim had explained it was that Ben and Cheryl’s husband were told they were going to be spanked immediately before their first spankings from their wives. She was afraid to venture into uncharted territory via a prior warning.

      The kitchen looked better on Wednesday morning and Joan was encouraged that maybe Stan really did mean it this time. But on Thursday her hopes were dashed -- Stan had left an even bigger mess than he had on Tuesday and anger supplanted frustration in Joan very quickly. “That’s it,” she decided. “Tonight’s the night. He’s getting a spanking tonight.”

      Again there was an exchange of texts of anger and apology -- Stan recognized that Joan was angrier today than she had been two days before and he admitted to himself that he should have done more. Perhaps it was his engineer’s sense of precise timing that prompted him to feel such a need to be on the freeway ahead of the worst traffic, but he did admit to himself in doing so he created extra work for his wife.

      He tried to apologize during dinner, but Joan told him to be quiet until after dinner when they could have a full discussion. She did appear to be angrier than Stan had ever seen her, but he had no inkling at all what would soon take place.

      Immediately after they finished eating, they moved into the small living room that was part of the apartment and Joan started right in with a “speech” that she had been rehearsing in her mind all day. She told him how frustrated she was at his lack of consideration, how he did not have the proper sense of how married couples should share the work, and how in her mind he was simply “irresponsible.” “I’ve made a decision,” she concluded. “Starting today, starting right now, you will get a spanking whenever I feel you deserve it. There is a hairbrush in my dresser in the top right-hand drawer. Go get it and bring it to me.”

      She was almost breathless awaiting his response. He stood there looking right at her with a strange look on his face, and she found it impossible to guess what he was thinking.   

      Finally he spoke, just three words:
      “Are you sure?”

      Joan had prepared for several possible responses to the first use of the s-word, but “Are you sure?” was certainly not one of them. “Am I sure,” she wondered. “Am I sure of what? Am I sure you left a mess this morning? What are you thinking of?” Still, she needed to answer his question, and she did:
      “Yes, I’m sure. Go get that hairbrush.”
      It was a small apartment, and he returned holding the brush in less than thirty seconds. Joan had moved to the couch and had moved the coffee table a few feet farther away to give her room. He handed her the brush without comment, and she commanded “Lower your pants.”

      Stan stepped out of the loafers he was wearing and removed his trousers, folding them once and placing them neatly on the coffee table. Joan could see he had an erection under his shorts but that did not deter her and she ordered “Underwear too.” Stan lowered his shorts putting his erection into full view. “You’re not going to need that tonight,” Joan said to him as she tapped her right leg with the brush. Stan moved directly to her and laid down over her lap. He had not said a word since he returned from the bedroom with the brush.

      Although the first few minutes of their discussion had not gone as she had expected, what Joan now saw was exactly as she had visualized in the last couple of weeks. Her husband was laying over her lap, naked from the bottom of his shirt to the top of his socks. His head rested on the edge of the couch with his left hand on the couch and his right hand touching the floor. His left foot was touching the floor on her right side with his right foot dangling a couple of inches above the floor.

      Joan moved her right leg over Stan’s ankles so as to better control him. She had feared he might try to get up and wanted to minimize that possibility. Then she put the brush in her right hand and rubbed the wood side against his buttcheeks. “I’m really fed up with your behavior,” she said sharply to him. “From now on, this is where you go when you disobey me. Understand?” 

“Yes,” he said and she thought she heard nervousness in his voice.

      And then she started. She brought the brush up above her head and brought it down as rapidly as she could, alternating on his buttcheeks. Stan was silent for the first couple of spanks but soon started to utter “ow” and “ouch” each time the brush landed. Joan felt his legs trying to kick upward and was glad she had anchored them with her leg. He started to squirm and was becoming harder to hold in place--she stopped for a moment and sharply said, “Stop squirming. If you keep moving around like that, I’m going to start at the beginning again.”

He weakly replied, “Sorry, honey,” but once the brush started again he started squirming again. Joan knew it was an involuntary reaction he couldn’t control and pressed down on his back with her left hand a little harder.

      Stan was starting to plead a bit, and said “I’m sorry” three times after three consecutive spanks. She thought she heard some tears through his words and remembered what Kim had said about Ben -- up to 50 spanks, no tears, above 50, he cries. She wasn’t sure how many spanks she had already given Stan, but thought it might be around 25-30. She decided to give him another 20 spanks and started to do so, but after just 10 of them, she felt he had already had enough and she ended the punishment.

      “It’s all right. It’s over,” she said to him. She eased him off her lap and he knelt by her right leg with his head buried in her lap. He was out of breath and panting, but had not cried. She let him regain his breath for a minute, then said to him, “Turn around. See that corner over there? Move your naughty butt over there and put your face in the corner until I decide you can go to bed. And if I see you rubbing your butt, you come back here for another spanking. Understand?”

      "Yes, Joan. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry,” he managed to say.

      After 15 minutes in the corner, she told him to go to bed. He turned and headed towards the bedroom, but stopped and turned back towards her. She wasn’t sure of his intentions, but he simply walked up to her and kissed her, then turned back and silently walked back towards the bedroom.
      Now alone in the living room, Joan picked up her phone and sent a text to Kim: “The Secret. Episode 1. Mission accomplished.” Within seconds, she got a reply, simply a “smiley face.”

      Still wound up, she tried to relax by watching TV, and had a glass of wine to help her relax. But by 9PM, she realized she was both physically and emotionally exhausted and decided to go to sleep. She assumed Stan had fallen asleep by now which she considered to be good news -- it had been an emotional-enough day and she was glad she could drop the stern persona she had needed to adopt earlier. Just take your brain out of gear and go to sleep, she told herself.

      She walked into their bedroom as quietly as possible and was surprised when Stan said “Hi.”

      “I thought you were sleeping,” she said to him.


      “Couldn’t fall asleep,” he said.

      “I guess that’s understandable, I suppose,” she replied. “I’ll be in bed in five minutes.”

      “OK.”

      She went into the bathroom and hoped they would not get into a discussion tonight -- she really had no idea what he might say or do if they did. She returned and got into her normal right side of the bed. Stan was on his side of the bed, lying on his right side and facing her.

      As soon as she got into the bed, Stan said, “How did you know?”

      Tonight is his night for stupid questions, she thought. How did I know what? But she had to respond so that was exactly what she said: “How did I know WHAT?”

      Stan hesitated. He was going to have to verbalize something he felt, but really didn’t want to say out loud. Finally he said slowly, “How did you know…how did you know…I wanted you to spank me?”

      Whoa! Now that was completely unexpected. He wanted me to spank him?, Joan thought. I’ve been agonizing over this for weeks, and it turns out he was one of those “few and far between” guys Kim had mentioned. Unbelievable! But again she now had to say something, so she just lied and said, “I had a feeling.”

      Stan felt he needed to explain. “Before I met you,” he started, “like most guys I went to lots of places on the web, you know, places you don’t exactly talk about to a lot of people. I found some sites about female-led relationships. Most of the men who posted on those sites were pretty happy. Maybe they didn’t like it on days when their wife actually spanked them, but most of them were generally happy they had that kind of lifestyle.
      “I know I do some stupid things some times, and I started to think that maybe when I got married, I should have that kind of wife. When I met you and we started to date, I actually fantasized a couple of times about how it would be if you spanked me. But I was afraid to tell you, I was afraid you would think I was a weirdo and drop me. After we got married, I wanted to tell you a couple of different times, but I just didn’t know how to tell you. I love you and I was afraid you would think I was crazy.”

      Had Kim never told Joan about The Secret, she might have done just that, thinking he was weird at the minimum. But now it just seemed quite normal -- big sister had given her good advice again.

      “You’re not weird, and you’re not crazy,” she told him. “You’re my husband, and I love you too.” In a more loving voice, she asked him, “How do you feel now?”

      “It hurt a lot more than I imagined,” he said. “I think I have it out of my system now. You don’t have to think about spanking me any more.”

      Joan knew her husband well enough to know exactly what that was about -- it was a weak attempt to salvage some masculine pride. Returning to the stern voice she had used earlier in the evening, she said sharply, “That’s completely wrong. I didn’t ask your permission to spank you before, and I’m not going to ask your permission in the future. I suspect we’re going to get the mess-in-the-morning problem cleared up real fast, but you can expect more spankings any time in the future I feel you need it, for any reason. Understand?”

      “Yes, Joan,” he said. She wasn’t sure, but it looked like he was trying to hide a smile.

      “And you got off easy tonight, young man, because it was the first time. From now on you can expect to do a lot of crying while you’re standing in the corner.”

      “Yes, honey,” he said. He started to slide his body towards her as he did when they were going to make love.

      “That’s wrong, too,” she said quickly. “You just got a spanking for being a bad boy, and you think you’re going to get some action tonight to make you feel better? Fat chance.”

      “Sorry, honey,” he said in a sad voice.

      Joan smiled. “But the good news is -- you have a great chance for tomorrow night!”

      He smiled, she kissed him, and put out the light.
      Stan fell asleep quickly after that, but Joan’s mind was racing. She thought about Ellen, who had been her college roommate. Ellen had moved to Seattle when she got married, but was due back for a visit the following week and the two were planning to spend some time together.

      Joan just couldn’t wait to tell Ellen about The Secret!

6 comments:

  1. Great ending, (no pun intended)reminds me of home.


    james

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  2. Thank you, James. I thought the ending was very cute, too.

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  3. Just a wonderful and hot hot story.

    Happy New Years

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  4. Excellent story throughout. Thanks for posting. Happy New Year.

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  5. Ron, Rob and OBB, thank you all for commenting. It has been my pleasure to post Esskay's work and I hope to delight you further throughout 2012 with further examples of his fiction.

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