Not a wife you want to be on the wrong side of.
Did you ever notice that men and women have completely different definitions for the word “clean”?
A man can look at a table, a floor, or a counter and honestly think it looks clean. A women could look at the very same object, and immediately feel it is filthy. A man who wanted to tidy up might clean the stains around the coffee-maker; his wife would likely pick up the machine and find grinds and stains under it that he never even thought about. A man might make the bed, and think he did a good job -- as soon as his wife entered the bedroom, her gaze would be drawn to the ripples on the bedspread, and she would think he had put almost no effort into making the bed.
Those kind of differing perspectives had proven to be quite painful to Paul Esposito on several occasions.
Paul and Virginia Esposito had a marriage that both felt was a happy one, but it was a role-reversal in several ways from marriages that might be considered typical. The two had grown up a few blocks apart in a lower-middle class suburb of Philadelphia, and had become sweethearts their first year in high school. After graduation, Paul had enrolled in trade school, and now had a good-but-not-prestigious position as a union communications worker for the phone company.
Ginny, however, had gone to college, the first in her family ever to do so. Ginny’s parents were both tall people, and she inherited enough of their genes to star in basketball in high school, and to get a full-ride scholarship to Villanova to play on their women’s team. After graduation, she started working at the local newspaper in advertising sales, and had become one of the retail sales managers in just over a year. She made more money than Paul, and was also taller than him –both of these factors intimidated him to some degree, but it had been a long time since anyone had teased him about it, and he accepted the facts with the thought that he was lucky to have met Ginny when they were young.
There was, however, one problem. One very painful problem.
Ginny actually had two “hot buttons”. One was Paul helping out around the house, especially when she was away on business. The other was misuse of alcohol.
As their marriage approached its third anniversary, Ginny had spanked Paul on six occasions, twice over alcohol issues, the other four for lack of effort around the house. The first time was just over two years before, when Paul had had a few drinks too many with his buddies, but still got behind the wheel to drive home. Happily, nothing bad had happened, at least until he got home, but at that point Paul found a furious wife waiting for him -- holding a hairbrush!
Ginny had three younger siblings, and during her high school years, she was in charge of them in the afternoon until their mother got home. Her authority included spankings, and on separate occasions, Paul had been there to see Ginny’s two younger brothers get spanked on their bare bottoms, and to listen once while Ginny’s younger sister was punished. Ginny had teased Paul that if she ever caught him with another girl, she would spank him -- that never happened, but early in their relationship, before they started going “all the way”, Paul thought that being sprawled out over his taller girlfriend’s lap with his pants down sounded quite erotic.
Thoughts of her spanking him had long since eroded by the time they were married, but a couple of weeks before the drinking incident, Paul had left a mess in the kitchen that angered Ginny. While cleaning up, the thought flashed through her mind that his behavior was about as irresponsible as her kid brothers had been on some occasions when she would have spanked them. “Maybe that’s what my husband needs now,” she fumed to herself.
Probably she never would have spanked him the first time over a mess in the kitchen, but on the night he was out with his buddies and was more than an hour late getting home, she decided his behavior was simply not acceptable, and that she would take action. She picked up her hairbrush and decided as soon as he walked in the door, he was going to be spanked.
It took less than sixty seconds from the time he walked in to the moment the brush landed for the first time.
Even if it had been a “fair fight” test of strength between the two, Ginny probably would have prevailed, but with Paul in an inebriated condition it was no contest at all -- she handled him as easily as if he had been half his age and size. She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him over to the couch, then reached out and pulled down his pants and undershorts before he even understood what was happening.
Paul had been in a pleasant drunken state as he walked in -- he knew his wife would be angry, but believed he could “sweet talk” her out of it, and perhaps even finish the night with some pleasurable sex. But within a minute of getting in, his pants were down for a very different reason. When he had first noticed Ginny holding the hairbrush he had not made a connection with an upcoming punishment, and it was only when he felt her right leg close down over the backs of his ankles that he understood she was going to spank him.
He opened his mouth to start to protest, but it was too late -- the brush came down for the first time, and it hurt!
It hurt a lot!
There is nothing like pain to help a man sober up quickly, and Paul did so. He at first loudly demanded that she stop, but she didn’t. He started to realize how helpless he was -- he was sprawled over her in an awkward position, his pants bunched up around his knees hindered any leg movement, and he could feel her strong left hand in the small of his back holding him in place. He was getting a very painful spanking, and he realized there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. His demands for her to stop changed into pleading with her to stop, and then into begging her for mercy. “I’m sorry, honey….please….ouch, it hurts….please, Ginny, please…I’ll never do it again….ow….no more, please, I’m sorry……I‘ll be good.”
And then his eyes welled up with tears he could no longer control, and he cried.
His tears did nothing to keep Ginny from doing what she considered a very thorough job. It had been several years since she had spanked one of her siblings, but she remembered with them that tears came quickly, and the real pain that made a punishment a genuine lesson came quite a bit later. In all, she delivered close to a hundred hard spanks to her husband’s rear, and by the time she stopped and released him, both she and he knew their marriage would be very different from this moment on.
Paul jumped up and did a “war dance” in front of her, trying to rub the pain from his aching butt.
“I can’t believe you did that,” he managed to squeak out between sobs.
“I did, and I will do it again any time you deserve it,” his wife replied. “Now go to bed.”
Although unhappy about it, Paul accepted the “I’ll do it again” warning without complaint. He had for years been willing to admit to himself that Ginny was “better” than he was in many ways, and now he also accepted that she had better judgment than he did. He continued to feel that if he met a woman like her now, he’d have no chance with her, and it was only because they fell in love when they were in high school that he was lucky enough to be married to her.
He made an honest effort to do what made her happy, or to at least try to avoid doing anything that would make her angry. There were two reasons for that philosophy -- firstly, he really did want to make her happy, but the second motivation was very powerful: he did not want to get another spanking!
His efforts kept his spankings few and far between. She spanked him for the second time about six months after the first one because of a mess he left in the bathroom after showering. She called his excuse of being rushed due to having to get to work “feeble”, and when he was told to bring the hairbrush to her he almost started to cry even before she started the punishment itself.
About three months after that there was a family party at which he had too much to drink, and he embarrassed himself and her with his actions and comments. As she drove home, she informed him he would be spanked when they got there. He protested it was his family, not hers, so he felt a spanking was not called for -- she told him that did not matter and if he back-talked any more to her about it he would get spanked harder and longer. He stayed quiet the rest of the way home.
In the next year, there had been three other spankings, all related to his failures to do his share around the house. As Ginny’s career was progressing, she needed to travel more often, mostly quick 1 or 2-night trips, but also a couple of longer conventions. She had become very critical of his efforts to have the house presentable when she returned. After he got spanked following her last trip about two months before, Paul promised himself he would make a great effort on her next trip to stay out of trouble.
Paul struggled internally with one question -- was he afraid of Ginny? He loved her -- that was not in question. He respected her, he admired her, he was proud of her. But was he afraid of her? He really did not want to admit that to himself. He tried to rationalize that he wasn’t afraid of her -- he was afraid of what he would do that would make her angry, but he knew in his heart that he was avoiding the real question. Is it possible for a man not to be afraid of a woman who will put him over her knee and spank his bare bottom with a hairbrush? That was the real question.
Ginny had been away for a week attending a retail advertising conference in Chicago, and Paul knew from her calls and emails that it had not been a good week for her. During the conference, she had expected to close a large advertising contract with a big chain that was expanding into the Philadelphia market, but those negotiations had hit some snags and she was not going to be able to finalize the deal during the trip. She also needed to have meetings with many other clients during the conference, and Paul could tell she was becoming very tired -- and cranky -- as the week wore on.
Paul had a union meeting on Thursday night, but he decided to miss it to spend time getting the house in shape for his wife. He had to lie to some co-workers by telling them he didn’t feel well -- in fact, he feared that if he did not get the house in acceptable condition for her, Ginny would make very sure that he certainly would not feel well when she got home!
His motivation, though, was more than simply doing what was necessary to avoid a spanking. He loved his wife, and he knew she had had a bad week. Beyond the threat to his rear end, he truly wanted her to be pleasantly surprised when she got home on Friday.
He started in the living room, which had become messy as early as Monday when he watched the football game while consuming munchies and beer. Then he moved into the bedroom -- he was of course going to sleep there that night, but he thought he would do as much as he could to make the room easy to tidy up in the morning. Same with the master bathroom – he had showered and shaved in it that morning, and it needed work that night, even though he’d have to use it again the next morning.
Then he went into the kitchen and groaned. After four days of being home alone, it and the dining area next to it were bad even by his standards. He was getting tired and realized he probably should have started in the kitchen while he still had a lot of energy. But he did what he thought would be a decent enough job there, and decided to grab breakfast from McDonald’s on the way to work tomorrow, rather than mess up the kitchen again in the morning.
Satisfied that he had at least done enough that Ginny wouldn’t be mad tomorrow, he turned in for the night.
Friday afternoons at O’Hare often do not go smoothly, and Ginny’s flight that had been scheduled for 4PM actually took off close to 6. Losing an hour flying East, it was almost 10PM by the time she pulled on to their block. The Espositos had a small home on a quiet street, but there was no garage, and on some occasions they needed to find parking that was a few minutes walk from the house. And tonight it was raining, so Ginny had to struggle walking through the rain with her umbrella in one hand and her suitcase in the other. She was soaked by the time she reached their front steps.
So it was a very unhappy woman who finally walked in. Paul rushed to kiss her and take the suitcase from her, as she tried to dry off. She was still wearing the business attire she had put on early that morning, a grey business suit with a skirt that looked even shorter because of her long legs and high heels. She took off her shoes, and tried to stomp and shake off the rain.
Paul put her suitcase in their bedroom and rushed out to try to help her. “Want a drink?” he asked.
“Thanks, yes, a little wine would be nice.”
They sat in the living room, and she started to tell him about her week. Along with having to attend convention sessions, she had had several meetings with existing clients and the failure to close the deal with the new client weighed heavily on her mind. They had made unexpected demands about freebies and concessions that would require Ginny’s boss’ approval -- and she knew they were precisely the kind of things her boss strongly frowned upon. Monday would be a bad day at work for her.
She put her wine glass down on a coaster on the coffee table, but her eyes were drawn to another spot on the table. It was a yellowish stain. Paul’s eyes were drawn to it also and he remembered he had spilt some beer there on Monday night -- he thought he had cleaned it up, but he now realized he had missed that spot.
“Really Paul?” she asked.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he said. “I thought I got it all.”
She sighed. “Let’s go to sleep,” she said.
Ginny rose to bring her glass into the kitchen. Paul had had his dinner there that night, and while he had put his dishes in the dishwasher, he had left a soiled napkin on the table, and he realized he hadn’t swept up his crumbs.
Ginny saw it also, and frowned.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. She just looked down with a very sad face.
She walked over to the dishwasher to put her glass in. Although it was dark, she wanted to look out to their patio to see if it was still raining. She twisted the wand on the window blinds -- and between the blinds and the window there was a spider in a web.
Totally surprised, she gasped and stepped back, then walked over to the table and sat down. She put her head in her hands -although Paul hadn’t seen her cry since they were in high school, he thought she was about to do just that.
She did not cry though, simply sat there looking completely miserable. Paul was unhappy too; he had made a bad day even worse for his wife, and he felt terrible about it. He sighed. “I’ll get the hairbrush,” he told her. “Are you going to do it here or in the bedroom?”
“Forget it, Paul. Spanking you doesn’t do any good.”
Paul didn’t see it that way. At that moment, he realized that he was not afraid of his wife, and not afraid of her spanking him. Yes, it would hurt, and yes, he would cry. But so what? The pain from a spanking would go away, but the pain of knowing how badly he had let Ginny down would hang around for a very long time.
“No, you’re wrong, honey,” he said. “It does do good. I wanted to make the place clean for you. But I screwed up. I didn’t work as hard as I should have. I’m sorry about that.”
He looked directly into her eyes. “I deserve a spanking. Here or the bedroom?”
Ginny looked surprised, but then the smallest of smiles started to spread on her face. “The bedroom,” she told him. He started to walk towards the room, and she rose to follow him, but she paused for a moment to pick up her shoes. Without thinking about why she was doing it, she put her shoes back on before heading towards the room. The shoes made her look about two inches taller than if she had not been wearing them, accentuating her physical superiority over the man who would soon be sprawled over her lap.
Usually when a spanking was imminent, Paul would do what he needed to do as slowly as possible, as if a delay might somehow lead to changing what was going to happen. Tonight, however, he was acting quickly. Although he had had just a couple of seconds’ lead over Ginny in reaching the bedroom, he had already moved her hairbrush from her dresser to the bed, and he was in the process of making himself naked from the waist down when she walked in.
She surveyed the scene, and was somewhat pleased by his attitude. He had never been this cooperative before about a spanking, and she almost felt sympathetic towards him. But then she remembered how he had let her down with the messy house, and decided a serious lesson from her hairbrush was completely appropriate.
“Take everything off, not just the bottoms,” she told him. It was a little different from what she had demanded in the past, but he complied immediately, and was completely naked in seconds. Ginny walked over and sat on the bed with Paul moving to the right of her. Even with her sitting and him standing, his eyes were just a few inches above hers, and he made eye contact with her.
“You’re going to really get it this time,” she said to him.
“It’s OK. I deserve it,” he said.
He lay down over her knees, and she started spanking almost immediately with a series of hard spanks to each butt cheek. He made the usual sounds: grunts, groans, “ows”, and “ouches”, but unlike his prior punishments, he did not beg her to stop. He was completely accepting of the fact that he had let his wife down and absolutely deserved exactly what he was getting. While in the past he had always tried to keep from crying since he felt embarrassed by his tears, this time he felt relief when he quickly started to cry.
Ginny recognized that Paul’s reaction to this spanking was different from his earlier punishments, and so was hers. In the past, she had always felt a bit of guilt when she spanked him -- she did believe it was the right thing for her to do, but she also loved him and regretted that she needed to resort to treating him this way to bring about better behavior. However this time he had virtually asked for a spanking, and that made her feel much better. He had obviously accepted the fact that he would be spanked when he failed to do what she wanted, and she would happily provide that spanking.
There was also another factor that made this spanking different. Many people, both men and women, sometimes fantasize during lovemaking that they are doing so with someone else, often a movie star or athlete, sometimes a friend of the opposite sex. For a few seconds, Ginny actually fantasized about who she was spanking. It was not Paul’s red backside she was landing brush strokes on – it was the backside of the media buyer who had given her so much trouble in Chicago! She applied the brush with extra vigor for a few spanks, and Paul recognized the difference.
Ginny quickly regained her perception of what was really happening. Her husband’s rear was as dark red as she had ever made it, and he was crying loudly. In the past, she had systematically ended his spankings, slowing down the pace and delivering about ten especially hard spanks. But tonight she stopped immediately, much to Paul’s surprise.
She sent him to the corner as she usually did, and sat on the bed staring at him. She rose and undressed, then went into the bathroom leaving him standing in the corner, knowing he would not dare to move. She emerged from the bathroom and put on pajamas, then sat on the bed staring at her naked husband’s red rear. He was far from perfect, but he was hers, and she knew he was at least trying to make her happy.
She rose and took off her nightclothes. She walked over to the corner and turned him around, then kissed him and led him back to the bed.