Bad Habits F/M

[graves95]

Bad Habits

By Jonathan Quincy Graves

As I entered the house after a typical, long day on the job, I was greeted with the sounds: WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! “No! Mom! I’m sorry!” WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

“Have you learned your lesson yet? Are we going to have to have this discussion again?” WHAP!!

“No, no, please mom, I’ll never do it again. I promise.”

As I walked into the kitchen, where all the action was taking place, my wife Lorie was assisting our eleven year-old son Mark up off of her lap.

“Pull your pants up and get to your room. I’ll be in in a few minutes to check on you, and I expect to find you hard at work on that homework. Understand?” she scolded, her trusty hairbrush still held tightly in her fist.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mark said with a sniff and wiped his runny nose on his sleeve. This is a habit that drives Lorie to distraction, but she just looked at me, shook her head and let it pass.

“Alright, git,” she commanded, pointing her hard maple weapon, and Mark finished pulling up his pants and scooted from the kitchen and up the stairs to his room.

“So how high did the count get to this time?” I asked.

Lorie has a set pattern that she follows when punishing Mark. Once his pants are down around his ankles, he is required to put himself across his mother’s knee. She has no interest in wrestling with him at that point. If he does not do so immediately, she will start to slowly count. If the count gets to five, and he still is not in position, she will double the number with the hairbrush. When she spanks, she usually starts with her hand, but finishes with the brush giving one stroke for each year of his age, so non-cooperation means that the hairbrush strokes automatically go from eleven to twenty-two. Needless to say, after the first time that happened, I don’t think that Mark has ever let the count get to five again.

“Three,” Lorie answered. “That’s usually where it stops these days. At his age, and being male, he likes to push me, but he is smart enough not to push me too far.”

“I’ll bet,” I responded with a chuckle, “I don’t blame him one bit. What set this particular session off?”

“I got a call from Mrs. Stevens, his math teacher. Seems that he has not been turning in his homework, and when she finally sent a note home to me about it, he forged my signature and took it back to her the next day. He’s a pretty smart kid, but a complete bust as a forger. Mrs. Stevens saw through it immediately and gave me a call. I don’t think that we will see that little trick played again.”

“I’ll bet not” I laughed. “You seem to get pretty good results with that hairbrush. Mark gets into a lot less trouble than I did when I was his age. Of course my mother believed in time-outs for discipline and punishment. Not nearly the disincentive that a little hard maple applied repeatedly to a deserving bare bottom would have been.”

“Your mother didn’t spank you?” Lorie asked, an appraising look in her eye. She was still sitting in the kitchen chair turned out into the room, still holding her heavy wooden hairbrush, her legs in tight, blue jeans crossed, one foot swinging slightly. “That explains a few things.”

“Yeah, I suppose. Sometimes I kind of wish that she had been more like you when I was growing up. It likely would have saved me a lot of trouble in later years.”

“No doubt.”

A fairly long silence followed this exchange, with Lorie just looking at me, seemingly waiting for me to say something more, and me just standing there, feeling awkward, and casting about in my mind for a suitable exit line so that I could go change out of my work clothes and sit down with the news on cable until dinner was ready.

“I’ve been thinking about our argument last night,” I finally volunteered, the silence getting to me. “You were right, of course. Sorry I made such a big deal about it. Sometimes I just get too wound up in the argument and stop thinking about the facts involved. Bad habit. Sorry.” ‘There, that should do it’ I thought. ‘Think I’ll have a large martini before dinner.’ I was suddenly feeling rather proud of myself for the way that I had admitted my guilt and taken all of the blame.

As I started to turn away, Lorie said, “Seems to me that your bad habit has been getting worse lately, John.”

I stopped and turned back. “What?” I asked, actually thinking more about the coming martini than what my wife had just said to me, but not wanting to be so rude as to just ignore her and continue out of the room and down the hall to change.

“Your habit of arguing with me, even over little things, seems to have gotten worse lately. At least you’re doing it a lot more often than you used to?”

“Really? Yeah, you may be right. Guess I’ll have to work on that.” I’d been on my feet most of the day, and standing there in the kitchen having this unwanted conversation was getting to be a little uncomfortable. That future martini was gradually evolving in my plans from a double to a triple … with three olives. ‘Is she done talking? Will I piss her off if I leave now?’ I was wondering, but paused just a bit too long before making my break.

“I could help you, you know. It’s never too late to learn a little discipline,” Lorie interrupted my ruminations, slapping her hairbrush lightly into her other hand.

“What?” I said, feeling stupid as soon as the reflexive question was out of my mouth. I knew immediately what she meant. I mean with that hairbrush and her serious expression and all, there was not a doubt in my mind what she meant. On the other hand, I had never been spanked before in my life, and Lorie had never before indicated the slightest interest in taking on the job. Do husbands and wives actually do that sort of thing? If they do, I’ve sure never heard of it. Of course I wouldn’t be likely to, would I. I mean, it is not the sort of thing that one of the guys would bring up in the locker room--“Boy, my wife sure spanked my ass good last night; near brought me to tears”--never happen.

“I mean, don’t you think that we are both a little too old for that sort of thing? Uh, well, not you, of course, but me,” I quickly back tracked. “Don’t you think I’m a little too old to be spanked?”

Lorie just continued to look at me for a long moment, then said, “What do you think? Are you happy living in a home with constant bickering? Do you think that this environment is good for Mark or for me? You said yourself that it was a bad habit; don’t you think that we should do something about it? You agreed that my methods are working well with Mark, or is it that you are just afraid to face the consequences for bad behavior.”

“No, I’m not afraid,” I answered defensively. “It just kind of seems a little silly. It’s been a lot of years since I was eleven.”

“True, but unfortunately your mother wasted those years, leaving us with having to deal with your bad habits now. Perhaps if she had used more effective techniques, it would not still be an issue. So what do you say, sport? Shall we give it a shot? If it works, things will go a whole lot smoother around here for the whole family.”

“I-I guess,” I stuttered, not at all sure to what I was actually agreeing. One thing that I did know, was that I did not want this to turn into another one of our arguments. I really was a little sorry for the previous night’s bad temper, and besides it seemed to me that Lorie was really being entirely reasonable. And, if I’m going to start a fight, I always like to have at least some small sense that I had the right of it, even if I didn’t.

“Good,” Lorie said decisively as she rose from her chair. “I’ll go check on Mark. He usually has his headset on listening to his music when he does his homework, so if we take this discussion to the basement rec room, there is no chance that he will hear any of it. You go ahead and get ready, I’ll meet you there.”

She strode out of the kitchen so quickly and with such purpose, that I didn’t have a chance to begin an objection, even if I could have thought of one. I stood there for a moment, trying to figure out what just happened, and failed completely. Ultimately, I headed for the stairs down to the basement. ‘What did she mean by “get ready”,’ I wondered. ‘Ready for a spanking? From what I know of the subject, she is the one who will be doing all the work.’

When I got down to the rec room, I was at a complete loss as to what to do next. This idea was seeming less and less good to me all the time. ‘Spankings hurt,’ I thought. ‘At least they hurt eleven year-olds. Of course many of the things that cause pain in kids are no big deal for adults, especially men. On the other hand, the whole idea of a spanking--going pants down over someone’s knee--was pretty humiliating. If we did this, would Lorie tell anybody? I don’t think so, but on the other hand, she doesn’t keep much from her mother. No, she wouldn’t, would she?’

“John, why are you just standing there?” Lorie asked, startling me out of my musings. I had not heard her come down the stairs. “Pull that chair out of the corner and put it here in the middle of the room, then drop your pants. Let’s get this over with so that I can get back to fixing dinner.”

I went to get the chair, but as I was carrying it back to where Lorie had indicated, I said, “Maybe this is not such a good idea.”

“Nonsense,” Lorie said, “don’t chicken out now. You already agreed that a good spanking was necessary to help you with your bad habits.”

‘Did I?’ I wondered. ‘Well maybe I did, kind of, but… Aw shit. Might as well get it over with.’

I put down the chair, and Lorie sat down and looked at me.

“Now what?” I asked.

“Drop your pants, of course.”

Reluctantly, I undid my belt, unsnapped and unzipped my pants and let them fall to the floor around my ankles.

“Those too,” Lorie said, indicating my boxers.

‘Too late to back out now,’ I thought, and pulled my boxers down to my knees feeling the humiliation that I had hypothesized just minutes before. It wasn’t that I was embarrassed to be naked in front of Lorie, not at all, but under these circumstances, with her still fully clothed and waiting for me to lay myself over her lap, my naked butt pointing up in the air, now that was embarrassing.

Wanting to get it over with, I did not delay, but placed myself quickly over my wife’s waiting thighs.

Lorie patted my cheeks a few times, then directed, “Scoot a little further forward, dear,” as she put her hand between my legs and helped me to adjust my position until my head was closer to the floor and my feet barely touched on the other side.

“That’s better,” she said. “Now since this is your first ever spanking, here are the rules.”

‘Rules now,’ I thought, ‘can’t we just get on with it?’

“Kicking your feet and a little squirming is okay, it’s hard to keep completely still when you are being spanked, but don’t get carried away. If you try to get off of my lap, or just squirm so violently that you fall off, we’ll start the whole thing over from the beginning. Trust me, you do not want that to happen. Also, you can cry if you want, and even ask for mercy if the mood strikes you, just don’t expect me to pay any attention. We’ll be done when I’m done. And try to not make too much noise. I doubt that Mark could hear an atomic blast when he’s got his music coming through those headphones, but on the other hand, we would not like him or the neighbors either, for that matter, to know that you are being spanked, would we.”

‘Damned straight on that one,’ I thought. ‘That would take humiliation to a whole new level.’

“So here we go,” she finished. “I’ll warm you up a bit with my hand, before we begin your real spanking.”

Without further delay, I heard a sharp SMACK and a noticeable tingle to my backside. The sound surprised me more than the sting, and I was suddenly worried that our son would hear what was going on after all, but on reflection, Lorie was right about that. There was no chance.

After four such smacks, but little real pain, Lorie paused to say, “Try to think about what you do that has put you into this position, dear. Let’s make this as much of a learning experience as we can so that we do not have to do it too often.” Then she resumed her efforts, a little harder now.

‘Too often? Fat chance of that. This is a onetime deal, for sure.’

I didn’t keep track of how long Lorie spanked me or count the spanks, but it seemed like quite a long time and I was starting to get distinctly uncomfortable back there before she stopped. Not that I couldn’t put up with the rising sting; I am an adult male, after all.

“That should do it,” Lorie announced, stopping the hand spanking. “You’ve got a nice rosy glow going now, so I think that we can move on to the hairbrush. Remember the rules now, John, thirty-three with this hairbrush is no laughing matter. Do your best to take it like a man.”

‘Thirty-three? Oh, yeah, my age. “Take it like a man?” that’s what I’ve been doing. Mark would have been kicking and crying long since if he was getting this spanking. Do your worst, woman. I can take it.’

WHAP!!

“Ouch! Shit! Take it easy with that damned thing. That really stings!”

“Tone it down, dear, and watch your language. You’ll distract me and make me loose count.”

WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! Those were even harder than the first one, it that’s possible. I ground my teeth together, determined to not cry out again--wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. But she had to be causing significant damage, and at about fifteen or twenty really hard spanks, a slight whine escaped my clamped lips. ‘Jeez, did Lorie change places with a lumberjack when I wasn’t watching? I had no idea that she could spank this hard.’

“I think that I’ve had enough,” I managed to get out several spanks later in a strained but almost normal voice. “You’ve gotten your point across. You can stop now. You can stop now, honey. Stop, Lorie. Lorie, please stop.” I suspect that my voice was a lot less normal sounding toward the end there.

Despite my quite reasonable requests, Lorie just kept paddling me with her brush. I hadn’t noticed, but my legs were now doing some kind of frog dance, my right hand had long since been captured in the course of its attempt to shield my burning bottom, and Lorie had not missed a beat. Hard, hard spanks just continued to rain down on my defenseless ass, stoking that fire until I was almost sure that the smoke alarms were about to go off all over the house.

I was becoming more than a little frantic. That brush really hurt, and Lorie was a real pro at putting it right where it would do the most good, from the tops of my cheeks all the way down to the crease where my bottom met my thighs. I was in significant distress, and no longer taking it well when finally, after minutes that seemed like hours, Lorie stopped. She put down the brush and began to just softly stroke the injured area.

“That’s thirty-three, dear,” she said once I had quieted down a little. “Well, thirty-four if you count the first one, which didn’t count because of your bad language. What do you think? Do you think that you’d have the bad habits that you have today if your mother had spanked you when you were eleven?”

“Hell no,” I blurted, and Lorie smacked me with her hand. “Sorry. No. Absolutely not. Just one spanking like that when I was young would have cured me for life.”

“Good. Let’s hope that it works now, even at your age. You can get up now. We’re through for this time, at least.”

I decided that it might be best to ignore the “this time” comment for now, at least until I had pulled my pants back up, and I managed to climb off of Lorie’s lap.

“That was some experience,” I commented, gently rubbing my backside. “I never want to go through that again. I admit, however, that I’m looking forward to a time in the near future when I can put you into that position.”

Lorie gave me a hard look and said, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” I said, ignoring all of the obvious signs that I should just shut up and get the crap out of there, “that I can hardly wait until our roles are reversed and I’m the one wielding that hairbrush from hell with your delightful, pink bottom as the target.”

“Get back over my lap, John.”

“What? What for?”

“Someone hasn’t yet learned just who wields the hairbrush in this family, but he is about to. Now get back over my lap.”

“But you can’t.”

“One.”

“I didn’t mean…”

“Two.”

“Please Lorie, honey…”

“Three.”

[larose]

Very cute story, I enjoyed the dynamic a great deal between this couple.

[jj7]

Gosh I love your stories Laura. Counting for him. ugh!! She truly is the spanker in that family! Wish I was closer. john wisconsin

[luisboyswitch]

Beautiful . Perhaps I Should be sent to the teacher to spanked

[jeff_uk]

Great story and well scripted but the key question is will the count reach five? Also since the hairbrush only visits one cheek at a time, is 33 the total number of spanks or the spanks per bottom cheek? The latter is preferable IMO.

[justpecause]

Excellent story and it turned me on. Thank you.

[markiee]

My wife tans me naked whenever she thinks I need it even though I'm 61.

[Switchbott]

Great story, spouses spanking each other are the best!

[Otkmike777]

I've read that story a few times over the years.A really exciting story for me. I wish I had a wife like that!