“Another awful day,” Kevin Greene said to himself as he entered his car to drive home.
At just 27 years old, Kevin was the youngest store manager in a chain of general merchandise superstores, and there were many days he himself wondered if he had advanced too far too soon. He had been a business major at the University of Michigan and could easily have started a career in Detroit or Chicago, but he and his then-girlfriend, now-wife Karen, both wanted to live in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula where they had grown up. There weren’t a lot of white-collar jobs available in the U.P., so Kevin took a management trainee position at the store, while Karen was able to find a job as a teacher in the public school system.
Kevin rapidly advanced through the store’s management ranks as other managers happily accepted transfers to other areas, and when the store’s General Manager decided to retire a year earlier, he was offered the job. Other department managers had much more seniority than he did, but none of them were college graduates and Kevin was leapfrogged over the others. Obviously, there was a great deal of resentment underlying his management of the store.
Among today’s stressful activities, he had to fire a high school boy who had been late for work three days in a row. Kevin knew his mother was friendly with the boy’s parents, and he knew he’d soon be getting a call from his mother about it. But that was just one of dozens – perhaps hundreds if he really thought about it – of decisions he needed to make every single day. He was tired of making decisions. Karen understood the stress her husband was under. She wanted to do anything and everything she could to help him relax, and always catered to him as best she could. Dinner was always whatever he wanted, she was always willing to watch whatever TV shows he wanted to watch and on the weekends when he did not have to be at the store, she would do whatever he wanted to do. It was always his decision. Last night when she had asked him about tonight’s dinner, he had chosen lasagna, and she dutifully had it ready for him.
After dinner, they moved to the family room and she asked what he’d like tomorrow. “I’d like you to decide,” he said. “Honey, I just want to make you happy,” she said. “I know how work is stressing you out and I’ll do absolutely anything I can to make things better for you. Please, just tell me what you want. I’m willing to do more to help you.” “Karen, what will make me happier is for you to do less for me, not more.” “I’m confused,” she said. “I’m tired of making decisions,” he said. Every day I make hundreds of decisions – who to hire, who to fire, merchandise for the end-aisle display, inventory control, scheduling hours. I’m just decided-out when I get home.
I know you mean well, but when I get here you ask me what I want for dinner, what I want to do this weekend, what movie I want to see. What I really want is to come home and take my brain out of gear. You tell me what’s for dinner. You tell me what we’re doing this weekend. Don’t let me vegetate in front of the TV watching shows I really don’t care about. Don’t ask me to help around the house – make a list and tell me what I must do, and make damn well sure I do it. Please, honey, please take control of the house and you be the boss here.” “I’m surprised, but if you think that will make you happier, I can do it,” she answered. “Yes, I can be the boss. I’ll just think of you as one of my third-graders,” she said smiling. “Good,” Kevin replied. “I think I’d really like that. I want you to really take control, really be tough on me. I’d actually like to be a little afraid of you, in a good sort of way. Like your kids in school. Or like a kid with his mother: when he has a problem or something hurts, he goes running to his mother to make things better. But he knows that if he screws up or breaks one of her rules, he’s going to end up crying in the corner with a very red butt.”
Karen smiled, almost laughed. “Oh, so you want me to spank you too, eh?” His answer shocked her. “Well, no, not really. But I do think if you’re really in charge, you should have the right to punish me if I don’t do what you tell me to do, or if I break one of the rules you set. I don’t particularly want you to spank me, but if you’re going to be the boss of the house, that should be an option you should have.” She wasn’t smiling anymore. “Let me think all this over,” she said. “Let’s discuss it again tomorrow.” The next night they moved into the family room right after dinner (one she had decided on without asking him what he wanted). No TV, they sat on different sofas facing each other. “I thought about what you said last night,” Karen started. “I’m willing to do it, but I think we need a contract.”
“A contract? Like in that 50 Shades movie?” “Not quite that formal, but yes, I want to put everything down in writing so we can stick to an agreement and not ruin our marriage because of misunderstandings. I think we should each spend a couple of days thinking about this and then talk about everything and put it on paper. I also think you should have an ‘out’. We should try this for a while, but after a set period of time, you need to be able to end the arrangement, or at least we should have a time when we can re-negotiate the whole thing.” The next two evenings were spent negotiating the terms of the contract.
The couple had fun doing it – they smiled and laughed as they discussed the terms, but there was also real give-and-take. Kevin was surprised (and proud) that his wife was a strong negotiator, and when she gave in to one of his demands, she made sure to get a matching concession from him. And it was pleasing to both of them that Kevin was much more relaxed than a typical night after work. When discussing the section concerning punishments, Kevin had no objections when spanking was listed as one of the possibilities – of course, he had been the one to suggest it in the first place. He was much more concerned about his Saturday morning golf game (he played almost every week with three buddies he had grown up with). Karen stood firm on that point saying she needed a possible punishment that would be meaningful to him to keep him in line. He reluctantly agreed when she agreed to insert a clause limiting the number of times each month he had to accompany her to dinner at her mother’s house. He also demanded the contract would forbid disclosure of their arrangement to anyone else.
Karen felt that way anyway, but in return for her formal agreement, she held out for his consent to a clause where she could revoke his TV-watching privileges. He was willing to forego primetime TV watching, but wanted weekend sports to be exempted – but she refused to agree to a sports exemption, and she won on that point. The discussions about an opt-out period ended up being that the contract would be firm for six months. At that point, either had the right to end the agreement in total or re-negotiate for another six month period. At the end of the second six months, either could end the deal in total – but if neither did, it would become a permanent fixture for the rest of their marriage.
“Tomorrow’s Friday and it’s July 1st,” she said. “I’ll type all this up and let’s sign it tomorrow night. That way it will be very easy to remember when the opt-out day is, it will be New Year’s Day.” The next night she had three copies of the contract for them both to sign. One copy was for him, one for her, and the last went into a tin box where they kept valuables such as car titles and passports. She had signed all three copies, and as soon as he signed the last, she put a copy into the tin box, stood up smiling, and pointed to the bedroom. “Bedroom,” she said to her husband. Kevin hadn’t thought of all this as particularly erotic, but he reasoned if she did think that way, it sounded good to him. He walked into the room, turned to embrace her as she walked in, but was surprised when she walked right past him and went to her dresser instead. She opened the drawer and pulled out a large wooden hairbrush he had never seen before. “Where did you get that?” he asked. “I wanted to get it at your store, but I didn’t,” she answered. “I would have loved to use your employee discount so I could say I spanked you at 20% off retail prices, but most of your cashiers know me, so I bought it at a different store.
Sorry, dear, I’m afraid you’re going to get spanked at full retail.” “But I haven’t done anything to be spanked for.” Karen smiled. She opened her copy of the contract and read: “‘ Wife shall have the authority to punish husband in any manner she feels appropriate for any poor behavior during the entirety of the marriage.’ You signed it, young man,” she said, “and the entirety of the marriage takes in a whole lot of things. Would you prefer one good spanking today, or would you like me to remember one bad thing you’ve done once a day for the next few weeks?” His admiration for his wife had grown to new heights – she had him, he thought. “No, let’s get it all behind us tonight,” he said, unaware of the unintentional joke he had just made. “Good boy,” she said with a devilish eye.
“Be happy – you wanted to be a little scared of me, now you’re going to see exactly what you’re going to be afraid of.” She ordered him to remove everything he was wearing and as he undressed he could see she was enjoying the scenario she had created. He wasn’t scared of his upcoming spanking but as he undressed his eyes were mostly fixed on the brush that looked to be very unfriendly. He imagined it would sting quite a bit. In the past two days, once she realized she was going to be in a position where she would be spanking her husband, Karen had spent a lot of time on the internet, looking at sites featuring women spanking men. She realized most of them were fantasies but found some that seemed credible, and developed her thoughts about how to spank Kevin, so she was ready to do so, and armed with a weapon she felt would deliver a memorable experience. She wasn’t at all angry at him, but as long as he had said he wanted to be a little afraid of her, she was determined to make that happen.
Once he was naked, she told him to get one of their dining room chairs and bring it into the bedroom. The chairs were all wood (thin cushions were tied on to the seats) with a straight back and no arms – perfect spanking chairs! He complied and she had him place it where there was room for him to stretch out fully over her lap. Once he moved into position, she moved her right leg over the back of his legs to lock him in, demanded he move his right arm to the small of his back, then grabbed that arm with her left hand. She knew she now had him in a position he couldn’t escape from if he tried. Enjoying herself thoroughly, she taunted him while rubbing the back of the brush lightly over his buttocks. Then she turned the brush and lightly ran the bristles against him, which made him shudder. He felt her lift the brush as she said, “Oh, you’ve been such a bad boy since we’ve been married. I’m going to make your butt so, so red – and I’ve got six months to do this every day if you don’t do what I say.” Splat!
The first spank landed but did not feel too bad at first to the spankee. Then the second, then the third, and then more and more started to land on both cheeks, and the pain started to build. In what seemed like just a few seconds, Kevin was already at a point where he felt he’d had enough. He started to squirm to avoid the upcoming spanks, but he felt her tighten both her legs and her control of his right arm – he knew he was unable to avoid whatever amount of spanks she wanted to deliver and a feeling of helplessness hit him. Yes, he did want her in control, he thought, but this was a lot more painful than he imagined, and he really wanted it to end immediately. He started to try to beg her to stop and was surprised to hear how weak his voice sounded, very much like a little boy.
He was out of breath and panting, and just saying tiny statements like “Please, honey” or “No more.” He found that even saying “It hurts” was an effort. His wife replied with taunts, calling him a bad boy and saying his butt wasn’t red enough yet to suit her. Just before she finished she added, “I’m so glad I went to the other store to get this brush. I’ll bet you don’t have one in your store that gives as good spanking as this brush.” “I’m sure we don’t,” he managed to say. “Please stop.” And she stopped.
The spanking was over, but not the punishment. She ordered him to the corner and warned him that any rubbing would result in more spanks. With his nose buried into the corner, he wasn’t sure if she was still in the room or not after a few minutes. He tentatively moved his right hand back towards his right butt cheek and was immediately rewarded with several more quick, hard spanks from the brush. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he squeaked out and then placed his hands under the opposite armpits to keep from rubbing again. After ten minutes of agony standing in the corner, she said to him, “I’m going to be nice to my little boy. I’m sure it’s hard to stand there like that. So you can sit down.” She had removed the cushion from the ‘spanking chair’ and moved it right behind him, gently pushing him down onto it. His naked red butt landed on the cool wooden seat and produced a new wave of pain that seemed to be the worst of the night. “A little afraid of me now are you?” Karen asked. “Definitely,” was the answer.
After fifteen minutes sitting in the corner, he felt his wife help him rise up from the chair. He turned and saw she was smiling and as naked as he was. She led him to their bed. —oOo— Summers are short in the northern climes of the U.P., and it seemed autumn came almost overnight. But the summer had been good for the couple; the arrangement was working well. Kevin got what he wanted with a wife in control, and Karen was pleased with all the progress he made on outdoor home repairs and working in their yard – not to mention dragging him to some chick flicks that he never would have agreed to before. He also had been ordered to take over some of the household chores that had been exclusively hers before. No punishments were necessary although she had made some references to the golf game a few times when he started to slip back towards some depression about his job. All was well as the calendar turned to November and snow started to fall frequently, ending golf for the season. Of course, that was the beginning of the busiest season of the year for retailers, and pressures, and consequently, time spent at the store grew exponentially.
Kevin was becoming nervous and stressed again, and Karen felt she needed to be tougher on him, not easier, to get him through it. Although the contract had provisions for him spending all necessary time at work, she increased her list of things he needed to accomplish at home, even moving more of her normal tasks to him. He asked her why she was doing that. “Because I can,” was the answer. He started to fall behind in his responsibilities. With golf no longer a possibility, she threatened to revoke his television privileges. The contract allowed him to work as late as necessary, but required him to call her to let her know. When he forgot to do that one evening (leading to a ruined dinner she had prepared), she told him he could not watch any TV for a week. There was a problem. To a graduate of the University of Michigan, nothing is more important than the Michigan/Ohio State football game – and this was the week of the game. Kevin pleaded for an exemption for just those hours. Karen was very tempted to grant it to him, but after thinking about it she felt the integrity of the contract was at stake so she denied his request.