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The next few days after my first ever punishment spanking, I felt like I was walking on clouds. It's hard to describe the feeling but blissful probably comes closest. That evening in the shower, the hot water rekindled some of the burn and it was a good reminder. The bathroom mirror showed some redness still left, a visual reminder that I had been punished. Next day after school, I met her at the agreed time which seemed to please her a great deal. We were both happy that the punishment had had the desired effect. As we rode our bicycles to her house, she asked me if I was still okay with the arrangement. I said that I was, and mentioned how it made me feel. She seemed relieved and told me that she was worried she might have been too harsh. I told her that it was painful but not too harsh. After arriving and checking her brother was nowhere around, we continued the conversation in the kitchen. "What about you?" I asked. "Are you still comfortabel with this?" Even before speaking, her smile answered my question. "Yes, I'm completely okay with spanking you," she replied. "So what do you like about it?" She thought for a couple of seconds and then her eyes looked directly into mine. "I like spanking your butt. You have a cute butt. But I like that I get to keep you in line more, I think." Her answer made me happy but it also made me blush! A few days after that, we had agreed to meet at her house again. Her classes had ended an hour before mine but I made sure to get to her home as quickly as I could. She opened the door and let me in with a pleased expression on her face. She handed me something to drink and couldn't wait for me to finish it. I barely had a chance to put the glass down on the sink when she asked me to come up to her room. For a moment I thought she was going to spank me but I hadn't broken any of the rules, had I? It turned out that I hadn't. Instead, she had looked all over the house for implements to spank with. "My hand hurt last time so I decided to look for some things to help with that. What do you think?" On her bed I saw a wooden ruler, a wooden spoon, a bath brush and a carpet beater. "Wow, those look serious!" "Do you think these would work?" I told her that I wasn't sure about the ruler because it looked a bit flimsy but the others looked like they would work very well. Maybe too well. She suggested that we try them out to find which were suitable. I automatically assumed that I would be the guinea pig but instead she offered herself. "I need to be sure they work, so I think we should test them on me," she said. For obvious reasons, I assumed that I would be the guinea pig for this experiment but to my surprise, she wanted to test them on her own bottom. She wanted to know what the implements felt like before using them, which I appreciated. She also agreed to have them tested on her bare bottom because they would be used on my bare bottom. She quickly lowered her jeans and motioned me to sit down on the bed. She quickly went over my lap, her bare bottom ready and waiting for the implements. "Do you want a bit with the hand first, to start?" I asked. "Sure, why not. If you want to do that, that's fine," she replied. I placed my right hand on her buttocks with enthusiasm. I felt the smooth roundness under my hand and it was definitely a pleasant sensation! However, we were to test implements, not fondle butt cheeks. I gave her a few mild spanks which caused her to wiggle her bum a bit. I saw some pinkness forming where the slaps landed, which was definitely a pleasant sight. Much too early for my liking, she said she wanted to move on to the implements. We agreed to start with the ruler because it looked the least intimidating. I picked it up and felt there was barely any weight to it at all. "You're not even going to feel this," I offered my opinion. "Let's just give it a try," she insisted. I obliged and proceeded to spank her a few times with the ruler. The flimsy wood object bounced off of her muscular cheeks and didn't seem to do much at all. I proceeded to hit harder which made a great sound as it impacted on her bare flesh but she just giggled. "This doesn't do anything at all!" she laughed. I agreed, there was barely any redness forming, even on the spots where I hit her harder. It was probably good enough as a ruler but as a spanking implement, it was practically useless. It looked like it would break well before it made any kind of impact. Next, we moved to the wooden spoon. This was a rather big, flat spoon with a sturdy round handle and felt a lot heavier in my hand. This looked like a much more serious option for spanking! I gave her a few light taps with it to warn her that I would be starting. I gave her a mild spanks with it and this one definitely produced a result. She squirmed and I heard some pleasing "ow" noises. "That one stings!" she said. I gave her a few more, a little bit harder now and her hand flew back to protect her bottom. "Ow! This one definitely works. We're keeping it," she decided. So far I had been using the round side of the spoon and now I suggested we try the hollow side too, to see if it produced different results. She reluctantly agreed to take a few more spanks with the spoon. I gave her a few solid smacks and we were both surprised at the sound. The hollow side of the spoon made a lot more noise! Her impression was that this side didn't sting as bad as the round side but it worked well too. Next up was the bath brush. It had a long handle, a big, round and flat back and it felt very heavy in my hand. I warned her that this one might be very painful. She was cautious to try it but we agreed that I would give her 6 good spanks with it. I raised my arm and due to the long handle, the business end of the brush was now well above my head, meaning it had a lot of distance to pick up momentum! The first smack landed with a crack and caused a good yelp to escape her mouth. She started to say something but I had already raised the brush for the second smack which interrupted her mid-sentence, causing it to end in a loud "ow". I raised the brush again and I heard her muttering something like "no no no" but it was too late. The head of the brush descended and impacted on her butt cheeks for the third time. They were beginning to show considerable redness now. After the smack, she quickly got off my lap, holding her bottom with both hands. "It hurts! It really hurts!" she complained. "Sure. But we said six. That was only three," I said. With a frown, she got back over my lap. "Okay, three more. But not too hard!" she insisted. I agreed and proceeded to deliver the last three spanks with the bath brush, which she did not enjoy at all! She didn't mind the occasional mild, erotic spanking but this was real pain. As soon as the last smack landed, she got up and vigorously rubbed her bottom with both hands, trying to ease the discomfort. There were some angry red blotches forming and I felt somewhat pleased about that, as I remember. She looked as if she had gotten a real spanking. "One more to go," I said, pointing at the carpet beater which so far had been laying unused on the bed. She was very reluctant now obviously not happy with her decision to be the guinea pig but she was also not someone to give up that easily. "It's too long to use with you over my knee. I think it's better if you bend over," I suggested. This made her blush, clearly she was a little uncomfortable with the position but it did make the most sense. I had the distinct pleasure of seeing her bend over for me, putting her firm, round buttocks on display. I picked up the carpet beater which didn't feel very heavy in my hand but of course the wicker or rattan that was used to make them, had some flexibility to it. That would no doubt increase the swing and impact. "So...how many should we do?" I asked her. She looked back at me over her shoulder. She offered to take one stroke but I told her that was not enough and bid six instead. Six was clearly unacceptable to her though and she offered three instead but since that wasn't a nice, round number, we finally settled on four. A decision that she would come to regret. I took a step back and made sure I wouldn't knock anything down with the carpet beater. I then held it briefly against her exposed buttocks and let it swing. It whistled through the air with a rather pleasing sound but the impact sound was pretty underwhelming. Since the carpet beater had a large business end for beating the dust out of rugs, it covered nearly her entire bottom in one stroke. It also hit the upper part of the back of her thighs. She bent her knees and hopped up and down in a very amusing and exciting way. When she had calmed down a bit, I gave the second stroke which caused her to sink through her knees and left her squatting next to the bed, holding her bottom. It was obvious that it was becoming too much for her and we agreed to stop the experiment. With the exception of the ruler, all three implements were effective for delivering a good spanking. As I was about to find out because as soon as she had regained her composure, she insisted we try them on me next to see if they were just as effective! Since the ruler had already been disqualified, we would start with the wooden spoon but not before a little hand spanking first. So now it was my turn to drop my pants and underpants and go over her knee. She started to give me a relatively mild spanking with her hand. It was somewhat painful but nowhere near the level of her serious spankings. Still, it did produce a good amount of sting after a little while. With my cheeks already somewhat red and glowing, it was time to begin with the wooden spoon. Having already seen her reactions to it, I expected it to sting quite a bit and I was not wrong! Because of the relatively small surface of the curved side of the spoon, the impact was focused in a small area. She enjoyed using the spoon because it took very little effort to target accurately and enabled her to hit my sit spots with precision! Obviously, I was a lot less appreciative because it hurt! My already warm bottom quickly turned hot. The flip side of the spoon, the hollow side, was slightly less painful but the sounds of the impact were very loud. It sounded like someone was getting a very serious spanking in here. We hadn't set a maximum number but she must have given me a good 30 or 40 spanks with the wooden spoon because I remember my bottom having spoon marks all over. I was already pretty sore because I had gotten a longer spanking with the hand as well so I suggested a maximum of 10 spanks with the bath brush, which was up next. She agreed but with the caveat that they had to be good spanks. I braced myself for the impact... *CRACK* The first stroke with the bath brush sounded like a pistol shot to me and I yowled with pain! The bath brush hurt like nothing I had ever felt before. I was still gasping in shock from the first stroke when the second one landed on my other cheek. It sounded and hurt similar and I gritted my teeth to bear it. The third one had me yowling again and by the fourth I was really feeling it and asking her to stop. She allowed me to catch my breath for a few seconds and then the fifth stroke landed hard! My hand flew back to cover my bottom! This did not make her happy. "Do you want to try twenty with the brush instead of ten?" she asked in a strict tone of voice. "No! But it hurts so much!" I opined. "Yes, I know. We are trying to see if they work for your punishment, remember? So far, I think they work pretty well. Now stop interfering so we can finish the test." She didn't wait for an answer because the following strokes landed in rapid succession, alternating cheeks with me squirming and yowling. This was completely different from a hand spanking. A hand spanking hurt, obviously. But the bath brush produced a much deeper, searing kind of pain that lingered even after the spanks ended. I was glad the test with the brush was over as I got up to rub my bottom. But of course the test itself was not over yet. The carpet beater was next and it was agreed that I would get 10 with it also. It was my turn to bend over and I felt the same embarrassment she did assuming that position. It was much less intimate than going over the knee and it really meant offering up your bottom to be spanked. It felt somehow much more vulnerable. My thoughts on the position has to be put aside for a bit though. I felt the business end of the carpet beater against my already sore bottom as she lined up for the first stroke. As I mentioned in previous posts here, my friend was a good tennis player, playing in the top of her club and had a powerful swing. I mention this here because she did as well, saying it was a good opportunity to practice her backhand! Worried, I steadied myself for the first smack and sure enough: there was the whistling and that awful sound of dry wicker impacting on bare cheeks. Only this time, the cheeks were mine! The first stroke was painful but not as bad as the bath brush. However, subsequent strokes landed on top of the first one and since the carpet beater also covered almost my entire bottom with one stroke, after 3 or 4 strokes, there was not a single area that was not hit at least once! The worst part was that it also hit the top of my thighs with the rim which caused painful welts to form there, right on the sit spots! I hopped and twisted my hips just like she did in an effort to get rid of the burn. I don't remember much of the final strokes with the carpet beater. Suffice it to say that it was intense and painful and not something that I wanted to repeat any time soon! Finally the test was over and my bottom felt hot, very sore and swollen to twice its size. I suggested we compare the damage, which made her smile. Her room had a mirror above a small dresser and we went to stand side by side in front of it, our bottoms bared, to inspect the damage. I still recall the sight of our teenage bums next to each other in the mirror, both clearly spanked, though mine considerably redder and more damaged. Our bare bottom cheeks touched and I felt very close to her at that moment. I put my hand around her waist and she did the same with me. Our tests had shown that the wooden spoon, the bath brush and the carpet beater were all very suitable for giving a punishment spanking, with the latter two clearly more for harsher punishments. My bottom was evidently bruised! We agreed that she could pick from this implements if she felt that it was necessary to use them for my punishment. The thought alone made me nervous but that was not a bad thing. Our tests concluded, we proceeded to put the implements back where they belonged and then had a drink, sitting on the hard chairs at the kitchen table. We were still grinning about how bad it felt to sit with our tender bottoms on wooden chairs when her older brother came home and we had to start our homework. I wonder what he would have thought if he had knows that both his little sister and me were sitting there with difficulty, our bottoms sore from a spanking!

"How are you feeling?" asked John as he walked into the kitchen, seeing his wife Emma sat at the kitchen table, her back to him, eating breakfast. She was silhouetted in the sunlight from the window at the far end of the kitchen, and her dark brown waist-length hair spilled over the back of the chair. "Fine," Emma replied, not looking around. John walked over, pulled a chair around and sat down at Emma's side. He gently placed his band in the small of her back. "Hey, I know you're nervous. But I also know you'll be fine. You've had enough lessons and you aced the practice test. You're a good driver!" He rubbed her back as he talked. "I know, but what if I fail? I'm 25 - it'll be so embarrassing at my age. What if I make a mistake?" She turned to look at him and he could see the familiar look of mild panic. "I don't know if I should do it." "We've paid for the test, and you're ready, so you need to at least give it a go. We agreed that you would, remember? If you fail, who cares? Nobody needs to know. And it'll be experience for the next time. But you've go to at least try. You've got this. Have some faith in yourself - I do." He kissed her on the side of the head and stood up, picking his shoulder bag off the floor. "I'm really sorry that I can't take you, but I'll be thinking of you. Message when it's over, and I'll give you a call as soon as I'm out of the conference." "Ok, thanks," she forced a smile, and when he grinned at her it turned into a real smile. "Thank you." she said again. "I love you!" John said as he rushed out of the door. "Love you too!" she called, as the door slammed behind him. ***** As John left the conference centre, he dug his phone out of his trouser pocket and began to flick through his messages. He'd been sitting in non-stop meetings all day, and he felt stiff, aching, and claustrophobic. While he did enjoy his job, he'd never really felt like the corporate type and constantly acting the professional manager was exhausting. Still, the day was over, and he was heading home. And more importantly, he finally had time to phone his wife. He was surprised not to see a message from her - the test must have been over an hour ago. But maybe it was delayed. He tapped Emma's number, the same excitement rising in him as it always did about the prospect of hearing her voice. He put the phone to his ear as it began ringing. And ringing. And ringing. Eventually, "Hi, this is Emma. I can't get to the phone right now, so please leave me a message." <Beep> "Hi Ems, how did it go?! I really hope you aced it but if you didn't that's ok too. Call me back! I'm just heading home. Love you." John reached the car and opened the door. He jumped in, put his phone in the cradle, and started the car, pulling out of the car park onto the main road. Once he was driving, John pressed the button on the steering column and after the prompt, he asked the car to "phone Emma". He waited while it rang, and rang, but again it was just voicemail. He didn't leave a message this time. As he drove, he knew there were countless reasons why Emma might not have answered. Maybe there was a delay with the test, or maybe she was on the way home, or on the phone to someone else. But the fact she'd not messaged him was strange. He had a slight feeling of disquiet in his stomach. After half an hour or so of driving, he pulled up onto the driveway back at the house, jumped out of the car and went in through the front door. The door was unlocked and he could see Emma was home. "Emma?" Before she answered, he'd poked his head around the living room door and saw her curled up on the sofa wearing a hoodie, with an episode of Friends playing on the TV at the other side of the room. As he walked in, she looked around at him, and looked awkwardly back at the TV. He sat down beside her. "So? How did it go? Why didn't you message me?" "Um, sorry, I didn't know what to say. I failed". She hugged her knees in front of her and kept looking at the TV. "Oh Ems I'm sorry. It's ok, it happens. Don't worry about it. Tell me what happened..." "I don't know, I just failed. Nothing happened." She still didn't look around. John slid himself over on the sofa and put his arm round her shoulders, pulling her into him. But something felt strange to him... she was stiff and seemed to be trying to hold something in. "Ok... what did you fail on? I just want to help... please tell me what happened." "I don't know... there were lots of things, I can't remember what. I just failed. Can we just leave it?" Emma pulled away from him, stood up and walked into the kitchen. He heard cupboards opening and closing and the kettle being filled. John sat and thought for a minute, and began to put things together in his mind. He stood up and followed Emma into the kitchen. "Emma, where's the results sheet? You know, the printout they give you that shows why you failed? Let's look at it together and we can work out how to get you more confident on those areas." Emma had stopped where she was, facing the kitchen wall, with the kettle in her hand. She put it down and replied to him. "I threw it away." "In the bin? That's ok, I'll get it out..." and John began walking across the kitchen to the recycling bin. "No, outside. At the test centre. Now can we please just leave it. I've had enough of talking about the stupid driving test." Emma turned away from John and began to walk out of the room, bypassing him without looking at him. John looked at her, confused. It wasn't like her to be rude to him, or to push him away when she was upset. She normally turned to him for reassurance and comfort... unless there was something she wasn't telling him. Unless she felt guilty about something she'd done wrong. He paused for a moment and then made a decision. "Emma, come back here." Her stride faltered somewhat, but she kept walking. He raised his voice: "Emma, NOW." Emma stopped where she was and looked down at her feet. Her body language revealed it all. Her shoulders were forward, her hands were clasped together in front of her, and she didn't dare look up at John. She looked like a naughty girl who'd been found out. "If I call the test centre now and ask what happened, what are they going to tell me?" Silence. "Emma, what are they going to tell me? Either you tell me now, or I'm going to call them." He got his phone out of the pocket, although given the centre closed hours ago, it was more for effect than anything. Emma mumbled something. "Speak up." "I didn't go," she whispered. still looking down at her feet, which seemed to be glued to the spot. John walked over to her and stood in front of her. He placed his right finger under her chin, and gently raised his face to look into his. He could see a hint of tears in her eyes, but also a familiar look of defiance. "I don't need to drive. I don't need my licence. The test is ridiculous - why do I need to do it? It's just a waste of time." She crossed her arms and looked away again. "Emma it was your idea to get your licence! You know how much it would help and you know how excited you are about finally being able to drive." "You don't fucking know everything, John. I don't want to drive. Just fuck off and leave me alone." She turned away from him, but didn't try to leave. John looked at her and felt that familiar tug of emotions. The love he felt for her, and the sympathy he had for the self-doubt that she suffered from. But he also knew that she was her own worst enemy. That she was intelligent and capable and could do anything she wanted when she put her mind to it. But more often than not, she talked herself into believing that she couldn't. And when she went down one of those rabbit holes, she would often end up lashing out, lying and insulting John rather than admitting what was happening. One of the things they'd talked about at length when they first got together was Emma's desire to meet a man who didn't just sit back and let her do this, but who pushed her hard to succeed. A man who cared about her enough to motivate her to achieve what they both knew she could. A man who cared enough to discipline her she needed it. John put his hand on Emma's upper harm, and spoke softly but clearly. "Emma Wilson, you will not speak to me like that. You will not lie to me. And when we've agreed that you're going to do something, you will do it. Do you understand?" "Hmmph." She looked down and away again, but didn't move. "Right. I think you know what's coming next, young lady. I'm not going to put up with behaviour like this. You're coming with me." John tightened his grip on Emma's upper arm and began walking back towards the living room, pushing her along in front of her. She began to pull in the other direction, but it was a half-hearted effort. She knew from experience that once he'd made a decision like this, there wasn't much point fighting it. As they entered the living room, John sat on the sofa and pulled Emma in front him, facing him, standing between his knees. "Emma, it was your idea to do this test. We paid for it. We'd agreed you were going to go. You know I didn't mind if you passed or failed - it's about getting the experience if nothing else. But by not going, you've denied yourself that experience, you've wasted all that money, and you've allowed your own self-doubt to get in the way again. And to top it all, you didn't message me, you didn't answer my calls, you lied to me, and you were rude to me. I will not accept this kind of behaviour. You know very well how I deal with it. When you behave like a naughty girl, I'm going to treat you like one. I'm going to put you over my knee and spank you on the bare bottom until you've learned your lesson here. Do you understand? Is there anything you want to say?" Emma looked down at her feet in silence. John moved her to his right side, and guided her gently over his knee, so she was lying across the sofa, her bottom elevated over his lap. She was wearing dark blue skinny jeans and white socks, with a white fitted t-shirt, that rode up slightly as he moved her into position. John placed his left hand in the small of her back and rested his right hand on her jean-covered bottom. Then he raised his right hand, and brought it down <smack> on Emma's right bottom cheek. He raised it again and <smack> on the left side. Over and over, alternating cheeks, while his left gently pressed down on her back. Emma gritted her teeth and said nothing. After a few minutes, John was confident that her bottom was a little warmer, and he stood Emma up in front of him again. He undid her jeans button and zip, and slip them down over her hips, revealing a pair of white lace knickers. He guided her back over his knee, and began spanking her again, this time producing a more satisfying <smack> sound with each blow. This produced more of an effect. She tensed up. "John stop it. Get off me. You're such an arsehole." John kept smacking her bottom as he began to speak again. "Emma you know very well that you need this. You know that you can't behave like this and get away with it. You chose to marry a man who would keep you in line, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. This is going to keep going until you've calmed down and realised how bad your behaviour has been today. He continued to rain the smacks down on her bottom. A few minutes later, John stood Emma up and again brought her around to face him in front of him. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her knickers, and slowly pulled them down to her knees. Emma blushed and put her hands in front of her, screwing them together awkwardly. However often this happened, she never got used to the embarrassment of having her bottom bared like a naughty girl, and standing there half naked waiting to be punished. John guided her back over her knee, and rested his hand on her bare bottom. This time he gripped the outside of her waist with his left hand, holding her firmly in place. And he began spanking here again. Fairly quickly, it had a noticeable effect on Emma. With nothing to protect her skin, the hand on her bare bottom stung more and more, and she began to unintentionally squirm, trying in vain to move her bottom out of the way of the raining spanks. John kept spanking, watching her skin change shade to a deeper shade of pink. Emma suddenly whipped her right arm around to cover her bottom with her hand. John grabbed her wrist with his left hand, and pinned it in the small of her back, applying enough pressure to hold it firmly in place. He continued spanking. "Emma, you know how much I care about you. You know that I'm doing this for your own good. It is not acceptable to talk to me like you did today, or to lie to me. Every time you act like this, you're going to end up back over my knee for a sound spanking." He continued to spank her until her bottom was turning red. He could hear her breathing quicken and feel her tensing and relaxing over his knee. He paused, and rested his hand on her bum, which was now red and warm. She relaxed slightly as he stopped the smacks. He gently raised her up and stood her in front of him again. "Emma if you just hadn't taken the test, we'd have stopped here. But lying to me and speaking to me like that is another matter. I want you to go and get the wooden spoon." "John, no, please. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it!" "Kick your jeans and knickers off, and go and get the spoon. Now." Emma paused for a moment, saw the look in John's eye, and did as she was told, walking out of the room naked from the waist down, rubbing her bottom with her hands. She returned in a few seconds with the spoon and handed it to him. She put herself back over his knee without being asked. "Give me your hands," John instructed. She put both her arms behind her back, and John gently but firmly grasped both wrists in his left hand, and pinned them to her back, pressing down to keep her in place. Then he rested the head of the spoon on her left bottom cheek. "Emma, this is to make sure that you understand how seriously I take lying and swearing at me. It's just not something I'm going to put up with, and you need to understand that." He raised his hand and flicked the spoon down <thwack> against her bottom, alternative left and right cheeks. "Owwwww" Emma yelled, the first time she'd lost control since the spanking began. She began wriggling as hard as she could, but with her arms pinned behind her back there was little she coudl do. "Please, it hurts!". John continued, "I know it does... that's the point... you need to learn to behave, young lady". He continued slapping her bottom with the spoon, watching redder splotches appear on top of the existing colour. Left and right, over and over, focusing mainly on the sit spots, but with the odd smack to the top of the thigh. As he continued, some of the tension left Emma's body and he heard her breathing change again. She twisted her head to the left to look at him, and he saw tears begin to run down her cheek. "I'm sorry John. I love you. I'm sorry." Her body jerked and she began sobbing. "I didn't mean to... I just... I can't help it sometimes. Please. I'm sorry." He kept smacking her bottom. He continued spanking her for another minute or two, and then stopped, placing the spoon on the sofa beside him. He rested his right hand on her bottom, feeling the heat, and began gently rubbing it, massaging away some of the sting. He let go of her wrists and rubbed her back with his left hand. "I know you're sorry," he said. After a moment, he guided her up, turned her around, and sat her down on his knee, sitting sideways with her legs up, knees bent, and feet on the sofa, and he pulled her in close to him. His right hand reached round and held her bottom, gently massaging it, and his left arm held her around her shoulders. Her head nestled against his neck, as her body shook as she cried. "Emma I love you so much. All I want is what's best for you. I will not accept behaviour like that, and I will spank you if you ever act like this again. But it's all over now. It's ok. You've had your punishment, and it's all ok." He held her close to him as the sobs subsided, and she burrowed as close in to him as she could. His feelings for her were never stronger than when she was in this position, when she'd taken her punishment, given herself to him, and he was holding her and reassuring her. "Thank you," she whispered. "I love you too."