Sleep eludes me

 Sleep eludes me

Spanking 5 December 2025

(Story includes consensual spanking between husband and wife if that offends you please do not read.)

This true story started last night in a weird way. 

A friend I’ve known for some time was talking and I was telling her that I was feeling kind of down. She suggested that I wear clothes that made me feel good. I told her, “That was a good idea.” 

I continued, “I have a cute skirt and blouse that I could wear Friday. I pulled it out and she nodded approvingly at the Pale blue skirt that went down just past knee length and then the white skirt. 

Then she said, “Do you have any cute socks?” And I replied, “Yup, and I went to the drawer and rummaged around and pulled out some white ankle socks with embroidered Christmas lights on them. She said, “Perfect”

Then said, “Let me see your panties?" To which shockingly I replied, "What?” And she corrected herself and said, “NO! Not the ones you are wearing. Ha Ha. In you drawer.” We both laughed over that one. 

I opened my drawer full of my panties and I let her rummage through till she held up a pair in victory, some white panties with little hollies all over them. And thrusted toward me, “You will wear these!!!" 

Oke doke I said and added to the morning’s outfit.

Next Morning

Early morning was full of chores and by the time I got the kids up and was changed and out the door for bed hubby never saw how I was dressed. 

Hubby texted me at work today out of nowhere. It was right after lunch—my phone buzzed and all the notification said was:

“Maintenance tonight.”

Just two words, but they landed like a weight in my stomach. I knew exactly why he was saying it, even before he asked anything. I’ve been carrying around this guilt all week, hoping it would somehow pass without being noticed. But the moment I saw that text, I felt the truth press right up against me.

So I replied honestly, even though it made my face burn right there at my desk.

I told him:

“I need it. I stayed up on my phone several times this week. I didn’t go to bed at 11 like I’m supposed to. One night I went at 12:30.”

It felt like a confession—short, blunt, but overdue. He responded almost immediately:

“We’ll talk when you get home.”

Which is husband-talk for: you already know this isn’t going to be light.

The rest of the afternoon dragged on. It’s strange how knowing discipline is coming can settle you and tie you in knots at the same time. Part of me dreaded it, and part of me felt relief that he knew and would address it. I had been running on too little sleep, and it was showing… in my patience, in my stress, in the fact that I kept reaching for my phone at night when I should have been shutting down.

The drive home from work was actually good for a reflection. I drove in silence and did not listen to my typical science podcast. Instead I reflected on the day, the week and of course my poor decisions for sleep. I felt proud that I told him because he would never know. 

When I got home, I set my bags down and slipped my shoes off, stepped around the corner and he first looked me up and down and said, “Very Cute. You look very festive.” I pulled my skirt out and struck a pose with a huge smile. His warm smile pleased me and put me at ease.  

His smile melted away and he looked so serious. He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t look angry. He just looked… steady. And that’s almost worse, because it means he’s not reacting—he’s following through.

He sat me down at the kitchen counter and the moment shifted from fun and light to more heavy. 

He started by saying, “Thank you for being honest and telling me your issue with not going to bed on time.” He asked me why I broke my bedtime all week. I told him the truth: I got sucked into scrolling, into nonsense that didn’t matter, and then I kept telling myself “five more minutes,” until suddenly it was nearly 1 a.m. 

He reminded me—calmly—that I can’t function well on too little sleep, and that I know better, and that bedtime exists to protect my health, not control me. He also mentions how my attitude is a direct correlation with the amount of sleep I get, that I get emotional when I have not had enough sleep and lastly my decision making ability follows suit. 

Then he said, “You know this is a pattern you can’t fall back into.”

I nodded because he was right. I already felt the sting of disappointment in myself long before he lifted a finger.

He said, “Okay Missy, go up and get into some pjs and meet me in the living room.” I nodded meekly and ran up to our bedroom and stripped down to just my panties. I slid on some warm comfy pj bottoms that are red and black plaid and thick and warm. Then I buttoned up a top with big black buttons. The material pattern matched the bottoms but was a lighter material. 

I walked down stairs barefoot and saw the chair there waiting for me. His back was to me as I quietly walked into the kitchen and pulled the heavy wood spoon out of the drawer and brought it to him meekly. As I approached him he looked up in my eyes and penetrated my soul then he looked down at my hand and saw that I was holding the heavy spoon. He reached his hand out for the spoon and it took my whole being not to pull the spoon back away from him. 

Holding the spoon up he examined it. “Seems fitting. You act like a little girl with your bedtime, get spanked like a little girl.” he said as my cheeks instantly blushed and I bit my lower lip. He stood, moved to the chair and took my hand and pulled me in front of him. With the spoon in his lap he hooked my pj bottoms and slid them over my bubble butt and they pooled at my feet.

He smiled as he was looking at my panties. “That’s cute” he said, “when did you get these?” hooking his finger in the waistband and snapping it. I said smiling, “I have had those for years.” He replied, “Never seen them, but I like them!” “You can Thank April” I said, “she told me last night to wear them.”

With that, the cuteness was over and my panties joined my pj bottoms around my ankles. He dropped the spoon on the floor and pulled me over which startled me and I landed with a thud on his lap. He adjusted me over his lap and then pulled me tightly over his lap. Without any more lectures his hand found my bare bottom. 

Instantly I squealed and reached back. In one swift move my hand was pulled to the middle of my back and all I could do was endure his relentless hand landing on my bottom over and over. Pretty soon I was blubbering and regretting my choices last week with my sleep habits. Right when I thought I couldn't take anymore, he stopped. I laid over his lap blubbering. While he rubbed my back, he tapped my shoulder and said, “Spoon baby”

My blubbering increased in loudness and pitched, and with a shaky hand I reached up with the spoon which he took. He tapped my bottom with the heavy spoon and then splat it landed on my bottom and my back arched and I screeched. As the spoon landed over and over my bottom I lifted my legs and tried to cover my bottom with my feet. He pushed my feet down and landed the spoon on my thigh which made me scream out. Quickly he moved his leg over my legs and now I was completely trapped as the evil spoon kept slapping my bottom and the pain was unbearable. Screaming and my hand pushing up from the floor. 

I honestly did not think I could take any more but there was nothing I could do about it. The spoon kept peppering my sit spot over and over. I was screaming and trying to twist in desperation. 

The spanking itself was pretty hard to take, and more than enough to get my attention and clear out all the anxious energy I’d been carrying around. I was spent, and the spanking wasn’t angry or mean—just a consistent, steady reminder of what I am to do from now on. The kind that pulls all the guilt out of you and replaces it with clarity.

Afterwards, he stood me up, looked me straight in the eyes, and said,

“You’re going to bed early tonight. And your phone is mine tonight and for next week’s school night’s evenings.”

I honestly didn’t argue. Losing my phone stings, but it’s fair. I know I need the break more than I want to admit.

He sent me to shower and get ready for bed while he finished a few things around the house. Being put to bed early as an adult is always humbling, but tonight it felt strangely comforting. Like a reset I didn’t realize I desperately needed.

As I curled up under the blankets, without the glow of my phone anywhere near me, I felt the tension I’ve been carrying finally ease. I hate disappointing him… but I love how grounded I feel when he steps in and helps me get back on track.

Maybe tonight’s earlier bedtime is exactly what I needed. And maybe those five phone-free evenings aren’t punishment so much as space to breathe again.

Either way, I’m ending this day corrected, cared for, and reset—exactly how maintenance is supposed to work.