Last week of school

Spanking 12 Dec 2025
(Spanking, Maintenance, M/F, Hand)

Tonight was one of those quiet, grounding evenings that I’ve come to recognize as a gift, even if it didn’t start that way.

On my drive home from work, my phone buzzed. It was a text from him letting me know the kids were at friends’ houses for the evening. Then, almost as an afterthought—but not really—he added that I was going to get a spanking when I got home. I couldn’t help myself; I called him immediately and put on my best fake-whiny voice. “Why?” I asked, stretching the word out the way I know makes him laugh.

He did laugh. I could hear the humor in his voice as he answered simply, “Because I said so.” The tone was light, teasing, and oddly reassuring all at once.

When I got home, the house was quiet in that rare way it only is when the kids are gone. He didn’t rush into anything. Instead, he guided me through the familiar routine that helps me slow down. He undressed me slowly and it felt weird not to undress but have his hands unbuttoning  my blouse and slip them off my shoulders. Then he reached and unzipped my skirt and had me step out. 

“Red panties,” he continued, “Nice, I will have to match your bottom to the color of those panties.”I blushed as I stepped out of them. Now standing in my bra and panties nervously he looked me up and down smiling then he turned me around and unhooked my bra. They slid off and joined the rest of the clothes on the couch. He looked down, and said, “Let’s get these panties off, shall we?” I shook my head “NO” but he ignored me and slowly pulled my panties over my athletic bottom he smiled as my bottom came into view.  

He put me in the corner for a few minutes while he talked—about how the last week of school always ramps up my stress, how I try to power through instead of pausing, and how it all builds until I’m wound too tight. Standing there, listening, I could feel my shoulders start to drop as he named what I hadn’t even fully admitted to myself.

When it was time, he had me come out of the corner and over his knee. His hand rubbing my bare bottom felt too good. I almost moaned as he rubbed. Rubbing from my upper thighs to my lower back. Then without warning a hard but not that hard smack on my bottom. The smacking continued at a steady pace and after a while my bottom started warming and my squirming started to increase. 

Then his spanks started to really increase. And my squeals were increasing and my desperation was growing as well. I kept saying, “Please, please it hurts!” and he did not stop, he kept spanking my bottom. It hurt so much but I could feel my stress melt away. By the time he stopped, my stress had left my body through my tears that hit the floor. 

It was calm, purposeful, and exactly what he had said it would be—a reset, a bottom-warming meant to help me let go of the pressure I’d been carrying all week. He rubbed my bottom and said some sweet things, and then helped me up. 

Afterward, I changed straight into my pajamas before we even thought about eating. Soft clothes, bare feet, and the sense that the hard part of the day was behind me made everything feel gentler.

We curled up together on the couch, snuggling in that easy closeness that comes when tension has been released and nothing else is expected of me. Dinner was simple because he had taken care of it—takeout already waiting. He got orange chicken, and he made sure I had exactly what I wanted: sushi, grilled chicken, and vegetables. It felt thoughtful and quietly loving.

Later, the kids came home full of energy and stories, excitedly telling us about pizza and ice cream with their friends. We listened, smiling, happy to see them happy. The house filled back up with noise and life, and everything felt balanced again.

Looking back on the evening, I’m grateful—not just for the discipline itself, but for the way it fits into our rhythm as a family. I was steadied, and cared for when I’m stretched thin—and being reminded that I don’t have to hold everything together on my own.

Side note: Next morning, he was feeling frisky. He slapped me on my bottom as I was laying there reading. And he said, “Come here woman.” Then my camisole and panties came off. A positioned me on my knees and pushed my head down to the mattress, smack my bottom and then took me from behind.