Maintenance Spanking Part 1 - 14 Nov 2025
Spanking 14 Nov 2025
Maintenance, M/F,
So normally I get spanked on Friday evenings. but I often know that I am going to be spanked because hubby drops a hint here and there either that day or sometimes even the day before. However, this time I didn't get so much a peep the whole day Friday.
I called him on the way home and just exchanged pleasantries. He said he didn't want to have leftovers tonight and that we should go out. It's nice when we go out to eat just the two of us. We can talk without children around and it's nice to reconnect just the two of us.
I got home and hubby wasn't there, so I dropped off my bags and hurried upstairs to freshen up. I was finishing the last touch of mascara when I heard the familiar rumble of his truck pulling into the garage. I smoothed the skirt of my blue dress, checked my reflection one more time, and headed downstairs just as he walked through the door.
He looked incredible—charcoal suit, lavender shirt, the top button undone just the way I like. He gave me that slow smile, the one that starts in his eyes before it reaches his mouth.
“Perfect timing,” he said. “You look beautiful.”
“You clean up pretty well yourself,” I teased, leaning in for a kiss. It felt good to be heading out together, no kids, no rushing, no noise—just us.
He held the door open and I slipped into the passenger seat of his truck. There’s something comforting about riding with him there—high up, country music quietly playing, his hand resting on my knee as we headed toward Dallas for our dinner reservation.
The Italian restaurant was warm and cozy, glowing with the soft light that makes everything feel a little romantic. We settled into our booth and let out identical deep sighs, the kind you only make after escaping the house for a night.
Talk turned to Thanksgiving almost immediately.
“So… the plan,” he said, already sounding skeptical.
“You mean the chaos?” I laughed. “Yes, both families, in one house.”
“And no I want to get a ham, I don’t like dry turkey,” he said, matter-of-fact.
Then Christmas came up. Who’s hosting? What gifts the kids wanted. Whether we should try putting up the lights the weekend after Thanksgiving or procrastinate like every other year.
Somewhere between our dinner and having an evening coffee, I remembered.
“Wicked 2 tickets go on sale tonight!”
He pulled out his phone. “You want to get them now?”
“For the whole family. It’ll be something fun to look forward to.”
So right there in that warm little booth, we bought the tickets. He typed in the card number while I zoomed in on the seating chart, and it felt like such a married moment—simple, sweet, so us.
Then, naturally, he opened Wordle.
I did too.
The game was on.
Four guesses for me.
Five for him.
He took the loss with dramatic sighs that had me laughing into my napkin.
When dinner wound down, he paid without hesitation, sliding his card to the waiter the second the bill came. We walked out into the cool Dallas night, and the drive home was peaceful, lights flickering across the dash as the truck hummed beneath us.
About ten minutes into the ride, he gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
His voice dropped just slightly—the tone I know far too well.
“Just so you know,” he said, “when we get home, you’ll be getting a maintenance spanking.”
My breath caught, that warm mix of nerves and reassurance curling low in my stomach. Maintenance nights always settle me, recenter me—especially with holidays coming and life getting busy.
I shifted in my seat, the hem of my blue dress brushing my thigh as I whispered, “Yes, sir.”
He smiled, eyes fixed on the road, but I could see the satisfaction in the curve of his mouth.
The drive home suddenly felt a whole lot longer—
and the night definitely wasn’t over once we pulled into the driveway.
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