Maintenance Spanking Part 2 - 14 Nov 2025

Spanking 14 Nov 2025 Continued

Maintenance,  M/F, 

If you have not read part 1 click here it is a quick read. 

The porch light clicked on automatically as we pulled into the driveway, casting a soft glow across the front of the house. He opened the garage, pulled in and parked the truck. After he turned off the engine, for a moment we just sat there in the quiet. My heart was already beating a little faster, not from fear, but from the familiar anticipation I always feel on maintenance nights.

He looked over at me, warm but steady.

“Are you doing okay?”

I nodded. “Mm-hm.”

“Good,” he said, brushing his thumb over the back of my hand before getting out of the truck.

Inside, the house was silent—kids at a friends house, dishes waiting until morning, the kind of calm that only settles in late at night. I slipped off my heels in the mudroom while he hung his jacket on the hook. The lavender of his shirt looked richer in the soft hallway light.

He didn’t rush.

He never does.

Instead, he stepped close, brushed a strand of hair away from my cheek, and kissed me—slow, steady, the kind that makes my shoulders drop and my breath ease.

“Go upstairs,” he said gently. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

My cheeks warmed, but I obeyed, the click of my steps on the stairs sounding impossibly loud in the quiet house. In our room, I smoothed the blue dress nervously, reminding myself: maintenance. Routine. Connection. Centering. This was part of the rhythm we’d built together, especially when life got hectic.

When he finally came in, he closed the door softly behind him.

No lecture, no tension—just calm, the firm sort of calm that tells me he’s helping shoulder the emotional load I tend to carry without noticing.

“Come here,” he said.

I did, feeling small in the best way—safe, anchored, cared for. He wrapped his arms around my waist first, letting me rest my head against his chest. His hand moved slowly up and down my back, settling my breathing.

“You’ve been running on empty,” he murmured. “This will help reset you before the week gets wild.”

I nodded against him. He could always see it before I admitted it.

His hands reached around me and started to unzip my dress. His big hands slipped the dress off my shoulders and he lowered it as I stepped out of it. I saw his smile as he looked me up and down and the hunger grew in his eyes. I shuddered as I felt so vulnerable. 

He turned and took my dress and put it in the dry cleaning bag. His attention turned back toward me standing there in a bra and panties. He took my hand and led me over to the chair in the sitting area. As he got to the chair. He unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up. My eyes got huge and he sat and positioned me directly in front of him between his knees. 

“Let me have the bra Lisa.” he said calmly. I gulped and said, “Yes sir.” as I reached behind and undid my bra clasp, letting the bra fall forward on my arms. Then I handed it to him. He took my bra, folded it in half and tucked the straps into the folded bra, and set it next to him on the side table. 

I put my hands on my head and He reached over and hooked his thumbs into my panties, slid them down to my ankles and I naturally stepped out of them. I started trembling and feeling so powerless. With one motion he took my hand and pulled me to the side and then over his knee. My hands are on the floor and I whimper as I wonder how I look nude over his knee. 

He raised his hand and landed it right in the middle of my right cheek. I yelped and waited for his hand to land again. It didn’t take long as his heavy hand landed over and over again on my poor bottom. Yelps turned to crying very quickly. 

After my bottom was thoroughly spanked and I was hiccupping and blubbering. He helped me to his feet. Looking up at me he said, “Okay Lisa just a little more with the hair brush. Go get the hairbrush from the bathroom.” He smacked my bottom to send me on my way. Crying I ran into the bathroom, grabbed the brush and came running back into the bedroom. (I am sure that was a site). 

He was very polite and said, “Thank you baby.” and patted his knee for me to go back over. My bottom was burning so much that I did not want to go over his knee but I complied and laid my body over his knee. He adjusted me and then told me that I was going to get 10 per cheek. I nodded and held on to his leg tightly.

He locked my leg and very hard smacked each cheek 10 violent times. I was screaming bloody murder. When he finished I was blubbering over his lap but I could feel the weight of the week drain from my brain. The stress was gone. 

The maintenance spanking that happened was just like it always is—steady, purposeful, more about grounding than intensity. It wasn’t harsh. It didn’t need to be. It was about reconnecting us, reminding me to slow down, breathe, and let him lead when I’ve been carrying too much.

When it was over, he guided me into his arms again, kissing the top of my head while I curled against him.

“Good girl,” he whispered softly. “You did just fine.”

I felt lighter.

Calmer.

Restored in that deep way only he seems able to reach.

He held me there for a long moment before finally pulling back just enough to look into my eyes.

“You hungry?” he asked with a little smile. “We’ve still got that leftover cheesecake.”

I laughed quietly, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. “Cheesecake sounds perfect.”

We went downstairs together, his hand warm and steady in mine, the house still and peaceful around us. And as we shared the last few bites at the kitchen counter, barefoot and relaxed, I felt the sweetness of the whole night settling around me.

Dinner, conversation, laughter, connection—

and now this soft, quiet closeness.

It was exactly the reset I didn’t know I needed.

Note: For those who are surprised that I ate cheesecake. It just felt right to share that with my husband. I had 1 bite of cheesecake, it was good. I washed it down with a tall glass of water. Funny thing is, by 2 am I was sitting on the toilet peeing wondering why I drank so much so late.