Up to then, the only spanking we did was when made love and all of the punishments we'd shared were playful role-plays that got as hot as we wanted them to and always ended up with sore bottoms for both of us and great sex.

​

Spankings were stimulating, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't fantasize about really punishing my husband and have to fight the urge to satisfy my curiosity sometimes while I was enjoying the feel of him bucking and squirming over my lap as helplessly as I knew and proved he was on numerous previous occasions when our play grew intense as it often did.

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The pain enhanced pleasure is just arousing as hell, and I had given Steve as good as he gave and worse with a worn, old, maple hairbrush I found at a flea market and fell in love with. It looked like it held some spanking stories within it, and would get the reaction out of Steve that I hoped for — and got — the first time I used it on his sexy but sassy ass.

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He was my fiancé then, and still beset by silly sexist ideas about bravery and besting me when we played a mutual spanking game, and he always won until I realized why and demanded something harder than my hand to spank his muscled young male ass with.

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The old hairbrush was the pinnacle of the little collection of implements I had, and the only one reserved for my personal use after I satisfied my curiosity and felt how badly it burned and stung just once. I knew that my cowardly boyfriend wasn't exaggerating then, and adjusted my intensity accordingly. But, as I was saying, I didn't think I'd ever cross over that line between play and punishment until my frustrating, infuriating and game addicted mate pushed me over the last night I wasted my breath trying to talk and reason with him.

​

Steve tried to placate me and keep his promise to cut back the hours he spent playing, but it was like he was really addicted and I had to catch him getting a fix on his phone or laptop when he knew he shouldn't be. I'd caught him doing it again in the bathroom that evening, believe it or not, and was going to give him an ultimatum that didn't include a real spanking. But my then 27-year old husband's reaction when I caught and interrupted him was so much like that of a spoiled, snotty little brat that the seed of the idea to really spank the stupid out of him suddenly popped into my head.

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I'd read things about how crossing the line between play and punishment could screw things up and wanted no part of that risk in the past. But my husband had frustrated me too much, and the stupid, selfish whining and complaining about me "bitching at him" all the time that spewed out of his mouth infuriated me so much that the seed of an idea quickly blossomed into a burning, overwhelming desire to really spank my mate's dumb ass
and make him see what he was doing to us and feel as sorry for it as he damn well should!

​

I'd playfully punished my big bad mate many times for every kind of misbehavior I could find or think of, including his obsessive gaming a couple of times in the recent past. But Steve didn't pick up the hints I hoped to drop, and the little temper tantrum he threw when I caught him red-handed only made me more angry, determined and, I have to admit, eager to really make my naughty, needy husband suffer for what he'd done and stop doing it immediately out of fear alone if need be.

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I came to the decision that I knew would have to change our lives when Steve started whining and snarling about me, "bitching at him all the time over nothing." 

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Nothing?! Ewwwwww!

 

I couldn't know how spanking the spoiled and stupid out of my overgrown boy of a husband would effect our lives, but I didn't care, either, in the sudden rush of righteous arousal that swept over me when my decision was made and the realization dawned that I was about to fulfill a secret fantasy and satisfy a burning curiosity once and for all!

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The only real difference between one of our previous role-plays and the punishment spanking I gave Steve that first time was that we weren't playing, and the reality of it made a very big difference, indeed. Especially for my husband! He didn't believe a big, strong man like him could really be punished like a boy, and couldn't believe I wanted to put him to the test when I finally cut him off and told him so and why with examples of what a shitty, selfish husband he'd been he couldn't deny or help but feel guilty about when I waved them in his face.

 

Seeing that I finally had Steve's full attention, I blasted him with both barrels before I hit him below the belt as I knew I would by telling him how much he'd hurt me and how he was going to accept being hurt back or we and our marriage were in big trouble. I didn't dare use the "D" (as in divorce) word. I didn't want to risk even saying it out loud, but I knew I didn't have to. My husband is a very smart, thoughtful man, and I knew he'd think the worst all on his own and do whatever he had to prevent it.

​

Steve loves me as much as I love him, and I didn't feel good about using our love against him, but I didn't feel all that bad about it at the time, either. Everything that was screwed up between us was HIS fault, and a spanking seemed like the perfect solution and a small price to pay compared to the hours of suffering he'd forced me to endure while he was off in fantasyland slaying dragons, storming castles and doing whatever other worthless stuff he did in his dumb games with his online friends.

 

Just thinking of him preferring them to me pissed me off anew, and I demanded to know if my, "online warrior," was brave enough to accept the punishment he deserved? I was sure that and adding, "Or are you too cowardly?" would prick Steve's ego and knew it had when his shoulders suddenly sagged and the bratty, cocky demeanor he'd displayed dissolved like a fog and left the scared and confused, overgrown boy he was deep down
showing through.

​

I made him stand in the corner while I went to retrieve my wooden hairbrush from the bedroom where I always kept and used it before. But everything was different that evening and wanting to keep it that way, I decided to bring my brush out of our playroom and use it to really spank my husband on the living room couch where I'd be most comfortable and able to support and control his taller, bigger, and stronger frame while he's over my knee.

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I took my time to torture Steve and set the hairbrush down next to me when I sat on the sofa so he had to see it. Then, after one last big breath, I called my bratty husband out of the corner and made him stand in front of me so I could strip, scold, threaten and get him ready for his spanking as I'd done many times before, but only playfully and without the emotional weight of reality that made everything different and more intense. Especially for my husband!

 

Steve whined and whimpered about how embarrassed he was for real as I unveiled the erection that my touch encouraged, but I didn't playfully fondle, kiss, lick, or shove my husband's gorgeous tool into my mouth for a quick suck as I usually would have. Instead, I remembered something I'd read, and proved effective yet again when I grabbed the base of Steve's tool with one hand and slapped the trapped, exposed head of his penis back and forth a few times with the fingers of my free hand as hard as I could.

 

Steve whooped with surprise and hopped in pain, but I held him by the cock and watched in awe and amazement as his throbbing erection deflated as quickly as a pricked balloon! My naughty mate moaned and groaned when I giggled and pinched his shaft while it shrank to a cute, little nubbin. But neither of us had a word to say as I pulled Steve down across my lap and into the familiar but brand spanking-new under the circumstances position I wanted him in and knew would render him most helpless. That was with his chest on the sofa, his knees on the floor, and his legs pinned down under one his wife's strong legs as securely as his free arm was caught and pinned up his back.

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Steve didn't believe I could hold him over my lap if he really wanted off before I and the good, old OTK position proved him wrong, and I knew he was thinking about that and regretting climbing over my lap so willingly as I retrieved my wooden hairbrush and rubbed and tapped his bare buns with it by the way they clenched and the edge in his voice when he groaned, "Baby, please..."

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Steve didn't know what else to say, but I did and it began with, "Don't you 'baby' me, buster! Oh no! You're the baby right now and you're going to be bawling like one too before I'm done with you!"

​

I wish I could have been more eloquent and poetic at that last momentous moment beforeI gave my spouse his first punishment spanking, but my brain and body were preoccupied and overwhelmed by the enormity of it all and the sight of Steve's two round, bare and white buns staring up at me over my lap and begging for me to smack them with my brush longer and harder than I'd ever spanked them before!

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I reminded myself that there was not going to be any holding back or stopping regardless of how desperately Steve pleaded for me to, and there wasn't any when every inch of butt flesh beneath my eyes had overlapping, oval brush prints filled with various shades of pink and red covering it and my online warrior began to yip and yelp more like some cowardly village boy.

 

Steve began to jerk, wriggle and clench his buns more too as I continued to elevate the heat in his seat, but it felt great to me and only got better the more frantic his struggles became.
 

They were fruitless and I chose to remain silent to concentrate on spanking Steve and savor everything I was feeling, and knew I was accomplishing what I had set out to do when my husband's yips, yelps and yipes turned into an ongoing outpouring of apologies, promises and pleas to stop spanking him that grew more sincere and strident as I ignored them and kept enjoying myself and the great lap dance I was making Steve give me while I whacked his bucking, bouncing and brightly blushing buns back and forth with my old hairbrush.

​

I could see, hear, feel and sense how tortuous Steve thought my first punishment spanking was as he squirmed and squalled, "N-Nooo more! Please stop! I'll never be selfish again!" and "I'll do anything you say— anything!" And I realized that the tears of pain I saw in his eyes and the occasional snort and sniffle I heard was the most crying his male ego would allow before I stopped. But I didn't want to and didn't feel bad about the bruises and little blood spots under the skin that my wooden weapon of punishment had raised on Steve's round buns.

​

They looked cuter than ever to me, and I just wanted to keep spanking them all night. But I had other needs and desires as well, and my naughty husband was ready, willing and able to satisfy them for hours after we went to bed early and made love like horny, kinky virgins who'd just stumbled onto a new aphrodisiac.

 

Steve's buns stayed tender in spots and pinching, patting, kissing and biting them both as I had to do a few times! It was a huge turn-on for me and my big bad husband, although he had to complain a little about
how hard I'd spanked him too to soothe his ego and need for sympathy.

​

I understood that and everything else Steve told me when our passions were spent and we talked about our first real marital spanking, and he actually listened and understood everything I'd been trying to tell him for what seemed like forever. He cut back his game time to the limits we agreed to set and spent the rest of the time being the good, loving, and considerate husband he had been before he lost his mind in his fantasy gaming world.

​

Steve is embarrassed that it took a real spanking from me to bring him back down to earth, but he's glad and grateful that I straightened him out and settled our problem that way instead of shutting each other out and ending up in divorce court as many couples seem to do. And, who knows, like we might have too if we weren't into spanking and I wasn't ready and willing to risk crossing the line to use it for that which it was originally intended and successfully employed yet again when I took advantage of it.

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Naturally, I believe most wives would agree, I fell in love and lust with the righteously justified jolts of power, passion, and vengeful satisfaction I felt as I gave my overgrown boy of a husband the good, sound bare bottom spanking over my lap that he obviously deserved and I'd secretly wanted to administer for a while. I remember thinking it best to keep Steve's first punishment sexless to set it apart when I started spanking him, but my desires changed during the lap dance I got and my needs demanded that I get some
satisfaction soon after I let my husband up and off my lap.

​

I led him to our bedroom by the cock, and was pleased when it sprang back to life on the way and stiffened into an easy to grasp handful I was eager to put everywhere it belonged. My horny husband was ready and performed like a porn star slave in bed as he obeyed my directions and used the cues I gave him to make me to come in waves that didn't end until I had the most sensational and satisfying orgasm of my life!

 

Punishing Steve had turned me on more than any other weird or normal aphrodisiac, foreplay or role-play we'd slid into our sex life since we met and mated.

​

I saw, heard, felt and commented on how turned on my supposedly traumatized husband was too, but he was reluctant to admit that really being punished got him hot until his fragile male ego felt better and he adjusted to the new dimension I'd added to our marriage, and the small changes crossing that line between play and punishment naturally made in our relationship and the both of us. 

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We couldn't go back, forget, or pretend that one of the most emotionally raw and intimate experiences we ever shared as a couple didn't happen. It did, and although Steve did not like the reality of it or the real feelings of guilt, shame, fear, foolishness and helplessness he said he felt for the first time during his punishment, he admits that he needed and deserved the spanking I gave him, and that we've been even closer and happier than we've ever been because of my intervention and natural assumption of the new, more dominant role I tasted and had to have more of in our play and everyday lives as well.

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My husband knows what to expect from now on if puts any games before me or pulls some similar stunt, and he also knows that I can't wait until he does so I can really punish him again because I've told him so. It was all good for me, after all, and although only you can know if it might be good for you too, I highly recommend resorting to the real thing to any wives wise enough to be reading this when an intervention is called for, as it naturally seems to be from time to time with most husbands.

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They can't help being infuriating and frustrating sometimes, and I'd guess every women reading this has flirted with the idea or desire to "really do it" someday when their husbands really screw up. It's only natural, and although crossing the line from play to punishment can be risky and will leave a mark on your relationship, it can be the blushing best one ever — and a marriage saver in the end — for some wives like me. And, maybe, you, too!