I am standing, as I should be, naked in Husband’s office at precisely 10:00 a.m. Once he comes in and tells me to begin, I will confess any feelings of guilt I’ve had for the past week and he will decide if I need punishment, Maintenance, or both. I’ve actually had a good week, so as I confess, I have a feeling it will be just Maintenance.

I say “just”, but Husband has a very heavy hand and makes sure that I am VERY aware that He is the Head of our Household, just as I insisted he was over 2 years ago. He wasn’t sure about living as a Domestic Discipline couple at first, but has absolutely embraced it now. While I can’t say I “enjoy” Maintenance, I certainly don’t hate it! I mean, yes, it’s unpleasant while it’s happening, but at the same time, I feel warm, loved, accepted, and so much more both while it’s going on and afterwards. I love knowing that no matter how busy or distracted Husband becomes during the week, he ALWAYS reserves Saturday Mornings for me.

After my fairly short confession, Husband decides that I need Maintenance, but no punishment. The part that surprised me, though, was that he ordered me to the bedroom. I looked at him questioningly, to which he stated, “Do you WANT this to turn into a punishment?”

I quickly scurried to the bedroom and, as instructed, lay belly down on our bed.

He began with a warm up spanking across my ass, upper thighs and calves even. I was crying by the time he finished and beginning to feel all soft and warm (not to mention wet!).

“Count”

Sighing, I began to count each stroke of the crop he had chosen for today. I have a love/hate relationship with counting. I love that he makes me do it because it forces me to focus on each and every strike. I also hate it because I can’t get into subspace since it forces me to focus on each and every strike.

“Ten!” I squeal as the crop follows the path his hand blazed. First my left cheek, then down my left thigh, ending with my left calf – OMG!!!

“Twenty!” I sobbed. I would NOT be sitting well for days! as the crop left its kiss on my upper right thigh.

“Thirty!” By then, I was incoherent. The pain was a distant memory but my pledge to submit to Husband was foremost in my mind. The room smelled of my musk even as I wiped snot and tears from my face.

“Well done, Wife, well done. Now, up on your knees. You did well, so I’m going to make love to you,” he murmured. I could hear him removing his clothes. “I made sure, thought, that you’re backside will be good and tender, so I’m going to take you from behind.”

Grateful, I did as he commanded. He again took his time, caressing my back