A Spanking Fantasy Story - Because Amy Asked :)

Amy, over at Eric51Amy49, challenged us to write a post on a spanking that went how we dreamed it should go.  A fantasy.  I struggle with something I've shared on here before... I was punished for it just the other night, in fact.  It doesn't happen often, but then all the sudden I'll have a month or two where I struggle, and then it doesn't bother me again, sometimes for years, only to rear up again for a while.  He is how it plays out a bit, and also I added parts to what I dream about for a spanking.  :)

I mention a butt plug in this story, but I promise, nothing sexual happens. :)  Well, that may disappoint as well, depending on who is reading. ;)  lol

     “EsMay, get your butt over here, right now.”
     “Yes?”  Great, what had she done now?  She stood from their bed on shaky legs.  What was her husband so upset about?  She’d remembered her chores, she’d done all of the things he’d asked of her that morning, she’d even taken on two of his chores so that he’d have less to do when he got home.  Still, she forced her feet to cross the room to where the Duke had just locked the bedroom door behind him.  She clutched her hands together and bowed her head.  Maybe the submissive gesture would earn his favour.
     “Is that how you address me?”
     So much for getting on his good side.  “No, Sir,” she said, barely keeping her tone respectful.  There was still a chance this was not going to end in a spanking, and she would do whatever it took to keep that a possibility.
     “Good Girl.  Strip.”
     She held back a groan, barely.  With shaky hands, she stripped her t-shirt, shorts, and panties to the floor.  She then placed her hands behind her back and laced her fingers.  Long ago he’d taught her to not cover her body in front of him, and she knew better to even try, despite the nervous flutter in her stomach that begged her to do exactly that.
     “Very nice.  Head up.  Look at me.”
     He always demanded eye contact while she was naked, and basically any time she was near him.  He shared once that he knew it was hard on her, that her knew her vulnerability was overwhelming, and that is partly why he did it.
     “What were you doing just now?”
     “Reading.”  She’d had her kindle, while laying on the bed, what did he think she was doing?
     “Maybe you were doing a little bit more than that?  Were you in a hot scene?”
     “Um, maybe.”  How had he known that?
     “Were you grinding your hips and thighs after you’ve promised not to do that while reading anymore?”
     Crap.  Had she?  Sometimes it was so inherent, she didn’t even realize.  It was a rule now, because he wanted all of her pleasure.  She was in serious trouble.  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
     “Over the side of the bed, bottom in the air.”
     She obeyed, waiting as the locks on their toy box rattled, then the lid to the box creaked as it opened.  He shuffled for nearly a minute through the items, which meant he wasn’t just going to grab one of their implements on top.  He was looking for something else.
     Something wet squirted directly behind her and made her jump.  That sound could only mean one thing.  He was going to plug her.  Her body traitorously aroused and thrummed with longing.  It didn't understand that this wouldn't be for fun, and that the Duke would not use a plug that would be easy to take.
     Cold, lubricated, steel met her bottom.  She forced herself to relax.  He had trained her well, and as long as she relaxed and submitted, he would go slow, and she would be able to accept the plug without much pain.  If she fought it, it would feel like she was being ripped apart, and he wouldn’t back down, no matter how much she pleaded, because this helped her submit in a way nothing else did.
     "Good girl.  I know this is hard, that you don't want to be here, but I'm proud of you for accepting your plug for me.  Feel me stretch you open with it.  Feel it going deep.  Feel my ownership over you.  Submit, your body and your mind, to what you know you need.  Feel that need grow, let it consume you.  You need this.  You need for me to take control.  To punish you.  To set you on a good path.  To show you how to be my good little girl."
     The bottom of her heart dropped out, and she felt herself skidding into that safe place where she was all his.  Where her only want and need was to be his and please him.  Where she submitted, knowing she didn’t want to be there, getting ready for a horrible spanking, but that she needed to be.  To cleanse away the guilt, to put their relationship back on the right path, to feel in his dominance that he fully had her.
     The plug crested, and her bottom sucked it in.  It was enormous, her bottom burned where it had stretched unusually wide to accept her punishment.  She panted through the sharp pain that always followed accepting such a large object until it subsided.  The Duke understood this need for a moment, and she was always thankful he allowed it.  The reality of the punishment started to sink in.  The plug wouldn't be coming out until he removed it.  At its size, she couldn't even remove it herself if she tried, she just couldn't yank on it at the right angle.
     "Very good.”  The Duke was part sadist, she loved and hated that about him.  He had told her several times that he loved watching her go through the pain for him, accepting it until it settled simply because he willed it of her.  “You look so beautiful with that pink gem winking at me."
     She buried her face in her hands.  He might like looking at her naked behind, but she didn't  want to have to picture it.
     "Get up on the bed, arch your back, bottom as high as you can put it.  You know the position."
     She did.  She put her knees on the edge of the bed, arched her back as low as she could, placed her knees shoulder width apart, and curved her bottom up, offering it as a sacrifice for her naughty deeds.  She stretched her hands in front of her as far as they would go and clasped them together, she would not be allowed to reach back, no matter how hard the spanking got.  She would not be allowed to move even a sliver until the Duke told her she was done.  She used to be able to use a pillow to cover her screams, but she was expected to be quiet on her own now.  She could do it, it was just hard.
     “Ask me for your spanking.”
     What?  They’d never done that.  She’d read about it, it was hot in theory, but not sitting there while waiting for her bottom to be roasted.  He couldn’t be serious.
     “EsMay, ask me for your spanking, or I’ll start with the dowel, and not stop until you ask.  That won’t even be part of the punishment you’ve earned.”
     Freak, why had she encouraged him to look up dominance and study it on his own?  “I can’t.”
     “You can, because I wish it of you, and you choose to do what I wish.  Now, ask me.”
     She swallowed down her pride, tears burning at the corners of her eyes as she was forced to submit her mind even further.  “May I please have my spanking now?”
     “Good girl.  Of course you can, I will always give you what you need, especially when you ask me so nicely.”  Why did those words make her feel even more owned?
     He placed a hand on her bottom.  "Now, why are we here?"
     This is the part she hated, maybe most of all.  It was embarrassing, even with her husband of over a decade.  Admitting how bad she’d been.  How she’d disobeyed a rule.  How she struggled with something she hadn’t heard most women struggle with, so she felt even more like a failure.  And in front of the Duke, the man she wanted to please more than anything, she felt the weight of his disapproval.  She’d failed him too.
     Smack.  "EsMay, I'm waiting.  Why are we here?"
     She huffed out a sigh.  "I was pleasing myself without you here.  But I wasn't really paying attention!"
     The Duke started wailing on her bottom. Punishment spankings never deserved a warmup.  She hadn’t seen him pick up the carpet beater, but it surely wasn’t his hand he was using.  Why had she made the stupid thing?  Nylon coated steel, it was like being beaten with a cast iron skillet, not that she had an accurate comparison, but in her mind, the two were exactly alike.
     "And that's been a problem for you a number of times, hasn't it?  Not paying enough attention and getting yourself into trouble."
     "Yes," she squeaked out.
     "And tell me, why has that been a problem for you?"
     She absorbed the pain from several strokes before she could speak.  "Because, because I've orgasmed before without realizing how close I was."
     "Without me."
     "Yes."  She wanted to cover her face, but kept her hands in place.  An empty gnawing feeling clawed away inside of her.  She was better than this, he deserved better than this.  She wasn’t this weak person who couldn’t control herself, was she?  She had people who looked up to her, who came to her for advice on their marriages, on their lives, what would they think of her if they knew about this struggle?  She’d be humiliated if they found out.
     "Your orgasms belong to me.  I cause them, I tell you when to have them, I demand them from you at times, I decide how many, how often.  Me.  Not you.  If you cannot behave yourself, I'll cut off all your DD and BDSM books until you learn that all your pleasures come from me."
     Ten swats came down with much more force before he spoke again.  "Is that who you want to be, a wife who drives a wedge between her and her husband because she can't be bothered to wait until her husband is around?"
     "No!"  Five more swats rained down with such force, she knew she would carry bruises for a week.  The Duke was her world.  She didn’t want to do anything to drive a wedge between them.  She knew that intimacy was bonding for them, and every time she did this, even without thinking, she was robbing them of a chance to bond together.  If she ever forgot, she had her husband there, to painstakingly remind her.  Just as he was doing right then.
     "If this happens again, you will lose your kindle for a week."
     He would do it too.  That might even be worse than the spanking.  Her kindle was her friend.  A door to other worlds where she could escape how overwhelming her own world was, even for just a few moments a day.  She'd go crazy without it.  What was worse, he knew it, and that was why he’d threatened it.
     "How are you doing?"  The spanking stopped for a minute while he rubbed her heated bottom.
     He always did this.  Made her take part in how long her spanking would go on.  He never ended it until he decided, but he'd also make her say the words that would make it go longer.  This humbled her even more, needing to be honest, knowing it was only going to make things worse for her.  "I'm still frustrated, and still feel really guilty."
     "Let's fix that."
     He spanked for several minutes.  She wanted to pull her bottom back, to curl it under so that the strokes didn't hurt so much, so that he’d stop hitting her soft sit spot, and stop smacking the same places over and over again.  She had a wide bottom, there were several other targets available to him if he’d just adjust his focus.  She couldn't bare another stoke, her bottom was so tender and sore, burning with an intensity that even a douse of cold water could no longer fix, but he wouldn't stop.  Each stroke of the wicked carpet beater felt like he’d taken a baseball bat to her, trying to tear her apart, leaving a fire that licked at her skin each time.
     She wanted to fly off the bed, do anything to make the spanking end, but he always demanded she hold her position perfectly, and she would only earn an additional punishment if she moved even an inch.  That thought alone made her keep her bottom curled up, submitting her mind to the fact that she’d earned this.  She’d broken his trust, she deserved every tortuous stroke he decided she needed.  She’d failed, and this was how they made it right.
     "That's enough, it's enough, oh please."  She couldn’t take anymore.
     “What’s enough?”
     “The spanking.  Please, I can’t take any more, it’s too much.  Please.  I’m so sorry.”
     He spanked harder.  She hadn’t meant to say sorry, but it had slipped out.  She was sorry, so incredibly sorry, but whenever he heard those words, he spanked harder.  Tears welled up and choked at her throat, her nose burning as she tried to hold them back.  She should have kept quiet, the spanking was going to kill her.
     "I decide when it's enough, not you."
     When he was done, fifty, a hundred, a million blistering swats later, she'd lost count, he threw the carpet beater to the bed.  "Get up."
     She wanted to fly off the bed, making sure he couldn’t take another swat at her, but it took several seconds as she fought the ache in her back from having arched for so long.  She kept her gaze down, not able to handle seeing what might be written on his face.
     "Into the corner."  He placed his hand on the small of her back, and firmly guided her into position.
     He lectured her again, repeating all he'd said in the spanking.  He grabbed the loopy from their collection, and gave her dozens of swats as he reminded her what he expected of.
     When he was done, he ran his fingernails over the welts the loopy had created.  She hated this.  It tickled, burned and severely annoyed her nerve endings all at the same time.  No matter how hard she tried, she could not stay still.  He knew this, she’d told him many times, and he chuckled.  Several names for him flitted through her mind, but she was not in any position to say them out loud.  Her bottom was done, she was not up to learning any more lessons that day.
     He stepped back and left her at least five minutes to think and clear her head while he sat on the bed behind her, watching, waiting, making sure she obeyed.  It made her feel like a child, naughty, exposed, chastised, loved, special, and needy.  She didn’t feel little often, but this was often a time that did it.
     Corner time was what they'd learned she needed.  He loved her, and she needed this undisturbed time to process, or she might never get the time later.  Her body wasn't for her own pleasure.  Sometimes the need just grew in her, and it seemed impossible to wait until he was around.  But she was going to do better.  She was... she could do this… "I don't know how to fight it."
     "Fight what?"
     "Feeling so needy, so horny, when you're not here."
     "Well, then, we need to come up with some ideas to help you, don't we?"  He came up behind her and placed both hands on her bare shoulders.
     "I would like that, Sir."
     He was quiet for a moment.  Saving her from herself was something he took very seriously.  Sometimes it was the quiet moments like this where his love shone the brightest.  This moment where he worked out a plan to help her because she was that important to him.
     “If I worked a job where you could call me at any time, I'd say to call me.  Since you can't, I want you to write it down.  If you're too busy to go into detail, write down the word tempted and leave it on my side of the bed.  If you have time, I want you to write out what you’re feeling, type it out if it’s easier.  Tell me what you’re thinking, and how you want to be a good girl for me.
     “Then I want you to get busy.  Chores, playing with baby girl, working on your novel, anything to get you off the bed, and not reading, or playing scenes in your head that will make you even more needy.
     "Come here."
     She obeyed, turned around and placed her hand into the one he held out for her.
     "Kneel."
     Her heart settled, calm spread through her.  This is what she needed.  A reminder that he was with her, had her, was stronger than her, and fully capable of tackling the troubles she struggled with on her own.  She sank to her knees, completely naked at his feet while he stood over her fully clothed.  She was fully exposed, and she could trust him.  He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she gathered strength from it.  This was when he showed she was forgiven.  This was her favourite part.
     “Thank me for spanking you.”
     She had to ask for her spanking, and thank him for it as well?  Who was this man?
     “Spanking you like this, it’s not only hard on you, it’s hard on me.  It’d rather give you softer spankings, spankings to help you relieve stress, or help you feel my control.  I want you to thank me for doing what you need.”
     When he put it like that, she had no choice.  He could have let this slide, but it would have challenged his rule over her, it would chip away at the foundation they were so desperately still trying to build.
     “Thank you for spanking me, Sir.”
     He nodded his pleasure, then grabbed her chin and held it firmly, but not enough to cause pain.
     "Who do you belong to, Little Girl?" His eyes bore into hers.  This was a lesson he apparently wanted her to learn to the core of who she was.
     "You."  Her chest constricted with longing and need.  It bubbled up, and threatened to drag her under.
     "Who owns this body?"  He placed his hand against the side of her head, and pulled her forward until her opposite cheek rested against his thigh.
     "You do."
     "Exactly.  If I find you touching what is mine without my permission again, this spanking will have felt like I spanked you with a feather.  Do you understand me?"
     "Yes, Sir."  Oh goodness, he would spank harder?  She'd never live through it.
     "Good Girl."
     He pulled her up into his strong arms, and just held her there, his chin on the top of her head.  She was home.  After a moment, he wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, sending her into a submissive freefall.
     “You’re going to wear that plug for an hour.  Afterwards, you’re going to be my good little girl.  You’re going to obey me.  I’m not going to take your kindle this time, but you won’t read any DD or BDSM books for the rest of the day.  Give your head a chance to clear.  If you find you’re tempted when reading tomorrow, you’re done for the day tomorrow too.  Do you understand me?
     “Yes, Sir.”  She snuggled in.  His orders making her feel cherished, wanted, valued.
     They stayed like that for several minutes while he massaged her hot cheeks.  And all too soon it was time to rejoin the world outside their bedroom door.  But he’d still have her, he always had her.

     He helped her dress, and gave her bottom a pat right where the plug sat, as they left the room.  The stinker.  She tamed the smile.  Everyone would think they had just been intimate if she didn’t calm down.  But hadn’t they been?  She felt just as much his, just as close to him, just as bonded, even more so, than any time they’d been intimate.  She stopped, turned around, hugged her husband in the hallway, and whispered in his ear.
     “Thank you.”