I have a picture

pinned to my wall.

An image of you and of me and we're laughing,

we're loving it all.

I love my husband. We've been married for ten years, and in that time I've come to trust him more totally than I ever imagined I could trust another person. We are each other's yin and yang - I am submissive and he is dominant, I like being spanked and he likes spanking me. Naturally, he is the leader of our household. I have a bit of a willful streak, and he has made it his mission to help me stick to the straight and narrow. But he has a bit of a quandary - how do you use spanking to discipline someone who enjoys spanking?

Well... he found a way.

It started a few years ago. I asked him if I could buy a pair of earrings that I wanted, and he said we couldn't afford them, so I got pouty. Looking back, I have to admit he was right, but I was stubborn, and he whispered in my ear that he would "deal with my attitude" when we got home.

I figured that would mean a spanking. Spankings usually start with him standing in the middle of the living room with me in front of him, and him ordering me out of my clothes. Of course, I've been nude in front of my husband many times, like most wives, but it's far more comfortable to be so in our bedroom suite. It makes me far more nervous to be ordered out of my clothes in our living room. When I'm done, he'll gather up my shedded garments and take them to the laundry basket in the garage while I watch. I feel in those moments like I am losing any hope of modesty. On his way back, he grabs a kitchen chair, sets it in front of me, drags me over to his right side and down over his knee and immediately starts a fast cadence of sharp spanks, alternating cheeks, setting them both alight simultaneously. Usually he spanks long and hard enough to get the crying started, then stands me up and ushers me over to the corner where he watches me to make sure I stay in place and don't rub my sore bottom.

But this particular time, once I was in the corner, he did something different. I heard his footsteps retreat into the distance of our house, and then return. There was silence for a moment, and then the room was filled with a flash of light and I heard the distinct click of a camera shutter. My eyes got wide in shock and I turned around. He had his DSLR camera in his hand and a stern visage on his face. He said, "I didn't say you could turn around, but since you have, put your hands behind your head."

I did so practically in slow motion. When they were there I watched in horror as he raised the camera back up to his eyes like a weapon and the flash filled the room again. I could feel the tears return to my eyes. He stepped closer and took a close-up of my face - now nearly as red as my bottom. Then he had me turn around and resume my corner time. Thankfully there were no more pictures.

After he released me from my corner time, he took me into his arms for a forgiving hug and told me I was his good girl again. I looked into his eyes and asked him why he took the pictures. He replied, "We'll talk about that later." Having been freshly spanked, I didn't press.

The next day, he sat me down at the kitchen table and showed me an old fashioned photo album. Inside, on the first page, were the three photos he had taken. The one of the back view framed my red bottom from just above the crack to about a quarter of the way down my thighs. To my great embarrassment, the angle revealed my most private parts hiding between my very red cheeks. The front view went from the top of my head down my front to just below my crotch, revealing my pubic notch, which had no hair to hide behind. Along with that a closeup of my embarrassed face, my eyes closed and fresh tear tracks running down pink cheeks.

Ever since that day, every time I have had a punishment spanking, he adds another page to what I have dubbed my "punishment album." He keeps it in our bookshelf. Nobody who visits has any idea what it is, but everyone sees it. I see it too, of course, and know its significance. It serves as a reminder to be on my best behavior.

He has never taken the album off the shelf - certainly never shown it to anybody else.

I have to admit, though, that I have taken it down and leafed through it from time to time. And as embarrassing as it is in the moment... thinking about it and seeing the pictures... well... It gives me a little thrill that I barely dare acknowledge even to myself.