As the Chrysler Town and Country gently glided down the hill towards the cul-de-sac, its driver pressed the button to open the garage door.  She observed the door starting to open, but just then, she also took notice of the Dodge Durango sitting on the side of the driveway. She smiled, glad to see that her husband was actually home early from work, for a change.  

Gathering up the three sacks of groceries, she went inside to find him tinkering on the computer.  “You’re home early!” she said and kissed him as he gathered her to him in a warm embrace.

“I was able to finish up early today,” he explained, “and I thought we could spend a nice evening together.”

“Sounds great!” she replied.  “Would you mind getting the mail while I put these groceries away?”

“Sure.”

He walked out to the mailbox and retrieved the seven or eight pieces of mail that were sitting in the box.  As he walked back towards the house, he began thumbing through them and filing them mentally. The first one was a political advertisement for a candidate who had already lost in the primary two days ago.  If the campaign hadn’t ensured timely delivery, it was no wonder their guy lost. Junk. The second one was a postcard inviting him to an “investment workshop.” Junk.

The third piece of mail made caused him to stop walking, though.  It was an envelope from his insurance company, with the words “Important Time-Sensitive Material Inside” stencilled in red on the envelope.  This can’t be good, he thought, as he opened it.

His prediction was correct.  It was a notice saying that their monthly vehicle insurance premium was going up by $208 every six months.  He scanned down the letter looking for the reason for the premium hike. At the bottom of the page, it said, “Moving Violation / Speed in Excess of 85 mph” and listed his wife’s name next to it.

He placed the letter back in the envelope and took a moment to collect himself.  Then he stepped inside.

“Ellen, this is from the insurance company,” he began.

She looked at him quizzically.  She hadn’t yet made the connection.

“It says our rates are going up,” he continued, “because of a speeding ticket you got several months ago.”

She turned away in embarrassment, now fully remembering the incident last spring.  She had been on the highway and had been lost in thought when suddenly she noticed the lights on the top of the patrol car behind her flashing in her rearview mirror.  The officer had been professionally courteous towards her, and she had also remained polite, as expected, but when it was over she still had a ticket. She had, foolishly - she now realized, paid the ticket on her own without telling her husband, thinking that would be the end of it.  But here it was again, rearing its ugly head.

“You never told me you got a speeding ticket, Ellen,” he continued.

“I didn’t...I didn’t think...I didn’t....” she stammered.

“You didn’t think what, Ellen?” 

She was about to jump out of her skin.  How he could remain so calm at times like this was a complete mystery to her.  

“I didn’t think I needed to tell you,” she said.

“I think you know better than that,” he replied, tilting his head slightly to the left.  “I think you were deliberately trying to conceal this from me so I wouldn’t know. Am I right?”

She was visibly deflated.  She looked at the ground for a long time.  Then she nodded, ever so slightly, as if the size of the nod somehow deemphasized the guilt she was feeling as it flooded across her.

“So, you drove unsafely enough to get a ticket, and you lied,” he accused.

“I didn’t lie,” she said.

“You lied by omission,” he corrected her.  “You deliberately concealed it, and that’s a lie, isn’t it?”

She nodded again.

“I think we need to go upstairs.”

She nodded a third time, but didn’t say another word.  He waited for her to walk past him and over to the staircase.  As she passed him, he began to follow her. Both of them were already acutely aware that the punishment had already begun. As she began the climb up the staircase, she felt the familiar churns in her stomach.  They weren’t just nervous pangs...she was getting turned on as well. He knew just how to push her buttons, even when she was being “punished,” and she knew he knew. She dreaded it and loved it simultaneously.

At the top of the stairs, she began the long walk down the hall to the bedroom, feeling not unlike a prisoner on his final march to the execution chamber.  He followed her in and shut the door.  

He pointed to the corner. “I want you in that corner in nothing but panties in one minute, Ellen.”  She hesitated for a moment, but knew that anything other than total compliance was pointless. She pulled her blouse over her head and tossed it aside.  Then she reached around and undid the clasp on her bra, shrugging it off as it fell to the floor. She could feel him staring at her, and while she usually enjoyed being the subject of his study, right now it just felt overwhelmingly humiliating.

She looked at him pleadingly, silently begging for a reprieve, but he would have none of it.  She took a deep breath, then exhaled as she unbuttoned her jeans. She unzipped them and pulled them down, stepping out of them after kicking her shoes off.

Now, only in a pair of panties, she marched over to the corner.  She couldn’t see him while she was facing her corner, but she could hear, and she had done this often enough to know exactly what was occurring.  He gathered up all of the pillows and piled them on the bottom edge of the bed. She heard the floor creak as he walked into the closet. She didn’t have to hear anything to know that he was retrieving the paddle that he had hung in their walk-in closet on the wall.

“Come over to the bed now, Ellen,” he said simply.

She turned and saw everything as she expected, but it still sent a wave of anticipation through her when she saw the stack of pillows and the paddle where he had placed it on the bedside table.  Though she knew she was being punished she couldn’t help but notice she was getting wet between her legs. She couldn’t help it. It was also a complete turn-on.

She walked over to the edge of the bed and without assistance, bent over the stack of pillows and spread her legs apart.  Almost immediately, her spanking began. There was no need for words. Everything that needed to be said had already been said, and the time for contrition was at hand.  The first blow struck, and though it was only with his hand, it was delivered with an incredible sting that once again reminded her that while it was a turn-on, she was still being punished, and somewhere in her mind, she reasoned that it would be better to get the “good girl spanking” over his lap than it would be to get punishment spankings on a regular basis.

His hand struck her a second time, this time on the opposite cheek from the one that had borne the brunt of the first one.  It stung even more than first one, but she stood her ground. She knew she had to feel the painful sting.

By the time he had swatted her a dozen times, she quite forgot the humiliation of her near nakedness, and was focused solely on the sting of the swats.  He had spanked her cheeks and her upper thighs, which seemed to have direct lines to those butterflies in her stomach. He paused for a few seconds, as if allowing her to reassess the fact that she was a naughty girl over his knee getting the spanking she deserved, and try as she might, she could not avoid refocusing on the humiliation of it. 

He tugged at the elastic band in the last piece of clothing she had on, exposing her bare arse.  The cool air should have been a minor relief, but it only announced that her punishment was about to continue.  She wondered what he thought when she was over his lap wearing nothing at all. Was he turned on? She didn’t need to wonder.  In the brief pause before he continued, she could feel his dick pressing against his pants and against her.

Before she could process any feelings of delight about this, her spanking began again as abruptly as it had stopped a few moments ago.  She was truly sorry that she hadn’t told him about the ticket. She was truly sorry that it had resulted in the insurance premiums going up.  The sting on her backside, the humiliation of having to be spanked like a naughty little girl, and the actual remorse she felt all came together and formed a tear in her eye, which ran down her cheek as he continued spanking her in earnest.

As she regained her composure, as much as one can regain one’s composure in such a situation, she realized that she was getting where she wanted to be in the spanking.  The sting was becoming less and less painful and the numbing and tingling began to set in with each slap. She was really starting to get wet, but suddenly he stopped.

“I think that’s enough,” he said. “I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he said as he helped her up.

This couldn’t be happening.  Her favorite part was just beginning, and here he was trying to stop it!  What was he doing? What was the point of enduring all that agony just to have it end when the ecstasy began? 

“Y-y-you still haven’t used the p-paddle,” she stammered.

“I thought I’d give you a reprieve.  You look like you’ve learned your lesson,” he replied.

She made no attempt to acknowledge his last statement.  She looked at the ground, contemplating whether or not to say anything, knowing that her pout already said more than she needed to.

“You think you still need more?” he asked her.

Slowly she nodded, and without even waiting for him to agree, she reached over and grabbed the paddle and offered it to him.  As he took it, she quickly returned to her position over the pillows, but not before she intentionally brushed up against his dick, which was strained against his pants.  As she adjusted herself, she spread her legs a bit farther than she had earlier.

He could barely contain himself, but he placed the paddle in his right hand and brought it down with a firm smack.  “Ow!” she heard her yelp escape her lips. The first stroke with the paddle was always delivered with an intensity that surprised her, even though she was anticipating it.  But by the third or fourth stroke, it was all tingle. She felt a wave of pleasure course through her as additional contact by the paddle with her arse and upper thighs resulted in mostly just more numbing tingling.

When at last he stopped, she turned around and saw that he was still hard.  And she was ready for him. She undid his pants, unzipped the zipper and pulled down his pants and briefs, unleashing his dick.  She took it in her hands for a moment, then took it in her mouth for another, and then pulled away. Standing up, she motioned for him to lie down on the bed, then she mounted him and rode him like an expert rodeo cowgirl, making both of them moan as they came.

After a moment, she slid off him and down next to him, both of them catching their breath.

“I’m going to have to come up with something naughty to get punished for again soon,” she said.

He smiled and kissed her.  “I’ll spank you whenever you want, even if you’re not naughty,” he said.

“I know, but that was pretty hot,” she replied.  

He thought so, too.