My wife, Kim, and I have been friends with Dawn and Steve for several years.  They are a fun couple and we try to get together at least once a month.  I thought we knew them fairly well, but our last get‑together showed a side of their marriage that we hadn't seen before.

Dawn is an extremely attractive blond, vivacious, intelligent, and with a bubbling personality.  Steve, on the other hand, is much more reserved and inclined to limit his conversation to topics he's comfortable with and knowledgeable about.  Both of them have an excellent sense of humor and Kim and I feel very comfortable with them in any setting.

Last Friday, we were invited over for dessert and then to play some cards afterwards.  Arriving around 7:30 p.m., we were treated to various deserts that Dawn had prepared and then Steve and I sat back and listened to the ladies chat on about twenty‑five different topics as we tried to suppress our boredom and disinterest.  Finally, after about forty‑five minutes of endless yapping, Steve interjected (maybe just a little too bluntly) and suggested that we play some cards.  I was surprised by the scowl that Dawn shot him in response to his suggestion, but passed it off as a minor consequence to ending a limited female discussion and moving on to an activity at least geared to a foursome.

We paired up by couples and as the ladies set up the card table, Steve and I fixed some drinks and made a couple of little jokes about the mindless chitchat that we'd had to endure.  Steve mumbled something about killing the pain as he fixed himself a double and plastered a smile on his face as we returned to the game table.

Dawn and Steve are excellent card players and normally Kim and I come out on the short side.  However, the card gods must have been looking down on us as we won hand after hand after hand.  Steve's frustration started to show and in an effort to gain his composure, journeyed to the liquor cabinet in between losses to fix himself a couple more drinks.  His continued imbibing must have upset Dawn, as she followed him to the bar and engaged him in some whispered debate.  As they returned, neither looked too happy.

The room became unusually quiet as we started the next hand.  Finally, Kim engaged Dawn in another female-oriented conversation as Steve and I continued to focus our attention on the game.  The hand was close and Dawn had a chance to clinch victory but selected the wrong card on the next to last play and Kim and I eked out another victory.

As Steve headed back to the bar, he mumbled (a little too loud), "If only you'd shut your mouth for a fuckin' minute and play cards, we wouldn't look like idiots." Dawn bolted out of her chair and again hushed dialogue was occurring between husband and wife.  However, this time animated gestures accompanied the unheard words that implied strongly Dawn's displeasure with Steve's actions and comments.

I don't know what Dawn's final words were, but upon hearing them, Steve immediately stopped talking, dropped his head and his facial expression turned from anger to embarrassed resignation.  With a quick glance at Kim and me, Steve turned and headed toward their bedroom. 

Dawn turned to us and stated, "I'm very sorry for this interruption.  I need to discuss a few things with Steve, so please forgive our absence.  Make yourselves a couple more drinks and there's plenty more food in the kitchen.  Just make yourselves at home and we'll be back in just a little bit.  Again, I apologize."

Needless to say, Kim and I were confused, amazed, and a little bewildered at the events that had just taken place.  We whispered our wonderment at what was being discussed between Dawn and Steve currently.  Kim commented that she was surprised that Steve had been so rude and abrupt the whole evening, as he was normally so polite and enjoyable.

I know I shouldn't have, but I tried my darnest to eavesdrop on the muffled commentary eliciting from their bedroom.  Unfortunately, I couldn't make out any of their conversation until I heard Steve shout, "Please, honey, no.  I'm sorry, I screwed up.  Please, Dawn, don't!"

Dawn's calmer voice was harder to distinguish, but I think I heard, "Tough.  You had your chance and blew it.  Now I don't want to hear another word out of you.  Do what you were told ‑ NOW!"

As I strained to hear more of their conversation, I was surprised to see Steve enter the room.  Without any comment, he walked passed us, picked up his chair from the card table and placed it in the middle of the room.  Then he moved to the side of the chair and with cheeks flushing, just stood there staring at the floor.

Dawn followed behind and after Steve had adjusted the setting of the chair, she seated herself and addressed Kim and me.

"Guys, I'm sorry that Steve has been so rude and belligerent this evening.  I thought we could have an enjoyable evening with friends that we always look forward to spending time with, but Steve's behavior tonight has been atrocious.  I wanted to provide Steve's discipline in private, but he continued to be a jerk, so now his correction will be public."

[Discipline???  Correction???  What the hell was she talking about?]

"Steven," Dawn commanded.  "Apologize to our friends and then tell them exactly what's going to happen."

Steve's head snapped up obediently and he began his oration, "Kim, Phil, I'm very sorry for my behavior tonight.  I don't know what got into me, but that doesn't excuse me from being verbally abusive to my wife or to friends that we cherish very much.  I hope that you will forgive me for my transgressions and because of my offensive behavior, Dawn will now discipline me."

"Not good enough, Stevie," chided Dawn.  "Tell them EXACTLY how you are going to be disciplined."

Steve's shoulders slumped and his eyes returned to staring at the floor.  In a sporadic, stuttering monotone he continued, "I'm... I'm going... uh, Dawn's... er, Dawn's going to... Dawn's going to give me a long, hard spanking on my... bare bottom."

I couldn't believe my ears.  Did he just say that he was going to get a spanking?  Worse yet, did he say that spanking was going to be on his `bare bottom'?

Confirmation of my rhetorical questions were answered as Dawn unsnapped and unzipped Steve's jeans and pulled them down to his ankles.  As my jaw dropped to the floor, she quickly grasped the waistband of his underwear and jerked them down a similar descending path.

I couldn't believe it.  Here was a half‑naked man standing directly in front of me, stripped of any dignity or male ego and about to be spanked like a little boy.  I glanced at Kim to see if she was as unbelieving as I, only to find her staring at the scene in front of her with a half‑suppressed smile on her face.

I was about to suggest that Kim and I should leave and let them finish their task in private, when Dawn looked at us and directed, "Please sit down.  I know Steve's embarrassed, but I think this is the only way he's going to learn to behave properly.  Again, I'm sorry that you have to witness this, but Steve brought it on himself.  I apologize again and thank you for your tolerance."

I guess it's like a car accident.  You know you shouldn't look, but there's no way you can avoid looking.  I wanted to leave, but something forced me to obey Dawn's request and I eased myself back into my seat.  Kim didn't seem to be in the same quandary and even seemed to be relishing the situation.

With no further discussion, Dawn grasped Steven's hand and pulled him across her thighs.  I'm assuming this was not the first time Steve had been in this traditional disciplinary position, as he voluntarily allowed himself to be adjusted so that his buttocks were placed jutting slightly skyward and definitely vulnerable to a manual attack.

Having only my experience as a child ‑ a couple of swats to my posterior, I was transfixed as Dawn started raining blow after blow on Steve's unprotected derriere.  The room was filled with the echoing smacks as flesh impacted flesh.  Each time Dawn's hand landed upon Steve's bottom the flesh indented and Steve's body jerked with the recognition of pain.  Time after time, Dawn raised her hand and quickly brought it down, snapping her wrist just prior to contact.

I was amazed at how quickly Steve's bottom cheeks turned from creamy white to a definitive pinkness.  Each time Dawn withdrew her hand after firmly planting a solid spank, a noticeable handprint appeared in the coloration.  I'm not sure whether it was disbelief or respect for his stoicism, but I was intrigued by Steve's resignation to his fate and lack of attempts to avoid the stinging application of Dawn's palm to his bottom.

Having anticipated only about ten or twenty spanks, I was astonished as first one minute, then two, then three passed without a pause in Dawn's cadence.  As her hand rose and fell, I couldn't envision how Steve could maintain his silence.  I also have to admit I was fascinated by Dawn's resolve to convey to Steve's hindquarters a message of needed behavior improvement.  Her continued conveyance earned my admiration for determined correction.

I hate to admit it, but I was almost disappointed when Dawn terminated the steady staccato upon Steve's backside.  I had assumed she would continue until she was able to invoke a substantial verbal response. 

As Steve lay there with only minimal guttural utterances, Dawn rested her hand on his bottom and looking at us, requested, "I had intended to spank Steve for quite a while longer.  However, since his behavior not only was offensive to me but also to our guests, I would request that you help me in applying his appropriate discipline."

Caught off guard, I sputtered a quick declination and assumed that Kim would also.  Surprise was an understatement as she quickly bound forward and enthusiastically offered her assistance.  Dawn ordered Steve to rise and then allowed Kim to assume her prior position.  With minimal delay, Kim grabbed Steve's hand and jerked him across her thighs.  My little, quiet wife was transforming into a determined disciplinarian.

While Dawn's admonition had been firm but controlled, Kim's tone was much more commanding and emotional, "Steve, you had no right to be so hateful and spiteful to your wife tonight.  Normally you seem so well-behaved that I'm surprised at your behavior tonight.  Since you saw fit to display such abhorrent behavior in front of me, I'm more than willing to help Dawn administer your punishment.  Perhaps my hand applied continuously to your bare bottom will send you a message that such conduct is totally inappropriate and will not be tolerated by either of us.  In fact, if you were my husband, you'd be spending every night for a week in the same position getting your fanny blistered 'til you couldn't sit down."

If I was astonished by the verbal lashing my wife was administering to Steve, her actions shocked me even more.  Her little petite hand rose and slammed unmercifully into both denuded gluteal muscles, flattening the flesh and eliciting a horrendous SMACK that echoed throughout the room.  With blinding speed, her hand rose and fell striking one cheek, then the other, then both.  Just when I thought she had established a pattern, she concentrated on one cheek, inflicting a multitude of blows before repeating the process on the other.  Becoming oblivious to everything else, I assumed her current goal was to see if she could start a fire on Steve's bottom.  Time after time her hand jackknifed into his quivering flesh.  Pink became red, which eventually turned to crimson.

Kim's actions apparently were not being ignored by Steve.  His body started to twitch and jerk on each impact.  Quiet moans were replaced by hisses and signs of anguish on his face.  Just when I thought he was going to cry out, Kim terminated her torment and rested her hand on Steve's inflamed derriere.  Turning to Dawn she questioned, "Dawn, my hand must be more sensitive than yours as it's starting to sting quite a bit.  I don't think Steve's learned his lesson yet.  So, with your permission, would you be so kind as to bring me one of those paddles on the ping pong table over there?"

Dawn quickly retrieved the instrument requested and immediately upon its receipt, Kim returned to the task at hand.  The SPLAT that resulted from its first application startled me and seemed to entice Kim.  If Kim's hand had conveyed some pain messages to Steve's bottom, the impact of that paddle tripled the sensation.  It wasn't long before Steve was pleading with Kim to stop, promising unequaled perfect future behavior and conveying with believable honesty the pain that he was having to endure.

Kim was unswayed and continued applying with fierce determination that wooden tool of torture to now bruising buttocks.  Finally, with one tremendous POP, she brought the proceedings to a halt.  Steve was allowed to rise and on unsteady legs, mumbled a brief apology to all and gratefully acknowledged his appreciation for Kim and Dawn caring enough to discipline him when he deserved it.

To say I was flabbergasted would be an understatement.  Here was a half‑naked male adult, who had just had his butt blistered by two females, not only apologizing but also thanking the ladies for spanking him.  Where was his male pride?

I would have figured that the previous activities would have ended the evening for us.  But after Steve had time to compose himself, we continued the card game (with Steve standing throughout) and everyone talked and joked as if nothing had happened.  I will admit that Steve was on his best behavior the rest of the night.

Finally, the night drew to a close and Kim and I thanked our hosts for a `pleasant?' evening.  As we were leaving and I walked past Dawn, she gently patted my bottom and remarked, "Phil, I hope you're a good boy for Kim.  I'd hate to have to help her improve your behavior."

Yeah, right.