At some point I will backtrack and explain more about myself and my, ah, delicate situation but today I have a throbbing need to give you some advice.
1. Never lie to your spouse when you pretty sure she knows the answer.
2. Don't fall prey to her charms when she is wheedling you into trouble.
3. Always, this is IMPORTANT, wear underwear even if it is dirty on laundry day!!
*sigh*
I am not good at keeping up with my chores or responsibilities: this is evident in the relationship I have enjoyed with my wife for the past five years. She is boss, goddess, mistress, whatever you want to call it. She leads, I follow; she orders, I obey; I disobey, she makes me very, very sorry. Like I said, I will go into the particulars later but want to continue my sad tail or tale.
I had let my laundry go for way too long and Jenny had given me the look.
I swear women are born with it and it just matures and gains strength with every year. It is the look that makes little boys bowels turn to water and bigger boys mouths to go dry and their bottoms twitch. I was counting myself fortunate I only got the look and not a spanking. It wouldn't have surprised me but she was being nice and letting me fix it before there were tears. She doesn't abuse me. She loves me and lovingly corrects me. I have learned a lot from her and am not quite the stupid cave creature I had been when we were first wed.
Sooo...still feeling the affects of the look. I sprang out of bed and got ready to do my laundry. Sheesh, there were at least five loads to do...it would take all day but that's okay! It was my fault for letting it go so long. It was at this point of the morning I made my first fatal mistake; I decided to not wear underwear so it also could get washed. I had pants on, for heaven's sake, so I really didn't see what the big deal is but I am getting ahead of myself.
She cooked me a lovely breakfast, kissed me smartly on the mouth, allowed herself to be generally groped and fondled up her sexy faux-tennis skirt before finally slapping my hand firmly away and smiling wickedly out the door as she flounced enough to give me ample view of her London derriere. She was on her way to do some shopping. If I had been a good boy and had my laundry done then I could have gone with her and had lunch. She promised to bring something back. She was having lunch with her sister, Heather, who was every bit as hot as Jenny but five years younger...just 18.
I put my dishes away, cleaned up the kitchen, and started the first load of laundry. I then proceeded to do some of my daily chores like the unloading/loading the dishwasher, wiping down the bathroom, and some dusting. I had to also straighten up around my side of the bed, put away my first load of laundry and some other things to do so I lost track of time. I was moving the second load of laundry into the dryer and starting the third load when Jenny and Heather came through the garage door. Heather was wearing a matching outfit and her legs and ass were every bit as nice as Jenny's but I made no move to notice them. I'd learned that lesson a year ago...another story...Jenny was carrying take-out from our favorite Mexican Food place. My mouth started to salivate.
She had stopped to look at me. I swear women can smell guilt on a man from fifty yards away. This was a different kind of look. I actually hate this one much more than the first kind. This is the look a woman/mother gives you when she is pretty sure you are barely two seconds from landing over her lap but isn't quite sure...yet.
My defenses went up, my bowels did a dance, and Heather was smirking over her shoulder. She would love to see me get it. She was taking lessons from Heather on how to raise her husband when she got one. I'm not kidding. She really IS taking lessons and I am the unfortunate visual aide. I despise every third Tuesday night.
Jenny asked, "Honey, are you wearing underwear?"
It was a question dipped in honey but burned my backside already. You see, we had had this conversation a couple of months ago when she had found out from my blabby mouth I had done my laundry sans underwear. She had been horrified. I had been sternly lectured, tweaked ear and all, about it not being proper and it was disgusting and it was to never, ever happen again. I now remembered what her last comment had been. "If I ever catch you doing this again it will be the otk switch." Now for you lucky few who don't know, otk means over the knee which was how all my punishments were received. We both enjoyed the intimacy and, well, maternal quality of getting spanked, paddled, switched over her lap. See? That is what I mean by upside down. I know the pattern of the carpet by our couch intimately. I had promised squeakily and faithfully to never do it again...but now I had.
"Honey?" She queried again...the look had now been accompanied by the crossed arms and tapping fingers. My seconds to remain upright and unsobbing where dwindling fast unless I did something quick.
I couldn't help it. I know, knew, and really know now better than to every lie to her but the factors of it being the "switch," an implement that is a short, looped whipping cane, scared me to death and Heather was here. She'd seen me cry and beg forgiveness...remember the lessons? But the "switch" made me come unglued. It frightened me like no other implement...not even the hairbrush. Jenny knows it and only uses it when I have been a really dumb, bad boy and need a final solution to my problem with being naughty. All this flashed through my brain as I smiled and found myself saying, "Of course, I am, Jen. What kind of question is that?"
Her eyes flashed. "You know what kind and you know why."
She smiled and oozed towards me with arms stretch and purred, "But I am sorry to embarrass you in front of Heather like that." I melted into her arms as she kissed me deeply. So deeply that I failed to notice what her hands were doing as she fondled down my back to my backside and SMACK!
"Damn it, Jesse! You LIED to me." She had felt me out and knew there was no underwear. Her eyes smoldered. She hated to be lied to and made it a very unpleasant experience for me when I had in the past.
My face flushed. I was so dead...and with a sexy audience even who didn't bother to stiffle giggles at very embarrassing parts of my past punishments. I lowered my eyes. "I'm so sorry, Jen. It's just..." I stammered "...the 'switch' frightens me...Heather is here...it just came out." I swallowed and said "the phrase." The one we had agreed on when I admitted pure guilt and verbally placed myself at her mercy. It came out as a dry whisper as I had no saliva in my mouth now. "I've been a naughty boy. Please, punish me. I..." I licked my lips... "I deserve whatever you choose to do." I HATED that last part.
I didn't even look up but stared at the floor waiting to hear my sentencing. It didn't help hearing Heather softly giggle at my shame.
My mind raced with the possibilities. I knew a soaped mouth was somewhere in it. It had only been the dire circumstances that let me lie without tasting the soap before I even started the words. It always stops me before I even begin to lie in normal situations. The "switch" was a forgone conclusion...and I knew better than to ask for the mercy of having Heather go home before it happened. Jen would figure the added humiliation was spice to the pudding of my punishment.
...to be continued.
