**Please note this is a consenting domestic discipline dynamic between a husband and wife who practice consensual non-consent. There is no sexual content in this story. The honorific used in this here is 'Sir'**
It was dark and rainy, the roads were slick and reflective. Wrex knew I hated driving my car in the rain, it was low to the ground and didn't handle wet roads well.
"Take the SUV, I'll drive your car home."
"Thank you," I didn't hesitate.
He tugged me in for a kiss. "Drive safe."
"You, too."
I pulled out of the parking lot and my phone rang. It was him.
"Hey did I forget something?"
"You drove here on E!?"
Shit. He hated when I did that. But I happened to know for a fact that I had another 30 miles left in the tank.
"It's fine, I was going to get gas on my way home. I can do it when I get back."
"It's not fine, how many times have I told you not to drive on E?"
"It's not even all the way on E yet, it still has two bars!"
He paused for a moment before calmly saying "I'm going to the gas station. We will discuss this further when I get home." He hung up.
Fuck. I turned the music up and tried not to think about that discussion, but my thoughts kept pulling me back. This one definitely wasn't going to be fun.
I got home and sat in the car for a bit, catching up on socials. I lost track of time and I heard him pull up next to me. I looked over and smiled shyly, but he only returned a stern look. I swallowed hard and considered sleeping in the car tonight. But he had a spare key. I reluctantly made my way inside.
He didn't say anything. He took everything in stride, hanging the keys, petting the dog, draping his jacket over a stack of boxes.
I scanned the cluttered room, our things packed and ready to be moved. The jar of punishment rice was sitting on the table waiting to be packed. It hadn't been yet 'just in case,' he said. In fact, none of our toys had been packed yet. The cane waited in the other room. So did the heavy oak paddle. Somehow, both the cane and paddle were better than rice. I darted my eyes away from the jar, hoping he wouldn't notice.
"Thank you for getting gas," I said sweetly, an attempt to soften him.
That look again. I squirmed under his gaze alone.
"Let's get this over with. Bedroom. Pants off."
I let out a secret sigh of relief as I walked past the jar of rice into the bedroom. But that relief didn't last long as I realized it was either bare cold swats with the paddle or cane. Plus the fact that my traitor of a cunt was about to get off on it, and there's no way in hell that he was going to let me come tonight.
Uggghhh. I was suddenly angry. Why was I even being punished for this? I know I agreed to certain rules but this one didn't seem fair. I knew that car and how long I could drive it on E. He was being overdramatic. I peeled off my jeans, but left my panties on.
He walked in and went to the drawer that kept our implements, pulling out the heavy oak paddle that had holes drilled in it and metal ball bearings. I winced. There was a limit to my masochist enjoyment with this paddle. When applied with enough force, and without warmup, it was very hard to take. I knew he was about to push my limits with it, as we agreed on when it came to punishment spankings.
"That's cute," he said as he slid my panties down, letting them fall around my ankles. It was worth a shot.
I felt the smooth wood tap against my bare skin. His hand on the small of my back.
"Why are you being punished?"