In my house there are four words my wife never wants to hear. They can be in any sequence, but are usually in this order: "PRESENT", "DISPLAY", "LAP" and "CORNERTIME" Let me give you an example. My wife, who is 41, with long slim legs, and a perky backside, is a manager at a Fortune 500 company. One evening last week she was in the kitchen preparing dinner. I was reviewing the bills at my desk, when I noticed an unusually large charge bill on our credit card. It could mean only one thing; Elizabeth had exceeded her allowance and decided to charge her expenses on our joint credit card.
"Elizabeth PRESENT!" I raised my voice slightly so she could hear me, and looked at my watch. She had exactly two minutes. I could hear her scrambling to make sure she got upstairs to my den within the allotted time. She rounded the corner with thirty seconds to spare and stood at attention in the center of the room. I continued working at my desk ignoring her. She immediately reached down to the hem of her short blue skirt. Slowly, she lifted her skirt until her under things were completely on display. The rule is she must be wherever I am located standing at attention with her panties fully on display. Pantyhose are not allowed, and her panties must be either white cotton full cut or cartoon character with reinforced elastic around the waistband.
There are other rules: dresses or short skirts are required to be worn at all times, unless I grant permission otherwise. Knee highs, garter belt or no stockings are acceptable. On some occasions, as part of the punishment, a tight panty girdle may be worn, or possibly a little girls outfit. In this case, Elizabeth had just arrived home from work and was wearing a blue short skirt and a tight white blouse buttoned down the front. Her panties were white cotton. They fitted her snugly, around her nicely formed backside. You could see her bottom cheeks just peeking out.
I made her stand on display for a full 20 minutes, her heels together, eyes straight ahead, and her skirt bunched above her hips. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights, as I walked over to her. At this point she had no idea what was wrong. I circled her. She stood like a statue. Reaching I snapped the tight elastic of her panties; she clenched her buttocks, as the elastic snapped against her waist. SWAT! SWAT! Two full force spanks landed on each cheek.
"DO NOT clench your cheeks, Missy."
She immediately knew what to do, as she turned her toes towards each other standing pigeon-toed. I had taught her that as an acceptable way to stop from clenching her fanny cheeks. I snapped the tight elastic of her under panties again. This time Elizabeth did not move a muscle, as her buttocks stayed completely relaxed.
Circling her, getting closer and closer, until finally I was directly in front of her no more than 12 inches from her face. Elizabeth was totally intimidated. I could feel her legs shaking and could see goose bumps forming on her arms. She still had not uttered a word; her hands shook as she held her skirt above her hips, panties fully displayed.
I then commanded in a low firm voice "Elizabeth DISPLAY!"
Immediately she tucked her skirt front and back into the waistband of her short skirt and starting running for her spanking stool, she had three minutes to find it and return to this room.
The spanking stool was a bright red kitchen stool without a back. It was usually in the kitchen, but could be anywhere in the house depending on her last punishment. In this case it was in our bedroom down the hall. Elizabeth arrived back in the room in plenty of time, grasping the chair in two hands. The chair had two other features it was about 5 inches higher than an ordinary chair and had a hairbrush, also bright red, clipped to the leg. On the top of the chair was embroidery, made by Elizabeth, which stated "THIS IS ELIZABETH'S SPANKING STOOL" in white letters. The seat of the stool was extra wide.
