Yesterday I got careless with a plate, leaving it on top of my books after lunch while I worked at my desk. Of course it slipped off and fell to the floor in what seemed like slow motion while I helplessly cursed, knowing it would shatter on the hardwood floor. I was mad at myself because it was a nice salmon-colored sandwich plate, one of a set of four that I've had for years.
So, I threw the broken pieces into the kitchen waste basket and wondered if my wife would notice, and what she'd say if she did.
When I came home from a bike ride, a much deserved break from work, she was home. I was pretty sweaty so I just kissed her and headed for the shower. Since we missed a day making love, I decided to be ready in case I "got lucky." That means getting out my disposable enema, which I wash and reuse several time, and washing myself inside before I scrubbed up in the hot shower.
Once out of the shower I stepped to the bedroom to finish toweling off. Suddenly my wife appeared at the door. "What happened to the plate?"
She had a mock stern tone to her voice, which raised my hopes as to where this might go. "It fell. I had it on my books and it slipped and broke."
"Hmm," she said, impatiently. "You shouldn't have done that. That was careless. You were a really bad boy."
Yes! The game was on. Usually she's on the receiving end, being "punished" for some small mistake. She broke a small delicate vase, a wedding gift once, and paid the price. She says that I'm always looking for some pretext to spank her. Well, I am, but only on a very few occasions have I given her more than a couple halfhearted slaps on the bottom before proceeding to pleasure her. And though she gets really nervous, shouting out before my hand comes down, it always sets her up for the best of times.
But half the reason I do it is because I want her to turn the tables on me. And now it was happening. "You need to be punished. Put that towel down and bend over the bed." I did as I was told. "I hope this teaches you." And with that she slapped my bare bottom hard with her open hand. It was just hard enough to hurt. Three in quick succession--slap, slap, slap. My cock, which had started to rise as soon as all this began, was already hard as a rock.
"Are you going to be a good boy? Are you going to do as you're told?"
I didn't want it to stop so soon. "No!" I replied. "I'll do whatever I want!"
So she slapped my ass several times more, saying "bad boy!" with each blow. I loved it. I WAS that bad boy, being spanked on his bare bottom for his transgressions. A few more spanks though, and I was whimpering a little bit. For show, really, because it was fun, but that was about enough.
"Are you going to behave yourself?"