First off, let me remind everyone that my wife is about 7 months pregnant. Everything is going well with the pregnancy, but lets be honest. Even though this is a happy and welcome pregnancy, this does not mean that there isn't a lot of stress and tension. I realize my wife is the one who is physically being affected by all this, but I think it is unfair to the fathers to completely dismiss the emotional strain a pregnancy puts on them. I know it is easy for a father to walk away and emotionally distance himself if we wanted to, but for a caring husband and responsible father, there is a lot of stress on us too. I am constantly worried about my wife's health and the health of our baby, finances, logistics, etc. And there is a frenzy of activity and planning, discussions about the birthing experience, breastfeeding, family leave, car seats, cribs, high chairs, finding a pediatrician, the list seems almost endless. And everyone has an opinion on what is right and they are not reluctant to share their opinions with us. I am telling you, given all this its no wonder the species can reproduce at all.
So that said, my wife and I had a fight. I am not going to discuss what started it, what it was about, who was right or who was wrong. In my opinion, we were both right and we were both wrong. First off, I never touched her. This was a shouting match only, but I did storm out of the house and drove away to cool off. I did not return until later that evening, having missed a Lamaze class that we were supposed to attend that evening. Having cooled off and calmed down, I figured I was ready to try to have a rational discussion with her and hopefully she had also calmed down and was ready to talk again.
When I entered the house, my mother was sitting on the couch. I was a bit surprised, but greeted her and asked her why she was here.
"Well, I got a call from your wife wanting to know if you were at my house. She was worried about you in spite of the fact that you were an insensitive jerk to her." She replied.
"Hey look. I am sorry we had a fight, but she was just as rude to me." I said defensively.
"Your wife is pregnant. You need to be a little more understanding."
"I know she is pregnant, but that does not give her the right to be unreasonable."
She shook her head in disappointment, "Look, when a woman is pregnant her hormones are out of whack. It can cause her to be more emotional. You can't react to her like you normally would. I know this pregnancy puts stress on you, but you need to be the voice of reason."
I think a part of me knew she was right, but I still thought the stress on me was being marginalized so I shot back, "Look, I get it, she's pregnant, but I don't think you understand how much stress is on me."
Without hesitation she replied, "OK, so your wife, who is suffering a chemical imbalance doesn't get a pass for being a bit moody, but you want a pass because you are stressed?"
"No, I didn't say she doesn't have an excuse. I am just saying that this is affecting me too."
"I understand. If the two of you just have a shouting match, but then went to separate rooms to calm down I think it all would have worked out. The problem is you left her, without word of where you were going or when you would be back. You did not answer you cell phone when we called. That is not the behavior of someone who just needed some fresh air or needed some time to calm down. That was the behavior of someone who wanted to make his wife worry and wanted to hurt her. You were gone for 3 hours without any word."
When my mother put it that way, I did start to feel a little embarrassed. "Where is she now?" I finally thought to ask.
"She went to the Lamaze class without you. Your father is filling in for you. I am glad she decided to call me. She was pretty upset when I spoke with her."
I started to feel a little guilty so I meekly replied, "well, thanks."
She saw that I was staring at my feet so she stood up, placed her hand under my chin and lifted it to force me to look into her eyes. It was a strange feeling, like I had when I was 12 years old, but still, I never would have anticipated what happened next.
"You know," she began, "I had encouraged your wife to take you over her knee when you acted like a child. I think it really helped your marriage and your wife had seen a lot of improvement in you."
I gulped, this was the first time I ever heard my mother acknowledge that she knew my wife spanked me and that it was her suggestion. It was a bit of a shock, even though my wife admitted this to me previously.
She continued, "of course, with her pregnant now, I don't think it would be a good idea for her to try to spank you anymore. But," she paused, "your behavior tonight was so selfish and childish I think you need a reminder that a spanking is not out of the question if you behave in such a childish manner ever again."
My heart began pounding in my chest as I contemplated how my mother would propose my wife should spank me again. It would probably not be over her knee. Perhaps it would be laying on the bed or over the sofa. I thought that perhaps her swing would not be as forceful as they have been in the past. Of course, I would not try to fight her. I wasn't happy, but I would be passive to insure that neither she or the baby got hurt. I presumed my mother was here to gain my assurance that I would not resist. How wrong I was.
My mother turned and walked towards a table in the corner of the room. It was then that I saw the hairbrush and she began to pick it up. my heart nearly leaped out of my chest as I began to suspect what was about to happen. I looked in horror as my mother approached me with the brush, but I dared not open my mouth in protest as I was unsure exactly what she had in mind.
She began, "Your wife and father will be home in about an hour. When they get here, you will be standing in the corner with your freshly spanked bottom on display. Your father and I will leave and you and your wife can discuss how to ensure something like this does not happen again. "
Well, there is was, she was proposing spanking me herself. That was not going to happen. It was one thing to submit to my wife, but I was an adult and there was no way she was going to spank me.
Rather than complain or whine, I began calmly and rationally to try to show I was in control. "Mother, I appreciate your concern, but I am not a child anymore. My wife and I will deal with this ourselves and I will respect her wishes in this matter."
She replied, "Her wishes in this matter are clear. If you were to come home before her, I was to spank you and put you in the corner. That is why she gave me the brush. I am glad you decided to finally come home. I will admit, we were unsure of what we would have done if you did not come home at all. At least as far as that goes you made the right decision."
Again, I tried not to get emotional or excited, "I understand mother, but like I said, I will discuss this with her when she gets home. This is between her and I and does not concern you."
She replied as calmly as me, "Well, it does concern me as she was the one who called me all upset. Your father and I came over here right away to minimize the damage you had done. If you wanted this to be between you and her, then you should have stayed here and worked it out instead of running away like a child and refusing to answer your phone. You made it my concern when you abandoned your wife."
She paused letting the words sink in. I struggled for an intelligent response and when none came she continued.
"Now," she started again, "you are going to get your naughty backside spanked by me and you will stand in the corner until your wife gets home. After that, I hope the two of you can work out the issues you are having."
My heart was pounding in my chest and my mouth was getting dry, but again I tried to maintain my composure and calmly tried to reassert myself, "Sorry mother, I am not going to be spanked by you. I am not baby anymore."
"Nonsense!", she replied a little more forceful, "you act like a child, you get treated like a child. That is the way it has always been. It's not like you haven't been spanked before. It's not like you haven't been spanked by ME before. Now come here and take your spanking and don't make this any worse for yourself." she said as she pointed to the spot in front of where she was sitting.
I was confused. This was very different from my wife threatening to spank me. I must admit, what normally forces me into compliance with my wife is the fact that I don't want to lose her. Now I love my mother, but I did not feel the same kind of threat from her that I did for my wife.
I swallowed hard, took a deep breath and again calmly asserted myself. "I appreciate your concern and willingness to help and I thank you for helping us out during our disagreement, but like I said, what happens next is between me and my wife."
I thought that would be the end of it. I was calm and adult like and had made my point. Whatever, had happened in the past with my wife spanking me was between my wife and I. Oh, of course I realize now that it was my mother who had persuaded her to do it, but still. My mother lost her authority to spank me when I became an adult. If my wife wanted to spank me when she got home, I would reluctantly accept that, but my mother was not going to spank me.
She stood up and I held my head up defiantly. She looked at me and I could see the disappointment in her eyes. She moved slowly towards me. I had a reflex to cringe and back away, but I forced myself to hold my ground. When she got to within a foot from me and did not see me backing down I figured that would be the end of it.
At first, she spoke softly, "I don't think you fully understand the position you are in. Your wife has given me the authority to spank you. Regardless of that fact, I am your mother and I will be your mother until the day I die. You are never too old to be spanked. If you act like a child you will be spanked like a child. You thought you were too old to be spanked when you were 12. You were wrong then and you are wrong now."
I hated my mother at that moment, bringing up the last time she spanked me. It made me feel like such a child. I cringed at the thought. I continued to stand my ground but as the realization that she was not backing down began to sink in, I realized I had two choices, fight or flight. She was right, she was my mother, fight was not an option, but flight was. I decided to just walk away and lock myself in the bathroom and wait for my wife to come home.
"I need to use the bathroom." I said calmly hoping she would not realize my intentions.
She grabbed my arm as I started to move, "I don't think so." she said sternly. She gripped my arm strongly and I was unsure what to do next.
You see, unlike when my wife was ordering me around, I felt I had nothing to lose with my mother. If I refused to submit, what would the consequences be? This was not like when I was 12. I really was a child at 12 and had no choice but to ultimately submit to my mother's authority, but I was an adult now. If I refused, it was not like with my wife where I was afraid she would leave me. I loved my mother and wanted to be respectful but in the end, she held no real authority over me.
Then almost as if she could read minds she said, "Look, you need to understand that I am acting with full support of your wife. She is in no condition to spank you herself. You have been spanked before when you needed it and while we were hoping you had finally matured, you need to understand that you will be spanked again now and in the future should you regress to your childish ways. Your wife is pregnant with your child. A child who will need a responsible and caring father, not some selfish, irresponsible man who acts like a child when things don't go his way. Your wife has told me you have made a lot of progress in the last few years but clearly there is still room for improvement. I know this is very difficult for you, but I am your mother. I suggest you take your spanking and be in the corner with your pants down when your wife comes home. Storming out of the house and leaving you pregnant wife here alone, wondering what was happening was very irresponsible. Accepting your spanking for that will go a long way to show your remorse for that and get your marriage back on track."
As the words started to sink in, my heart started to pound in my chest and I started to shiver slightly as I slowly began to think about what I had done. I looked at my mother and felt so ashamed at what I had did. Already tears filled my eyes as I realized the potential damage I could have done to my marriage.
Again, as if my mother could read minds she added, "You are now bringing a child into this world. You must be there for that child no matter what." she paused for effect, "Just like your father and I were always there for you." she paused again, "Just like I am here for you now."
I finally looked down at the floor genuinely ashamed for what I did when I saw her reach for my belt. I was broken, and I did not resist. I swallowed hard and perhaps in attempt to console myself I could not help but ask, "Mom, did you spank Dad like this?"
She had my belt unbuckled and was in the process of unbuttoning my jeans when she took a deep breath and paused as if contemplating her response. She looked me in the eye and said, "Don't feel bad about this, but no. Your father was very mature and responsible. I never had to spank him myself. But, if he acted the way you did, you bet I would have. I would like you to be the kind of man your father is. You must accept this spanking and learn from it."
As she unzipped my jeans I began reflecting on what she said about my dad. I guess I was hoping to learn that she spanked him too. I respected my father and saw him as a real man and a positive role model. If I had learned that my mother had spanked him like my wife had spanked me, it might have helped ease the feeling of humiliation I was experiencing. But that was not the case.
As my mother opened the front of my jeans and my white briefs came into view I grabbed the waistband of my jeans and stepped back from her saying, "I am sorry mother, I just can't let you do this." and I started to zip them back up again.
I thought that would be the end of it. I was going to ask her politely to leave and I was going to wait for my wife to come home and the two of us would settle this as a couple.
At first she spoke very calmly, "Your wife will be back in about 30 minutes. We don't have much time. For your own good and the good of your marriage I am going to bare your bottom, spank you and put you in the corner. Are you going to accept the consequences of your action like a penitent young man or do I need to drag you over my lap like a naughty little boy?"
I stood there, my jeans zipped up, but my belt still unbuckled. I was trembling, shaking and feeling a cold icy chill come over me. My stomach was turning over and it was an overall surreal experience. It was strange and weird, yet at the same time a familiar scene. In many ways I felt like I was 12 again but still adamant that at my age I should not be spanked by my mother. Hell I wasn't even sure my wife should be spanking me, but she had a hold on me very different than my mother. I simply did not know what to do and I stood frozen with indecision.
Then it happened. It happened so fast I am not even sure exactly what happened. My mother lunged for me. I felt a burning in my ear as she twisted it cruelly forcing me to bend at the waist. She let go and I felt her hands back at my jeans and they were quickly unzipped and she was tugging them down. I tried to pull away, but she already had them to my knees. As I stepped backwards I lost my balance and fell on the couch. She quickly had my jeans at my ankles and partially turned them inside out across my feet.
She let go of my jeans and I quickly pulled my knees to my chest and tried to protect myself as she approached. "Mom, stop it!" I yelled. cowering on the couch. She again reached for my ear and I yelped in pain as she again twisted it and she forced me up from the couch again to avoid the pain. I stood crouched over in front of her. She let go of my ear and when my hands instinctively went to my ear she took the opportunity to deliver three quick sharp smacks to my bare thigh.
I yelled out at the sting and again flopped back on the couch to escape. "Ow, Mom! That hurt!"
"Get up!" she shouted, as I started to hear the controlled anger in her voice. She was determined. I could clearly see that. I thought of making a run for the bathroom again, but my pants around my ankles made that impossible. "You are just making this worse for your self. Now stand up." She delivered three more smacks to the back of my thighs and I curled up on the couch.
"Mom, please stop!" She responded to my pleas with three more slaps. Tears started to flow down my eyes, not so much from the pain. The slaps stung, but they really didn't hurt that much. No, the tears were from a deep well of emotion made up of confusion, fear, humiliation and a feeling of inadequacy. What kind of man was I that found my self curled up on the couch, pants at my ankles begging my mom to stop hitting me?
"Mom, please don't spank me." I began through the tears. I felt her hand at my ear again, but I quickly got up to avoid the pain. She placed her hands on my underpants and I instinctively reach for her hands to stop her, but I did not pull away. 'Mom, please let me keep my underpants on." and with that plea she knew she had me. I was beginning to submit.
"Perhaps if you had obeyed me right away I might have considered it, but your childish behavior does not warrant any leniency." and with that she quickly pulled my briefs all the way down to my ankles. As she stared at my now bared body, she could not resist the temptation to further 'put me in my place' with a quick comment "You have nothing to hide. It is not like I have not see you like this before. With the exception that you have a little hair around it now, you don't look much different than when you were 12."
That hurt. How dare she belittle my genitals. What kind of mother would do that? But she had no sooner said it when I found myself falling across her knees. She clamped my legs with her leg and before I could even process what was happening the hairbrush came crashing down on my helpless backside.
It hurt. It hurt a lot! She was spanking me with all her strength. I was crying like I was 12 years old again. Of course some of that was from the pain, but most of the tears were from the overwhelming emotional confusion I was experiencing. I was an adult and my mother was spanking me like she did when I was 12. It was too much for me to process and I was an emotional wreck.
She spanked long and hard and I struggled and cried out and begged her to stop with every blow. She held me tight in place and I was surprised at how strong she was, even stronger than my wife. She continued to spank me until I found that I had lost all resistance and was reduced to a sobbing, crying mess before the spanking finally stopped.
I laid over her knees crying myself out and I was exhausted. I heard the door open and my wife and father came in. I shuddered at the thought at what I must look like as they came into the room.
I heard my wife's voice, "Well, it looks like he finally came home. He must have just gotten here if you just finished spanking him He is not in the corner yet."
"Well," my mother started, "it took a little convincing to get him over my knee. I have been letting him cry it out over my knee. Do you want him in the corner?"
"No," my wife replied, "when he is ready to face me he can get up."
I took a deep breath and tried to regain my composure. The sooner I faced my wife, the sooner the ordeal would be over. I choked out between sobs, "OK. I'm ready."
My mother unlocked my legs from hers and I felt her arm guiding me up off my lap. I wanted to reach for my pants and briefs, but instinctively knew I should leave them at my ankles until I received specific permission to pull them up.
As I stood and faced my wife my heart practically leaped out of my chest and I felt a wave of electricity shoot through my body. My father was standing right behind my wife and the look on his face showed so much disappointment I could not bear to look him in the eyes.
After all these years of being spanked by my wife, the childhood spanking I received from my mother and the fear of being spanked in front of Sarah, I never could have imagined how much shame and embarrassment I would feel when standing in front of my father with my pants and briefs at my ankles with my freshly spanked bottom on display. Being seen as weak and wimpy in front of another man was more painful than I would have thought.
I apologize to my wife as my mother and father get ready to leave my father walks up to me and as I look down down to my pants and briefs at my ankles my father just says to me. "You just better grow up and grow up fast! This childish crap had better stop. Your child needs a father who is a man and I hope to God for your sake this is the last time someone needs to beat your backside."
With that fresh tears started down my cheeks. That hurt more than the spanking, to know my father did not yet see me as a man.
After they left, my wife did make me stand in the corner with my nose to the wall. Eventually I heard her crying. I pleaded from the corner to let me come and comfort her. She agreed. I shuffled over to her, pants at my ankles and gave her a hug and kiss. We eventually went to be where she laid on her side and I gave her a deep back massage to relieve her aching back.
I promised never to storm out on her again. God help me. I want to be a man. My child deserves a good hearted man for a father and I will bust my ass to become one.
Again, I tried not to get emotional or excited, "I understand mother, but like I said, I will discuss this with her when she gets home. This is between her and I and does not concern you."
She replied as calmly as me, "Well, it does concern me as she was the one who called me all upset. Your father and I came over here right away to minimize the damage you had done. If you wanted this to be between you and her, then you should have stayed here and worked it out instead of running away like a child and refusing to answer your phone. You made it my concern when you abandoned your wife."
She paused letting the words sink in. I struggled for an intelligent response and when none came she continued.
"Now," she started again, "you are going to get your naughty backside spanked by me and you will stand in the corner until your wife gets home. After that, I hope the two of you can work out the issues you are having."
My heart was pounding in my chest and my mouth was getting dry, but again I tried to maintain my composure and calmly tried to reassert myself, "Sorry mother, I am not going to be spanked by you. I am not baby anymore."
"Nonsense!", she replied a little more forceful, "you act like a child, you get treated like a child. That is the way it has always been. It's not like you haven't been spanked before. It's not like you haven't been spanked by ME before. Now come here and take your spanking and don't make this any worse for yourself." she said as she pointed to the spot in front of where she was sitting.
I was confused. This was very different from my wife threatening to spank me. I must admit, what normally forces me into compliance with my wife is the fact that I don't want to lose her. Now I love my mother, but I did not feel the same kind of threat from her that I did for my wife.
I swallowed hard, took a deep breath and again calmly asserted myself. "I appreciate your concern and willingness to help and I thank you for helping us out during our disagreement, but like I said, what happens next is between me and my wife."
I thought that would be the end of it. I was calm and adult like and had made my point. Whatever, had happened in the past with my wife spanking me was between my wife and I. Oh, of course I realize now that it was my mother who had persuaded her to do it, but still. My mother lost her authority to spank me when I became an adult. If my wife wanted to spank me when she got home, I would reluctantly accept that, but my mother was not going to spank me.
She stood up and I held my head up defiantly. She looked at me and I could see the disappointment in her eyes. She moved slowly towards me. I had a reflex to cringe and back away, but I forced myself to hold my ground. When she got to within a foot from me and did not see me backing down I figured that would be the end of it.
At first, she spoke softly, "I don't think you fully understand the position you are in. Your wife has given me the authority to spank you. Regardless of that fact, I am your mother and I will be your mother until the day I die. You are never too old to be spanked. If you act like a child you will be spanked like a child. You thought you were too old to be spanked when you were 12. You were wrong then and you are wrong now."
I hated my mother at that moment, bringing up the last time she spanked me. It made me feel like such a child. I cringed at the thought. I continued to stand my ground but as the realization that she was not backing down began to sink in, I realized I had two choices, fight or flight. She was right, she was my mother, fight was not an option, but flight was. I decided to just walk away and lock myself in the bathroom and wait for my wife to come home.
"I need to use the bathroom." I said calmly hoping she would not realize my intentions.
She grabbed my arm as I started to move, "I don't think so." she said sternly. She gripped my arm strongly and I was unsure what to do next.
You see, unlike when my wife was ordering me around, I felt I had nothing to lose with my mother. If I refused to submit, what would the consequences be? This was not like when I was 12. I really was a child at 12 and had no choice but to ultimately submit to my mother's authority, but I was an adult now. If I refused, it was not like with my wife where I was afraid she would leave me. I loved my mother and wanted to be respectful but in the end, she held no real authority over me.
Then almost as if she could read minds she said, "Look, you need to understand that I am acting with full support of your wife. She is in no condition to spank you herself. You have been spanked before when you needed it and while we were hoping you had finally matured, you need to understand that you will be spanked again now and in the future should you regress to your childish ways. Your wife is pregnant with your child. A child who will need a responsible and caring father, not some selfish, irresponsible man who acts like a child when things don't go his way. Your wife has told me you have made a lot of progress in the last few years but clearly there is still room for improvement. I know this is very difficult for you, but I am your mother. I suggest you take your spanking and be in the corner with your pants down when your wife comes home. Storming out of the house and leaving you pregnant wife here alone, wondering what was happening was very irresponsible. Accepting your spanking for that will go a long way to show your remorse for that and get your marriage back on track."
As the words started to sink in, my heart started to pound in my chest and I started to shiver slightly as I slowly began to think about what I had done. I looked at my mother and felt so ashamed at what I had did. Already tears filled my eyes as I realized the potential damage I could have done to my marriage.
Again, as if my mother could read minds she added, "You are now bringing a child into this world. You must be there for that child no matter what." she paused for effect, "Just like your father and I were always there for you." she paused again, "Just like I am here for you now."
I finally looked down at the floor genuinely ashamed for what I did when I saw her reach for my belt. I was broken, and I did not resist. I swallowed hard and perhaps in attempt to console myself I could not help but ask, "Mom, did you spank Dad like this?"
She had my belt unbuckled and was in the process of unbuttoning my jeans when she took a deep breath and paused as if contemplating her response. She looked me in the eye and said, "Don't feel bad about this, but no. Your father was very mature and responsible. I never had to spank him myself. But, if he acted the way you did, you bet I would have. I would like you to be the kind of man your father is. You must accept this spanking and learn from it."
As she unzipped my jeans I began reflecting on what she said about my dad. I guess I was hoping to learn that she spanked him too. I respected my father and saw him as a real man and a positive role model. If I had learned that my mother had spanked him like my wife had spanked me, it might have helped ease the feeling of humiliation I was experiencing. But that was not the case.
As my mother opened the front of my jeans and my white briefs came into view I grabbed the waistband of my jeans and stepped back from her saying, "I am sorry mother, I just can't let you do this." and I started to zip them back up again.
I thought that would be the end of it. I was going to ask her politely to leave and I was going to wait for my wife to come home and the two of us would settle this as a couple.
At first she spoke very calmly, "Your wife will be back in about 30 minutes. We don't have much time. For your own good and the good of your marriage I am going to bare your bottom, spank you and put you in the corner. Are you going to accept the consequences of your action like a penitent young man or do I need to drag you over my lap like a naughty little boy?"
I stood there, my jeans zipped up, but my belt still unbuckled. I was trembling, shaking and feeling a cold icy chill come over me. My stomach was turning over and it was an overall surreal experience. It was strange and weird, yet at the same time a familiar scene. In many ways I felt like I was 12 again but still adamant that at my age I should not be spanked by my mother. Hell I wasn't even sure my wife should be spanking me, but she had a hold on me very different than my mother. I simply did not know what to do and I stood frozen with indecision.
Then it happened. It happened so fast I am not even sure exactly what happened. My mother lunged for me. I felt a burning in my ear as she twisted it cruelly forcing me to bend at the waist. She let go and I felt her hands back at my jeans and they were quickly unzipped and she was tugging them down. I tried to pull away, but she already had them to my knees. As I stepped backwards I lost my balance and fell on the couch. She quickly had my jeans at my ankles and partially turned them inside out across my feet.
She let go of my jeans and I quickly pulled my knees to my chest and tried to protect myself as she approached. "Mom, stop it!" I yelled. cowering on the couch. She again reached for my ear and I yelped in pain as she again twisted it and she forced me up from the couch again to avoid the pain. I stood crouched over in front of her. She let go of my ear and when my hands instinctively went to my ear she took the opportunity to deliver three quick sharp smacks to my bare thigh.
I yelled out at the sting and again flopped back on the couch to escape. "Ow, Mom! That hurt!"
"Get up!" she shouted, as I started to hear the controlled anger in her voice. She was determined. I could clearly see that. I thought of making a run for the bathroom again, but my pants around my ankles made that impossible. "You are just making this worse for your self. Now stand up." She delivered three more smacks to the back of my thighs and I curled up on the couch.
"Mom, please stop!" She responded to my pleas with three more slaps. Tears started to flow down my eyes, not so much from the pain. The slaps stung, but they really didn't hurt that much. No, the tears were from a deep well of emotion made up of confusion, fear, humiliation and a feeling of inadequacy. What kind of man was I that found my self curled up on the couch, pants at my ankles begging my mom to stop hitting me?
"Mom, please don't spank me." I began through the tears. I felt her hand at my ear again, but I quickly got up to avoid the pain. She placed her hands on my underpants and I instinctively reach for her hands to stop her, but I did not pull away. 'Mom, please let me keep my underpants on." and with that plea she knew she had me. I was beginning to submit.
"Perhaps if you had obeyed me right away I might have considered it, but your childish behavior does not warrant any leniency." and with that she quickly pulled my briefs all the way down to my ankles. As she stared at my now bared body, she could not resist the temptation to further 'put me in my place' with a quick comment "You have nothing to hide. It is not like I have not see you like this before. With the exception that you have a little hair around it now, you don't look much different than when you were 12."
That hurt. How dare she belittle my genitals. What kind of mother would do that? But she had no sooner said it when I found myself falling across her knees. She clamped my legs with her leg and before I could even process what was happening the hairbrush came crashing down on my helpless backside.
It hurt. It hurt a lot! She was spanking me with all her strength. I was crying like I was 12 years old again. Of course some of that was from the pain, but most of the tears were from the overwhelming emotional confusion I was experiencing. I was an adult and my mother was spanking me like she did when I was 12. It was too much for me to process and I was an emotional wreck.
She spanked long and hard and I struggled and cried out and begged her to stop with every blow. She held me tight in place and I was surprised at how strong she was, even stronger than my wife. She continued to spank me until I found that I had lost all resistance and was reduced to a sobbing, crying mess before the spanking finally stopped.
I laid over her knees crying myself out and I was exhausted. I heard the door open and my wife and father came in. I shuddered at the thought at what I must look like as they came into the room.
I heard my wife's voice, "Well, it looks like he finally came home. He must have just gotten here if you just finished spanking him He is not in the corner yet."
"Well," my mother started, "it took a little convincing to get him over my knee. I have been letting him cry it out over my knee. Do you want him in the corner?"
"No," my wife replied, "when he is ready to face me he can get up."
I took a deep breath and tried to regain my composure. The sooner I faced my wife, the sooner the ordeal would be over. I choked out between sobs, "OK. I'm ready."
My mother unlocked my legs from hers and I felt her arm guiding me up off my lap. I wanted to reach for my pants and briefs, but instinctively knew I should leave them at my ankles until I received specific permission to pull them up.
As I stood and faced my wife my heart practically leaped out of my chest and I felt a wave of electricity shoot through my body. My father was standing right behind my wife and the look on his face showed so much disappointment I could not bear to look him in the eyes.
After all these years of being spanked by my wife, the childhood spanking I received from my mother and the fear of being spanked in front of Sarah, I never could have imagined how much shame and embarrassment I would feel when standing in front of my father with my pants and briefs at my ankles with my freshly spanked bottom on display. Being seen as weak and wimpy in front of another man was more painful than I would have thought.
I apologize to my wife as my mother and father get ready to leave my father walks up to me and as I look down down to my pants and briefs at my ankles my father just says to me. "You just better grow up and grow up fast! This childish crap had better stop. Your child needs a father who is a man and I hope to God for your sake this is the last time someone needs to beat your backside."
With that fresh tears started down my cheeks. That hurt more than the spanking, to know my father did not yet see me as a man.
After they left, my wife did make me stand in the corner with my nose to the wall. Eventually I heard her crying. I pleaded from the corner to let me come and comfort her. She agreed. I shuffled over to her, pants at my ankles and gave her a hug and kiss. We eventually went to be where she laid on her side and I gave her a deep back massage to relieve her aching back.
I promised never to storm out on her again. God help me. I want to be a man. My child deserves a good hearted man for a father and I will bust my ass to become one.
