Just like your dad used to do

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Romancewithstrap
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Joined: Wed Sep 04, 2024 9:08 am

Just like your dad used to do

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My name is Augusta, and after my twentieth birthday, I became famous with the book series Hardworking Coleen. It is about a girl who solves mysteries while working in a soap factory. Before that, I married Albert, the most handsome specimen in the class. Half the girls in the class wanted to feel his arms on their backs, lay their heads on his chest -and see what he was like down there.
However, after seven years spent in the same house with Albert and five books written, it feels like an endless traffic jam. It concerns my career but also my family life.
Like this morning - I couldn't finish the chapter yesterday and was all the more sensitive to Albert's mistakes.
"You men are all either blind or stupid!" I yelled, picking up the box with the eyebrow hair and letting it land on the table again. "Why would I want to be blonde? I'm proud of my blackness. You should have taken this to Miranda!"
Albert sighed. "Darling, she's your girlfriend. Unlike me, you don't drive but can go to her. No offense, but you can't write. Your ass sits in the study instead of moving around the city or being at my disposal at night to caress."
I showed him the most pissed-off face of my life and locked myself in my study.
Yesterday, the creative part of my brain was wooden, and I was hoping there would be at least termites and worms today. When you fill your system with various neuroses and shaking-ups, you can suddenly get inspiration. But at most, I had tunnels full of cobwebs. I stared blankly at my computer monitor.
"It's only normal if you haven't lived in Pinewoods for two years," Coleen mused. "Tourists love the Wellington statue, and primary school boys get excited when someone asks them to. A keen history buff like Rowley would stop by, so I don't think Christpher Jr is giving us a true account of his day."
David shrugged. "He doesn't share his father's hobbies. Maybe he even forgets what he just heard about..."
I desperately wished I had written more original dialogue, but I was replaying lines I had heard somewhere. I felt like there was not enough air in my author cave, and opening the window wouldn't fix it. I returned to Albert, who still hadn't gone to Miranda's and was stuffing himself with gingerbread cookies in the shape of ballerinas and drinking the rest of his tea instead.

I waved my hand at him. "Sorry for earlier. Wanna coffee?"

He bit down on the other slender legs. "Sure. And make it sweeter than your words, honey."

In retrospect, I should have been wary of his tone.

However, ten minutes were enough, and we were laughing. I even began reminiscing episodes from my childhood, joy followed by torment.

"My dad always emphasized that bro and I can be very active and passive, but like most kids, in the opposite times than we need it. Fortunately, good parents know that we have the switch on our asses." I savored my coffee. "Whenever there was snow outside, we made angels in it, and whenever there was mud, we woke up the devils inside us. Then we were trembling while cutting the switches."

Instead of looking sympathetic, Albert smiled. "What did it look like when you were passive?"

"That was a little better but still unpleasant. If I got homework and didn't do it, it didn't matter how old I was. Dad just bent me over the knee and smacked me with that steel hand of his for over two minutes. If he thought I behaved inappropriately, he pulled down my pants and panties, and my bare ass paid the price. If he checked out on me and I still hadn't done anything, he unbuckled his belt."

"I suppose it was a successful strategy." My husband stopped drinking and stood next to me. I didn't understand it. He was looking at me so eagerly only when we were supposed to have sex.

“Get up, Augusta.

I listened to him, but his words confused me.

"You have writer's block. Maybe you need someone to motivate you. As I told you earlier today, I haven't touched your ass in too long."

I turned to him. "You want to spank me?!"

He came to me and unbuttoned my pants. "I want, and I will. Who knows, maybe you'll write a few chapters. Don't worry, you won't get on the bare. Yet."

It seemed that he wanted revenge on me for that morning, but I recognized that he would have the right to do so. And I was willing to explore if a spanking would help me find my lost inspiration.

I pulled my pants down to my knees, and in the middle of the drab dark clothes, the panties glowed - red like hot lava. I was glad I didn't wear thongs today.

Albert squeezed my hand mercilessly and, in a "Now you'll see" style, led me to the giant sofa from where we watched TV in the evenings. He sat down and let go of me.

"Over."

I had to bend my legs a little to relax on his lap.

I didn´t miss this in my life. When Albert stretched out his hand to my behind me, I probably jerked away. He wrapped his other arm around my waist, and for the first time in years, I painfully received a life lesson.

SMACK!!!

"AAAHHHHH!"

The intensity of the stroke made me horrified. What it would feel if the panties didn´t protect my ass? The first stroke was followed by the second, next to which the first seemed gentle. The third was even worse, and by the fourth, I started apologizing to Albert for how I had behaved before. It must have convinced him that the procedure was paying off because his hand whistled through the air, my cheeks were shaking like the landscape in an earthquake, and he couldn´t understand my pleas through my crying.

“Six of the best wouldn't be enough, of course, so you got four times that, dear.

Was that only twenty-four shots?

"Now Ms. Writer can go back and create."

I was grateful that he ended the spanking and thus received a kiss on the cheek. In the process, a few of my tears fell on his lips, and I received them back on my forehead. I ran from him to the study. Not very fast.

My bottom burned like a stove, but it reminded me to focus. So be it. I put a wet towel on the chair and tried to think of the best words that Coleen would say and those that David would say. I planned the reactions of false suspects and people who denied that a crime had happened. I wrote part of the scene with the discovery of the body.

I started well, but now I wanted to convey somehow that the people of Virgin Rocks, who turn up to the corpse in huge numbers, are amazed - even more - horrified. Because of this, I needed to watch some intriguing crime series where something similar happened. I took my favorite DVD and played it on the computer while the text of my book was waiting on the bar. At first, I wanted to choose a crucial scene, but then I dreamed and watched it from the beginning.

Of course, all dreams come to an end, and in this case, it wasn't waking up that ended it, but Albert's hand over my eyes.

"Mrs. Writer spends too much time on her study material!" He patted my shoulder and stopped my video.

"I needed to get an idea of the scene," I defended myself.

Albert laughed. "You've been watching this for eleven minutes, and I can't hear you typing. I think you need to realize that procrastination is bad. Stand up!"

The order screamed in my ear. It would be hard for me to talk back. But I also screamed when I saw Albert taking my computer from my desk. "Hey, why are you doing this?"

"You lie down there. After you pull your pants back down."

I gasped. "No! Not so soon! I don't want to experience that again!"

"Darling, you won't have it again. This time, you'll get a belt!"

It finally dawned on me."You mean like..."

"Yes, just like your dad used to do. Since the first ass-whooping wasn't enough, you need not only to be motivated but also punished for being lazy. Fortunately, you have another guy who can arrange it for you. And by the way, if you resist, I'll pull your panties down and give you three times as much as before."

Before he could touch my clothes, my pants were gone. I reached to the opposite side of the table and flashed my ass, hopefully at least a little seductively, to show that I wasn't that scared. I was glad he couldn't see my face. I swore I wouldn't scream right from the start because it was clear I eventually would.

SLAP!!!

"Owwwwwiiieeee!"

The leather of the belt kissed my panties with terrifying force, renewing the pain Albert's palm had left there before. I have howled, hoping my husband would take mercy on me.



In vain, of course. The throbbing of my butt returned with tenfold intensity. When I started to move, I got hit under the butt, so I better not do it again. When I felt a cold metal buckle on my scorched thigh at the seventh blow, I cried out loud. It was at that moment I felt like a little girl still going to school. I knew that Albert's parents also raised him strictly. I bitterly realized that, at home, I am still at the level of a child.

However, now I was a big girl, and after twenty-four wounds, I had perhaps the sorest bottom in my life. I hoped this was where the spanking could end because that's how much I got by hand.

"This is where I finished last time, but it didn't do you any favor, my dear, so I'll add one more."

I wanted to scream "unfair" but instead had to scream an erratic "Owwowowoewow" as soon as the strap held in my husband's powerful arm hit my sit spot. I didn't straighten up and caress my cheeks, but even that hurt, and I jumped in front of the table for a while.

"You'll probably have to lie down, but you'll mainly be writing. If you can't do that, I want you to clean the house."

Albert took me on his lap, locking my leg between his. He kissed my neck and stroked my hair. He made my distress go away, even though the pain would stay with me for a few days.

He then went to see Miranda, and I followed his instructions. I wrote lying down for a while, focused on the text itself. When I didn't know what to do next, I tried to improve a little, and since it was getting late, I prepared the ingredients for chili con carne, which I wanted to fill tonight's dinner with.

Once Albert returned, we rocked each other with our tenderness and enjoyed a dinner for which he complimented me. I went to change before he did. I put on my nightgown and made our beds. All you had to do was get under the covers and go out.

Albert came up to me and smiled slightly. "I think you can stop. Come to me and take it off."

Now I smiled again. I gently grabbed the nightgown´s hem and pulled it all over my head. I spread my legs a little and pushed my round breasts towards my husband. The round creatures called for a caress and the hardening nipples for a pinch.

"Turn around, dear."

Oh. I opened my mouth and turned around to show my bottom. Out of curiosity, I turned and looked in the mirror. It was unbelievable, but that's how I felt. My excellent ass, which I'd twirled around with since puberty, was red, sometimes blue to black, and a few lines indicated where a belt had attached itself to it through my panties. The pain came back under Albert's gaze.

"You can touch me everywhere else today," I promised him.

He took a step forward and pulled me by the arm.

“Today was good, but I'd like you to promise me a few things.” He pulled something out of his pocket that I wouldn't have expected this evening. A red hairbrush and waved it around.

"I want you to say: 'I will either write or work.'"

I obediently repeated it. "Look, there's no need for you to point it out to me, I'd-"

WHACK!!!

I tried to free my hand from his clutch, twisting it, but I couldn't. "I would have known this already without you!" My buttocks would be playing the painful tunes as the brush hit the affected area and penetrated the bare skin even further than the belt.

“Say: "When I'm writing, I will focus on that." “

“Yes, when I´m writing, I will focus on that."

WHACK!!!

This time, he aimed a blow at the other buttock. I staggered, but Albert held me and bent me forward.

“Now tell me, I will never be rude to my husband.

"I promise I will never be rude to my husband!"

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

"If you ever forget that, dear, you'll get four strokes next time. At the beginning."

He let go of my hand, and I couldn't be more ashamed. I grabbed my ass, as if I wanted to protect myself from further blows while I wasn´t in immediate danger anyway, and I tried to hide the ashamed part of my body. I realized that from now on, my marriage would be about getting as many kisses and as few spanks as possible.
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