When my next-door neighbor, Tammy, arrived that evening, I was heating some pre-made lasagna. A salad was on the table and a bottle of red wine was open.

These sessions had begun as a way to motivate Tammy to adopt better habits and had morphed into an opportunity to share dinner together. She reached into the pocket of her coat and handed me her hairbrush.

“How’ve you been doing controlling your speeding,” I asked. One of the behaviors I was trying to help manage was her aggressive driving.

“Not so well,” she admitted.

“And flipping-off other drivers?”

“A few.”

I pulled a straight chair from the dining table and took a seat. I patted my right thigh and she responded instinctively. Approaching my side, she handed me her phone and shrugged her leggings and panties to mid-thigh. She retrieved her phone and laid herself across my knee. Her left cheek still bore the small band-aid I had placed there earlier in the day after her B-12 shot. “One minute,” I instructed. She groaned and set a timer on her phone for one minute, then set the phone on the floor below her face. While a seemingly brief interval, a full minute of swats with a hairbrush was sufficient to leave her bottom very sore and likely a bit bruised. She hesitated for a moment and when I saw her hit the start button, I began to spank. Initially the swats alternated side-to-side fully covering the cheeks from crest to crease until both shown pink and warm. In the second phase, I would focus several swats on the sit-spot of the same cheek, then switch cheeks and so on. As the timer approached the end of the minute, I slowed the pace and returned to alternating sides with very hard, final strikes to the tender zone where cheek and thigh intersect.

For a moment, she lay across my lap catching her breath. Then she slowly rose and hobbled into the foyer where she looked at her well-spanked bottom in the mirror.

I was mildly amused at how she shifted in her seat during dinner and was taken aback when she asked, “When do I get to spank you?”

“For what misdeed do I deserve a spanking?” I countered, a bit aroused by the thought of having the tables turned and being over her knee while she spanked my bare ass.

“Hmm,” she mused, “I’m sure I can think of something.”

After we had cleaned up dinner, she began to put on her coat. “Not so fast,” I challenged. “We still have a final issue to resolve.”

Another behavior issue was her propensity for foul language. A few days before she had emailed me an incident at work, where she’d lost her temper and cursed at work.

“Swearing at work has earned you a dozen,” I stated as I unbuckled my belt.

She dropped her coat as I again pulled a chair out from the table. This time rather than me sitting in it, she approached the empty chair and bared her bottom and bent over. I doubled the belt in my hand and tapped it lightly against her already sore bottom. At a slow pace, I stroked her proffered ass with the heavy leather strap adding a criss-cross of welts to her colorful tush.

She slowly pulled her panties and leggings over her inflamed derriere. “Thanks for dinner,” she offered as she pulled her coat back on. She gave me a hug and turned to leave.

“Hey,” I called after her picking up the brush that was on the counter. “You may need this.”

“Perhaps,” she replied but offered it back to me. “I figured I would be back after my kiddo is in bed and give you a little taste of your own medicine.”