Chapter 20. Lisa

Lisa returned home alone. She reported that Dianne and Kim had both had enough of spankings at *this* house.

Tom and Barbara assumed that Lisa had talked them out of coming over. That was okay; they had had their chance. They would check up later to ensure that Lisa had given them the whole story. If she hadn't, well, Lisa should have no doubt in her mind as to what would happen all over again.

Tom instructed Lisa to take a chair to the rec room, and place it facing the wicker chair. Tom and Barbara followed Lisa into the room. Tom and Barbara had redressed themselves in the same clothes as when Lisa had left the house. They saw no need to give away *too* many secrets! Barbara remained standing near the door.

"Barbara, please have a seat in the wicker chair, the same as before." Barbara knew Tom, and knew this was not the time to argue, so she sat down ever-so-gently on the chair, disguising the carefulness by smoothing her dress out as she sat.

Lisa, concerned with her own troubles, had not noticed. "I thought you said Mom was getting spanked too!"

"Tom just finished spanking me, while you were out. I had no idea he could spank so hard! Believe me, I would be standing up, if Tom hadn't insisted I sit down!"

Tom had seated himself while Barbara was explaining. He spoke to Lisa. "You know you're about to be spanked on the bare bottom, and you know why. Is that correct?"

Lisa nodded her head, Yes.

Tom saw a problem coming. Lisa was still dressed up for the day, wearing pantyhose under the black-and-teal dress. Just lifting her dress would leave too much material bunched up, so she would have to remove the entire dress. Tom judged that unnecessary. One naked woman, or nearly-naked, was enough for the day.

"You'll have to remove that dress, or it will be too much in the way. Instead, would you like to run to your room and change, to put on a shirt and shorts or something?"

Lisa sighed in relief and sped from the room. Tom was sure she still knew better than to keep them waiting with a spanking imminent. Nevertheless, Lisa did not return for several minutes. She returned in a pale green knit top and denim shorts. The sweater, Tom noted, was short enough to stay out of the way, and would not shift around when she struggled. And he intended to make her struggle! The denim shorts were very tight. No doubt they would seem noticeably tighter when she put them back on. Lisa was barefoot, with her hair hanging loosely past her shoulders. Now why in the world had she taken time to brush out her hair?

Lisa slipped off the shorts and plain white panties, leaving them dropped on the floor. She reluctantly bent across her father's lap for punishment, just as in days of old--except that in years far past, she had usually been far less cooperative. But the result was always the same. When her father determined she would be spanked, she got spanked. The back view showed Lisa to be as mature as her now-married sister. The same as her mother, for that matter.

This was getting to be quite a habit for Tom. This was the fifth adult woman he had spanked in less than a month--and every spanking, in his opinion, had been well deserved.

By now Tom had learned how to spank for good effect. Spanking a woman was different from spanking a child. With a child, the punishment is short, sharp, and quickly over, and cooperation is neither needed nor expected.

But it takes more to make an adult cry tears of repentance. The adult needs to be in the right frame of mind for the punishment to have any worth in the first place. Then the pain threshold must be passed, so that the adult is *truly* sorry in the same way a spanked child is. This requires an aspect of hopelessness, of not knowing how long the punishment will last, only that it will hurt too much to bear without crying, and hard enough that the one being punished will not want it repeated any time soon.

Or so Tom theorized. Tom was neither psychologist nor psychiatrist, but a systems programmer by trade. True to his "techie" outlook on life, he made a mental model of what was happening, so that he could proceed as efficiently as possible. In this case, his objective was to spank his adult daughter, in such a way that she responded--and repented--the same as she had as a child. If she responded the same way as his wife had, he wasn't quite sure *what* to do. But, he was sure, Barbara would know what to do. There would be no "funny business" in *this* household. (Except between himself and Barbara, of course.)

Now for the spanking. Tom began by spanking Lisa as he had spanked her as a child. That is, a hard slap to one side of her bottom, and a hard slap to the other side. At this point he usually had to pause and force Lisa back into position. Of course, back then, one hand slap had covered her entire bottom. Not so any more! Before, each slap had renewed Lisa's effort to escape further punishment. Today, however, Lisa lay still with hardly a twitch as Tom's hand bounced off her back side. So Tom continued spanking, alternating hard, deliberate slaps to one side and the other, with a few seconds' pause between each one. Each spank was to the same spot, right at the center of each bottom cheek. Lisa soon had a bright red hand-size circle on each cheek. But she made no motion, no sound.

Tom slowed down the pace, but kept it steady. He was thinking in terms of a long, thorough spanking. He placed his slaps all over her bottom area, in unpredictable fashion. Lisa was now clenching and relaxing her bottom after each slap, and made a grunting-whining noise whenever he landed a slap in an unexpected location. It looked to Tom like Lisa was starting to cry, a little, but he couldn't quite tell.

Tom found he could ignore the pain in his hand as he maintained the steady pace. He was breathing more deeply now as his arm was tiring a bit. But Tom kept spanking and spanking.

After slapping Lisa's bottom forty times (Tom couldn't help counting), Tom paused. Lisa continued to lay there. She was biting her lip. Yes, her bottom was definitely hurting her.

Tom now gave the hardest slap he could, delivered in the way that had provoked the greatest reaction in his recent past experience.

"Ouch!" Lisa felt that one.

Tom let his arm relax, then delivered another of his best spanks. Tom kept the pace slow and easy, so he could take deliberate aim and make each spank one of his best. Lisa had to wait about 20 seconds between swats.

Now *this* was a spanking. After six of his best, Lisa twisted around teary-eyed and begged her father to be done now. Tom shook his head, No, and slowly continued spanking his hardest and most effective.

Just four hard slaps later--over a minute--Lisa put one hand back to cover her bottom and again begged him to stop. Barbara knew what to do; she grabbed both of her daughter's wrists behind her back and forced her to remain in a bent-over position. Lisa shrieked when she discovered her mother was standing on her hair; Barbara lifted her foot and allowed her daughter to shake her head, pulling her hair out of the way.

Tom lifted Lisa off his lap a bit and got his right leg out from under her. Now she was bent over just his left leg, and he could use his right foot to hold her legs out of his way. Tom shifted her around slightly until his target was exactly in place. Lisa was bent a little more sharply to the left now, exposing the lower portion of her bottom as the main target.

Tom resumed spanking his hardest, concentrating on Lisa's lower bottom and the very tops of her legs. Every slap was obvious punishment now. Tom spanked on and on without comment. With a loud sob, Lisa finally burst into tears. She cried and cried, right through another three hard slaps. She wailed about how sorry she was in a tear-choked voice. She would never be a tattle-tale or a sneak again.

Tom continued spanking. Lisa was frantic. She twisted and turned, but could not get her arms loose or lift up. Her legs were pinned under Tom's right foot. Lisa heaved and bucked, but could not escape. Tom had trouble landing the next couple on target. He took care to time his spanking to her thrashing.

Lisa had been punished. Of this, neither of Lisa's parents had any doubt. Tom finished up by spanking Lisa just as he had started, hard and fairly fast, delivered right to the middle of her bottom, alternating from one side to the other. Twelve final hard spanks, six to each side of her bottom. Lisa reacted just like she had ten or eleven years ago, screaming and sobbing uncontrollably, clenching her bottom cheeks together (that hurt his hand even worse), trying to kick and buck and stand up. All to no avail.

Tom let his arm drop to his side, breathing heavily. He removed his right leg from pinning Lisa down, and Barbara let go. Lisa pushed herself off her father's lap to land heavily on her hip on the floor.

"Ouch!" That hip was angry red and already sore enough! Lisa stretched herself out on her stomach at Tom's feet, burying her face in her arms.

She continued to cry for a few moments longer.

Then she looked up to her mother. "Is *that* what you got too? I don't see how I'll sit down before next week! And I will never, ever get Amy in trouble again!"

Barbara thought that Lisa's spanking was probably harder than her own, but not by much. She noted that it was time for Lisa to put her shorts back on.

Lisa replaced her panties, but not her shorts. Tom insisted she put her shorts back on, so she could "sit down and visit with us a few minutes." Lisa got her shorts back on, but it took three tries! The third time, she just bit her lip and yanked them up, zipping and snapping quickly. She sat down with her hands under her bottom, as her parents smiled at her discomfort. (Parents will be parents, even when their kids are grown up and married off.) Tears were still streaming down Lisa's face and dripping off her chin, soaking into her sweater. Nobody actually had anything much to say at this point. Tom dismissed Lisa, who again sped from the room.

Barbara stood up, holding her own bottom in her hands. She asked if they could go back to their own room for a while. As Barbara lay on her bed for inspection, they discovered her bottom was still deeply colored and very sensitive to the touch. They found each other aroused again, Barbara continually aware of the heat following her. They decided the rest of the house could take care of itself, and spent the rest of the night together, not even bothering to turn down the heat or turn off the porch light. It had been a while since they had made love more than once in the same evening.

Chapter 21. Secret Codes

Jeff and Amy went through the various adjustments common to newly-married couples. Even though they had anticipated and discussed many things ahead of time, not all was starry-eyed perfect. They had good days and bad days, rainy days and sunny days. (Well, one sunny day. It was still winter.) Finances were tight, and life became depressingly normal. Well, not exactly normal. They had each other, now, and they made the most of each other. Often (if you catch my meaning). Like any self-respecting new bride, Amy had a good selection of nightwear and lingerie. Almost nothing practical, of course--it had not occurred to Jeff or any other gift-givers that practicality was a relevant criterion for selecting "intimate apparel." When Amy wore something sexy, Jeff was *most* appreciative. Nothing was in danger of wearing out, either; nothing seemed to actually stay on for long. Jeff, fortunately, was wise enough to pay attention to her at other times too.

But that electric-blue night gown soon became a signal of sorts. It seemed that every time Amy wore it, she received a light spanking from Jeff on one pretext or another. So long as it was not too severe, Amy found a spanking from Jeff to be extremely erotic. Jeff enjoyed the game at least as much.

Sometimes Amy chose the night gown to wear; sometimes Jeff hinted or left it out for her. Depending on mood, sometimes Jeff demanded she immediately strip and don the "special" gown.

Then there was the time Amy couldn't put on the night gown, because it was in the pile of laundry. That day, Amy was playing the naughty, spoiled brat in obvious need of discipline. The fact that she was full-grown simply made the need for discipline more urgent. (They had been playing this game more and more often.) Amy impudently refused to put on the night gown.

She would not sully herself with anything from a pile of laundry. After all, she had her standards to maintain. Didn't he usually like her choice of clothing, especially night gowns? (Yes, he certainly did.) Were the blue matching panties in the laundry too? Yes, of course. They go together, stupid.

Well, if the "special" gown and panties were in the laundry, that was that. The "rules" they had worked out their first month of marriage specified that she never got spanked in any other clothing. And he couldn't exactly expect her to put on clothes that weren't clean. After all, she had her standards. And, Jeff noted, he very much liked the look of her standard.

So there was only one option. She would have to be spanked without any clothing on at all. Didn't the rules specify the night gown? No, so far as he recalled, the rules never covered the stark naked case. (Amy wasn't stupid; she knew the pun was intended.) They never wrote down the rules, of course. Otherwise, there would be nothing to argue about, and nothing to invent in an "emergency." Sometimes, the object of the game was to figure out the rules.

Naturally, because Jeff was forced to bend the rules a little to even allow her to be spanked at all, he would have to spank her rather harder than she otherwise deserved. He would first have to strip her completely naked, and that was rather more work than the usual procedure. As she had so carefully pointed out, he was too stupid to see any other options.

It's hard to argue with such stupid logic, Amy realized. But that didn't mean she had to cooperate. It took Jeff quite some time to get all of her clothing off without damaging anything. He couldn't understand why she was being so difficult when he was just doing a public service, even to the point of bending the rules to accommodate her. While they were struggling over the last remaining item of clothing, she retorted that he was just too stupid to understand such things.

"Stupid" was another of their code words. They never called each other bad names, in any way even remotely referring to reality. That meant she was really asking for it. For the moment, "it" referred to the severity of the spanking. Of course, her "stupid" husband had still had to figure out a way to get her across his knees and still stay within the rules. But if he could figure out a way, she was going to get it. She had been hoping he was going to delay the game until he could do the necessary laundry. The silk panties had to be washed separately. No such luck.

It was the sofa this time. All spankings were either in the kitchen or living room, because the neighbors could hear them in the bed room. (Their neighbors were young themselves, and didn't seem to mind too much.) Jeff sat down on the right-hand half of the sofa and pulled Amy across his lap.

Kneeling with her knees on the floor, Amy lay along the left-hand side of the couch with her bottom in the air. It was far more comfortable for Amy to support herself on the sofa cushion than to be suspended across his lap, over the carpet. Her bottom was facing more to the right, rather than straight up, but she was sure her husband could find it well enough.

This spanking was rather harder than their play spankings to date.

For the first time since they had opened those strange wedding presents, Amy kicked and howled in all seriousness. Jeff handled her as easily as always, and continued to casually spank her most firmly.

Jeff might be feeling casual, but suddenly Amy was *not*. But she was as completely helpless as always in this situation, and that feeling of helplessness fueled her mounting excitement as much as always. But this time her bottom *hurt*. And Jeff was still spanking her. As a public service and special favor. She had asked for it, and Jeff was acting too "stupid" to realize that she'd been spanked hard enough.

Kicking and wailing didn't work. It never did. But this time she was completely naked. She was an extremely beautiful woman, most of all to Jeff, but at the moment he didn't seem to care. When she was naked, especially naked and struggling, she *always* had his attention. But this time, he did not seem to be noticing. Those tears were *real*. So she informed Jeff. The spanking should be over now. But her thick-headed husband explained that he was just following the rules. He was a bit slow today, almost stupid you might say, and he'd have to think about it for a while. Meanwhile, Amy's bottom was getting more and more sore.

Jeff finally stopped spanking her, and with a cheerful smile, lifted her to her feet. That part of the game over, Amy attacked Jeff and bore him to the floor, her purpose obvious. Her tears continued to drip on Jeff for a while--she was not about to be the one on the bottom--but sorrow was the last thing on her mind. She *did* make a mental note to herself, however, not to call him "stupid" more than once in the same game.

Chapter 22. Credit

By now, Jeff and Amy realized they were definitely "in to" spanking games. Just like they were "in to" anything else to do with sex that they could think of (with each other, that is). So far, Jeff and Amy had kept the spanking games in the context of play. Not since the memorable opening of the wedding presents had Amy been spanked for a "real" offense.

Only Amy was spanked. After all, the "rules" said spankings had to be while wearing the electric-blue night gown and matching panties, and they did not fit Jeff. And Jeff had no interest in wearing women's clothing. But if Amy made it worth his while, no doubt, even that could change.

Of course, the rules had recently been clarified to allow for one to be spanked in the nude. And naturally, bare-naked spankings had to be rather harder to compensate. So, the rules now allowed the possibility of Jeff getting spanked--but neither seemed to feel a need in that direction.

The very first month they had been married, it had happened that Amy put too much on their Visa credit card, and they were unable to pay off the monthly balance. That meant that, for the first time, they had to pay interest on the account. They had agreed to never let that happen. They discussed it and agreed to be very careful the following month, to ensure the balance was paid off on time. They didn't make it. Both promised to stop charging completely.

But Amy forgot. The next bill arrived and disclosed the problem. Amy left it out for Jeff to see--they were going through the mail together--and disappeared from the room.

As he realized what had happened, Jeff called to his wife. "I thought we were going to stop charging."

"We were. I'm sorry; I forgot. Just a minute, and I'll be out."

Amy returned wearing the electric-blue nightgown and sat down to continue going through the mail. Jeff spoke. "Shall we make sure it doesn't happen again?"

Amy replied with a smile, "I think we'd better."

Jeff raised the stakes. "Then I think you should go dig out the red silk scarf." Jeff had just created a new "rule." From now on, they both realized, punishment for a "real" problem could only take place with one's hands tied by the red scarf.

Amy stood up, left again, and returned with the contrasting red scarf. My, did she look good in that night gown! She presented the scarf to Jeff, crossed her wrists for him, and he tied her hands in the prescribed manner.

Amy made another modification to the "rules." She asked, "Shouldn't this be on the bare bottom?" Indeed it should, Jeff immediately realized. Jeff reached down to carefully lower and remove her panties, placing them on top of the Visa billing statement. Jeff had seen everything before, of course, but panty removal remained a delightful revelation.

Jeff took Amy firmly by the forearm and led her over to the sofa. Jeff sat on the edge of the sofa, in the middle, and invited Amy across his lap. She kneeled down on the floor to his right and arranged herself across his knees, with her elbows on the floor and her bound hands framing her head. Now her knees were not quite touching the floor.

Jeff asked her, "Do you remember the last time I spanked you with your hands tied?" She certainly did. "Do you deserve a spanking that hard?" No, she did not. "About half that hard?" Well, maybe. Which, of course, meant Yes. "That would be about two dozen of my hardest spanks, then, plus maybe a little extra if you don't lay still." Amy protested, but not too loudly.

Jeff spanked her. By now Jeff had had a *lot* of practice, and could be most devastating. Amy lay still for twenty of the two dozen ringing smacks, her rear cheeks bouncing after each one. She was a veteran by now, and let her legs lay open, her knees almost a foot apart. When she was being spanked, she left *everything* open and available to her husband. (But, of course, she normally kept those blue silk panties on, so she was only being a tease.) Because of this, Jeff was distracted from his task, as often as not. But not this time. Each slap brought an "Ow!" After twenty, she shouted, "Enough!" and tried to bounce herself off Jeff's lap.

But Jeff held her tightly to his stomach. Her escape attempt had failed. Jeff spanked her four more times with renewed enthusiasm. Amy kicked and cried. Real tears, no acting required.

"Okay, that was enough, but I think maybe a little extra is called for." Amy protested--she sounded very sincere--but Jeff held on and spanked her some more. It was a bit more difficult, now, with all of her kicking and twisting, but Jeff by now had plenty of practice with such circumstances.

That day, Amy received six extra swats for an even thirty. Amy was not sure if that established a "rule" specifying the severity of a "real" punishment spanking or not. She would be sure to negotiate if the situation ever arose again--and she knew the chances were that it would.

Chapter 23. Finding the Balance

By the end of that Spring, Amy had been spanked three more times for "real" offenses. The "rule" had been firmly (!) established at two dozen hard spanks on the bare bottom, with six extra for a lack of cooperation. Amy always got the extra, so the rule might as well be stated as an even thirty.

Whether the spanking was in play or as real punishment, Amy saw it as an erotic game. Like her mother, Amy had discovered the stinging warmup added a spice to their lovemaking available no other way. Lovemaking always followed the spanking. This kind of play was always at home, with Amy barely dressed anyway. The inevitable soon followed. Once, Jeff had offered to spank her in the car--she had just earned it--but Amy made it clear public places were out of bounds. Jeff respected that limit.

But Amy was discovering that she could get away with just about anything with Jeff, so long as she was willing to put up with a spanking afterwards. Amy decided she like that kind of power. All she had to do was put on the "special" night gown (no need for the panties) and present Jeff with the red scarf before he found out whatever it was that she had done. The rule was well established, so she always knew exactly what she was in for. No more and no less.

After the spanking, emotions spent, they were both in the right frame of mind to work out whatever the problem was like adults. Accusations, finger-pointing, guilt, and blame assignment were all unnecessary at that point. All that remained was to talk things out like responsible adults. Then they could kiss and make out. So far, to their naive young minds, this seemed a very good system. Were they manipulating each other, or taking mutual advantage of each other? Probably so. But they both knew that, and discussed it, and agreed things seemed to be working fine for the foreseeable future. Fortunately, they had formed a deeply intimate relationship, long before they had become sexually involved. (They had, you see, "waited" until marriage; and, until then, had to settle for talking with each other.) The spanking games were just one aspect of their sexuality, and their entire physical relationship was far from the totality of their marriage.

Or so they assured each other. Not having the experience of a long-term marriage, they had no standard to judge by. Regardless of mutual assurances to the contrary, they spent the large proportion of their time with each other, communicating on a primarily physical level. In short, they were acting like newlyweds.

Amy took their "crime and punishment" system a step further. There came the time when she knew she could not afford something, so she decided to put it on the Visa charge card. She would present Jeff the silk scarf that night; it would be worth it. She knew exactly what punishment the "rules" specified, and she was prepared to accept it. In fact, knowing what was coming, she was rather warm all day.

When Jeff came home that evening, Amy was cooking dinner attired only in her electric-blue "baby doll" night gown. And not for the first time, of course. But this time she was wearing no panties. That didn't fit the "rules."

Or did it? Carefully arranged in front of his place at the table, Jeff found the red silk scarf. So Amy was anticipating a hard spanking tonight, was she? Very well; the system seemed to be working. And the aftermath was always *most* enjoyable for both of them. But Jeff took no formal notice of the situation until after dinner.

Amy was obviously a bit uncomfortable sitting through dinner without panties on, but likewise made no comment. Sitting through dinner with bare seat (and more) on vinyl was no trivial ordeal. In the state she was in-- already rather swollen down there in juicy anticipation--she sat through ever-increasing discomfort.

Dinner was finally over. After they had washed and put away the dishes, and Amy had wiped down the chair where she had been sitting, Jeff asked what the occasion was.

Amy gave a detailed story of her shopping trip--she had told him most of it during dinner--and eventually got around to explaining how she trapped herself into buying this one particular item. Then she realized they didn't have the money in their check book, so she had to put it on the Visa charge card. But she knew she wasn't supposed to do that; she knew exactly what that did to their budget. She was afraid things were going to be tight next month, but they actually did need this item she purchased, and she had found it on too good a sale to pass up.

She had a point. But she also clearly understood that, according to their "rules," this called for a bare-bottom spanking. "Have you earned a bare- bottom spanking by using the charge card today?" Amy nodded, Yes.

Jeff picked up the scarf and sat down on the edge of the sofa. Amy had followed him, and held her wrists out for binding. Over his knees she went, night gown riding up against her upper arms, knees not quite touching the carpet. She left her legs spread for his appreciation.

But her bottom and upper thighs were already red! Sitting through dinner on a vinyl chair was a "bonus" neither had bargained for. Sure enough, Amy immediately discovered, her bottom was already sensitized as if she had been spanked earlier. Both filed that discovery for future use.

Jeff spanked her hard, twenty-four times. As always, this brought tears to Amy's eyes, but she managed to lay still. Jeff picked her up and slid back to sit fully on the sofa, and bundled her into his lap. Her bottom stung too much for this to be completely comfortable, but Amy was as warmed up as usual and didn't mind too much. She snuggled up to her husband.

Jeff spoke to her. "That spanking was for using the charge card today when you knew you should not have. But didn't you *plan* to use the card today, and figure you could get away with it at the cost of a spanking?"

Oh, dear. Just when she had Jeff figured out, he was getting *her* figured out. Yes, he was right. Again. As usual, it seems.

"I would hate to think you're manipulating me with that red scarf.

I'm starting to get the impression you think you can get away with anything you want, so long as you get me to spank you before I find out." That's not exactly how she would put it, but she guessed he was pretty much correct. (And she realized she was still wearing the scarf. Was that an oversight? She was *not* about to bring that to his attention.)

But Jeff untied her hands. That was a relief to Amy. Then Jeff announced, "Now I'm going to spank you for trying to manipulate me. Are you in fact guilty of trying to pull one over on me?" She was. Yes, it had been on purpose. She was not going to make *that* mistake again. She had gone too far, and now belatedly realized it. With this understanding, the lesson was learned, but their well-established "rules" required Jeff to continue to drive the point home.

"Very well. Go fetch the paddle. It's about time we tried it out." Oh, no! She blushed thinking about that last time she had been paddled, just before her wedding. Jeff noticed her reaction and found it intensely interesting, but could not fathom the reason for this differing emotion. Amy caught his notice and decided it best to stop arguing and go find the paddle. She was *really* going to get it now.

Amy began to cry. She *was* sorry. These were tears of repentance, not of spanked-bottom pain. Jeff assured her of his understanding, with a hug. But they both knew the "rules" and the reasons, and both assumed the punishment remained necessary. Amy disentangled herself to fetch the paddle, wiping her eyes and ignoring her bright-red bottom.

When Amy returned with the paddle, Jeff untied the ribbon still on the handle. He suggested she could slip off her night gown, as it would just get in the way.

Amy slipped out of the one garment, realizing something different was in the air. Jeff asked her to stand in the middle of the room, with her legs spread a couple of feet apart, and to grab her ankles. Amy assumed the position without the slightest difficulty. She remained very flexible, to her husband's continual delight. (Yes, they knew what a "Viennese oyster" was. Delicious, that's what.)

Jeff took up his position behind and to the left, but decided to stop and enjoy the view for a moment. Among other charms, Amy was displaying a very red bottom. The tears still flowed, not of external pain but of catharsis, of the relieving of internal pain. This spanking would hurt like nothing had since she had been married, but she knew she would feel the better for it. Suddenly it was no longer an erotic game, but a real punishment. Remembering her last paddling, she was suddenly a little scared. But Amy was game to see it through, and held her upside-down position. Yes, there was a whole different set of dynamics in play this time.

Jeff eventually took up *his* position and gave his wife a solid swat. Amy leaped upright, grabbing her bottom. Jeff was wondering why he hadn't been using the paddle to start with. It certainly seemed to do the job, without hurting his hand so much. Amy returned to her sharply bent-over position.

Jeff struck again, right at the base of her bottom. Crack! Amy leaped up again to grab her back side with a squeal. Jeff found this most interesting but decided it was probably a bit severe. There were times to ignore his wife's tears, and there were times her feelings needed to be noticed. This was now a time to notice the tears. These were tears of sorrow, flowing copiously. She had not cried like this through her earlier spanking, even though it should have hurt worse.

Still, Jeff sensed it would be a mistake to completely stop the punishment at this point. Rather, he would try a different approach. Amy had to feel punished with a spanking, or all would be for naught.

Jeff sat the paddle down on the sofa and asked his wife to help him carry it to the center of the room, away from the wall. Amy had almost stopped crying now. She was game for more, and knew she deserved it, but was not sure that she needed it. But she was trusting Jeff's judgment; he seemed to have something specific in mind. With two swats, he seemed to be done punishing her for the manipulation. A mere two swats, even with the paddle, was unprecedented. But they seemed to have struck more deeply than mere skin and muscle (and, yes, a fat cell or two).

Jeff held Amy tightly, both of them standing. The tears finally stopped rolling down her cheeks. "I think you still need to be paddled. But if you want me to stop, this time, just say so." Amy nodded. She was mentally shifting gears, preparing herself for a spanking.

Amy stood along the back of the sofa and bent over to the seat cushion. By bending her knees a bit, she was laying on the back of the sofa with her bottom suspended invitingly. Jeff asked her to spread her feet apart until she could lay on the sofa back with her knees straight. He then had her bend over as sharply as she could, grabbing onto the front of the sofa to hold herself down. Jeff couldn't resist running his hands along her, exploring and tickling slightly. Amy giggled and said a paddling would be kinder. ("Good," Jeff thought to himself. They were back to the usual byplay.)

Jeff began to paddle his wife rather far gently, low down on her back side. This approach seemed to produce a somewhat different sensation. Jeff gave her five identical swats, but they seemed to do little more than arouse his wife to a higher pitch. When Jeff inquired of his wife, she admitted as much. Yes, then, this approach seemed right for the moment. Jeff spanked her five more times with the paddle, gradually increasing in intensity.

Amy started to cry again, but she raised no complaint. She seemed lost in the paddling. Jeff began to spank ever-so-slightly harder, and a bit more slowly. Ten more strokes brought Amy to her crisis point. Jeff stopped as Amy jerked her knees together and shuddered in orgasm, bent over the couch.

The spanking was over, but Jeff kept his wife occupied, bent over the couch, for quite a while longer. He had taken her from behind after a spanking before, but never draped across the back of the couch. With or without the spanking, they would have to try that again!

Not a week had passed by before it was finally Jeff's turn. He received a speeding ticket with his wife there in the car. Once they resumed their journey, Amy informed her husband that there was a paddle waiting for him at home.

And so there was. After a little experimentation, they discovered the best results were achieved with Jeff across Amy's lap. No rule modifications proved to be necessary.

And so the newlyweds' balance of power was finally achieved. Both were subject to discipline at need, but the "rules" established parameters and limits. Discipline only happened in play (even for "real" offenses)--if one or the other did not care to play the game, that person need only refuse to comply with the rules.

The "mind game" aspect was as stimulating to both of them as the physical aspects. They were both constantly conspiring with each other to get around the rules or invent another one at need (to the other's distress). Of course, invented rules would generally entrap the inventor soon thereafter--the victim made sure of it. (Both Jeff and Amy found the "Calvin and Hobbes" comic strip a great inspiration in this regard.) And Amy's first paddling (by Jeff) had established the limit of the mind game--manipulation could fairly be taken so far, and no further. Anything beyond was a subject for true

remorse, whether or not it was it was underscored with a paddling.

But to this point, a great mystery remained. Jeff and Amy had kept secret the results of opening the mysterious wedding presents because they had wanted Tom and Barbara to roast with curiosity. But at the same time, they were intensely curious about what games *they* might have been playing all along. Amy had never had a clue before she married, and the nature of those presents was certainly suggestive.