"Long, hard, often and bare," my wife Melissa chortles, "That's how your plump rump's intended to be spanked; Mother Nature knows how undisciplined males are, so she designed masculine derrieres that can absorb plenty of punishment from your womenfolk."

That's been her refrain since we started practicing the Spenser Spanking Plan within our marriage, one I endure hearing because I've been powerless to disprove it. I've also endured the multitude of marital bare-assed paddywhackings that have accompanied those words.

"Now?" I ask resignedly.

"We'll use the bedtime variant," she clucks, "Since your misbehavior was quite childish."

It's an addition to the original Plan, one I accepted because I believed that being smacked with her hairbrush while bent pajama- bottoms-down over Melissa's knee would hurt less than the Plan's "official" punishment for husbands, a nude paddling while lying prone on the bed. However, the impact of her maple brush's smooth back somehow stings my exposed posterior no less than that of the "official" poplar paddle while the over-the-knee position is quite humbling to me-of which she's fully aware.

When we implemented the Plan, upon finding a faded original copy between two leatherbound volumes in her great-grandmother's bookcase, each of us listed behaviors of the other that we found offensive or annoying. I was stunned that her list tripled the length of mine, then over the following months I became dismayed by my inability to eliminate many of those actions while Melissa seemingly had little trouble refraining from the behaviors on my list. As a result, I've received around ninety-five percent of the chastisements administered within our marriage and my loving spouse has made each corrective session a memorable one--tonight will clearly be no different.

Finally the waiting is over, I'm standing before her seated, negligee-clad form as her fingers insert themselves under my pajama- bottoms waistband; with a downward motion she bares my behind, then guides me face-down across her broad lap. I'm dreading my imminent intensive discipline, otherwise the contact with her bare thighs would be pleasant.

Although this bare-bottom blistering is supposed to be a silent affair, Melissa mixes scolding with commentary about how severely she's planning on smacking me while patting my quivering naked nates with the spanking brush's back. Her body tenses as she raises her hard- hitting implement, with an energetic swat to my right buttcheek-WHACK!! -the punishment begins.

True to her word, my lifemate makes the "ass-whupping" an extremely emphatic chastisement. I'm kicking, squirming, howling and sobbing throughout its extended duration, afterward I'm being hugged and comforted by my marital disciplinarian; my backside feels enflamed by the fires of Hell.

Surprisingly, she disrobes and hands me the hairbrush. "Request spanking, sweetie, let's switch positions." She giggles at my dumbstruck expression. "You need to give me a walloping for a change, use the brush even though the rules say only barehanded spankings for wives."

Melissa always gives me exactly what I need, even when it's a crack at her own delectable derriere. What a wonderful woman!