Gentlemen - Be Patient

Hi Aunt Kay

Thought you may consider the following for Real People.

A year ago, I sent off for the DWC manuals and one morning got the courage to introduce them to my wife and asked her to read them. She was amazed at the content and agreed that it may be a way for us to consider living. Virtually nothing changed immediately, life just went. I had read the husbands manual and began following Kay’s advice. Attitudes and respect for each other seemed to kind of strengthen and then one day after about six months we arrived home from a shopping trip, and I heard the words "Do you want a spanking now or later?" This was a total surprise, we had lightly spanked each other during sex but more about that part later.

I of course said now and was sent upstairs with the instruction to remove my pants etc. Grabbing the bull by the horns I placed a chair in the center of the bedroom and bent myself over it, quivering in anticipation. After a short while my wife proceeds into the bedroom and as per Kay’s manual begins to scold me for impatience while shopping etc. and that she would now fulfill my wishes to be punished but only on her terms. At this point she got our small paddle out and began to vent her frustrations on my lower cheeks!!

Things then went quietly again for a few months, the topic came up in conversation and I continued to live by the advice in Kay’s manual. During one conversation I explained my inner most thoughts on the subject, my main thought was that spanking for punishment seemed to be clouding our sex life and should be separated from it both mentally and physically. Mentally I managed this and our love making became much more intense and intimate, my wife obviously noticed this and enjoyed it, she asked how I was doing without regular spankings and I explained my frustrations and underlined the kind of mental cleansing it seemed to give me when and if it happened.

This was the turning point, we have subsequently bought a cane, and I am now spanked about once every two weeks or whenever she feels like it. That is the key Gentlemen, patience and realizing it is when SHE feels like it and above all do not complain about "miss hits" they are painful, but she has to practice and you volunteered to be the target.

Spankings for us now are part of life and have helped bond a much closer and more intimate marriage. Today they take the following form:

"Please remove your clothes right now here in front of me and then go upstairs and lay face down on the bed." I follow her instructions to the letter, and there I lay twitching in anticipation and worry. Finally, she will come up the stairs and begin to tell me in no uncertain terms why I am to be punished, she will then indicate approximate strokes. This morning it was 24 with the strap to be followed by 18 with the cane, "Oh, and no warmup dear, this is going to hurt because it should."

With that she strolled over to the cupboard and removed the implements to be used, laying them on the bed in front of me. “Raise your hips dear, let's bolster up the target area a bit with this pillow.” By now I am a nervous wreck. "I do not want to hear a sound while I use the strap, when I use the cane you will count - understand ?" With that and before I could answer the first stroke with the strap landed flush with a resounding thwack. The next 23 were just as vicious and my rear end was on fire. Expecting the cane, I was surprised when she went downstairs, this had never happened before. After a few minutes I dressed and followed to make sure she was OK, I found her in the kitchen smoking and making a coffee, when she saw me, she went crazy. "Who the hell told you to get off the bed?" I was then marched upstairs and put in position again. " What made you think I was finished? I told you you were getting the cane and getting the cane you are, if I want a break I'll have one - you stay put and do not move in future!"

With that my caning began with me counting like the good boy I am, after 18 all went quiet. "Right, stand up and bend over the end of the bed. I am giving you 6 more for using your initiative and getting up before, instead of following instructions." Thinking this would never end and now already red raw, I of course complied. What followed were the 6 severest strokes I have yet received the accuracy of which was stunning.

After it is over I make coffee, still nude so she can watch the welts develop, we hug, I thank her for her understanding and out bond is increased.

Anyway, Kay that’s about it. It has been a long road and your kindness in answering my emails a year ago has been appreciated. We really are now a DWC couple!!

Mrs. Holes Special School Discipline

I think all men, with a need for maternal discipline, have childhood memories if some incident or series of incidents that made being spanked by a woman such a poignant need for the rest of their lives. For me it was my early seventies first grade teacher, Mrs. Holes. She was a very sweet woman--tall, with a shapely figure and dressed all winter in one long, swanky sweater or another, jeans, and chic boots. She'd also wear a long gypsy necklace gifted to her from her Italian grandmother. I'd see her get out of her VW Bug in the morning and wind and jangle her own hippie path down the parking lot to the school entrance. She looked like that Seuss character in The Cat in the Hat.

We loved her because she'd kneel to talk to each of us individually at some point in each period of the day. She’d look warmly into the little boy or girl's eyes while he or she awkwardly recited the alphabet. It provided a cocoon of intimacy and caring that would send my heart racing in her presence when my turn came. I remember trying mightily once with some simple arithmetic problems in order to please her. I had gotten everything backwards, but she just smiled and held my wrist lightly with her hand. I nearly fainted in a swoon.

Mrs. Holes would also discipline us with same loving care. I remember she often sent one naughty boy or other to stand in the corner. She would resume teaching the class, but keep a close eye on the chastised youngster to make sure he or she, usually he, didn't move an inch. If the boy moved slightly, she'd sigh and move over, adjusting his head so his nose was firmly in the corner and his eyes staring directly into the monotonous prism. When the punishment was over, she would escort the miscreant youngster back to his desk. He would always look drained, weak and hesitant from the experience.

Another day, a particularly rowdy boy, who disregarded her three times, was actually taken by Mrs. Holes into her little office sequester in the front of the class and spanked him. We were all straight as a pin behind our desks. It was a relatively brief, albeit, quite brisk, spanking and we didn't hear a sound from the boy. But when they emerged and she helped him to his desk, we could all see he was crying in the quiet manner boys have in such situations. She retrieved a Kleenex from her desk and held it to his nose. He blew and she deposited it into her wastepaper basket. Two weeks later that same boy's mother died in a car accident. The faculty was looking for Mrs. Holes desperately because no one wanted to be the bad messenger. Her face blanched at the news and then she took him by the hand into her office to tell him the sad news. I got out of my desk and peaked. She was rocking the bawling, frightened youngster pressed to her breast.

The first time she disciplined me I was with a friend kicking a soccer ball against the wall of the school, an explicitly forbidden activity. I don't know why I did this. I guess I felt loose and limber. Or maybe I just wanted her to discipline me. A whistle blew sharply and it turned my head right around. It was Mrs. Holes! The other boy kept kicking the ball against the wall. She walked straight up to us; only she didn't jangle and groove this time. She was very angry, flat-footed and fast. She was wearing a very long, purple scarf with stars and crazy smiling moons. My friend was put in one corner of the building, and then she came back to me and escorted me to the other end. She put me right into that corner. She adjusted my head, scolding all the while.

"You're usually such a sweet boy. How could you do such a thing, Carl? I'm very disappointed in you. If I were your mother, I'd give you a good spanking and send you to bed without supper," She was kneeling, making sure my posture was perfect. I love you, but discipline is the highest form of love and that form of love is required this instant. "Now, don't move an inch. You can at least be well behaved when I'm punishing you! Think about what a bad boy you've been and how you've disappointed me." She moved away a distance to watch us both.

I thought about how I'd disappointed Mrs. Holes with my face to the wall. My muscles ached. My eyes watered. I felt shame, and then I felt I was in some void, falling. I moved an inch. Mrs. Holes was there in an instant.

"You moved, dear. Do you want to stay after school and stand in the corner?" She repositioned me. The remainder of those 40 minutes felt like an eternity. My head and eyes were hot despite the unforgiving winter wind. I began to feel myself falling in the void again. What if Mrs. Hole didn't love me anymore? -- Falling, falling, falling. Time had stopped. I felt very strange and began to cry. The tears scalded. I felt Mrs. Holes' presence behind me disappear. First she released the other boy, but I wasn't aware of it. When she reached me she knelt and was startled when she saw my tear-stained face. "You're crying." She looked into my eyes with her beautiful, doe eyes, now all love and forgiveness. She pulled my wet face to her breasts. It felt lovely. I cried louder and she hugged me very close. Her sweater was soft and downy. She smelled of vanilla.

"I should've known, Carl, that you would've let all sorts fears loose in the corner. You're too sensitive for that kind of discipline. I'm sorry. I should've taken you into my office after school and where we'd have some privacy--spanked you, and been done with it. I've wanted to have a heart to heart with you for months. But here we are." Her earrings tinkled in her mild apology.

It had begun to snow and the flakes were melting into her hair and on my face. She was still kneeling before me. Her warm coat enveloped us both, flapping in the arctic wind. "Have you learned your lesson?" I nodded. Like so many kids I went from hell to heaven in seconds flat. "That's the important thing. I think you were naughty because you wanted my attention. She clasped my shoulders with her hands and looked soulfully into my eyes. Her eyes were two lovely ponds after a New England snow. Your parents are getting divorced?" I grasped her gypsy necklace in a panic. My mother, in fact, had moved out the day before. A large swirling snowflake touched my right eyelash and melted into my fresh tears.

She held me close again. "We shall be special friends, Carl. I know how divorce can turn a boy's world upside down. You can help me clean up each afternoon and we can talk. But if you're naughty again, you will be disciplined. In these difficult times for you, I'm going to make sure that you always know I care enough to discipline you. You'll feel happier with the limits I set for you. In the event you misbehave, corner time will only be for twenty minutes after class. I'll touch your shoulder from time to time, so you won't have scary thoughts of abandonment. She kissed my cheek. From a distance, a classmate told me we looked like just her kneeling with her coat extended in a circumstance, talking down into her self-made hole. Then he saw my little boots and knew we were two individuals in conference.

The divorce was hard, and Mrs. Holes often escorted me into the corner. Although I became anxious, she stayed nearby and frequently touched my shoulder reassuringly. Although she often gave my bottom a little spank when my corner time was over, she never put me over her lap for a proper spanking. I guess rumors had reached her of my father's violence toward my mother on a couple of occasions. And yet I never felt more loved. The last day of school, she plugged in her phonograph and played the Elton John hit, "Crocodile Rock." The class went nuts.

I stayed in touch with Mrs. Holes through the years. We exchanged Xmas cards and I visited her a few times. When I started college, she sent me a card congratulating me. "Study Carl, I don't want to have to come over there and spank you." The words thrilled me. If only...

The last time I saw her, we met for the Fourth of July at her townhouse where she and her husband lived by a lake. This was in Pennsylvania and Mennonite country. Instead of fireworks, the people would line the crazy eight lake with candles. It was very beautiful. I rented a rowboat on the other shore and paddled across the water to her dock where she was waiting. She waved at me. She was so beautiful--tall, cascading hair, some of it gray now. But her lovely eyes were radiant.

We sat on the dock and talked, then she took me in her house. Her husband was doing his chores. I looked around. She had thousands of books. D.H Lawrence, Simone De Beauvoir, Hanna Arendt. She had a Masters in English. She patted the seat next to her on the couch. "Why doesn't your husband join us?" I asked. "Because he loves me so much, he volunteered to clean up for your visit."

Silence.

She toyed with her necklace and arched her foot. It was a very cozy townhouse. Gustav Klimt paintings adorned the walls. A cello in its open case leaned against the wall in the ocher light of the burning twilight. A Grandma Moses winterlude painting met my eyes halfway up the stairs: the one with children skating and making snowmen.

Mrs. Holes looked at me. “I want to tell you something very personal, Carl. When I was 12, I had a dream. I was a holy woman in a sacred place and there was a long procession of men before me. They would kneel and place their heads upon my lap one by one, frequently with their ear to my womb. I would urge them to confess their sins, stroking their hair. Some of them had done awful things and it took a long time for them to tell me. I would tuck their faces up and look in their eyes. They'd finally tell me what they did between sobs, even wailing. When they finished and I was convinced they were truly sorry, I would forgive them and bless them with water from a clay pitcher. It was a beautiful dream. When I awoke, my head was humming. I knew my mission in life."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Carl, do you know why my husband and I are so close? It's because I discipline him. It used to be for when he was naughty. But I still spank him every Saturday morning. It's a very loving spanking--and thorough. His bottom is bright pink and very warm when I'm finished and my hand is tingling. But it's not punishment. It helps Rick feel more bonded to me. There's no loneliness, only our intimacy and the world." Rick crossed my vision with a bucket of suds and a floor brush. He looked very happy. She resumed. "After the spanking, he gets 20 minutes in the corner. The corner always bothered him. So, periodically I touch his shoulder to--reassure him that he hasn't been abandoned. That he's not going to fall into an abyss of wantonness and isolation." She touched my arm and smiled. "I think you understand that feeling, Carl... Anyway, after the discipline, he runs off to the florist to buy me flowers: different arrangement each week. Once, he arrived at the florist and found it shuttered. There had been a cold snap and someone had left the window open and the flowers had died. So Rick brought a barrel of peaches into the bedroom.

Every day he tries in some way to make me feel special and unique. His heart melts constantly when I'm near. I can feel it. Even our pulse is in synchrony: just like a baby in his or her mother's womb. But remember, a spanking marriage may initially be a kind of regression, but it becomes a bridge to maturity and consideration. Do you how wonderful that is for a woman? A mature man who is always mindful of her needs?"

"Yes." I stammered.

"Carl, you must find a woman who will spank you. One who will give you limits and help you find that organic connection to life that a man feels when he has properly loved a woman and submitted to her discipline. I think you felt it in 1st grade... " Many boys like you were in my first-grade classes. They'd look up me up, confused and shaken after a divorce, even a stint in jail for one. They're always like a sea tossed ship and suddenly, I give them the insight to find the correct woman. In a year or less, they're anchored over a caring woman's lap having their bottoms spanked by an excellent woman until they weep. Everything is safe and warm again. I've helped dozens of my former students find a woman who will bond to them in that special way of hugs and discipline and trust. They bring back flowers to their wives after their Saturday morning spankings and try to brighten her morning. I can help you, Carl. When you make love to a disciplinary wife, it's the sweetest feeling--like the ebb and flow of the tide. You're both two different and complementary aspects of the same elemental movement."

Bob Dylan's endless love song/dirge to the love of his life, Sara, "Sad Eyed Lady of the Low Lands" was playing on her turntable. Mrs. Holes' lovely crossed leg slowly swung and her sandal slapped her heel while the ceiling fan above whirred. I was paralyzed and embarrassed by our talk.

Six months later, I was in a bar pounding beers with my newspaper colleagues I work with. I was thumbing through the paper. I was with the tough guys from my paper--the crime desk. They have a lot of macho affectations. One fellow was droning on about his hunting trip. He said: "I got nothing all weekend. Every time I came upon a glade and saw a deer, she'd hear my breathing, or a snapped twig and dart off. When I was driving home, guess what? I saw the most beautiful deer eating grass just yards from the New Jersey Turnpike. I eased my truck to a stop and gently climbed out of my car. Now get this, this Bambi looked over and actually moved closer to me, looking at me with those trusting eyes. Shot her through the heart. She was dead before she hit the ground. I strapped her to the top of the truck and drove off. Guys in SUVs were honking and giving me the thumbs up as they passed. I felt like Conan the Barbarian!"

I tried to ignore him. Then this caught my eye in the obituaries. My blood turned to ice. "Mrs. Audrey Holes...1st grade teacher from... philanthropist… died.... aneurysm...leaving behind her husband of thirty years..."

I felt like I was shot through the heart. I left the bar--"Where's he going?" one of my manly shouted. "We've got to toughen him up--crying about a deer."

I went out into the frigid winds like someone mortally wounded. I wended down the street. The bleak wind howled, carrying me a few steps, seemingly. "Oh, the wind in my heart," I sobbed. I felt I was falling and falling without restraint. I heard the radio someplace far off play the latest news about Iraq. I passed the SUVs along the curb and cursed them. What would I do? I dated lots of women my age, but only she understood me: my dear, dear friend. And now this sweet angel was gone. Perhaps she was lifted through some timeless light and commended to heaven. I remembered our talk by the water with the flotillas of lit candles on the lake. I remembered her dream where she blessed the lost men. Now, her time, the early seventies felt impossibly distant. Innocence was so long ago: long before SUVs, long before unremitting wars, the greed and the materialism. It was a long, long time ago--long before my star of Bethlehem was torn down.

But I found my shooting star. I sat behind her on the bed moments ago and brushed her long, auburn hair thinking of how I could make her happy the next day. Mrs. Holes, with her exquisite sensitivity was the conduit that enabled me to eventually see the holiness in all women. That was the key to my marrying this wonderful woman. Tomorrow morning is Saturday and she will spank my bare bottom over her lap, probably to punish me for some transgression, for I am still a naughty boy. She'll have tears standing in her eyes, as I will also when I stand before her in the immediate aftermath of the spanking. They will tears of joy. I'll be sent to the corner to reflect on my naughty behavior. When this happens she will stay in the bedroom with me and touch my shoulder from time to time to reassure me.

The Cane Scrutinizes Best

Dane was given a good thrashing two weeks ago. Here is how it happened.

Dane wanted to have a pool party for some of his friends and co-workers at our house this summer. After we decided on a date, I mentioned to him that we should make sure we get the invitations out in plenty of time, it being vacation season. He merely wanted to post an invitation on the board at work to take care of any co-workers, but I told him that the best way would be to send individual invitations to everyone. He agreed. When the time came to fill out the invitations he was expecting me to be the one to do it. I told him that it was his party and he should write them out himself. I did sit down with him and gave him some well-meaning suggestions to help him out and he told me that if all I was going to do was scrutinize the invitation process that I could just go upstairs and read my book.

I was furious! I did go upstairs to read but not before I let him know that I was quite upset that he spoke to me in such a rude fashion. He wrote out the rest of the invitations and spent the rest of the evening downstairs avoiding me.

I went to sleep and Dane came to bed later. I have to be at work at 6:30 am so I usually get up around 5:00 am and my husband and I make love. Dane always looks forward to our morning love making but this morning I informed him that the day was going to start with him getting his bottom blistered. He gave me a pitiful and apologetic look, and I sent him on his way to the basement.

I got out of bed and proceeded to get ready for work. I showered, washed my hair, put on my makeup and got dressed in my business clothes for work. In the meantime, Dane waited for his punishment in the basement.

I did not have a great amount of time that morning for a long session, but I still wanted him to be very sorry that he spoke to me so rudely. I took the cane out of my closet and headed for the basement.

Dane knows what position I want him in depending on the spanking implement. If I choose the paddle, he is required to take down his pants and underwear and bend over with his hands on his knees like a naughty little boy. If I bring the strap, he is to remove his pants, lay over a table grabbing the other side of the tabletop. This leaves his bare behind a perfect target for a thrashing. When my husband saw me on the stairs with the cane in my hand, his shoulders drooped and he let out a knowing sigh. Without my saying a word, he moved the oak chair to the middle of the room and dutifully bent himself over the back grasping the front legs of the chair down low. He was still naked from sleeping so it wasn't necessary for him to remove any clothing.

I walked behind him and told him he was to receive 24 strokes. He let out a small groan, but he knows better than to complain. I lectured him briefly about his rudeness while I swung the cane behind him making that dreaded whooshing sound. I landed the first stroke across the middle of his behind and Dane squirmed, but he knows not to lose position no matter how much it hurts. The second stroke followed a little below the first one leaving two nice red lines that were sure to be raised welts in a moment. At this point I warned him to remain still because I did not have a lot of time and then proceeded to give him the rest of his punishment in a rhythmic fashion with only a couple of seconds in between strokes. As a rule, I try not to strike him in the same spot more than once but when giving 24 strokes it is almost unavoidable. I worked his behind from top to bottom and even gave him a few on his thighs right below his cheeks. He was crying hard by the time I finished and there were a few lines that had broken the skin. I then had him apologize and gave him the cane to put away. He scampered up the stairs and I went on to work.

I got flowers from my husband that afternoon in my office with a nice note of apology. I smiled to myself knowing that he would be on his best behavior for a long time.

Pam

Thanks Mrs. Jones

I wanted to relate an event from my childhood that only just recently have I come to believe may be central to my love of maternal style discipline and the fulfillment that I have found as a DWC husband.

In the Deep South where I grew up, spankings were considered the accepted and natural way to discipline children. However, my father passed when I was very young and I don't recall him ever spanking me. My mom did spank me occasionally with a switch, fly swatter, or belt but, in retrospect, they were never particularly effective - although I'm sure I might have felt differently at the time. But they were not a real regular event, and I could usually beg, plead, and cry my way out of them - or at least shorten it to just a few whacks. My memories of my mom are certainly not as that of a disciplinarian.

When I was ten, I went to live at a church home for a year while certain family matters were being resolved. At that age, I had quite a temper and had never been effectively disciplined and was, by and large, out of control. My house-Mom there was one Mrs. Jones, an English lady. She was in her forties, quite trim and fit, and quite proper - and quite strict. Not liking her "strictness", the very first day I challenged her, much to my sorrow. With no hesitation, she summoned another house-Mom to come to my room and to bring the paddle. I started to run, but Mrs. Jones held me until the other house-Mom arrived moments later - at which point the two house-moms held me down over the edge of the bed while Mrs. Jones gave me a paddling I would never forget. After a few whacks, I was crying and pleading and begging - probably expecting this to end the spanking as it always had with my mom. But it did not work with Mrs. Jones. She ignored my pleas and made some remark like "Oh, I'm sure you won't do it again!" and kept right on paddling. I didn't count but there must have been at least 50 or so whacks before she was satisfied that I had learned my lesson. I was one very sorry and repentant young man when she was done with me!

It was the last childhood spanking I ever received. I had indeed learned my lesson and made it a definite point to be a model citizen for the rest of my stay at the church home. I certainly never dared to cross Mrs. Jones again! And it carried over. I returned home to live with my widowed mom and widowed aunt, but was from that point on, a very responsible young man who finished high school and college with honors.

I won't presume to make a statement on the morality or correctness of her actions or of corporal punishment of children in general. But - Mrs. Jones certainly made a change in my life!

Oddly, although a strong childhood memory, I never attributed my desire to be spanked by a strong loving woman with this event until recently -- when some private correspondence really brought this to light for me.

It was in the sexuality of adolescence that the thought of being soundly spanked by an assertive woman began to appeal to me, but I now believe that the erotic overtones of this desire always masked the fact that it all began with that one fateful afternoon when Mrs. Jones put me over the edge of the bed for a spanking 

Katrina's Journey

Dear Aunt Kay,

We are an Australian couple in our late 40's and married over 30 years. Jack has always been the dominant partner, as a strong-minded male, and I fairly submissive. Over the years we have had lots of good times, but there has always been an undercurrent of nervousness and almost fear on my part in case Jack would have a temper tantrum and insist on getting his way. He was very good at manipulating arguments and overpowering me into agreeing that all the problems were my fault. Also, I was never seemingly able to live up to his expectations concerning my clothes, make-up, hairstyle and sexual activities, so I felt inadequate and he was constantly disappointed.

We had dabbled a little in spanking as a turn on, and now that our children have left home, have more freedom to explore this. Jack was checking websites for ideas and stumbled on DWC. At first it seemed like a bit of fun and he got me to have a look. Then he thought it would be fun to contrive some situations to make me angry and give him a spanking. He started to leave the toilet seat up (something that he never did before) so it had not been an issue in this household. I felt extremely annoyed but didn't feel like spanking him for it. It just seemed so stupid to start doing something to annoy me when there were so many things in our relationship that weren't very good.

Somehow this fact came into our realization, and we began to talk about our relationship and some of the difficult areas. (We're still not exactly sure how that piece of progress occurred). Suddenly I felt it was safe to raise issues that I saw as problems and amazingly we began discussing things calmly and with each of us giving their point of view. Lots of tears were shed; mine in relief and his in regret and shame for the way the way he had been acting for so long.

From then on, we began recording any matter that emerged that has been a problem. Over three months, this has resulted in 91 entries to date - ranging from very minor to very major problems and these are being dealt with through regular discipline sessions. Some more minor and related issues may be grouped together for one session and then ticked off. However the list keeps growing as we both recall situations, which have not been good, and Jack also confesses many things - not just the deeds but also his attitude at the time. Frequently he has revealed that he has been aware of putting me down and berating me for the way I have done something. On the other hand, if he ever made a mistake, he would brush it off as unimportant. Also, other inappropriate behaviour and attitudes are being recorded in the "red book" and are being dealt with.

This has turned our whole relationship around. I had at times wondered whether I could stay in the marriage, but I knew that if I made a move to leave it would have all been put on me as my fault and I doubt that I had the inner strength to go through with it.

Now, thanks to Aunt Kay, we have a way forward, a way to deal with any problems that arise - past or future - and I now feel emotionally safe. I have a very attentive, thoughtful husband who does housework and loves doing nice things for me.

Jack was not a bad person by any means, just dominating, arrogant and expecting to get his own way. Even his generosity had been part of the manipulation of me to get what he wanted by emotional blackmail. He is now much softer and more in touch with his emotions and creativity. I now feel much more at ease and find it easier to take more interest in clothes, make-up, jewelry and sex and he's learned that by respecting me as a person, caring for me and treating me well, he's now got the wife and relationship he'd actually craved.

We don't know anyone we would feel comfortable talking to about this, so it is definitely our secret. Also, I still have some concerns about the physical results of the discipline. The bruises and welts that are present for a few days worry me in case anyone should see them. The emotional results however far outweigh these concerns, as they have had such a wonderful effect on our relationship. Your motto stating that "the more you spank him, the more he loves you" is certainly true for us!

We are really excited by this journey that we're on and realize that it now has to be an ongoing process to which we both need to remain fully committed.

So, thank you Aunt Kay for your wise words and encouragement.

Kind regards,

Katrina

Something to Cry About

"If you don't quit that crying, I'll give you something to cry about."

Most of us heard that more than once and learned what it meant at least early in our childhoods. This, along with, "You won't sit for a week," and "Do you need a trip to the woodshed?" or "You'll be eating off the mantle," were all colloquial ways of saying, without saying directly, "Keep that up and you are going to get a spanking!"

But the expression "something to cry about" has a deeper message imbedded in it: a subtext which is "I love you deeply. You have no right to feel sorry for yourself, and it you don't get over this funk, I am going to do it for you."

When a husband starts acting "depressed," he can be very much like a fussy child and should be treated as such. Obviously, some depression is totally situational, such as when people face illness, death of a loved one, severe financial reversals, or other real-life problems that all of us must cope with at times. And some people have lifelong problems with depression. One spanking isn't going to fix those underlying issues.

But some grown men just get too absorbed in themselves, and decide to have a "pity party," where they become moody and taciturn, and make others around them feel bad. The truth of the matter is that this behavior often is just plain selfish.

This type of depression can properly be viewed as anger, which is directed inward at the self, rather than anger that is manifested by directly aggressive behavior towards others. And it can be equally disturbing to others who live with trying to relate to the depressed person.

Compare the husband who lashes out verbally at his wife with the "whiney-hiney" husband, moping around the house feeling sorry for himself. The brooding husband is in fact doing the same thing, except that he is expressing his anger in a less honest and forthright manner. But the result is the same: He is taking out his own unhappiness on those around him, and making them carry his burden. Recognizing that reality is the first step toward treating it effectively. A good hard paddling can put a quick end to a husband's moodiness, just as it works to end argumentative and disrespectful bickering, rebellion, and other acting out.

Of course, many men are just unmotivated or weak in character, and basically wanting someone else to care for them, to give an encouraging "pep talk," like a mommy might provide. Fine enough. But that isn't likely to work. In fact, coddling him further will only give him permission to keep sinking, and to take the whole family down with him.

So go ahead and accept the fact that his acting out by being "depressed" is really just a thinly veiled plea for you to tan his backside soundly. Recall yet another old-fashioned expression, "You are asking for it." He is. So go ahead and give it to him, and give it to him good. Embrace his emotional need at this difficult time, and be very strict. Do this because you love him, and because this is what he needs. He doesn't like his self-indulgent moping and brooding either, and he will be grateful if you put an end to it.

Start off with a paddle or a strap, and lay into his bare backside with purpose. Scold him and be sure he knows that you will not tolerate his self-indulgent sulking. Put a hot bright glow on his rear and a stream of tears on his face.

But don't stop until his attitude is completely adjusted. Break out the cane, restrain him if necessary, and be sure to make him dance and howl. Deliver an inspirational message with each hard swat:

1. I love you

2. Every day on earth is a blessing

3. It is your duty to live your life to be happy and to serve others

4. I am not going to permit you to sink into sadness

After at least 4 whistling strokes, give a stern verbal admonition: "We are going to repeat this session exactly one week from today. If I haven't seen MAJOR improvement I am going to step up your punishment every week until I do."

Then, be resolute, psyche yourself up to your duty, and finish with a few more very hard cane strokes. Remember your mission is to give him "Something to cry about," so aim your cane diagonally, to slice across the existing stripes. Make it clear that a grumpy boy can expect to sit on a very tender bottom.

Nurturing and imposing necessary discipline are just flip sides of the same coin. Traditional maternal medicine is most effective when administered in strong doses. Giving him "something to cry about" will be good for his soul, and will bring improvement to his attitude.

P. S. I got my 'something to cry about' treatment last week!

Sincerely,

A Now Cheerful Husband

Dick's Lifestyle

Dear Aunt Kay,

I would like very much to tell other people about our lifestyle. My wife and I have been into spanking for 12 yrs. now.  She has 9 implements she uses on me when called for. 

We have looked at spanking contracts but decided not to do that as a contract is only as good as your word.  My wife believes in the DWC lifestyle but is not as restrictive as some wives are.  I have a few rules which are easy to follow; always respect her and her friends, help around the house, vacuum, I clear the table, I make the bed each morning, I can disagree with her but she has the last word.

My punishment spankings are far and few between. Once a week I get what she calls a maintenance spanking, where I feel all her spanking items, but not too hard. She believes I need these to remind me what I'm in for if I don't behave. 

We have a spanking bench, (and old one person piano bench) that is sometimes used, or I stand and bend over with my hands on my knees, or she will bend me over the end of the bed, or lay me on the bed with a rolled up blanket under my hips to bring my bottom up higher.  She does not use OTK, she feels she cannot get a good swing when I'm OTK.  When she does punish me she leaves me a crying mess and a very sore bottom.  The maintenance is bad enough, believe me.

Dick

What Goes Through His Mind

Dear Aunt Kay,

I have visited your site often and I want to share with you something that I really haven't found yet: what goes through a man's mind regarding a spanking.

I am an intelligent and fun gentleman, most of the time. However, sometimes my sarcastic humor goes a bit too far or I commit some other infraction. My girlfriend simply raises her index finger and gives me "that look" that lets dme know what's in store for me.  She doesn't say anything. Just raises her finger.

Immediately, my heart starts racing, my mouth goes very dry and I know I'm in trouble. Hanging in her pantry is a wooden paddle with holes and a thin leather strap. She turns and, regardless of where I am, leaves me. I can be standing in the garage, the backyard, the living room...it doesn't matter. I absolutely want to turn and run, but I don't.

The next thing I hear is, "John, will you come into the kitchen please?" I'm already clinching my teeth, balling my fists and my feet feel like lead as I walk into the kitchen. The mere sight of her standing there, paddle and strap in hand, sends my head spinning. 

"Follow me, please." And I walk behind her as she leads me upstairs to the bedroom.

The ritual is always the same and I dread it. Her calm demeanor as she tells me why she is going to spank me is in direct contrast to the hard beating of my heart. Believe me, there are lots of "Yes, Ma'am...I understand" (s) as she goes over every detail of my transgression.

She has me bend over and grab my ankles. I wait  for a bit and then I feel two hard (they really sting right through my trousers or jeans or whatever) swats. She asks me to take off a shoe and place it neatly in the closet. I'm back again and get two more and then I must take my other shoe and place it neatly next to the first.

She continues this procedure, two hard swats at a time, removing each article of clothing I am wearing. As I undress, and I feel the awful sting building in my bottom, my anxiety really grows. I know that very soon, I will feel those two hard swats on my bare bottom. It's difficult to describe it, but the psychological buildup of what is coming takes a very big toll on my entire being.

After the two on my bare bottom, she sends me to the corner. I am not allowed to rub out the sting and must stand there, hands at my sides, until she calls me out. My mind races, believe you me, when I'm in that corner. All I've gotten so far is a warmup.

I can't help myself. When she calls me out, I start apologizing like a school kid. She pays no mind. Her vanity stool is low to the floor, and I must kneel on it and then place my hands on the floor. You can imagine the position I am in and I'm almost shaking in anticipation.

I get the paddle again first. On my already sore bottom. I never know how long it will last. There is never any counting. Just swats on my poor bottom. My pleading does no good. the blood rushes to my head and the paddle lands again and again and I am feeling so sorry for myself. Throughout she reminds me why I'm being spanked and I make resolution not to repeat my mistake.

When she is finished with the paddle, she quickly picks up the strap and covers the entire lower curves of my bottom and very upper thighs. The strap burns like nothing else, and I am crying out as she goes to work on my most tender areas.

After she is satisfied that I've learned my lesson, I'm sent back to the corner. If I'm not moving quickly enough, I get a few more with the strap on my thighs. I feel so pitiful and embarrassed while I'm in the corner. I hear her go downstairs and I know she puts the paddle and strap back in place.

I am in the corner quite some time and when finally called out, I am required to join her in my PJs regardless of the time of day. When I do come down to meet her, the air has been cleared and I feel better. Of course, my bottom doesn't; it remains a reminder for several days of why I was spanked.

I share this with you because I want you to know what does, indeed, go through my mind. I am a 6'1", 190, athletic male. I am not a sissy. I am a good man that, occasionally needs to be reminded about manners or attitude or common courtesy.

Dear Paulette

Dear Paulette,

You have your hands full. I am glad to see you are stopping him from directing your spankings. That is what is called "topping from the bottom". Harry likes to do that to me too. Aunt Kay told Harry that he has to stop that! He is to accept my discipline and not complain that is it either too light or too severe. He and Jim are the spankees and we are the spankers! Please allow me to throw some observations out to you.   

The problem I see you having is that Jim wants to be spanked and spanked HARD (by the way they all want it hard). But if Jim wants it that hard and gets it, he might like it and you don't want him to because then he will start annoying you to get spankings. What I have learned is that I have to separate the kinds of spankings I give. The basic two types of spankings are punishment and erotic. If Jim finds your punishment spankings to be erotic, he will push your buttons to get one. So punishment spankings should be something he DOES NOT LIKE. They need to go on well after he is begging you to quit. Now with Harry I still give him "maintenance spankings" over my knee. I know that these are the kind HE DOES LIKE , so if he is good he gets one every week instead of a punishment spanking, which he DOES NOT LIKE. Harry loves the submissive feeling of being over my lap and the warm feel of a wood paddle on his rear. Harry does not like standing in the middle of the room with his hands over his head, standing on his toes, and being struck by the cane. So if Harry is good he still gets the spanking he wants but just in a completely different form. If Jim feels that if he is good you will stop spanking him then he will act up to get one and you don't want that. So you need to make a CLEAR distinction of the two types. If it gets real bad you may have to threaten not to spank him ever again if he keeps "pushing your buttons". But that is not something that should be a problem if you make the two clear distinctions and give both. By the way Aunt Kay told me that callouses will form quickly on the bottom if you spank daily which was what I was doing for a while. So now I spank only once a week to keep that to a minimum. Some guys have bottoms that can be spanked all day and they hardly feel a thing. You and I don't want that. So while I know it is necessary to give Harry a quick "attitude adjuster" right on the spot, I try to keep his main spankings to one per week. With the cane Harry says he can still feel it a few days later so he does not need reminded as often.   

Paulette, you and Jim seem like a wonderful couple and forgive me if I have stuck my nose in too far. I can tell you I love having a husband I can spank. He is much better than those husbands who try to act all macho and push their way though life. Our marriage has always been good but this is icing on the cake. We still date 4 to 5 times a week and make love constantly, and Harry is still very strong and very much my protector. The only difference is that now, when he becomes that occasional annoying little boy I can treat him like one and solve the problem quickly. I won't say that we never argue anymore it is just that Harry picks his words more carefully or he knows what will happen. Also I don't build up the resentment I used to. So we both let things go after discipline is over. He was bad. He was punished. It is over. Harry can not have a bad attitude after a spanking for that is in the contract that we both signed.   

As for the contract, I had talked to Jim about that a little and put some of that in my last email to him. You really need to use this to your benefit and put in it things that you really want him to change.  If he is going to get the spankings that he wants then you need to see things that you want like behavior changes. I have found that with Harry he REALLY wants to change his behavior and be the best husband he can be. With our contract he helped think up a lot of the items that were in the contract and I told Jim he should do the same for you. After a while I've notice that things become habit and he does them automatically now. For instance, he always opens my car door for me.  He always picks up the towels on the floor of the bathroom after he showers now.  This is a two way street.  He gets what he wants (the spankings) but you also get benefits, actually lots of benefits L.O.L.  Not only is Harry better behaved but our sex life is wonderful.  It is like being on a second honeymoon.

Unexpected Developments

Hi,

I thought I would update the group on some unexpected developments that took place this past weekend.

We are fortunate enough to have a boat house about an hour's drive from our home. During last week we had about 5 inches of rain - the remnants of a storm and I thought we should check things out for property damage etc.

Turned out no damage done, but the lake was much higher than before and a lot of work to do - hauling out the boat and the dock - jobs usually left for October. I wasn't really in the mood for it. We had just been there last week, and I could have used this weekend to laze around. Not my idea of a Saturday afternoon.

As a result of being stressed and tired I got snippy, and for the first time in quite a while I started to take it out on Raquel. At one point she was looking for something in the storage room - admittedly a pretty cramped and plentifully stocked place. I got on to her about 'why couldn't she find it because she was the one who was looking for it?’ I then located the item - a can of weather proofing oil to put on the wood trim of her canoe - and presented it to her by asking 'there, what does this look like?’

I had probably only half buried me at that point, but then she discovered she couldn't get the lid off - glued on like rock. I then had to expend more time and energy prying the thing loose, while commenting about how it might be nice if she had done a decent jobof wiping the screw off cap and lid of the can before screwing it tight a year ago. Not a wise choice of words.

I could tell she was really steamed as she went out to do the canoe. I had other chores to do so I went my separate way.

Awhile later I went out to check how she was doing and ask about starting some preparations for dinner. My timing was good, as she was just wrapping up her canoe work. Showing me the lid to the wood preservative she icily asked 'So this is how you want it cleaned and closed up?' I replied 'Yes, I think that makes a lot more sense'. It was like I unwittingly gave her the intro line she needed, as she then told me 'Actually Dan, what's going to make sense right now is that you're going to unlock the boat house, go in, and prepare to be punished.'

To be honest, I was completely stunned. After several weeks of virtually NO reference to DWC - I thought perhaps the concept had died - here was Raquel, being more assertive than I have ever experienced before.

Unlike a great many of you, in our brief time with DWC we haven't done OTK. I knew that I was expected to strip and lie out on the double bed with the pillows available placed under my hips. What I wasn't sure about was what she planned to use as an implement, so I left my belt out thinking she would use that. Much better than that, Raquel had remembered that in the cottage was a paddle that has hung on a nail for many years.

It was actually a gag gift to my Mom, with stenciled lettering "Applied Psychology - Grip Handle Firmly - School Begins in September". A classic statement for how to deal with bored kids and too long a summer holiday. I never remember anyone being on the receiving end as a kid, forty plus years ago.

I have written in previous posts about some of the issues around 'how severe is severe?’ Well, I can now attest to having been challenged to go beyond that point of begging for the paddling to stop. I don't know if that was part of what was going on for Raquel or not - we haven't yet talked about that.

The lecture was brief - shorter than what Aunt Kay and more seasoned DWC folks would suggest I imagine - but the offence was made clear. The punishment began, and continued. There was very little warm up. Swats were delivered equally to each cheek and thoroughly. Most notable this time, multiple swats to the same area of the same cheek with rapid delivery. That, I believe, is the key piece which sent me over the edge - to that howling, blubbering, squirming/trying to stay still space that Raquel and I have both understood from readings we have done from DWC. But previously not something experienced. Previously not something I was sure if she even really understood.

I must confess dinner and the rest of the evening was a pretty subdued affair. I still struggle to be wholly grateful for what I have received, and I know that until I do there is a very important part missing. I know punishment is what needs to be done, but I still feel it's not really what I want to have done. But wanting is really not the issue is it? This is about me knowing the limits of my energies, accepting those limits and staying within them, and not taking out my inability to do so by being disrespectful to my wife.

Frankly I hope this doesn't happen again for some time. I am certainly more aware that, although Raquel hasn't said so, if I behave that way again, I am likely to be punished just as forcefully. Certainly being alone on our own and at the cottage set the stage for this to happen without teenage comings and goings to interfere. I realize in retrospect that the circumstances were probably instrumental in giving Raquel the opportunity she needed to exercise her authority as she did. But, I don't think being away from the cottage would stop her in future.

Dan

No Turning Back

Dear Aunt Kay,

My wife and I have been practicing this lifestyle for 6 years now.  My behavior, along with wife's skills, have much improved. The DWC lifestyle, as we both have found out is serious business and not something to be entered into on a whim nor is it to be taken lightly. Yet it is lots of fun, exciting. and adds a renewed spark to a marriage.

My advice to men who are considering asking their wives to enter this lifestyle is to think it through because there is no turning back. It is a commitment -- just like marriage. If you are a guy, like me, who is a spoiled little boy living inside a man’s body and your wife is a true dominant, you will keep the commitment and gain by it. But be warned you as a man will not, and I repeat NOT always like it, and may regret it sometimes, especially when that dominant side of her comes out and is fully unleashed. She will be beautiful though; she will be everything you ever dreamed of or wanted in a woman, everything you crave. But be sure you think it over carefully because hell hath no fury like an angry woman. Make no mistake about it. If you think DWC is going to be all fun and games all the time and your wife is going along with it just meet your needs alone, then you are only fooling yourself and you are going to be in for one very rude awakening indeed. It will change your marriage and your lives forever; you will be a better man because of it.

For Charlotte and me, it was exactly what we wanted and needed. For many years in our marriage, far too many in fact, my wife has put up with that spoiled child. I have, without even realizing it, manipulated my wife in subtle little ways to get my way all throughout our marriage. I behaved just like a spoiled child. I would stomp my feet and get what I wanted when I wanted it without even considering her needs and what she may have wanted. And if I am truthful, I must admit that even getting her to go along with the DWC lifestyle was my wish and my idea.

But thank goodness for the both of us she let me make that choice back then and thank goodness she saw the potential in it. At the time I didn't realize what I was really asking for, now I am glad I did so though and I don't ever regret asking for it nor do I have any desire to go back. I feel so much better about myself now and I know I am a better person now. As for my wife, it has been the best thing she could have ever done for herself and for our marriage.  Charlotte has her self-esteem back, she has become a woman liberated, she knows now more than ever and she has no doubts about herself. She is become strong and she can handle and do anything now. And she doesn't need to have a man to tell her what to do or how to live. It’s wonderful to see, its beautiful, she's beautiful, I love and respect her more now than ever in our marriage. Now when I say she doesn't need a man to tell her what to do, I don't mean she doesn't need me in her life. It's just now our love for each other is stronger and we know who we are and where we stand in our relationship. We both contribute - it's not one sided anymore.

It's not been an easy road to get here, for me sometimes; it's been very hard. Believe me it's no fun to feel strongly about something, to think you are right and then have your wife say no to you. She'll say, "No darling it's not going to be that way, it is going to be done this way and that's that. You don't have to like it but this is the way it is going to be. And when you stomp your feet about it, you won't get your way.  Instead you will only get scolded for being a brat and sent to the bed room and a very sore bottom." Oh yes, my advice to men is you had better be serious when you commit to this lifestyle because your wife is going take it serious and she is never going to go back to putting up with that spoiled child again. When I act like a child she treats me like a child, when I act like a man she respects me as a man, she loves me and I love her, pretty simple really. 

Yes, this DWC life is not for everybody, and it is not meant to be all fun and games nor one sided, it means a lot of work from both of you to make it work. It calls for lots of love, love being the real force behind it, it will be fun and it will be harsh, but the rewards are worth the effort. In the end you will both feel better about yourselves and you will have more self-esteem and gain a stronger and better marriage.

When we began this venture, we didn't realize it but our marriage and home were a total shambles. Everything was starting to run down something awful, weeds had grown over our lawn was horrid either one us wanted to do anything to improve it. We had so many bills a mess in every room our house was full of clutter. We went to work we came home we ate supper and we sat on our butts playing on the computer watching TV. We loved each other very much, but we were depressed and we didn't know it. We knew it wasn't right to neglect our home and each other, but we were worn out just to tired to do anything about it. Things have changed now and things are better.  I am not going to lie and tell you just making this commitment has magically made everything perfect. It hasn't.  There is lots to be done and every day is an ongoing process as each day we improve. I truly love my wife and she loves me. It doesn't all happen in a day everything takes time, but it's been worth it. It is too bad every home isn't this way; the world would be better off.

Carl

Truly Grateful

Dear Aunt Kay,

I just wanted to touch base with you, and to tell you about my progress at being a dominant wife. My husband is less critical of me now, and showing more of his submissive side. He is helping out more around the house, and is calmer in general.

I feel more confident now and I have delivered some painful lashes with my cane, which is my new favorite implement. That really gets my husband's attention.

He's having a hard time with cutting down on smoking, but I'm not giving up until he quits for good. He does want to quit, and I know he can.

We had a wonderful weekend together because he was so sweet to me and doted on me constantly, without being prompted to do so.

I want to personally thank you, Aunt Kay for giving me such insight about domination, and explaining it so well. I am truly grateful.                                                   

Sincerely,

Glenda

 ___________________________

Dear Aunt Kay,

It has been sometime since I last emailed you. I wanted to update you. Since you and my wife have been emailing each other our marriage has taken a dramatic changed. You made a DWC believer out of my wife. You have accomplished more in a few emails than I have in 4 ½ years

In the beginning she use to have doubts on how she wanted to handle things. I could tell and I would say what do you think Aunt Kay would say or do? Then you could see it in her face. It was like a light would come on. She knows precisely what to do and she does it without hesitation or remorse.

My wife is happier now than I ever seen her.  It is like she is glowing. There is nothing more pleasing to me than seeing the woman I love so happy.

For some time now she has been caning me every day with 40 strokes for smoking. If I did something else she adds more on. Hope I never make her mad. I asked her what happens if I quit smoking she said I would get less than 40 but she said that I will be caned every day. I also asked her what would happen if I missed her caning. She said “You better have a good reason or the next session will be 80.”

She also said that she could put more power in her strokes but she is working on her aim right now. She said that she wanted to get it just right. Her cane whistles through the air pretty good and burns like fire right now. I thank her after each session and tell her how much I love her.

We are truly closer and more open now than we have ever been. She asks me to do things for her, like “go fetch the cane.” I hand her the cane and get myself ready. She told me she is delighted at my quick, quiet obedience. As you know we DWC men like to please our wives.

Thanks to you Aunt Kay!  You're an excellent influence to my wife. I hope that the two of you become good friends.

Glenda's Hubby

Thank You Aunt Kay

Hi Aunt Kay:

Just a short note to say thank you for being such a wonderful person, and for sharing the DWC lifestyle with the world.

My wife and I are still learning and evolving in the spanking lifestyle, but it has made us closer, and more in love, than we have could ever have imagined. We have been married for 41 years, and are counting upon many many more.

Without your sharing the philosophy with the website, and your manuals, we never would have evolved into using spankings when needed. It has helped my wife believe that we are not completely abnormal, and we both wholeheartedly agree that it has solved problems that have occurred, but even more importantly, prevented problems from occurring due to the consequences that would undoubtedly follow.  Now I think before I leap.

Cheers,

Thomas

Bringing Out the Little Boy

Dear Aunt Kay:

I thought I had been a good boy this month, but my wife informed me last Wednesday that she had some issues that we needed to talk about. Every time she says the word issues, I get apprehensive because I know I'm in trouble and may wind up over her knees. I asked her what, if anything, I had done wrong and she just said that we would talk about it Friday evening. It always makes me nervous when she does that and she knows it. I'm sure she does it on purpose. I should have learned after all these years not to ask but I haven’t, and I guess I never will.

When I got home, she had prepared a nice meal and made arrangements for us to be alone that evening. Two of our children still are at home and going to school so we're not often alone. But Charlotte had made sure that we would be that night and told me so.

She knows better than me what I need and she always has. And this time was no exception. I had been under a lot of stress at work, and she pointed out to me where I had snapped and growled and griped and fussed. We ate and after the meal was over, I started to help her put the dishes in the dishwasher. That's when she turned to me and told me to go and get a hot bath and wait for her in the bedroom. I knew what this meant and my heart jumped up into my throat. I guess I kinda threw a lil temper tantrum, because Charlotte raised her voice to me and told me to go right then and no arguing. She doesn't often raise her voice unless she's fed up with me.

What choice did I have but to go and do as I was told. I'm feeling like a 6-yr. old kid now being sent to his room for being naughty and talking back. Anyway, I went to the bedroom and removed my clothes and put them on the cedar chest at the foot of the bed, then I went into the bathroom and started a bath running in the tub. I sat down on the side of the tub and just thought for a few minutes about how all this had come about and what led up to it. I knew I was wrong, but I didn't want to admit it. After I had gotten my bath and brushed my teeth and shaved, I went back into our bedroom and sat on the bed to wait for her. It seemed like ages until I heard her coming down the hall and when she came in, she found me sitting there with my hands in my lap, covering myself. This is when she did something that she's never done before. She walked over to me.  I was so embarrassed that I wanted to crawl under the bed.  Aunt Kay, sometimes Charlotte makes me feel like a little kid who's been caught stealing a cookie and hiding it under the covers.

Anyway, she didn't tell me to get over her knees and that surprised me. She just put her arms around me and held me for a while. I melted into her embrace and thought that maybe I wouldn't get punished but something deep inside me hoped that I would. Then she looked at me and started to tell me again how I'd been acting and what she thought should be done about it. I just sat three looking down at my feet and hoping she would do something other than lecture me. Well, after she finished talking to me, she patted her knees. I knew what that meant and reluctantly I slid over and lay across them. I don't normally beg but this time I did. I told her that I was sorry that I had upset her and asked her please not to spank me too hard.  Strange but she didn't start to spank me. She put her hand on my behind and began to caress me in a very tender and loving way. She told me that she knew I had been under a lot of stress and has been working hard, then she said she loved me very much but that she would not put up with the way I had been acting. Then she picked up the paddle that I had laid on the bed earlier and just started patting my bottom with it. She didn't hit me hard though, just patted me a few times. Then she asked me how I felt and I told her that I felt miserable because I thought that she was disappointed in me. That's when she dropped the bomb.

Charlotte told me that she loved me for the man I was and for the little boy in me too. She said she intended to bring out the little boy in me and teach him how to act properly. I felt kinda funny when she said that to me, but I didn't have a chance to ask exactly when she meant because she started to spank me. She takes her time when she disciplines me and it seemed that the spankings lasted forever. After about fifteen hard swats I couldn't hold back and the tears started. She told me later that she had given me thirty-five swats in all and I took them just like she knew I would. I was limp and sobbing over her knees as she gave me the last five. She held me on her lap for a while and told me to cry it out then helped me onto the bed and lay down beside me.

Aunt Kay, at this point I felt like the little boy she wanted me to be, and I was grateful when she held me in her arms. We talked for a long time that night and I finally drifted off to sleep curled up next to her. I don't know what time Charlotte went to sleep but I went fairly fast after we finished our talk because I was mentally exhausted and my bottom was very sore. 

One thing she said that made me smile inside though. I told her as I usually do that, I would behave myself and she said, "No, honey, you won't, but I'll always be here to correct you when I think you need it."

Your friend,  

Ted

Dear Aunt Kay

Dear Aunt Kay:

Tara always, without fail, makes me feel like I'm a little boy again. A little boy that's done something naughty and needs to be put over his mommy's knee and punished for his actions. I hate it when she makes me feel that way but inside, I crave it too. Part of the punishment for disobeying her is the humiliation of her making me admit to her and myself that I need to be put over her knee, have my bottom bared and the paddle used on me until I'm defeated and sobbing. Part of me is her husband but part of me is her little boy and I guess that will always be so. I hated to admit that but it's true.

Yesterday, Tara told me I needed a spanking and gave me a choice. She said she wouldn't spank me if I didn't want it but then she took my face in her hands and looked into my eyes and I couldn't say no. So, I said the words she knew I would say. "Please Tara, I need you to spank me." My eyes got moist when she made me admit that to her and ask to be punished. I was ashamed to admit that I'd been bad and needed to be punished by my wife.

"Go on now," she says. "I want you to take a nice hot bath, then get the paddle out of the closet and wait for me on the bed." Always, I have to take a hot bath before a spanking.

I know what's going to happen now. She breaks me down and spanks my bottom until I give up and all I can do is lay sobbing over her knees. I often don't even realize that she's stopped spanking me but it's usually over when she knows I've given up.

I'm broken now and sobbing pitifully into the pillow. The little boy in me has come out just like she planned. I'm not her husband now, I'm her little boy. She tells me, “Go stand in the corner now and think about why you were spanked tonight." My bottom is on fire and I'm so embarrassed. A grown man spanked and standing in the corner.

But I'm not grown now Aunt Kay. I'm just her little boy who did something naughty and I've been punished for it. After my corner time is over, she puts me to bed and usually joins me. Then she pulls me to her and holds me. Sometimes I start to cry again when she does this. I'm so ashamed of myself for having disappointed her that all I can do is cry. I keep telling myself that I'll never do anything to disappoint her again, but I always wind up doing something. I didn't mean to be bad Aunt Kay and I'm so sorry.

My History

This is my history:

Some years ago, I got a new girlfriend. It seemed like a normal situation, but ever since our beginning, I felt something special in her attitude. Later ... I learned what was so special! I recognized that as a man with a childish side.

In some "minor" aspects my childish side emerged. After observing me carefully, my girlfriend, quietly told me one day, “I will give you the discipline you deserve, to improve your behavior, and make of you the best of boyfriends, and, probably, future husband.”

I was amazed by her words, and amazed about all I was feeling. She was in charge and had authority over me. I just wasn't able do feel that correctly. But my astonishment was far from being finished. She told me in an imperative way, "Now you must acquire the implement with which I will discipline you - a good slipper. I will use the slipper to give you some discipline". I found myself looking for a pair of slippers; and I did a very nice package trying to impress her and avoid the promised discipline.

And I was confident, because for a week, or something like that, nothing happened. One evening I was at home, waiting her arrival, and preparing a good dinner, when the phone rang and it was her. She announced to me that the slipper was finally getting put to work. The reason was that on that day I simply forgot to phone her! I tried all excuses...but in vain. And finally I got my first session - a long and hard slippering that warmed my cheeks for hours. After the punishment, she told me, “Let's go talk about your behavior. It isn't good for me and it isn't good for you and for us. You know that I want you to phone me at my work because I care about you and I like hear your voice. I will punish you when I feel you deserve it. And for your own benefit, I will write you a paper with the offenses. I will consider the punishments for each.” She did the paper, and it was very clear. I must tell you that I haven't had much punishments, because I studied hard her. However I got some...always long, hard and very painful. I can tell you that she had a very heavy hand.

I concluded the following:

1- All the punishments I received were effective and very painful.

2 - She was very fair and acted strictly according to the written rules upon which she and I agreed.

3 - The punishments were real punishments - without other motivations, as sexual, or sado/maso and similar. After a hard spanking all I wanted was to cool off my sore bottom.

4 - Punishments were administrated as quickly as possible and without fantasies. Of course she wanted me to assume a pre-determined position.

5 - The objective was to punish a bad behavior, and was never humiliating.

6 - Although the punishments were always very painful, I felt she was always sweet and concerned. She knew that the punishment would hurt. After the punishment we had what she called "time in her arms". When I was in her arms, she tried to make me see my offenses and what the consequences would be.

7 - After that, all was forgiven.

Well, these are some aspects of my life as a DWC man. After some time we separated; mainly because I went to Brazil to work for a long time But while together, we were a very happy couple, and our love was very nice indeed. Now I am very lonely. All I want, and need, is to find a woman who knows how to make me a real DWC husband.

Happiness

Dear Aunt Kay,

You and your site have been so important in constructing our happiness that Katherine told me to send this report of our relationship.

I was representing an auditing company and, in this capacity, I am the kind of guy managers of client companies will fear. But I found a different situation when hired to review the accounting of a diagnostic clinic that belonged to the most important hospital in my area. There was a medical body, a technical staff, and a management team, lead by the `Administrative Officer`, Katherine.

She was in her thirties, was tall, slender and very, very assertive. She would have problems with the doctors, because she made a point of making clear that she was the biggest authority when it came to any administrative issue. She was very though with her own staff, but she would tolerate no criticism of anyone working for her.

By that time, I was coming from a divorce, and I had decided that if I had to start a new relationship it must be in the DWC style, which I had never tried, but I was convinced of that by my readings, particularly from this site.

Katherine’s assertiveness was exciting from the beginning, and I quickly got involved. We dated lovely and soon had excellent sex. But when I introduced the subject, it was a tragedy, I almost lost her.

Katherine said that being bossy was the worst part of her job, something she did just because she needed to, but hated, and that she was looking for a man who could take care of her. I didn’t give up so easily and said:

“Look, Katherine, don’t try to deny what is obvious: You love to be the boss, to say the last word, to be in command, that is very clear for anyone observing you. The problem is that you, like me, come from the type of culture where women are created to be the man’s servants, even if it is not their nature. But you live in a country of equal rights and opportunities, where women are given the responsibility of commanding jobs, and then your true nature comes up. But you think you have to hide it, at least in your private life, because you and your relatives will be ashamed of your easiness to command. Okay, I can understand, but you don’t need to reveal our little secret to the world, let’s do it in private.”

She said that she was very confused, but my final victory this day was that she conceded allowing herself a time to think about. I recommended the DWC site, saying that she would be in touch with very different relationships and that I didn’t necessarily like all of them. Time went by until she abruptly introduced the subject:

“Do you like pain?” she asked.

I answered, “Probably not.” The idea of pain is obviously exciting, so is the beginning of it. I have visited some professionals, and they go up to the point when pain is pleasurable. According to everything I have read about, the pleasure disappears after the first spanks, then comes the real pain. But the recipients quickly replace the pleasure of pain for the pleasure of obedience. Then they will assume a lifestyle of pleasurable obedience, or else... That conversation didn’t go further.

Our relationship continued very well (I even received the key to her apartment!), but vanilla. On an unexpected day, after almost a week when we couldn’t manage to meet, she called me in the afternoon and said, “You’re a lucky guy. Your day has arrived!”

Astonished, all I could say was `Yes ma’am`. She continued: “So you better pay good attention, because I won’t repeat, nor tolerate any disobedience to my orders, OK? We’ll have our basic rules, and I will issue many others as we go. Whenever I say `punishment`, you know that you are in for a sound spanking. You have to acknowledge immediately by replying `Yes ma`am` and, from then on, don’t allow your mouth to say a word, unless on my command.  At home, if the order was given, you will receive the command `attention`. This means you have to strip naked and position yourself behind the chair in the middle of the living room, still, arms to your sides, ready to listen and profit by a good lecture. The next order will be `position`. When you receive it, bend over the chair’s backrest and grab the front part of its seat. This is the position in which you will be punished; don’t leave it until I command you. When I am done, I will tell you to leave position. You are to immediately report to me, kneeling and displaying your appreciation by kissing the back of my hand, still holding the implement. Then follow my orders, which will probably include some corner time. When I decide it is enough I will say `over`, and then normal life will be back. Is it clear?”

I said, “Yes ma`am.”

She continued, “So I want to have you at my house at 7:30, at attention.”

I was absolutely dizzy, but I managed to be there at 7 pm. There was a new chair in the middle of the living room, with a thick belt coiled over the seat. I took off my clothes and at 7:25 positioned myself behind the chair, as I had been instructed.

She entered 10 minutes later. I heard her steps in the house, but she didn’t address me. After going here and there, she appeared in front of the chair to say: “Good. Good to see that you understood. I am assuming direction of your life from now on and I want you to know that it may be hard to, but to disobey is much worse, understand?”

I said, “Yes ma`am.”

She continued, “Position!”

I did as instructed and saw her hand getting the belt. She worked like someone of great experience. After a dozen swats I couldn’t resist, but she couldn’t care less. I started to plead, to beg, to cry, to no avail. When she stopped I was a mess... I knelt in front of her, with both tips of the belt grabbed in her right hand, bent over it and started to say `thank you, thank you`, because I was actually grateful for the fact that she had stopped! Then she told me to go to the corner, where I stayed for more than half hour.

We had agreed that we couldn’t discuss a spanking in the same day, but from next day on we should be free to share our feelings. The next day during dinner she took the initiative: “Was that what you were expecting?”

I answered, “Yes and no. In more than one aspect it was way beyond my expectations. For instance: The spanking was much harder and much longer than I supposed; and after it was more humiliating and, believe me, you now have a very obedient husband.”

She replied, “It’s okay, because you don’t have to like it.”

I said, “Darling, it is not that! I hated being spanked so hard, that’s why I will enjoy so much obeying you, especially because I know that if I don’t I will get another, you see.”

She said, “I won’t even try to understand. I liked it a lot and I will keep with it, until you say very clearly that you don’t want it any longer. What did you like most?”

I replied, “I can’t deny I liked giving the spanking itself. Your attitude, obedience, submissiveness, keeping voluntarily in a position of suffering, was a must!  And after, having you kneeling in front of me, thanking for the spanking and standing in the corner was superb!!”

I said, “So I have an idea that can give you pleasure and `spare the rod` on me. At a snap of your fingers and `that` look, I will acknowledge by saying `yes ma`am’ and I know that failure to do so will mean spanking.”

She then asked, “Why should I be happy humiliating my man?”

I answered, “No, you are not humiliating me, although I will feel humiliated. You are training me in obedience, and you know, the more you train, the better I will perform. I will be much more obedient. So you will only be helping me to be more obedient.”

She had been easy to convince. From then on she demonstrated her creativity. `Small punishments`, non-corporal, include:

* In the middle of an argument she snaps the fingers, tells me to undress and present to her. When I do so, she keeps me for some seconds in that ridiculous position, naked, hands to my sides, and says: `This discussion is over. I don’t want to hear a word about`. My only answer is `Yes, ma`am`, and then she says `Over`, and I can dress and come back to where I was.

* Sometimes she sentences me to wall time, dressed or naked.

* Other times I have to kneel in the middle of the living room, and stay in this position for one hour.

* She made me have a `punishment notebook`, where she would tell me to write 200 times sentences like `to obey is not good, to disobey is much worse`.

I receive one of these `little tasks` at least every two or three days. I am spanked hard at least every two months.

Our life has been of perfect happiness, and we owe a lot to the DWC site. Thank you, Aunt Kay.

Steven

Testimonial

Aunt Kay,

I don't really know whether I should love you, hate you, or thank you, but my wife has come into possession of a book of yours called How to Scold During Discipline.  Ever since that day my life has changed.

I'm nearly 50 years old been married for over 20 years to Dorothy, we were never blessed with children, but I always assumed the lead role, the original "Male Chauvinist".

Suddenly, a few months ago, my wife was standing up for herself, not only that but answering back. Then she was making decisions, then making all the decisions Then she started sitting me down and lecturing to me.  Next, she was scolding me, even in front of friends.  It came to a head one night when I was to go out (no big deal but had never told her ahead of time). Well, she was giving me a real lecture. I said, "Dorothy, you're not my mother! Now .... Back off!" and turned to leave.  Well, suddenly she was using words that were stopping me in my tracks.  Well, to finish off she warned me, "Once more and I'll tan your hide and there will be no more golf for a month".  Of course I took it like a pinch of salt, telling her she couldn't. "Try me," was all I got.

A week or so later I had a few drinks after work.  One of my coworkers was leaving and I arrived home late and not only looking for food but sex as well. [Don't get it wrong - I wasn't mad drunk - just merry]. Before I knew what was going on, she sat me down reminding me of our discussion and then said, "Well your mother obviously didn't do a good enough job, but I will!  Come here and bend over," she said.

I said, "Dorothy, what the .... are you talking about? What are you going to do ....... spank me?  I've never been spanked in my life."  

"Obviously!” she said. Then she started a lecture like a discussion that had me agreeing with her and after a few minutes, as if I was in a trance, I lowered my trousers and accepted a sound spanking on my underpants over her knees.

That was about 7- 8 months ago and I have had a few hard spankings since, but it was only last week that her sister let slip about your book that Dorothy has been reading.

So if anyone had told me a year ago that my quiet little wife spank me, lecture me and send me into the corner for 10 minutes, I wouldn't have believed them.

Thomas

PS  Still love to know what you actually say in this book because it sure works.

The Company Stirrer

It was my last day at the old company and my fellow employees wanted to have a goodbye lunch launch.

I had always got on well with everyone, but especially with one lady who had the next office to mine. At the end of the day, I went to say goodbye to her.  She gave me a big hug and then said she had a present for me!  She reached into her desk and out came a big wooden spoon.  She reflected that I had been a stirrer at times (always in fun) so she thought I should have a wooden spoon.  I thanked her for it and then wondered if I should bring it home. 

Somehow my little inner voice got the better of me, and I duly brought it home and told my wife the story.  She was most interested and when I suggested it would be useful in the kitchen she said NO she had other ideas. 

Sure enough last Friday, when she determined that there were issues to be dealt with and I was stretched over the back of the sofa, she decided to bring out the wooden spoon.  Although it is not as heavy, she made very effective use of it before she moved on to other implements. 

As I sit here writing this, I am still aware of the total effect of the session, and this helps remind me of the need to try and improve my ways.  I suppose this is a familiar story but certainly a good session really seems to leave me in a much better state of mind and attitude.  My wife is much happier also because she has the 'me' she wants to be with.  It also helps me realize the way I should treat her all the time.

Earl

A Perfect Disciplinary Wife

Dear Aunt Kay, 

My wife, Connie, has been spanking me for 13 years, but we only recently discovered your website.  I can't say that my wife needs any instruction at this time - she has given many sound spankings - but much of what you advise she had to learn on her own, or with the help of a friend.

Unlike some of the men who post, I did not seek wifely discipline.  My wife decided that she was going to spank me after getting frustrated and annoyed by some of the things I was doing or failing to do.  I didn't know it at the time, but she had been complaining to her girlfriends about my behavior, and finally one of them, Irene, took her aside and confided in her that she had spanked her husband often, and that it seemed that my wife should do likewise.  Connie thought it over and decided she'd do it.

One evening, after complaining and scolding about my behavior, Connie told me that she had decided I'd never reform unless she punished me, and that she was going to spank me, and told me to get ready.  I tried to laugh this off, but she was really angry, and I felt guilty, and finally gave in and got my first old-fashioned spanking as adult.  In fact, though it was embarrassing to have to take a spanking, and it did sting considerably, it was really not so terrible.  I promised to behave better, and that was that.

But I did not change, and more spankings followed.  The problem (for Connie) was that she was giving me the same stingy but not severe spankings that she had gotten from her father.   They were not a real deterrent to me.  I'd promise to improve, be allowed up, and then a week later do the same thing again.

Then one day everything changed.  She announced a spanking and told me to get ready and bring the hairbrush.  I did so and approached her with a slight smile on my face.  Next thing I knew I got several hard slaps to the face, and a stern order to get over her knee.  The spanking I got was not at all like the previous ones.  I must have had five minutes of the hairbrush and then a long hand spanking on my sore bottom.  My pleas and promises were ignored until she felt she had done a proper job, and I was allowed up, teary eyed and very sore. 

What had happened?  Again, it was much later that Connie told me, but her friend Irene knew something was wrong and invited Connie to watch the next time she spanked her husband.  The poor man protested but was told he had nothing to say about it, and Connie watched him get a blistering. She understood then that the spankings she'd been giving were appropriate for a high school girl, but not for a grown man.  From then on, I got real spankings, and when I get over her knee I'm in for it.

Reading your advice, I understand why it can be so helpful to a wife who is just beginning as a spanking wife.  This advice should be most helpful:

"A spanking should be an event to remember. Don't worry about how red his bottom gets. The more color you put into it, the better you are doing. Don't pay any attention to his cries and pleas and promises. He will tell you anything to get you to stop."

And this:

"Don't be afraid to degrade and humiliate, and above all, when that bare bottom is turned up side down across your knee waiting for the paddle or hairbrush, don't disappoint him. When you let him up, his eyes should be wet with tears, his knees should be quivering, and it should be obvious by looking at his bottom that he is displaying the marks left after a GOOD session." 

Thanks to her friend Irene, Connie learned this after some months of spanking without results.   Since then, her spankings are truly effective;  I wince when told to get ready, but I also know that they have improved our marriage enormously.

 In my own marriage, my wife has the right to spank me, but for bad behavior, and we have a pretty clear understanding of  what that entails - various acts or omissions or patterns of behavior that we both understand are wrong, unfair to my wife, and harmful to our relationship.  There may be marginal cases, and in these she is the final arbiter; I may argue or protest, but will still defer to her judgment, take off my pants and accept the spanking.

However, this does not mean that she is the head of household, with me obliged to obey her in all matters.  Far from it.  In fact she tells me that she sees me as the head of the family, but that when I act in an immature manner that is inconsistent with that, it is her right to correct me.  In a number of matters I am the final arbiter, though she quite rightly expects to be consulted and listened to.

I do admit and fully accept the fact that most men have a side to them that is irresponsible, inconsiderate, immature, even destructive, and that women in most cases are a civilizing influence, and that a family is  much better off when the man accepts his wife's right to correct his behavior.  I would not have said this thirteen years ago when I first got a wifely spanking, but my experience and my reading of others' experience have now convinced me. Of course there are probably couples of whom this is not true, in which the husband is the more responsible one, but I think this is a small minority.

Having said all that, I will also admit that after years of going over my wife's knee, I find the subject of FM spanking extremely fascinating.  No other woman has spanked me in my adult years, and I have read with interest the accounts of get-togethers in which women spank one another's husbands. So, there is a mysterious element of attraction here, and perhaps some day there will be an opportunity to pursue it.

Ordinarily, the offenses I get spanked for are pretty clear cut, and I really don't have an argument.  And I should point out that mostly it is an accumulation of offenses, not just the final one that makes her decide that "enough is enough".  Examples are: being grumpy or rude, being inconsiderate as in leaving a mess for her to straighten out, interrupting her in mid sentence, "forgetting" to do something I promised to do but never got around to, etc.  The one that used to lead to a spanking, all by itself, was being much later in getting home than expected, without phoning her. This would lead to an immediate spanking, if feasible; otherwise, as soon as possible.  I talk of this in the past tense, since several episodes with her hairbrush and strap long ago made me give up this practice.

An example of a marginal offense is this:  at a social gathering, I got into a discussion with another man, and the discussion got a bit heated - not hostile or rude, but it was out of place at that event, and I got a couple of looks from Connie indicating I should cool it.  When we got home and were catching up on things and getting ready for bed, she waited a while and then told me to bring her the wooden ruler that she sometimes used.  She said my behavior recently had been problematic in several ways, and that the argument at the party had made her uncomfortable.  I protested that I had done nothing wrong, and that people often had such discussions.  She countered that this was true, but that she didn't like it, that it was not considerate of the hostess, and that I needed to learn not to repeat it in the future.  I kept protesting, but brought her the ruler, and she herself lowered my pajamas and led me over her lap.  It was not the worst spanking I'd ever gotten, but a ruler can be very sore, and she did succeed in teaching the lesson she intended.  I'm now more careful about what kind of discussions I pursue at social events.

While Connie is strict, she is not a nag.  She states the reasons for a spanking and makes sure I understand them, but does not repeat them over and over.  She will scold a bit during a spanking, but it's not a steady stream of scolding; she's made the reasons clear, and doesn't say too much until it's time, near the end, to ask for and listen to my apologies and promises of better behavior.  I learned early in the game of course that any defiance or reluctance to apologize is pure folly, and will just prolong the punishment.

She will raise her voice a little, but there's no yelling, and no abusive language.  I'm addressed as "dear" or "honey" even as she's blistering my bottom. (e.g. "Don't squirm so much dear, it's annoying.")  BTW, blisters, welts, bright redness are the usual results.  She tries to avoid bruises, though small ones sometimes happen, and for that reason she limits her use of the hairbrush and switches to a ruler or strap, and of course her hand.  btw I feel a strange but strong bond with her when her hand is spanking my bottom, which is usually the last and longest part of the spanking. 

A spanking is inevitably embarrassing and humiliating, but she doesn't try to aggravate that aspect of it.  She doesn't make me undress completely - I notice that in your pictures nudity is often required - just enough to bare the bottom - doesn't make me stand in the corner, and doesn't tease me about it afterwards.  (The woman who gave me the small number of spankings I got as a teen would tease me about it and once spanked me when her sister was in the next room and could hear everything - very embarrassing.) And when the spanking is over, whatever offenses brought it about are forgiven, and she is my loving wife again.  (Though if the offenses are repeated, so is the spanking of course.)    

In other words, a perfect disciplinary wife.

Joe