Neglecting housework (M/F story)

Cynthia smiled. She loved these sleepy Saturday mornings, when she could just lie in bed, relax and feel the stress of the week pour out of her. No work to get up for, no appointments, just her and the pillow.

"Cynthia, I need to talk to you."

She sighed. She loved her husband Dominic dearly, but he had never quite grasped how much she loved sleeping in. "I'm sleeping."

"It's almost noon. Anyway, do you remember whose turn it was to do the dishes last night?"

"Nope," she answered, truthfully.

"Yours. And did you?"

"Can't we deal with this later?"

"You always want to deal with it LATER. Don't think I haven't noticed that you haven't been doing your share of the housework lately. Talking to your friends on the phone or sitting in front of the TV is obviously more important."

"I'm too pretty to work," she pouted.

"How adorable," he told her. "Now, are you going to get that cute little butt out of bed?"

"Nope. Now go away. I'm sleeping."

He frowned at her, but left. Cynthia smiled and leaned back, basking in her victory.

After a few minutes, she heard his footsteps approaching, and looked up to tell him to go away again. But the words got caught in her throat when she spotted what he was carrying. Dominic was wielding a large, wooden hairbrush.

She realized what he was planning, and in a flash, she was on her feet. "You've made your point. I'll wash up. In fact, I'll do it right now."

She tried to run past him, but he caught her upper arm. "That's good to hear, but I'm afraid I have some things to discuss with you first."

She whimpered as he sat down on the bed, pulling her pyjamas bottoms down to her knees. "Please, sir, I'll do as you say. Please don't spank me! I'm sorry!"

"You should have thought about that before," he said as he guided her over his lap. He picked up the brush and rubbed it against her bare bottom, watching the goosebumps forming in anticipation. "Please tell me why you are being spanked."

"Because I haven't been doing my chores lately, and because I was rude to you," she said as calmly as she could, even though every instinct she had was telling her to get up, run away and hide.

"Good," he said. "Just what I wanted to hear." He lifted the brush and began the spanking.

The first few smacks were relatively light, but still hard enough to cause Cynthia to gasp in pain after only a few strokes. Dominic always made sure that she would learn her lesson fast, because sometimes, he didn't have very much time to discipline her.

Soon, Cynthia could feel tears rolling down her cheeks, and the sting in her rear end was increasing every second. Dominic spanked hard and fast, moving from cheek to cheek, from the top of her tights to her lower back, leaving no part of her bottom unspanked. He was a skilful spanker, but then, he'd had a lot of training.

Dominic watched the pert little posterior in front of him turn pink, then red, as Cynthia's crying grew louder. Soon, she was promising to behave, pleading with him to forgive her.

At last, when Dominic was satisfied with the colour of her cheeks, he helped Cynthia to her feet. "Now, go get your apron."

"Oh, please, sir, I've learned my lesson. Don't make me -"

He didn't answer her, just bent her under his arm, giving her half a dozen quick, hard smacks to her sit spots.

"Go and get your apron," he told her again. This time, she obeyed immediately.

Dominic had bought a pink apron at a garage sale years ago, and designated it her 'punishment apron'. If he really wanted to punish her, he would tell her to put on the apron. She would wear it for as long as he told her to, and more importantly: it was the ONLY thing she was allowed to wear. Cynthia hated it with a passion, but she couldn't even imagine what he'd do to her if she tried to get rid of it.

Cynthia spent the next fifteen minutes in the corner, nude except for that blasted apron, desperately trying not to rub her red, stinging bottom. Dominic sat in a nearby chair, enjoying the sight. There was something very calming about watching his wife in the corner, red bottom on display.


As she stood washing up, still wearing the hated apron, Cynthia vowed to make sure she did her chores on time from now on. She would feel a lot better about it if it was the first time she made such a promise.