Home to Dinner (M/F story)

Christine grinned to herself as she slipped into her skimpiest skirt, checking that the tight top properly showed off her cleavage. In a few minutes, her husband would come home, and instead of the dinner being on the table, he would find his slim redheaded wife in the bedroom, in some revealing clothes. To show his displeasure with her laziness, he would immediately take her over his knee, bare her bottom, and give her a long, hard spanking, then take her to bed. She grinned; she couldn't wait!

Soon, she heard his car pull into the driveway. His slow, measured footsteps entered the kitchen and living room, and then approached the bedroom. The door opened, and she saw her six-foot-tall, dark-haired, muscular husband with a look of disapproval on his face. She expected it to light up at the sight of her outfit, but he merely raised an eyebrow. "Go wait for me in the living room," he said, and left. She was slightly confused; she'd expected him to throw her over his lap then and there. What was he planning?

She did as he had told her. A few seconds later, he entered with a coil of rope he'd retrieved from the garage. He pointed at the dining table. "Stand at one end, then bend forward over the table." His tone was calm, but authoritative. Slightly uneasy about what exactly he was planning, she obeyed. He cut off a piece of the rope and tied her left foot to one the leg of the dining table, then tied her right foot to another leg. Two more pieces of rope tied each of her hands to the legs near the centre of the large table. He tied the knots so well that she knew there was no way for her to wriggle free, and the rope was thick enough to hold her in place. She was trapped in a humiliating position, with no way to escape, completely at his mercy, and growing wetter every second. He'd never tied her up before. Despite all their spanking play, this was a side of him she'd never seen before!

He raised her skirt and lowered her thong, then began to gently rub her bare bottom. "When we agreed that you would quit your job and become a stay-at-home wife, I told you that I expect dinner on the table every day when I come home. You know that I work hard all day, and I'm not in the mood for games the second I come home. You've ignored my instructions yet again, probably hoping for a gentle little spanking. That's not what's going to happen to you."

Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest. She wanted to say something, but her throat was too dry. All the moisture in her body had gone to her crotch.

"I am going to give you a firm spanking with my hand. Then, I'm going to take off my belt and whip your bottom until you can't sit for a week. Finally, I'm going to screw it until you can't sit for TWO."

This was rather more than she had expected. He withdrew his hand, and she let out an anticipatory whimper.

"But first, I'm going to make myself something to eat." And he headed off into the kitchen.

For a few seconds, she was too stunned to respond. When her senses returned to her, she yelled after him, "Hey! You can't tie me up and leave me here! What do you think you are doing?" She tried stand up, but the ropes held her too tightly. "How in the world can you be thinking of food at a time like this!?"

She heard him moving around in the kitchen, preparing something. She knew he could hear her, but there was no response. She fumed. How could he treat her like this? She was half-naked, bent over a table, and he could do anything he wanted to her, and he was thinking with his stomach!

About ten or fifteen minutes later, he entered the room holding a tray of food. From the looks of things, he'd heated a can of beef stew. He sat down at the other end of the table, with his plate a foot from her head. Disgusted by his priorities, she stared at the wall, not wanting to look at him. However, the smell of the warm food soon made her mouth water; now that she thought of it, she hadn't eaten anything since lunch - she'd been too preoccupied with the bedroom games she'd planned.

"Give me some of that food," she complained.

There was a dangerous gleam in his eye that caused a shiver to run down her back. "Is that how you ask for things when you're being punished? Do I need to bring out the cane to remind you of your manners?"

She turned pale; he'd used the cane on her a few times, and she was in no hurry to repeat the experience. "Please, sir, could I have some food?" she said in a humble voice.

"Part of me thinks it would be just punishment to send you to bed without supper," he said. "But I'm going to be merciful." He went into the kitchen and fetched two deep plates. He dumped some of the stew into one of them, and slid it across the table to her.

"Thank you, sir," she said gratefully, but was surprised when he sat back down to continue eating. She looked expectantly at him, but he made no move to get back up. "Aren't you going -" she said, but stopped herself. "Could you please untie my hands, sir?" she said in her most respectful voice.

"No."

She frowned. "Then how do you expect me to eat?" Hastily, she added a 'sir' when she saw the look on his face.

"The food is right in front of you."

She looked down at the plate of stew, and realized what he meant. "You can't mean... I'm not going to chow it down like a dog!" she said indignantly.

"Go hungry, then," he said with a shrug and returned his attention to his dinner.

She glared at him, but he was no longer looking in her direction, which was probably a good thing for her backside. She looked down at the stew again. She didn't want to dig her face into it like an animal, but there was no other solution, and the growling in her stomach wasn't dying down. With a resigned sigh, she lowered her head and started eating.

As she began to chow down, he poured some water into the other deep plate, sliding it across to her. She placed her head into it and did her best to drink, watching the pieces of stew that had been clinging to her jaw float away.

It was uncomfortable and humiliating. She did her best to tell her throbbing vagina that there was nothing sexy about being treated like this, but clearly, it disagreed with her.

Once they had finished eating, he cleared the table, then fetched a moist cloth and wiped the remains of the food from her face. "Thank you, sir," she said.

"I think it's time we start your spanking," he told her. She sighed contentedly; finally, the evening could begin. He stood by her left side, gently rubbing her bare bottom. "Do you remember how I said we would start off?"

"A firm spanking with your hand, sir," she repeated.

He smiled. "That's right." His firm palm landed on her left cheek, then on her right cheek, delivering hard, slow spanks that caused her to wince. She was convinced he had the hardest, firmest hand in the city - possibly the country.

His hand covered every inch of her bottom, from the upper parts to her sit spots, giving every spot a firm smack. She shivered with delight, but the knowledge that he would soon take off his belt weighed heavily on her mind.

All too soon, he stopped spanking. "I think that's nicely warmed up," he said proudly. "Pretty in pink. I think it's time we made it red, don't you? What was the next part?"

"You would take off your belt and whip my bottom until I can't sit for a week, sir," she said nervously. She didn't like it when he used implements - hand spankings were always fun, especially over his knee. But paddles, brushes, and belts? Not her cup of tea.

"Wonderful, you were paying attention," he praised her as he began to undo his belt. "That's good. Maybe in the future, you'll also do what I tell you." She nervously licked her lips as she heard him draw his belt through the loops. The sound of sliding leather was loud as a car alarm to her frightened mind.

He wrapped the end of the belt around his hand, tapping the leather gently against her quivering backside before drawing back and letting it fly. She let out a loud yelp as it landed on her poor backside, but he just chuckled. "Stings, does it? Good. I'd hate to think it didn't have an effect."

"It's having an effect, sir," she assured him hastily. "I promise you that I'll have dinner ready when you come home every day from now on!"

He grinned. "Good. Now, let's ensure that you remember your promise." He lifted the belt and whipped it down. As he continued to tan her bottom, she howled in pain and tried to kick, but the ropes prevented her from moving her feet. The belt struck again and again, and she tried to wriggle out of the way, but it was impossible for her to move, and every stroke landed exactly where he wanted it to.

Her bottom was already red, and her pleas for mercy sounded very sincere, but he wanted to make sure that she didn't do this again. She sobbed, she pleaded, and she howled, but nothing she said or did could stop his belt.

By the time he stopped, her backside was crimson, and it was clear she would have marks for quite some time. He whispered soothingly to her, gently rubbing some of the sting out of her backside to help her calm down. After a few minutes, she looked up at him, relieved that her spanking was over. Suddenly, her eyes widened as she remembered what came after the belt.

He grinned when he saw the look on her face. "Christine? What happens now?"

"You... " she swallowed. "You said you would screw my bottom until I couldn't sit for two weeks," she said timidly.

He patted her gently on the head. "That's right. I'm going to fetch the lube. Don't go anywhere," he said with a chuckle.

She hissed as he parted her sore cheeks, and whimpered as he spread the lube all over her hole. He entered her, causing her to squeal, but she smiled to herself when his attention was away from her face. Like she had wanted, her actions had led to spanking and sex, but not quite in the way she had envisioned. Though the next time she wanted a spanking, she might decide to do something less serious in his eyes.