Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Story: The Message (F/M spank) I came home at my usual time, early afternoon. There was an interesting message on the answering machine from my wife of four years, Joanie. I met that backwoods country girl five years ago, and we were married about a year later. She is always full of energy, and I love the sound of her voice. We got into the spanking scene about a year later, when I confided in her about my fantasies. At first she went along with what she called a silly little game; after some time, though, she had to admit that she enjoyed it, and even looked forward to the discipline scene. She never wanted to be spanked - she was content to do the spanking. Later, she started to apply her skills in a domestic discipline situation, using spanking as a way to settle some of our marital disagreements. I played back the message she had left: "Hey Rick - I'm gonna be home about four this afternoon! I want you to go out to the willow tree and cut two switches. No, make that THREE switches!" I paused the message. Three switches! This was going to be severe. I resumed the message playback. "Go cut THREE GOOD switches an' get 'em ready. When I come home, I want you to be ON the bed, face down, with your pants DOWN just enough to bare your bottom. And put that bolster pillow underneath. I want the switches layin' on the nightstand, and I want you to have the wrist and ankle thingies on the bed. You're gonna need 'em! Remember, I want you ready for me when I walk in the door." My stomach did flip-flops when I heard that message. On occasion Joanie had used a switch on me, and sometimes used one until it was frayed and completely worn out. She said that's the way it's done where she grew up in Arkansas. She'd never done more than one, though, and I wondered why she wanted three switches available this time. Sometimes she takes out her frustrations from work on my backside; but afterwards, the sex is so sweet. Three switches. I had one hour before she planned to be home. I picked up the pruning shears and went out to the willow tree. Joanie always prepared the switches herself in the past although I remember her telling me that if she ever had me cut them that they'd better be good ones - and told me in detail what the word "good" meant. They had to be straight, when possible, and no shorter than a certain length, and not too thin. They had to have the leaves off, and they had to be green and flexible. I didn't really like to have to cut the switches that would be used on me, although my nervousness was to a certain degree mixed with arousal. I pared the leaves off the three switches that I selected, rinsed them off, and put them on the nightstand. I went to the closet and retrieved the wrist cuffs and the ankle cuffs, attached the binding straps to the bed frame, and placed them neatly on the bed. I put a firm bolster pillow in the middle of the bed and placed a towel across it. A half hour more of waiting. I drank some water and idly read a magazine, watching the clock at the same time. At five minutes to four, I went to the bed, took a deep breath, undid my jeans, and got face down over the pillow. Then I maneuvered my jeans and briefs down so that my bottom was bare. A few minutes later I heard Joanie come in. I heard the sounds of her putting her things down and getting a drink of water. I flinched when she put her hand on my bared bottom. She giggled and asked, "Nervous?" "A little," I sheepishly replied. "We have a new rule," Joanie announced. "When we are in session like this, you address me by the title of ma'am or Mistress Joanie. Your choice. Got it?" I really didn't want to comply, but I didn't think I had much choice; rather, the likely consequences of not complying were not pleasant. "Yes ma'am," I said softly. "Good! Now I'll get you fixed up here," she continued, and put the wrist and ankle cuffs on me. She tightened the binding straps so that I was spread-eagled on the bed, fully clothed except for my bared bottom which was conveniently presented to her. She picked up a switch and whipped it through the air several times. My stomach flip-flopped again and my bottom almost tingled from the sound alone. "Okay, my dear lover, you're gonna get a good hard switchin', just like the ones we got out in the country." Another thing was that I have steadfastly refused to beg my wife to stop spanking me. I'll tell her to stop, but I have not yet begged using the word "please", or said "please stop" or similar phrases. Joanie has noticed that and has remarked that sometime she'll get me to beg, something that would be humiliating for me. She began the switching. Joanie vigorously whipped the switch across my bared bottom about once per second. With each stroke I jumped and writhed as much as my restraints allowed. Each swipe imparted a dreadful urgent sensation, and try as I might, I could not refrain from vocalizing my plight with a sincere and urgent-sounding exclamation. "Oh! Ow! Oww! Oh! Joanie! Ow! Oh!" and so on. When the switch broke, she immediately picked up another one and briskly switched me with it as I continued to jump, writhe, and squirm. I know that if she had not restrained me, I would have constantly evaded her administering, even to the point of jumping off the bed. When Joanie picked up the third switch and firmly applied it I got more vocal with her to stop switching. "OW! Joanie stop! OW! No more! Stop, Joanie! STOP! OW! OW!" But she didn't stop. She acted like she didn't even hear me. She kept whipping with the switch and I kept yelling and twisting. "STOP THAT WIGGLING!" she shouted as she applied the switch. "Now are you going to ask nicely?" Oh no! She wanted me to beg her to stop. The switch really hurt, but I was going to hold out. "Ow! Joanieeeee! Come on! No more!" "Not till you ask me nice and proper!" she retorted, and kept on switching. "No Joanie! Stop!" But she didn't stop. She didn't even slow down. "Well," she finally said, "the third switch is all wore out. I'll be back in a minute." A little while later she came back saying, "I cut a couple more switches, my love. And I'm gonna use 'em till you ask me nice - you know what I wanna hear!" She started briskly switching me anew. She must have switched harder, because I really jumped and wiggled then. My ass felt like it was on fire, and I finally gave in. "Please, Joanie, please stop!" She put down the switch and picked up a fresh one and started in again. "You forgot what to call me, darlin'. I want you to call me Mistress Joanie," she said as she kept briskly applying the switch. "Ahhhh! Ahhh! Okay, Mistress Joanie! OW! Please stop! OWW! Please stop Mistress Joanie!" She threw the switch down. "Very good!" A voice I didn't recognize startled me. The woman's voice said "Excellent, Joanie!" I was still tied face down to the bed, my jeans were down past my bared bottom, my midsection was raised to present my ass to Joanie, and I had just finished getting a very severe switching. I looked back to the extent that I could and saw a slender woman in a business suit and high heels. She smiled. "Joanie, what -" "Rick, this is Melissa, my boss at work. I applied for a promotion to team leader, and she didn't know if I was up to the job. So I asked her if I'd get the job if I demonstrated that I could get my husband to cut some switches, bare his bottom, and take a good switchin' without my using any physical force to get that done. She said yes. So I showed her I can do it." Joanie smiled at Melissa. "So I get the job, right?" "Um - yes," Melissa answered with a quaver in her voice and a pink flush radiating from her face. "This is so - uh, I mean, I've never seen anyone with your, uh, ability to do this. Well, I'd best be going. I'll get the paperwork finished tomorrow for your transfer." Joanie unfastened my bindings and sat on the bed next to me. I turned over and put my hand inside her panties. "Just as I thought," I teased. "You're so wet. Let's have dessert before dinner." She giggled and took off her dress. ---- This work is copyright 2008, 2009 by the author, and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Archiving and reposting of this story unmodified is permitted provided that no fee is charged, either directly or indirectly (including so-called "adult checks") and provided that this disclaimer and attribution to the original author (rick_oh at onolanke.router5.com) are maintained. Please see my other stories at /~rick_oh/