An Outing in the Woods

It was such a lovely day.  Early spring, still a little nip in the air so that her sweater felt quite nice, but sun shining brightly, white fleecy clouds up in a deep blue sky.  Rebecca was so happy she felt like bursting out in song, but she did not do so.  She knew and was often told her singing voice was dreadful.

Then she got a big surprise at lunchtime.  Her husband, Peter, who rarely got away from his work at lunchtime, came home.  Rebecca was thrilled, and scurried around the kitchen eager to fix him a delicious lunch.  But the tall athletic man had other ideas.

“No, no” he told her with a grin, “don’t bother with lunch. I’d rather spend the time taking a walk with you out in the woods.  Come along”.  And with that he started for the door.  Rebecca started to go for a jacket or sweater of some kind but seeing her husband’s determined stride she decided to go out with him with just her blouse on instead.  She hurried to catch up with him and to match his stride as he made his way out into the woods which were directly behind their rustic house.

Once Peter reached their picnic area, a spot where he had built a picnic table and an outdoor bbq pit, he said to the young woman who stood by his side.

“Stand here, Rebecca, just stand here and wait for me.  Oh and I’d like to see your hands behind your neck”.

At that pretty Rebecca gasped and became quite nervous.  He was telling her to assume a position they always used when he was about to punish her.  Was he going to punish her she thought desperately.  But if so, for what? What did I do, the shapely brunette asked herself urgently.  She could think of no recent transgression.

But Rebecca had been married to Peter long enough by now to know that when he told her to do something, it was best she do it at once, without question or complaint.  So she stood with her hands behind her neck.  She heard her husband walk off, but could not see him, so she didn’t know why he was leaving.

Only a few moments later Rebecca heard his steps returning.  She felt rather than saw him stand behind her.

“Rebecca” he said solemnly, “I am going to spank you now.  I am going to spank you soundly.  I wish you to be a good girl at all times, you know that, and if that requires me to spank you, I shall do so, as sad as that always makes me”.

Rebecca sobbed ever so softly and wanted desperately to call out her grief, her shame, and to ask him WHY he was about to spank her.  She said nothing.

Even before they became engaged, and long before they actually married, Peter had made it quite clear to the young shapely brunette that if she were going to see him, date him or at some point marry him, she should expect him to maintain very firm and loving discipline over her.  He had explained at an early stage precisely what he meant by “discipline”.  In short he would spank her.  And spank her often.  Early on she had cried out her shame and begged him to find some other way to discipline her, pointing out that she was a woman now, not a child.  He had allowed her at that time to beg and to question and even to challenge his decisions.  After all they were not yet even dating on a regular basis. He was not her fiancé and her husband.

At that point Peter began chiding her angrily, taking her by one ear and pulling her head forward till her chin nearly rested on her heaving breast.

He did not point out any specific fault or wrongdoing on her part, but rather talked in general terms about how disappointed he was with her behavior and attitude.  Rebecca cringed visibly at this verbal onslaught.  As painful as the spanking would be (they always were) the brunette heartily wished her husband would get on with it and stop chiding.  He made her feel like a child of 7 or 8 again.

Rebecca had not liked the idea of his spanking her.  Oh true she had been spanked regularly by both parents as she was growing up, so spankings would not be something new for her to endure.  But to be spanked by this handsome vigorous man was something else.  She felt it would have to be most embarrassing.  And as time passed and Peter spanked her time after time, pretty Rebecca found that was most true.  It was humiliating and embarrassing for her as a young woman to be spanked like a child.

Very soon after he began his practice of spanking her, Peter informed Rebecca she was no longer to question him or to plead with him to be spared a spanking.  He stressed how important it would be for her to accept her punishments bravely, to act maturely, and to trust his judgment in the matter.  She did so as difficult as that was for her, especially at first.  Pretty Rebecca was so ashamed of what he was doing on their dates that she told no one else, not her parents, nor her very best friend Angela. His spankings would be their “secret”, a deep dark secret which Rebecca hoped and prayed would never be discovered by others.

Rebecca sobbed louder and her shapely calves shook violently as she felt Peter under her slacks and tug them down over her firm round buttocks.  Her panties came down with the heavier garment so once the man got them pulled down to her knees, her entire bottom was left bare, inviting, and very vulnerable.

“Bend over, Rebecca” Peter directed as he gently but firmly pushed her upper body down till it rested on the large picnic table.  This caused her shapely ass to stick out even more, offering him a most appealing target.

Peter paused to rub both firm buttocks roughly with his right palm. 

Rebecca tensed her bottom cheeks fully expecting her husband to begin slapping them vigorously with his palm (he often spanked her using just his heavy palm).  But this day there were no hearty slaps of flesh on flesh.  Instead the man simply rubbed the trembling globes roughly.  By now his wife was sobbing loudly, her tears those of shame however, not of pain.

“You have been a very girl lately, have you not, Rebecca dear?” the man inquired softly.  What could she say?  She knew only one answer from her would be acceptable.  So she sobbed softly,

“Oh, yes, my darling, I have, I have”.  That was precisely what her husband wanted to hear.  Now in his mind at least he had good reason to spank her.  First her admission of guilt, then the punishment.  That was how he disciplined her fairly and lovingly.

“Yes, yes, you have been quite naughty” Peter agreed, giving her bare bottom a final vigorous rub.  He bent over to the ground and took up the long slender branch he had broken off a nearby tree to use in spanking his young wife.  He often used a switch as they called it to punish her. It stung her soft flesh badly, it left bright red welts or lines across those firm round buttocks and down the backs of her sturdy thighs all the way to her knees.  But mostly (and this was what gave the man such great pleasure) the slender branch evoked loud cries of grief from the suffering brunette.  Each searing cut of the wood brought forth a loud cry of grief from the bare bottomed young wife.  Her cries were music to his ears.  Peter not only didn’t forbid them, he secretly longed for her to call out even louder.

Their home was fairly remote.  Their nearest neighbors over a mile away in either direction.  Her cries would never be heard by others unless they were there visiting at the time.

Peter raised the long thin branch and lashed the brunette’s firm ass with it a first time.  She winced and called out at once in pain.  Peter waited a moment to watch a vivid red line appear across both rounded globes. It did so a moment later.  It would be the first of many to do so.

Peter thrashed Rebecca that afternoon in silence, which in itself was quite unusual.  His usual pattern was to intermingle painful blows with scathing rebukes, reminding his tearful victim of her age and status as a wife, pointing out the spanking she was being given was usually reserved for naughty children, not grown wives. Peter knew how painful his comments were for the shapely brunette.  Perhaps more painful even than the blows he gave her.

Finally after applying the stick a dozen times, Peter paused to ask smugly,

“Now tell me, my dear Rebecca, are you LEARNING your lesson today?”

Poor Rebecca.  How could she learn a lesson from the painful spanking when she didn’t even know what she had done to earn it.  She sensed that Peter often spanked her for the sheer pleasure it gave him, not for anything wrong she may have done.  But she dare not accuse him of that, nor dare she give any other answer than,

“Oh YES, my darling, OH YES I have, I have.  I’m learning my lesson. I will be good from now on, my darling, I promise I will be a good girl” she vowed urgently between sobs of pain and shame.  She wanted this dreadful spanking to end, and to end soon.  She would tell her husband anything he wanted to hear to do so.

Peter was not ready to end her punishment, not yet.  The sight of her badly wealed buttocks and thighs, with all those thin red lines moving down her firm flesh pleased him immensely, as did her woeful cries of grief.  But now he would add to his pleasure by giving that tempting bottom a sound spanking with his palm.  He switched the long thin branch from his right to his left palm, and rested it high up on the doubled over brunette’s back, near her shoulders.  He pushed down but lightly.  He never had to restrain his wife in any way while spanking her. Rebecca remained in place no matter now long or painful his spankings.

“Rebecca my child, do you well remember our wedding day?” the man inquired smugly as his right arm rose and fell vigorously, his palm cracking and flattening the brunette’s bare sore bottom.

“Ooooh oh yes, Peter darling, oh yes I do, I do” she sobbed loudly.

“And so then you well remember the vow you took to love, honor, and OBEY me, do you not?”  There was but a slight pause in his palm’s attack on her rounded ass, but before the suffering wife could call out a reply, it resumed, only now with even greater force.  The meeting of flesh on flesh retorted in the quiet woods like shots from a pistol.  Rebecca winced visibly with each blow.

Somehow the sobbing brunette managed to call out an answer to her husband’s last question.  “Ooowww, oh yes, my darling, oh yes I do, I remember”.

“And would you say you have carried out your vow at all times?” he grilled, a weak smile on his face as he continued to slap his wife’s bright red buttocks noisily.

“Oh, oowww, oh I have tried to, my darling, oh I have tried so hard to be a good wife for you.  I’m sorry, Peter, oh I’m so sorry, my darling, that at times I have been wicked.”

Peter moved the slender branch back from his left to his right palm and raised it high above his target.

“Ah, yes, Rebecca my child, yes you have been wicked quite often I must say.  That disappoints me greatly, but I feel this type of discipline will encourage you to strive harder to carry out your solemn vow.  I especially want you to work harder on the OBEY part of your vow.  Do you hear me?  OBEY means to do what I wish, not what YOU wish.  Is that quite clear?”

“Aaggghhh” Rebecca’s cry was strangled badly.  “Yes, darling, oh yes it is clear, I understand” she cried out loudly.

“Very well, I shall now give you 6 more strokes.  You will count them aloud for us.  Clearly, Rebecca.  If for any reason I fail to hear your count, I shall repeat that stroke and add a penalty one.  Now let us begin.”

The supple switch rose and fell with vigor, adding yet another bright red line to the battered flesh.

“OH, one” came the doubled over wife’s quick count.  Her husband smiled at the speed with which she called out.  He waited a moment, then raised his switch even higher and brought it down even harder, right at the base of his wife’s plump round buttocks, right where they joined her sturdy thighs.  She screamed out her pain first but quickly added the count of 2.

When the sixth and final cut of the switch had been delivered, Peter again rubbed his wife’s round bottom with his palm, relishing the heat he felt in those firm globes.  She simply sobbed bitterly as she remained doubled over the table.

“You may now stand up, Rebecca. I am finished with your discipline for today” Peter announced in a pleased tone.  He stood, switch in hand, watching contentedly as his wife first stood up erect, then meekly reached down and tugged up her white cotton underpants first, then her slacks to cover her soundly beaten backside.  She stood tears flooding her still red cheeks facing her husband.  He smiled at her, doubled the slender branch in half to break it.  Then he tossed it aside on the ground.  He opened up his arms and Rebecca rushed into them.  He embraced her tightly, letting her rest her wet face on his shoulder.  His arms not only encircled her, his hands slipped down her back to rub and squeeze her firm round cheeks through her slack material.  He smiled broadly, telling himself that even through the cloth of her trousers he could still feel the heat he had generated in those firm round buttocks.

“Come now, Rebecca my dear, let us resume our pleasant walk in the woods” he told her, circling her waist with his right arm and walking beside her down the path even deeper into the woods.

It took several minutes before Rebecca could stop crying.  But finally she did so.  Of husband and wife, however, on that particular afternoon it was only Peter who smiled as they strolled together.  Rebecca’s face was white and drawn, and under her blouse her breasts rose and fell rapidly.