Kitchen Punishment

I had to spank my husband yesterday. Here’s what happened.

I get home from work quite late, well after dinner time. It was a long and frustrating day. I walk in through the back door that opens onto the TV room. The door is locked (as usual), and the light is off, so I am outside in the cold and dark stumbling for my keys. I get them into the door and open it. Right there is david, lounging on the couch, playing Mario Kart!

I mean, he didn’t even pause the game for a second to turn on the outside light or open the door for me. He heard me fumbling at the door for my keys. Five feet away in the cold outside. Brrrrrrr!

FYI, his chosen Mario Kart character has always been… you guessed it: Princess Peach.

Ok, whatever. So I say hi, and he gives me a curt hi without even pausing. Whatever.

I walk into the kitchen. Steam comes out my ears. It’s a total mess. There are dishes piled in the sink. The dishwasher is still not unloaded. There are dishes on the counter, paper wrappers not in the trash. Food on the plates. The mess was partially my fault, but the worst of it was HIM. Moreover, he had gotten home from work nice and early, and instead of tidying up the kitchen so I don’t come home after a long and difficult day at work to an unholy disaster of a mess, he stuffs his face with take-out dinner and plays Mario Kart.

I take a few deep breaths. I know exactly how I’m going to deal with this. I leave the kitchen without saying anything. I take off my coat, I go upstairs to freshen up and change into house clothes. I pick up the big wooden hairbrush, and seeing it there, a little travel tube of toothpaste. I bring them downstairs and put them on the kitchen countertop.

I go into the TV room. He is oblivious. He is still playing Mario Kart. I pick up the TV remote control. He’s right in the middle of a game. I turn off the TV.

“Hey!” he says, upset at me for terminating his game.

I reach out and grab him by the ear and pull him up out of his seat. He always goes docile like a lamb when I do that. He knows he’s screwed up as soon as that hand grabs his ear, and he knows he’s in trouble.

I ear march him into the kitchen in front of the filthy sink. I don’t have to say a word.

“Oh…” he says. “Sorry…”

“Strip!” I tell him.

He always looks sheepish at this point, and a little embarrassed, despite his familiarity with humiliating corporal punishment. He does as he’s told, and folds his clothes properly putting them out of the way on the kitchen table. He can’t have failed but to have noticed the hairbrush and the toothpaste waiting for him on the kitchen island.

He comes back to me and stands in front of me, totally nude, facing me. His penis is hard.

“Stupid penis,” I say, “it doesn’t know what’s about to happen to you, does it?”

“No Ma’am,” he says.

I make him stand in front of the sink. I make him bend over so that his nose is right up against the filthy dishes piled there. I run some lukewarm water. I get a big glob of toothpaste on my finger, wet it and rub it all around his anal opening and up into his rectum. I repeat a second time. I have him stand. I squeeze another big glob onto my hand, and wet it, and rub it into his testicles, then up and down his shaft, and then all around his penis head. I repeat with another big glob. At first it’s sticky, but pretty soon, with the water more mixed in, it becomes relatively slippery. I am essentially giving him a toothpaste handjob. I get yet another glob, wet it, and again go all over his balls and dick. He’s still hard at this point.

“Now empty the dishwasher, throw out all that garbage, and get those dishes rinsed and loaded into the dishwasher!”

“Yes Ma’am!” he says. Ha ha!

As he starts working I walk over and pick up the hairbrush and gently smack the back of it into my palm over and over again. He looks nervously over to me every now and then. He knows what’s coming. He doesn’t need to be told.

About thirty seconds into the cleaning I see the first twinges of pain from the toothpaste. He’s wiggling his bum and his legs are doing a little dance as he’s doing the cleaning. I see him spreading his legs so that his balls are not at all touching his thighs. Every now and then there is big twinge and he shakes all over.

From debrief afterwards I know,

• the burning in the bum started almost immediately, and just got worse and worse for the first three minutes or so, and then just stayed there;
• at first his testicles did not feel much of anything, but after about a minute in (I guess the toothpaste had penetrated a bit), his balls started getting painfully “icy hot” and became sensitive to touching anything, but also sensitive to the cool breeze from the air as well, though the former was worse than the latter, and hence the spread “cowboy” legs;
• his penis shaft was relatively unaffected;
• his penis tip was icy hot, but bearable;
• but the worst part was the frenulum (the ridge under his circumcised penis tip) which truly burned painfully and kept him hopping and on his toes, penis bouncing.

Jonsmith 93 [CC BY-SA 3.0], from Wikimedia Commons

So in this quite pathetic state he fully cleaned the kitchen which took somewhere around five minutes, I would guess. He seemed to be in a bit of a rush and worked very efficiently despite the excess hopping around.

As soon as he was done he turned to me and faced me, and looked at me with big puppy dog eyes. I just give him my best “angry wife” stare while I continued to tap the hairbrush into my palm as I had been doing the entire time.

“ouch…” he said pitifully as he writhed around on the spot, his bumhole, balls, frenulum, and tip burning icy hot.

I reached out and took him by the ear again. I marched him into the living room and made him face the corner, hands on his head. I wanted him to experience that burn for a few more minutes before his spanking.

“oh please…” he whined.

“Stay!” I ordered, as if commanding a dog.

He could not help but squirm in place, and when I said nothing, implicitly allowing his squirming, it intensified to the point that he was dancing foot to foot, bending and straightening his knees, and shimmying his ass. Some Dommes might insist on absolute stillness, despite the pain. I, on the other hand, enjoy seeing his natural reactions play out.

I gave him a full five minutes of writhingly painful corner time and then came to get him. I pulled him along by the arm, sat on my stright backed spanking chair, and pulled him across my knee. He sort of yelped and jumped when his “junk” came in contact with my lap. For the duration of his spanking, his bare naked toothpaste-impregnated testicles and frenulum would be rubbing painfully against my lap as he bounced, kicked, and wriggled to the swats. As I parted his cheeks to have a look, his anal ring was still quite white and was burning icy cold.

I lay into him with the heavy wooden hairbrush. I started lightly but solidly as a form of warm-up. After the first twenty I started increasing the intensity. By the time I had reached fifty, I was going at full strength and speed, and he was kicking his legs and crying out. Ahhhh… music to my ears!

Afterwards he told me that going across my lap like that was truly painful for his penis and testicles, and that was occupying his mind more than the spanking during the warm-up phase. His bumhole just stung him that entire time at a constant level. Once I ramped it up, his focus moved more to his cheeks, but he was nonetheless very conscious of his penis and testicle pain, and his consciousness flicked back and forth from ass to junk as the brush came down and then went up again. As the spanking became more intense, then as he kicked and wriggled his asshole does a sort of “pumping” motion in the air, sort of opening and closing involuntarily (that is something I can see, it “opening up” as he jacknifes up and then “shutting tight” as he gets swatted back down again). Once that started happening, his anus started burning anew and yet another painful sensation was thus added into the mix.

Once I hit my stride at fifty strokes, I continued on and gave him another full fifty bum-blistering spankings with the back of the big wooden hairbrush.

Once I had given him his full measure of one hundred, I let him up. He rose slowly and awkwardly and I could see the pain in his face, both from the hairbrushing and the toothpasting.

Once his punishment was over, I took on a more nurturing and motherly demeanour. I stroked his hair and kissed his cheek and told him “Mommy is sorry she had to punish you like that. Will you be good from now on and make sure you’ve done your chores before video games?”

“Yes Mommy,” he said.

Ahhhh! It genuinely warms my heart when he calls me Mommy. I like it!

I could have let him go to the shower to clean off and out the nasty still burning toothpaste, but I wanted him to know that I had the power to both bring the pain and to make it all better again. So I helped him over to the sink. I used some liquid soap, a dishrag, a dish towel and a scrub brush to thoroughly wet him, soap him up, and scrub the toothpaste away.

I started in his bum by squirting a lot of soap onto my bare fingers, wetting my palm with nice hot water, and then rubbing around the outside of his anus and sticking my fingers in and out of his bumhole. I also washed down his perinium towards the backs of his testicles. I used my hand first, and did several applications of soap, both inside and all around. I had him standing on one dish towel as I used the rag to scrub him first, and then had him bend over further and used the scrub brush (pictured) to finish him up. I got a lot of winging and whining during the scrub brushing! Ha ha! I then used the other dish towel to dry him off.

“Is that all better in your backdoor?” I asked him gently.

“oh yes,” he said, sounding very relieved!

Next I moved to his front. Again, I got plenty of liquid soap into my hand, added lots of nice hot water, and started soaping up his testicles, his penis shaft, and his frenulum and tip. I rubbed good and hard. For all the world it looked like I was actually hand-jobbing him, ha ha! During this treatment he went from “half-mast” to “full attention”. Boys!

I then used the dishrag to scrub him all over and ended with the scrub brush (amidst more yelping and hopping around), scrub brushing his sensitive penis tip to make sure no remnants of nasty toothpaste remained.

“There now,” I said, “is it all better in front as well?”

“Yes Ma’am,” he said with a big sigh. The sting truly was completely gone, he told me later, as if by magic.

His penis was also very stiff. I took pity on it. “Would you like to cum?” I asked him. He nodded affirmatively. “You do it then, into the sink,” I said. “Don’t make a mess.”

“Here,” I said, “you may as well clean it off some more while you’re at it,” and I adjusted the water to a nice very hot bath hotness, and squirted some more liquid soap into his wetted palm. “Go on, rub.”

He looked sheepish. I was showing no signs of going anywhere. He needed to stand on his tiptoes to get his dick and ball sac up above the countertop, and even so his balls smooshed down onto the marble countertop in front of the sink. His hand started moving very quickly up and down his shaft, the suds built up, and a little pool of water formed underneath his balls.

“That’s it, that’s it,” I encouraged him as I very gently smacked his bottom and rubbed his chest, back, belly, and abdomen.

“Do a nice big one, right into the sink,” I cajoled him.

“Yes Mommy!” he cried out. There it is again. Still loved it!

He arched his back, screwed up his face, and squirted a big load of white goo directly into the kitchen sink.

“Good boy!” I praised as he cajoled the last few spurts and dribbles out of his cocktip. I then used my hand to rinse off the soap and his man-goo, and the dishrag and towel (though not the scrub brush this time, figuring he’d be pretty sensitive!) to clean and dry him and the sink.

“No more video games tonight,” I told him. “I want you to read a book.” And I kissed him on his forehead and we went about our business.

What a great stress reliever after a hard day’s work!
Source: Strict Julie

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