Going to Dinner by amazonboy at amazonboy@rediffmail.com for comments and ideas Jen spoke over the car radio, breaking a 5-minute silence. "Don't go on the interstate," she said. "Turn here and go back to the apartment. ". "Why? Are we not going to eat?" Jason asked, in the same sarcastic tone he had used all afternoon. "Yes, we're going to eat," she said. "But you will be sitting on a sore bottom." He fell silent at that, and clicked off the radio in his red Mustang while turning back toward their apartment. He had been a brat all afternoon, and he knew it. He didn't open her car door after any of their stops, smarted off about several different things, and openly pouted when she wanted to go into a music store because he wanted to go to a sporting goods store. Spanking had been a part of their marriage from the beginning. They still had the same chemistry, the sparks between them that they had when they began dating five years ago. He knew he had been pushing his luck all afternoon, but he didn't realize he had crossed the line. She had spanked him hard with the small oak paddle three nights ago, and the bruises were just beginning to fade. While he loved receiving a hard spanking, he didn't relish the idea right now, on an already-sore bottom, just before dinner. His smart-aleck attitude immediately evaporated, and he tried to mend fences. "Jen, I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I know I was a brat at times today, but let's just go get supper like we had planned." "No," she said sharply, immediately. "It's too late for all that. You've been bad, and we need to address that right now. I think you'll have a far different attitude at the restaurant this way than if we just ignored your behavior." Neither of them spoke for a block or two. She turned the radio back on, popped in a Dar Williams CD. Within minutes, he swung the car into the parking lot of their apartment complex. "Go straight to the bedroom," she said as they got out. She picked up several packages from their shopping trip and began to climb the stairs to their second-floor apartment. He fumbled with the keys, but opened the door and stepped back to allow her to enter first. She laid the packages down on the couch and stopped short, watching him move toward the computer. "Excuse me, Jason. Did I not say ‘go straight to the bedroom?'" He stopped and looked at her stern expression. She was serious. He knew she hated it when he acted like a brat. "Yes, ma'am." "OK, then. Do it." He walked into their bedroom, leaving the door open. He heard her open a kitchen drawer, probably getting their special large wooden spoon she used to spank him. He heard her footsteps go to the closet where they kept the paddle, and then heard her go into the bathroom closet. That meant the bath brush. He groaned involuntarily. She had not told him to take off any of his clothes, so he sat on the side of the bed in his khaki pants and white golf shirt. In a moment, she came into the bedroom, carrying the wooden spoon, paddle and bath brush. She was still wearing what she wore shopping, jeans and a white T-shirt. Normally, there was a lot of scolding and slow build-up to his spankings. But she wasn't in the mood for that this afternoon, plus she was hungry. She hurriedly dumped the implements on their king-sized bed and climbed on the bed, on her knees. "Come here. Get on your knees," she said, gesturing to him as she spoke. "Take your shoes off. How many times have I told you not to touch the furniture with your shoes?" He complied, kicking off his loafers and climbing into position. He knelt over a pillow, pushing his ass up and putting his face in the pillow. He felt his thin khakis stretch tight over his bottom. "I'll give you a little warm-up, but this is a punishment spanking, and it will hurt," she said, spanking him lightly with her hand. "I want you to think about what a brat you've been. After I warm you up, you're getting 50 with the paddle. Then we'll go eat, and I expect you to behave much better." He knew better than to argue. "Yes, ma'am," he said, his voice muffled by the pillowcase. She rubbed his bottom and began to spank him harder with her hand. She swung her hand upward, catching him right on the "sweet spot," where his bottom met his thigh. After about a minute of that, the room silent but for the smack of her hand hitting his pants, she picked up the wooden spoon. He felt its hardness against his bottom, and pushed his bottom up higher to meet the smacks. She swung the wooden spoon hard, bringing it down with swift strokes on his ass. She spanked all over, both cheeks, high and low, not pausing, spanking him rapidly. Even through his pants and underwear, the blows felt like little firecrackers exploding against his skin. "Get up," she said finally. Jason rose from his kneeling position and stood at the side of the bed, looking at her. "Take your pants and shirt off," she told him. "And get back up here." She watched him unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. Then he pulled his shirt over his head and stood before her in just his briefs. He climbed obediently back in front of her and got back on his knees. She rubbed his bottom through his underwear, running her hand between his legs to feel his throbbing erection. She smiled to herself, and began spanking him again firmly with her hand. After a moment, she picked up the bath brush. SMACK. The first blow from the bath brush caught Jason off guard, since he had not seen it coming. He moaned a little and raised his ass higher, thrusting against the pillow. He was aroused and breathing heavily. She spanked him hard with the brush, reddening the skin at the edge of his underwear. Once she lifted the waistband of his briefs to see how red his skin was. He felt the stinging sensation and the hot achy feeling in his bottom. After about five minutes of hard spanking with the bath brush, he felt the bed shift as she reached for the paddle. She laid the paddle down in front of him, so he could see it, and put both hands on the elastic waistband of his underwear. "Time for these to come off, Jason," she said, pulling the briefs down as she spoke. He lifted his hips to help her, and watched over his shoulder as she tossed them on top of his other clothes. "OK, young man. You're going to get 50 hard ones with the paddle. I want your ass in the air. Are you ready?" "Yes ma'am," he said, his voice trembling a bit. She rubbed his bare bottom, looking at the faint bruises from his spanking earlier in the week. She picked up the paddle and held it against his ass. "I want to hear you count," she said. "Yes, ma'am." She raised her arm and brought the paddle down with all her strength, catching him cleanly on the left side of his ass. "OW. One," he said. SMACK, on the right side. "Two," he moaned. She alternated sides, spanking him fast and as hard as she could. The achy throb spread across his ass. He felt the hot stinging all over, made worse with each smack. He continued to count, but began squirming after 25. At 35, he fell off his knees and rolled onto his side. "Get UP," she said, punctuating her words with a smack from the paddle. "On-your-knees," she said, padding him once per word. "Yes, ma'am," he said as small tears started in his eyes. He was panting from the pain. "These last 15 you're really going to feel," she said firmly. "Count them. ". He felt the bed shift as she raised the paddle. She brought it down as hard as she could. "Ohhhhh." he moaned. "Thirty-six." He endured all 50. His ass felt like it was on fire, and it ached terribly. At the end, he fell onto his stomach. She stood up. "Get up. We're going to eat." He rolled over and gingerly sat up. His erection was rock-hard, and she saw him reach for his clothes. "No underwear, Jason." "What?" he asked her. "You heard me. Don't put on your underwear. Just put on your pants and shirt. I want you to feel this spanking all through dinner." He did as she said, and she was right. His ass burned through his pants as he sat in the car, and he winced again as they sat down at the Olive Garden restaurant. She watched him squirm and smiled. He was still shifting and fidgeting when the waitress walked up. She was very cute, with close-cropped brown hair, wide full lips, and brown eyes. She looked at the two of them and smiled at Jen. "How are we this evening?" she asked. "Just fine," Jen said, smiling back at the waitress, whose nametag read Sarah. Jen looked first at Sarah, then across the table at Jason. "Jason, tell Sarah why you're squirming." Jason stopped dead still and stared at Jen. "What?" he said in disbelief. "Go ahead. Tell her why you can't sit still," Jen said. Sarah stood still by the table, looking at the two of them. Jason hesitated, looked at Jen pleadingly. "TELL her." Jen's tone was firm this time. Jason's face turned bright red. He was embarrassed and stared at the table in front of him. "I just got a spanking," he said quietly. "Oooh, I'm sorry," said Sarah, still smiling. She turned to Jen and gave a conspiratorial wink. "But sometimes, that's what husbands need." Jen ordered for both of them while Jason played with his napkin. After Sarah walked away, he looked up at her. The combination of the spanking and the humiliation of telling the waitress about it had turned him on more than he thought possible. He looked at Jen with abject longing in his eyes. She would say later that he looked happier than she had ever seen him. They ate dinner slowly, the lust building between them. When they returned home, they all but tore each other's clothes off. Running to the bedroom, Jen grabbed a strap-on dildo from the bedroom closet and fastened it snugly around her waist. Bending Jason over the bed, she fucked his ass long and hard, rocking her hips and thrusting. Afterward, she climbed him on top of her strapon with him sitting on her lap as he rode it to orgasm,makinghim explode on her thigh.