As practitioners of open, positive sex, my husband and I are more attentive to each other, more patient with each other's feelings, and more grateful for our marriage than we have ever been before. By exploring consensual non-monogamy — and actively communicating with each other — my husband and I have learned meaningful lessons about each other. We've exposed facets of ourselves that had never presented in our monogamous relationship. I heard her raise the paddle again as she resumed my punishment. This time it was forty strokes, slow and measured. Each one bringing an involuntary cry of pain from me as the paddle burned across my naked bottom. “I see I’m getting your attention,” she sarcastically commented as she laid a particularly hard stroke at the bottom of my cheeks. Much to my surprise, I loved to see his gaze linger on other women. Seeing women interested in my husband was exhilarating — it affirmed and inflamed my desire for him to know that beautiful women thought he was sexy too. Another revelation: I am a compersionist, which means I get off on seeing the people I love give and receive pleasure. In that regard, for us, the club was a paradise.

Good boy. I want to hear you cry. I want you to become innocent as a baby and dependent under my discipline and care. Then I want to spank you some more. I’m going to spank my authority into your sweet, round bottom. Now, hold very still, sweetie. Can you show mommy how good you can be?”Please, Jane, I feel bad enough already. I was wrong. If spanking me is what you insist upon, I know our rules. I have to accept a spanking if you say so. I am really sorry and hope you can forgive me. I am humiliated already.” In addition to being available to members for advice and encouragement, I produce elegant, sexy parties. Slowly, I am fashioning a business. Born from embracing my own, distinctive, sexuality, and marveling in that of so many others, I am building membership with great care and intention, planning parties, and crafting that business to be based in community. OW, please not so hard,” I cried, hoping she would show a little mercy, but the next stroke was just as hard and she was far from finished. “You’re in no position to tell me how hard I should spank you,” she said. “You earned this and you’re going to get all of it. Just hope I don’t loose count and have to start over.” The paddle continued to leave its mark and I did my best not to disrupt her count.

My husband wanted a wife swap. I almost slapped him when he asked me first. I came from a conservative family. We don't even think of such stuff. But, he was so adamant for years. This is something about the world of open sex and sexy, sex-positive people that I love above all else: Men and women alike are supportive, positive, and complimentary. Imagine my delight to be a forty-something housewife who hears, "Wow, your ass is a work of art!" Who wouldn't get a little bump hearing that? In my monogamous life, I rarely received this kind of adulation. The monogamous, married man doesn't often throw around compliments like "You look incredibly sexy tonight" to his married female friend at the family barbeque. At the sex club, I was complimented often, and the confidence I gained profoundly affected other areas of my life. My heart started pounding as I heard her walking down the hallway. My time was up. The execution of the sentence was at hand and it was going to hurt. She walked into the room and commented on what a nice target I presented, and then proceeded to tie my hands to the bench. “I know you’re going to wiggle tonight so I’m going to make sure you stay put,” she said as she pulled the strap tight around my legs. She was right. I couldn’t get up if I wanted to and now I was completely at her mercy. She didn’t give me any.

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I was just about to mow the lawn when Debby called me and asked me to come into the living room. When I stepped in I saw that Debby and Sandra were sitting on the couch, there was a dining room chair facing the couch and Debby had her favorite hair brush in her hand. Debby told me to have a seat on the chair. She told me that she invited Sandra over to see how we handle problems in our house. She talked about men needing discipline to get control over themselves and all the benefits that a good spanking achieves. I got the feeling that it wasn’t so much a lecture for me, but a lesson for Sandra. I looked over to Sandra and although she still looked quite shy there was also a look of eagerness in her eyes. I really was being punished. This was no play acting on her part, it was the real thing. The worst part was she was right. I should remember to write down the withdrawals, but for some reason I usually forget. Now my ass was paying for it, and if the warm up was any indication, it was going to be a long, painful evening. I didn’t know how right I was.

You always are looking to blame me, aren’t you? If the teller made a mistake, it wasn’t my fault. Every little thing that goes wrong in this world is not my fault.”When I came out of the shower Sandra was gone and Debby gave me a big hug for being the “Greatest Husband” in the world. She thanked me for being there for her friend. The next Monday I could barely sit at my desk at work when flowers came for me. They were from Sandra, the card just said “thank you” and there was a coupon to a day of golf at a good local club. Even though it hurt like mad, it feels great to know that I’m fulfilling my end of the DWC contract of being there at my wife’s discretion. I’ll stop when I’m good and ready,” she told me, “and for the next few days you’re going to think about why you got this whipping every time you sit down.” She gave me another thirty or so swats before she laid her paddle on the table and said, “that should be warm enough. Now I want you to get up and go in the bedroom. I’ll be in in a couple of minutes, and you know how I want you.”“Yes ma’am,” I replied standing up. “Tell me,” she demanded, wanting to hear it from me. Marge became flustered when her husband asked where she had been. Because of the “extracurricular activities” in the hotel room after the movie, she was gone longer than usual when making one of her “special” trips to the big city. In the past, her husband had no idea she had left town or, for that matter, even the house. He wasn’t one to ask her how her day went. The young wife came up with an excuse about searching for a present for an upcoming birthday and the trusting preacher accepted it. Marge hated lying and worried about adding another sin to the list she’d have to answer to on her day of judgment. After another furious burst she slowed the pace and made sure every inch of my bottom was thoroughly reddened. From the tops of my cheeks to halfway down my thighs, she made sure I was beet red and ready for the bench. She had never paddled me this long or this hard before and I began begging her to stop. Now, she questioned, “has my bad boy learned who makes the rules?” SPANK “Yes ma’am, you do,” I cried. “Are you going to do as I say, when I say?” SPANK “Yes ma’am always.” SPANK “You are lying,” she said, in addition to a blistered bottom, how would you like to go to work with the fresh taste of soap in your mouth?”“No ma’am, please don’t do that.”“Then answer the question without exaggeration.” The brush came down three times and I cried, “I will always try to be good and to follow your rules,”“That’s better,’ she said, “and when you do break the rules, and you will, what can you expect from me?”“You will punish me as you see fit,” I said. “Right.” SPANK “Now I am going to finish this spanking. When I get through you are to go stand in the corner until you can stop crying. Then wash your face, and come to me for inspection before you go to work. Understand?”“YYYes ma’am.”“Good, now one last thing. You are going to beg me to spank you in a manner that you know I will anyway.” If you do a good job and ask me nice, I might go easier on you. If not……….