“I think you need to be getting maintenance spankings” I watched his face, noting the reaction. He knew he’d been acting up, recently; but he’d obviously not been expecting this. “Go get your nightdress on, and come back here.” I could read him, all too well. I know his cock just twitched, locked up in its cage. The very cage he’d bought, the day after I mentioned the idea of having control of his erections. That thought reminded me of the key, nestled in my cleavage, where he, and anyone who looked, could see it. I threw out an encouraging “good slut”, as he obediently headed upstairs without a murmur. I loved the feeling of control over him, and it was becoming obvious he loved being controlled too. When he came back down, I nodded appreciatively at his choice of the shortie nightie, in a most flattering pale gold colour. I watched as he approached, stopping uncertainly, near the couch. “Well? We don’t have all night. Get over my lap!” I smiled in pleasure as he obediently bent over my knees, settling himself as I stroked his upturned ass through the soft satin, enjoying the gentle moans of pleasure. “There has been way too much bratting, of late; husband. Too much slacking of your chores.” My hand connected with his bottom with a sharp slap, eliciting a surprised gasp. “We’re going to have to work on your behaviour, aren’t we?” Another slap, and a quiet mutter. “What? Speak up; I can’t hear when you talk under your breath.” Slap. His voice was stronger this time. “Yes, my wife. We need to improve my behaviour.” I grinned, as my hand connected again; beginning to build a rhythm against his cheeks. “I’m glad you agree. And of course I will help you improve, however I can. Aren’t you grateful for my help?” He whimpered as the slaps continued, my hand beginning to sting from the slaps. “Yes, Ma’am. I am grateful. Thank you.” The last came from between gritted teeth and yelps; I guess my slaps were having the desired effect. “Until further notice. Sunday evening. Seven PM sharp. You will come to me, in your nightie, and ask for your spanking. Do you understand me?” I’m guessing his face was as red as his ass cheeks were becoming; the steady slaps serving to heat up his poor ass. “Yes, wife. I understand. Owww.” I paused, my hand now decidedly feeling the effects of the spanking. “Fetch the paddle, and ask me to finish your spanking with it.” He got up gingerly, rubbing at his backside, and went to get the paddle, as I’d asked.

When he came back into the room, he not only had the paddle I’d requested, but also the silicon ring gag. I looked up at him, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

“I…. Brought you the paddle you asked for Miss; to finish my spanking.” I nodded, taking it from him, and laying it beside me. I gestured toward the gag. “And…….?” I felt myself growing damp with desire at the expression on his face. “Come on. You obviously brought it for a reason.” I sighed, in mock exasperation. “I know you were probably expecting me to take it and gag you with it. But it’s not going to be that easy.” He squirmed. “Well, because my mouth gets me in trouble; I thought it might be beneficial, Miss.” I nodded. “I see. You’ve anticipated me very well, in fact. As your mouth got you partway into this mess; it seems appropriate that it too, receives some attention.” I held out my hand, as he passed it over, with an unreadable expression. I lifted the paddle, and tapped my lap. “Position.” He laid across me again, and I reached down, pulling the hem of his nightie up onto his back, baring his rather reddened bottom, and tapped gently with the paddle, getting the feel, before beginning the second half of the punishment.

The surprised and pained yelps were music to my ears, as I continued to discipline my errant partner. He was almost crying when I finished; I could feel the heat rising from his well-reddened cheeks. “Get up, and kneel between my legs.” It’s hard to explain, but he felt docile as he obeyed. I lifted the gag, watching as he opened his mouth, as he’d been taught, for me to fit the silicon ring into his mouth, and strap it in place. I patted the couch beside me, giggling as he, very carefully, sat down beside me. “I hope that a weekly spanking will help you remember who’s in charge around here. And if it doesn’t, you’ll just have to be disciplined, until you do.” He looked at me, over the gag, as I pulled him in against me, my hand idly toying, through the silky material; knowing damn well the effect I’d be having on that poor, locked up cock. “You can cuddle in as long as you need, to get yourself composed. Then I want you on your back, with your waist across my legs, so your head is resting on my arm.” He nodded, cuddling in tighter for a few minutes, as my hand slowly stroked and soothed. When his breathing had calmed, he sat upright, turning his body to scoot towards me, laying face up across me. I smiled. “Good slut. Here are your rules, for the next part of your discipline. Rule one is the most important.” I glanced down, grinning at the artificial “O” of surprise, comically held on his face by the ring gag. “You are to not to touch my hands or arms, at any point. Hands are to stay at your sides. Failure means we start from the beginning, with another spanking and paddling.” He shook his head, bottom evidently protesting strongly to that idea. I stopped, and looked down at him, smiling sweetly. “If you’d prefer, they can be cuffed out of the way?” He looked relieved at the idea, and nodded quickly. I pushed him upright, so he was sitting to the side of me, facing away. It was the work of a moment to fasten the short chain on his cuffs together behind him, and lower him back over my lap. My right arm curled around, behind his head; and I reached out with my hand, to lightly cup his chin, holding his head steady. He looked up at me, and I could sense the unease and trepidation in his demeanour. “I’m willing to guess that, right about now, you’re regretting all the backchat and bratting?” I could feel him try to nod, though my hand prevented any actual movement. “Then I guess you’d better remember the next few minutes, and recall them next time your mouth wants to smart off at me.”

With that, I brought my left hand up to his face, hand closed except for the first two fingers, which I pushed into his mouth, through the gag. He couldn’t move his head backward, as the arm of the couch was there; and my right hand stopped him twisting his head sideways. There was absolutely nothing he could do, to prevent my fingers delving deeper; feeling him gag helplessly on them; his eyes beginning to water, uncontrollably, as I continued slipping my fingers in and out of his mouth, effectively finger fucking his face.

As he moaned and tried to control his retching, I looked down at him, dispassionately. “You have brought all of this on yourself. But I have to take some blame, by being too soft with you. That is going to change.” Fresh tears sprung from his eyes, as my middle finger touched the back of his palate. “I’ve tried ‘letting’ you change your behaviour; and that hasn’t worked. So I’ll just have to train you, like you’d train a puppy.” I tried getting a third finger in, but the ring gag wasn’t large enough. I made a mental note to look for an alternative, and carried on abusing his mouth hole for a few more minutes, alternating between reminding him why it was happening, and just enjoying the gurgles and occasional wild struggles, as he tried to deal with my invading fingers.

When I stopped, and pulled them out, he looked a mess. Tears ran from his eyes; drool from the gag. I considered wiping his face, but decided the lesson may be better learnt if the mess dried on his face. I wiped my fingers on the fabric of his nightdress, and sat back, keeping my left arm across him, holding him in place, while he slowly got his breathing and composure once more.

Eventually, I allowed him up, and removed the gag and chain between his cuffs; then pulled him back down across me. I watched as he worked his jaw, getting some feeling back into it. His voice was a litttle croaky and unsteady when he first tried to speak. “Thank you wife. I am sorry for my misbehaviour; and I will try my best to improve.” I smiled. “Thank you. You may not have enjoyed either part of your punishment; but you are lucky that I didn’t put some soap on my hand first. If you give me cause to repeat the lesson, those fingers will be very soapy. You have been warned.” He shuddered at the threat. “Please, no. I couldn’t deal with that.” I shrugged. “It isn’t up to me. It’s up to you, whether you give me cause to, or not.” His arms came up then, to wrap around me, as he turned his head against my stomach. His muffled words made my thighs clench, with desire. “Thank you for my discipline. I love you so much.”