In a soft voice, I heard myself say. "No Sir. I was hoping that you would remove it in our hotel room."

One moment, I was in a submissive posture…the next moment, I was feeling Steve’s arms around me; I felt so safe. He kissed me. My pussy was on fire. Steve’s cock was felt against my semi-naked body. We shook off the desire to make love, we quickly changed our clothes; we got to the airport on time.
Steve and I registered at the hotel using our new name, Mr. and Mrs. Steven Wilson. When we stepped inside our hotel suite, Steve took my hand and led me to a corner of the main living room. I knew what was expected and my heart was beating a mile a minute…I was anticipating this moment. I was standing in the corner, because I knew what Steve’s intentions were. I was going to be given a spanking on my honeymoon. It was going to be a spanking that would set the tone for our marriage.

What was transpiring, had been my idea…months prior, I had asked Steven if he would give me a spanking on our honeymoon. I wanted Steven to be "the" authority in our marriage. Surely, he had been "my" authority figure while we were dating. On many occasions, I had spent some quality time over Steven’s lap. While dating, Steven had always allowed me to voice my opinions and concerns…he always said that I should have an equal voice in making any decisions. That wasn’t going to change, just because we were now husband and wife. And so, the authority figure was going to remain intact. I wanted Steven to monitor my behavioral patterns…I wanted to be his submissive wife; I wanted to obey his every word. And so, for many months leading up to this point in time, I had been anticipating this spanking.

The wedding and reception…the long flight; we were tired. I stood in the corner and yawned…and yet, I wasn’t tired. I felt Steven standing behind me…I remained in the corner when he reached his arms around my waist. In a magical moment, he had un-snapped my jeans, my zipper was lowered…he tugged my pants down around my upper thighs…followed by my panties. The butt plug was still in place. My heart once again, skipped a beat…Steven had removed the plug from my anus. A sense of relief was immediately felt. Steven than asked me a rather simple question. "Who owns your ass?"

"You do Sir."

I felt Steven walking away…I heard the water in the bathroom sink; I knew he was cleaning the plug.

"Step away from the corner and come to me."

Steven was seated on the sofa. On his right side, I noticed a few paddles…the one paddle that caught my eye…the dreaded paddle that was made of ash wood. It had eight holes in it…when it made contact with my bare bottom, the sting was incredible…the sound was terrifying. The sound of the paddle making contact with my bare bottom was nothing in comparison to my voice…my screams; I was always brought to tears. I knew that Steven was taking to heart…what I had asked him to do.

I stood no more than 5’ away from him. I hobbled from the corner to where I was standing…my jeans and panties were down around my thighs. Steven was looking directly at my pussy. The night before our wedding, I had shaven my pubic area smooth. I was well aware of my wetness and I noticed the bulge in Steven’s pants. The spanking would be given and then, I would be given the treat of enjoying his cock.
I knew that I was going to submit to the spanking. There was no reason to voice my concerns, I didn’t have a reason to plea…there were no empty promises to make…there was no need to apologize for anything. I was standing before my husband…music to my ears; my husband. When he told me to place myself over his lap…I surrendered myself to him. I immediately felt his hardness against my body…I was at home; I felt safe.

My spanking began…

I knew that Steven was preparing my bottom for what was to follow. He began with a series of light-to-medium hand spanks…delivered over both of my ass cheeks and upper thighs. The warming up period stings…but, it’s a bearable sensation. My legs kick and yet, Steven will hold me firmly in place while I remain over his lap…and all the while, his hand finds its target.

"I will hold you accountable. I will test your submissiveness. I will challenge your mind and body." As Steven was explaining my submissive state of mind to me; his hand continued to find its mark. I was sobbing…whimpering…my bottom I felt, was becoming pink, if not already reddened. I knew firsthand, that my spanking hadn’t even begun. The paddles hadn’t been used.

The painful stimuli from Steven’s hand began to register in my brain; I was sobbing. I wanted to reach around and caress my ass cheeks, but I knew that this act was prohibited. Steven landed 25 swats…50 swats…truthfully speaking, I have no idea how many times his hand came into contact with my bottom and thighs. Steven was acutely aware of my body language…he was aware of my limitations. We both knew that my limitations were a "work in progress." I felt the warmth when his hand began to caress my ass cheeks…and so too, I knew that the paddle was going to be felt next.

I loved this specific moment…when Steven would caress my ass cheeks. The hand spanking was over…and though I was sobbing from the painful stimuli of the spanking; my heart was singing a happy tune. His caresses were soft and loving…though my pants and panties were still in place around my thighs…he forced his hand between my thighs; his hand had found my wetness. His fingers were teasing the outer folds of my pussy…amidst my sobbing; I was aroused.

With his hands between my legs…he finally was able to force his finger into my pussy. The entire length of his middle finger was embedded into my pussy…my body reacted and so badly, did I want to reach my orgasm. He moved his finger around and around…inside and back out, he was able to find my clit; he teased me endlessly. As if he knew that I was about to reach an orgasm…he withdrew his hand from between my thighs.

I was no longer concerned with the warmth of my bottom…I just simply want to feel Steven’s cock in my body. I remember saying, "Please Steven…please take me into the bedroom."
Steven chuckled.

As he chuckled, his finger began to trace the crack of my ass. Seemingly, in his own timing, he finger delved into the crack of my ass; I felt his finger against my anus. It was somewhat sore…having had the butt plug in place, for so long of a time. "Did you give yourself an enema before you put the plug in place?"

I could have lied. But, my lie would have been exposed. Steven knew that my bottom was dirty…he removed the plug; I knew that my feces were seen on the plug. At that particular moment, I felt so ashamed…Steven lovingly played with my anus, but his finger never went inside my asshole. I sensed his disappointment. My relationship with Steven wasn’t based on lies and so, I heard myself say, "No Sir, I didn’t"

Steven removed his finger…the caresses had stopped. Those painful moments of waiting…sensing his body movements, I knew that he had reached for the paddle. At long last, he rested the paddle on my bottom. The first swat…upon hearing the sound of the paddle making contact with my bottom…I lost my breath; I then heard my voice shriek out in pain.

Steven spanked me…he was not into abusing me. There is a divine difference. On our our honeymoon…Steven showered my bottom and upper thighs with that dreaded paddle. The holes in the paddle seemed to burn into my skin…I could feel the welts form. It’s as if I could visualize my bottom becoming red…then, even redder and perhaps, a hint of purple was seen. Steven was providing me with something that I needed…I needed to feel his strength, his determination; his love.

There was no safe word to say…

We never created a safe word. He had always said that he was responsible for my spankings and that he would always be aware of my body language…and if I was too cry, he would be cognizant of this. Lying over his lap on that evening in question…in time, I did in fact, cry like a baby. My legs kicked in a frantic state, the pain was electrifying. A second or two between swats…whether it was my ass cheeks or upper thighs, the paddle left its mark. In time, my screams were heard…tears flowed down my cheeks…and then, it was over.

I squirmed on his lap…I kicked my legs and yet, the thought of removing myself from Steven’s lap…well, this was never a consideration. My whining, my cries of anguish…my tears…nothing was going to stop Steven from administering the spanking that I wanted. From being draped over his lap…I was now in his arms; my bottom was simply on fire.

Steven kissed me…and as I settled into his loving arms, my crying eventually subsided; he took me by the hand and led me into the bedroom. As husband and wife; we made love. Truth be known…the first time his hand had come into contact with my bottom; we were making love.

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