Stress Relief Requested, a tale by Master Tom.

The door opened and I glanced up, smiled lovingly at Philly, my wife, as she popped her head round the edge.

“Are you busy Tom?” she asked, “can I have a word?” We both knew it was important or she wouldn’t have asked, and as we shared this study, each having a computer and a desk, we often came in and out when the other was working. I smiled and put down the customer profile I had been checking.

“Come in and welcome sweetie, what’s it about?” I asked cheerfully.

hilly slipped in gracefully, as she did everything, came round to my side of the desk and leaned against the edge, took my hand in hers and squeezed and looked me in the eye, her expression calm but serious. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve been stressing a lot this week, or it’s begun to show this week,” she started softly, clearly trying to make her feelings clear, she continued in that same soft tones. “It started with the project I took on for Ralph, I enjoyed the challenge but what with that your heir’s party and the tight deadline“ her voice tapered away. Ralph heads one of the agencies that often recommends Phil for demanding work, my heir is our eldest son, who does demand a lot of attention from us both. I maintained a calm and attentive expression suspecting why Phil was coming to me like this, but letting her find her own way.

“Well,” my wife continued, still speaking softly but more confidently, as if a final decision had been made. “I finished the project, it looks as though another is in the pipeline but I am still wound up like a clock spring.” Indeed I had in fact noted this and had been considering taking action myself, but I was so pleased now to have waited, letting my one true love show her trust in me. “Before I take out my stress and shitty feelings on you or the children I think you had best reign me in Tom,” she finished calmly then raised my hand to her lips, briefly nibbled a knuckle, kissed the back of my hand, sending a shiver through me.

To explain, our relationship is based on Philly’s need to have some elements of her life controlled by me. Intellectually she is my superior, but perhaps because of her genius, she had a habit of coasting, under performing. Then she would get guilty about herself, sometimes she would try and hide this from herself by picking fault with others. Conversely (as on this occasion) her brain would go into overdrive and not stop, so she would try to break that cycle by attacking others. Since the night we got engaged I have supervised some parts of Phil’s life and made her achieve her potential, and when needed I have ‘reigned her in’ made her slow down, take time to reflect. I have done this by disciplining my wife as I saw fit, but always with her consent, and even on a few occasions like this evening at her request.

I couldn’t help but smile at my wife, we know each other oh so well, we knew that we would both feel better as a result of this, knew that her cries would release so much, knew the sweet after spell would be a thing of wonder. Philly was dressed for bed, her usual long T-shirt covered by a sheer silk dressing gown. Nodding agreement I said “yes you are right, I had noticed and if this hadn’t come up tonight it would probably have come up very soon. I think a good dose of my slipper across your backside would do you the world of good sweetheart, you had best slip that dressing gown off.”

It is strange how Philly’s eyes widened apprehensively at the word slipper even though she herself had instigated this. However she remained calm and without a word let the gown fall down her back and gathering it together she tossed it onto a chair. No matter how many hours I watch her I am always amazed at the pleasure and pride I feel when I watch her lithe form perform even simple tasks, like now the way her breasts stretched and tightened her T-shirt, the way her hip bone became prominent as she twisted.

Standing I took Philly by the hand and led her to a position about three feet from my desk. As I went back to my chair I said “bend over and grip the edge of the desk sweetheart, you know the position.” Sitting I watched her nod and reach forward and bend from the waist, hands reaching for the desk, giving me an oh so brief but delicious sight of her breasts swaying free beneath her shirt. She shuffled a quarter step so her back was almost parallel to the floor her waist being slightly taller than the desk, her fingers but not her palms were on the desk. Without looking I knew her legs would be stretched tight and straight. Her head had gone between her arms but now she raised it enough so she could look at me.

“I don’t think there is much point in a long lecture Philly,” I said as I reached down and retrieved my large old fashioned crepe soled slipper from its’ drawer. “The whole family, yourself included, has noticed your mood deteriorating, and hopefully this should restore a balance.” As I spoke I had been deliberately folding the left hand side of the slipper opening down, then the right side, and had now got a firm grip of the slipper in my right hand, testing the grip and balance by tapping the sole against my left palm. Her eyes had been flickering between my eyes as I spoke and my preparations, and now she just whispered “thank you Sir,” these occasions being the only time she does call me Sir. It is wondrous to me that Philly can appear apprehensive, calm and trusting all at the same time, holding that position, knowing she is about to be spanked firmly by me.

Standing I moved to a position to Phil’s left, slightly behind her, noting that as I moved her head had sunk back to its’ correct position between her arms. I held the slipper down and took a few moments to drink in the sight of my wife, back straight, legs long, slender and tightly muscled, her bottom rounded beautifully, every contour clear beneath the thin cotton of her T-shirt. “Bare your bottom Philly,” I said gently but firmly.

Sometimes when I discipline my wife I insist she is naked, other times I like to make the final exposure, control the situation. Sometimes though, like tonight, there can be no finer sight than watching the one you love reach back, torso lowering slightly for balance causing her bottom to appear to rise higher. Fascinated I savored every moment as her finger slid from half way up her thighs up towards then gripped the hem of her T-shirt, gathering it and pushing it up over her luscious buttocks onto her back. Her feet were about a foot apart, and between her legs, at their juncture, I could just see a small, moist pink spot peeking.

This ultimate act of submission and trust as Philly bared her bottom for me, knowing what was to come is one I find both erotic and humbling. I do really understand how lucky I am to have found such a soulmate, one who needs control and discipline in her life, is fulfilled by having someone care enough to want to share her torments and help her through them. It helps too that I really do love the sight of my wife’s bottom after I have disciplined her, the colours are gorgeous to my eyes. Now as Philly’s fingers returned to the desk I prepared once more to restore her inner peace, her balance.

Placing the slipper against the top of Philly’s right cheek I gave her six brisk, firm swats, working alternatively from right cheek to left, the tops, the lower bits then the middle. The silence of the office was shattered by the surprisingly loud thwacks as the crepe sole made contact with her naked flesh. I was delighted to see that each oval imprint soon filled with a luscious pink, I heard Philly gasp at each of the first four swats, heard her squeal when the last two overlapped the higher and lower crimson ovals. Her body was rocked by the firm swats but her position remained unchanged other than the inevitable (and lovely) wriggling of her hips. While I took a few seconds to enjoy this vision of beauty quiet had returned. I could now hear Philly taking deep breaths, in through her nose, out through her mouth as she absorbed the sting; a sting she told me was both hard to bear but so necessary to bear.

I broke through the silence by firmly saying, “Touch your toes Philly.” There were a few moments hesitation while Philly worked out what I had said, what I wanted, then her head nodded between her arms. Her hands slid off the desk and she bent from her waist until her fingertips lightly rested on her toes. This had the effect of stretching her thigh muscles, tightening her already firm buttocks, offering me a better view of her moistly gleaming centre, and it revealed a white area just above the thigh creases. Resting my left hand on Philly’s back I touched the white area at the top of her left thigh to alert her then quickly, firmly swatted each to spread the colour all over her cheeks.

The loud thwacks of the crepe kissing her bottom immediately drew loud squeals from Philly, made her take a half step each time. The feelings running through me amazing as I stepped back and admired my handiwork, just for a few moments. Philly’s hair was pointing at the floor, her T-shirt had slipped exposing her breasts that were now bobbing and weaving as Philly breathed deeply, her flanks were covered with a light sheen of perspiration, her bottom, still so enticingly offered was a sight of wondrous beauty. I shook myself and said, “Fingers back on the desk Philly.”

Philly took two or three deep breaths as she resumed her former position, I saw her fingertips were now white as she was gripping the desk with fingers and thumbs. My slipper is large, very large and I now put it high up on Philly’s sweet cheeks, spanning both cheeks, covering about half of each previously warmed spot. Slower now, more deliberately, more firmly I swatted the bottom of the woman I have always loved, the woman who means more than life to me. First across the top, then the lower cheeks then twice right across the centre, the last two hard swats overlapping to some extent the areas I had covered with the first six and the preceding two.

The effect on Philly was electric. As the loud thwacks reverberated round the room the first made Philly squeal louder than before, the second wrenched a scream from her, brought forth the first sobs. When the third landed the cumulative stinging again made her scream out NO. But brave and true as she is her position never changed other than now her bottom was weaving and twisting to try and relieve the pain, but settled quickly enough to receive the final swat, a swat that again had her screaming and twisting, her knees bending slightly. Her head dropped below her arms, her breathing was now just great big child like sobs, and I could hear her sniffling as her tears loosened her sinuses.

The blood was surging through my veins as I stood and watched and listened to my darling. Her wriggling bottom was a red centre circled by crimson, shiny and shimmering as her movements changed the angle the light played off that sweet skin. Her wracking sobs and sniffling were subdued now but she was obviously still in pain, but with her usual fortitude she remained in place waiting for my voice to release her, indeed she may even have expected further punishment, certainly she would accept it if I had thought it necessary. However by her manner, the way she had squealed and released her tears convinced me I had achieved what we both desired. I continued to enjoy the delectable red bottom wriggling, the wet pink between her legs hidden then revealed again until her sobs became long shuddering sighs.

“You may stand and rub now, Philly,” I said and smiled to myself as her hands reached to rub her sore bottom even as she straightened. I dropped the slipper on the desk and gathered my love close. As usual she buried her head in my chest and gripped me tight and let her tears flow again mumbling incoherently “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it hurts so much, I’ll try harder, I will, really I will.” Philly sounded like a child who had been punished and was now seeking proof she was still loved, her tears were no longer of pain but rather a release of all her inner turmoil. My role, as ever, was to be there, hold her, and let her know how much she was loved. I held her and murmured words of affection and love, told her everything was all right now. Eventually her breathing eased and she turned her tear stained face up to smile shyly into my eyes, she whispered “thank you Sir,” even as my lips reached to brush her mouth softly. I brushed her hair aside and kissed her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, tasting the hot salt of her tears then gathered my love close and carried her up to our bedroom. All the way up the stairs she became looser in my arms, a small smile on her lips, a look of peace about her.

We lay on the bed together, Philly half on my chest, an arm around me, my hand slowly stroking her hair, her breathing was so shallow as to be almost imperceptible. After perhaps half an hour a tremble went through her, she stirred, lifted her lips to kiss my chin and said “ughhhh I need a quick shower, I got sweaty and my face must be a mess.” I smiled and told her she looked wonderful to me but that yes perhaps a shower before we made love might be good. Her eyes lit up and a slow smile spread at my words, a smile which grew broader as I bade her remove the T-shirt here before she went to shower.

Without a word she knelt on the bed and raised the T-shirt high over her head stretching and lifting her breasts, knowing how I loved that so. Then slowly, with an exaggerated swing to her hips Philly walked over to the en-suite, knowing my eyes would be locked on her still rosy cheeks. She knows how erotic I found this sight to be, having had more than a few spankings over my lap just so that I could enjoy just such a sight. Spankings she submitted to eagerly, enthusiastically telling me she felt safe loved, cared for, proud to be there just for our mutual pleasure as my hand warmed her bottom. She said it really confirmed my never-ending commitment to her.

I undressed and piled pillows against the headboard so that when Philly returned I was reclining against them and she could climb aboard me, straddle me, run her breasts against my chest, kiss me, hold my head in her hands. I pulled her close, looked over her shoulder and stared into the dressing mirror at the sight of my wife’s bottom bobbing up and down, side to side as she moved her hips almost in a spiral. Loving the sight of her still pink bottom, my mind ran back over how she had looked as the slipper had driven the poison from her and our lovemaking reached a new level.

And so ended another day, another hard time for the light of my life. We would now enjoy a period of peace and great happiness. I would touch Philly affectionately more often, we would share secret smiles, as she passed my desk the back of her hand would trail across my cheek or my neck, we would glory in making love. Some time in the future, maybe weeks, maybe months, something would start to bury itself in my sweet wife’s soul and we would have to go through this or something similar again. Perhaps just a slipper to reign her in, maybe a strapping or the cane to bring her back, but we would go through it together again. But for now we shall consume the peace and happiness, share our bed and spankings with joy. Our lives are complete.

The End Copyright © 2005 Master Tom