"Honey, I'm Home" is a short story from the So Spank Me! collection by Jay Lawrence and Edmund Debarquet. A fifties husband shows his wife that he is head of the house.
"Mommy! Mommy! Tommy won't let me watch The Lone Ranger!"
I looked down at the moon-faced little girl in the short plaid dress. Her big brown eyes threatened to spill angry tears down her freckle speckled cheeks.
"Boys will be boys, Janie. Where is Lucy-Ann? I hope you haven't left her out in the yard again."
My nine-year-old daughter stifled a sob and rubbed at her brimming eyes.
"But I don't want to play with dolls, Mommy. I want…"
Crisply, I placed a finger over Janie's pouting lips.
"Remember! 'I want' never gets. Don't you know your manners yet?"
"But it's not fair!"
Life isn't fair, Janie. You'll discover that truth soon enough.
"That's it, young lady. Run along and play!"
I watched my little girl wander dejectedly into the yard, dragging her sandal-clad feet through the closely clipped grass. The screen door closed slowly behind her. Muffled sounds of gunfire and Apache war cries issued from the basement. Briskly, I tied a clean apron over my dress and began to make some Jell-o for the children's evening meal. A car pulled into the driveway and I glanced anxiously at the kitchen clock. Surely it couldn't be that time already?
"Hi, honey. What's for dinner? I could eat a horse!"
My husband tossed his hat onto the Formica topped table, then wrapped his arms around my waist. I wriggled in the tight embrace and giggled uncomfortably.
"Good heavens, Dick! You're like a boa constrictor! Do mind my hair!"
I reached up to touch my new coiffure, the result of a lengthy shampoo and set session at the local beauty parlor. Smirking, Dick released me, whistled in admiration, then gave my bottom a loving pat.
"Very pretty, I'm sure. So, what's cooking, wifey? I sure don't smell anything."
He took off his jacket, hung it over the back of a chair, then began to lift the lids off the saucepans on top of the range. Biting my bottom lip in chagrin, I finished mixing the Jell-o and poured the hot red liquid into several Melamine bowls. One of the saucepan lids clattered onto the stove top and I jumped, startled. I looked up meekly to see my husband standing with his arms folded across his chest, glaring at me through his horn rimmed spectacles. I set the dishes of Jell-o to cool and made to confess, my cheeks as warm and scarlet as the dessert.
"Well, vanity, thy name is woman! Have you any idea how hungry I am, June? It's a sad day when a man comes home from work to an empty plate!"
I swallowed hard and looked at the toes of my high-heeled shoes. He was right, of course. There was absolutely no excuse. Shamed, I fidgeted with the frilled hem of my apron. What would his mother say if she found out? I'd never hear the end of it.
"There's some salad and left-over meat loaf in the refrigerator…"
"Leftovers! You expect your husband to eat scraps?"
I gazed out of the kitchen window, through the fine net curtains, at Janie, swinging slowly on the garden seat. She seemed to be singing softly to herself. Her doll lay discarded on the grass. With a start, I realized that my husband was locking the screen door and unbuttoning his shirt cuffs.
"A lesson for you, madam!"
My heart leapt in my chest as he advanced upon me, rolling up his sleeves. I shrank back against the stainless steel sink as Dick's strong hands grasped my wrists and pulled me to the center of the room. The gunfire in the basement reached a crescendo as my husband bent me over the kitchen table.
His furious fingers found the hem of my dress and snatched it up to my waist, exposing my legs and bottom. There was a brief pause, during which I knew he was appraising the backs of my thighs, the soft smooth expanse of flesh between my stocking tops and panties.
"Panties on – or on the bare?"
I dared not answer his question. Terrified, I closed my eyes and waited for his decision.
"On the bare, I think."
Slowly, he peeled my panties from my quivering buttocks. My face flushed even deeper with the shame of exposure. What if Tommy were to rush into the kitchen? I strained my ears to listen for the familiar theme tune of his favorite show but all was quiet. My panties slid down to my ankles, where they rested in an impotent heap. With a sudden rush of embarrassment, I realized that I had become very moist between my legs.
"I hate to do this, June, I really do. But you must understand that it's for your own good. Really, it hurts me more than it hurts you."
Resolutely, I raised my naked bottom for his disciplining hand. It wasn't often that he felt it necessary to spank me. And I knew, in my heart of hearts, that it did us both a world of good. My heart was beating like a little tin drum as the first sharp slap landed on my trembling rear.
Dick enjoyed tanning me. I could tell from the way his breathing changed, became quicker, with a slight gasp to it. I knew he loved exercising his manly power over his little wife, just as he delighted in pushing his thing between my thighs when we lay in bed. It was the thrill of capture. What he didn't know was how much I enjoyed being spanked.
"Ow, ow, ow!"
He had picked up a rubber spatula from the jar on the counter and proceeded to apply it with gusto to my rapidly heating behind. I knew my buttocks looked just like the cheeks of my face, warm and scarlet. I imagined that I was on the kitchen ceiling, looking down, admiring his powerful, sinewy arms as they administered a stringent whipping. My bottom wobbled slightly, like the Jell-o in the yellow bowls. It quivered with each sharp slap and my whole body shifted and wriggled from side to side. I knew Dick wanted to unfasten his pants and push his thing deep within my soaking cleft.
"Oh, oh, oh!"
Sometimes the sensations were so pleasurable they would quite overcome me. I jolted as if I'd had an electric shock. I knew that Dick's pants were full and stretched by his thing, his solid, straining thing, which yearned to pierce me. Sometimes I had to push my fingers into my mouth to stifle my ecstatic cries. Oh, if he only knew!
"And that, madam, is what happens when you choose to neglect your household duties!"
His fingers felt cool against my throbbing bottom. Slowly, shamefully, I pulled up my panties, which immediately clung to the moist oasis between my thighs, causing tiny thrilling aftershocks to surge through my excited body. I tidied my dress as Dick unlocked the screen door and Tommy came clattering up the basement stairs.
"Pop! You should have seen what happened on The Lone Ranger tonight!"
My husband laughed and ruffled our son's short hair affectionately. I opened the refrigerator and took out the meat loaf and the bowl of salad, as Tommy went charging out of the kitchen door and into the yard with a blood-curdling war cry. Dick grinned.
"Boys will be boys."
How fortunate I was to be married to a real man! Singing gaily, I prepared the evening meal, as my poor, tired husband put his feet up and began to read the newspaper.
Isn't she lucky!