Curing Her Home
Shopping Addiction! 
A Cute Contemporary Domestic Discipline Ditty by Jaycee

"Television shopping, television shopping, television shopping!" George screamed in exasperation. "You’ll bankrupt me with your addiction. And we’re running out of places to keep all of this junk you buy!"

Both Kathy and George were sitting in bed watching a shopping network and Kathy had just put down the phone after placing an order. Kathy replied quietly, yet firmly, "I’ll buy what I want, when I want it. After all, you may be my husband, but you can’t rule me. I work and enjoy buying an occasional thing or two from the shopping program."

"Thing or two!? There were six boxes jammed into our mailbox when we returned from the weekend visit to your parents. I guess I should have listened to your mother."

"Oh George, don’t be silly." Kathy smiled sweetly.

"Look Kathy, I don’t mind if you spend two hundred dollars on a good piece of jewelry. You know, like an heirloom! But you buy twenty pieces of junk. There’s no more room in this apartment. We’ll need a house and a catalogue system to rival Queen Elizabeth’s!"

"Oh George, is this any way to treat your new wife? You knew I enjoyed relaxing by buying from television."

"Kathy, you probably support the show. How many other viewers get forms to fill out on the various hosts and hostesses? I’m surprised you didn’t invite them to our wedding. Seriously though, Kathy, this obsession must stop and I’ve got a plan. It may seem a bit harsh to a grown woman, but I’ve got to do something."

"Now George, I never complain when you buy your opera and classical music CD’s or records and they are much more expensive than my items."

"Yes, but they’re neatly stacked in one corner of the foyer and they don’t govern our lives. Anyway, Kathy, I love you and want to help you overcome this addiction. I spoke to your parents and they agree with me. Now for my plan."

"You’re being unreasonable! You’re being a typical man!" Kathy shouted quite uncharacteristically, but shopping was her passion.

"That does it!" George grabbed Kathy and put her over his lap so quickly she had no time to fight back.

"George, what are you going to do?"

"Something that should have been done a while ago."

George lifted Kathy’s nightgown over her head and held her tightly by the waist.

"Kathy, you’ve been asking for this." He said as he smacked her white bottom.

"Ouch! George, are you crazy? I’m a grown woman!"

And another smack.

"Stop it!"

Smack followed smack and soon Kathy’s bottom was quite pink turning to red. Kathy kicked and squirmed with each slap, but George kept up his steady pace.

"Ge-e-e-o-o-o-r-r-g-g-e!" screamed a very sore-bottomed Kathy, "let me up this second.

"Oh, it’s seconds you want, Kathy, my dear wife. Fine, then you understand your need for a firm lesson."

"George! How can you?"

"I can easily give you seconds. As a matter of fact, where’s the hairbrush you bought recently as part of a set? You know the brown one—that you thought would match our bedroom set. Oh yes, I think it’s right here in the top drawer of my end table, since you had no more room in any of your places."

With his right hand, George held Kathy firmly as he opened the up the drawer with his left. Kathy saw her chance to get away and struggled to get out from her embarrassing position. He rummaged through the drawer and felt the bristles of the brush just in time—because Kathy’s wiggling almost caused him to lose his grip.

"No, no, no Kathy! You can’t get away until you’ve had all that’s coming to you." And with that, George, still holding Kathy around the waist, with his right hand, held the hairbrush in front of his red-bottomed wife.

"Do you remember this? I haven’t seen it used. See—it still has the sticker on the handle telling what type of wood this is. Since you haven’t used it, I think I will.

"Don’t you dare, George! My parents never spanked me! And you're damn well not going to now!"

"There was no television shopping then, Kathy, so what reason could they possibly have had?"

"Oh, don’t be so sarcastic, George. You know what I mean."

"And that, Kathy, brings me to the plan I have to cure you of your shopping addiction." George was now using both of his hands to rub Kathy’s still-hot bottom cheeks.

"I plan to wean you away from television shopping, not force you to go cold turkey."

"George, please stop rubbing my bottom; it’s embarrassing. And let me up to discuss this."

"Oh no. It took me a long time to get you into this position and I want your tush ready. Besides, I’m enjoying the view."

Kathy lifted one leg slightly and banged it down on the bed in a fit of temper.

"Ge-e-o-o-r-r-g-g-e!"

George quickly brought the hairbrush down twice—once on each cheek-surprising Kathy and letting her feel a bit of pain on her already-sore buttocks and said, "If you yell, you’ll get more."

Kathy grimaced, but was silent.

"As I was saying before you interrupted me—I’ll wean you away from television shopping. You can buy one item a week. A week, Kathy, not a day." George let the hairbrush glide over Kathy’s rear end.

"But..."

"Let me finish. If you buy more than one item per week, I will give you ten spanks for every item above one. If you buy seven items in a week, you’ll get sixty spanks. And since there’s no mail delivery on Sunday, we’ll end the week on Saturday and you’ll be spanked on Saturday evenings or Sundays."

"Let me up this minute, George so we can talk."

George let the hairbrush glide against Kathy’s bottom again, before lifting it and smacking her four times on each cheek.

"Ouch! Ow! O-o-o-o-o-w! No-o-o-o-o!"

"Are you having difficulty hearing me? That’s my plan! There is no room for discussion or for any more junk in the house."

Kathy tried to twist around to face George, but he was holding her securely so she could only lift her head and turn her face to her husband. "George, we’re adults. We should talk like adults and not with me in this awkward position."

"The trouble is, Kathy, you don’t handle the shopping the way an adult would."

"And," Kathy continued, "your plan is ridiculous. What if I see something I like on Tuesday and order it and then see something I like better on Thursday? There are times when I might see two or three things I want and then I might not see anything for a month."

"You’re right, Kathy, this is ridiculous. In the year we’ve been married that has never happened. The closets are crammed full of clothes, the drawers are filled with shirts, lingerie and every conceivable accessory; there are towels, appliances and heaven knows what else. No, I’m firm in this decision. And to show you that I mean business, I’ll demonstrate with your television-bought brush.

Kathy’s shrieks filled the room as her bottom was sorely receiving its due. George would not let up until Kathy’s bottom was the color of her ruby ring (courtesy of television shopping).

Kathy seemed to have learned her lesson because no packages arrived in the next few weeks and the television was now tuned to the major networks. She had not given up her beloved shopping networks, but when she watched, it was usually without pen and pad. She kept her orders down to one per week as George had instructed. After all, she did not want another spanking. Her first and only one had caused her pain for a few days and George always wanted to see if her color had returned to normal. So her skirt was constantly being lifted and her panties were constantly being lowered—even after the color returned to normal.

One night George awoke because he thought he heard a noise—very unusual at 2:15 A.M. in his apartment. Kathy was not in bed. As he walked out of the bedroom, he saw light coming from the den and heard the drone of voices. As he peeked in, he saw Kathy eagerly writing numbers on a pad while she sat only a foot away from the television. The telephone was next to her hip and she held the receiver close to her ear. Gathered all around her like chicks around a mother hen were more than a dozen very small packages. Some were opened; some seemed partially opened and some were still in their wrappings.

"KATHY!" George yelled.

Kathy stared in George’s direction. She felt trapped—the television was tuned to a shopping channel, the telephone was in her hand and the packages were all around her. She didn’t know what to do first—shut off the television, hang up the phone, or shove the packages out of sight. She did all three in what seemed like the same moment.

"Yes-s-s, George," she said sweetly. "I was just going to bed. I couldn’t sleep so I decided to watch some television. I..." She continued in a nervous voice.

"I thought we made a deal about your shopping. And since you haven’t kept your part of the bargain, I have to keep mine. By the way, how many packages have you just shoved under the furniture?"

"Oh George, it’s late and I’m tired. We have to get up early for work tomorrow."

"In that case, Kathy, let’s count the packages and get the spanking over with."

"Don’t be ridiculous, George. I’m going to bed!"