The “Why” and “How” Jack came to spank Lisa when Tom was gone.

 The “Why” and “How” Jack came to spank Lisa when Tom was gone.

A fictional story by Armand and Lisa

(This story was born with a comment on the “Laundry is an important chore” story. Then I reached out to him and he had some great suggestions. We developed this story together. Thank you, Sir for your help)

Tom had been gone for four days on a business trip—nothing unusual, really. We’re used to the rhythm of his travels. Usually, I try to keep the house running smoothly while he’s gone, especially when it comes to getting the laundry done before he comes home. With our early mornings, especially with the barn and animals, kids’ activities, and the weekly routines, clean clothes aren’t optional.

But that particular week… I let things slide.

It started with me saying, “I’ll do laundry after dinner,” and then, “I’ll catch up tomorrow morning,” and somehow tomorrow kept becoming the next day. By the time Friday rolled around, I had a mountain of laundry waiting, and my energy was already thin from long work days.

I told myself I would get up early Saturday morning—the day Tom came home—and tackle everything before he even walked through the door.

I didn’t.

Instead, I distracted myself with little things. Rearranging a drawer. Wiping down the kitchen counters. Texting with Emma next door. Things that felt productive but conveniently avoided the actual responsibility I was supposed to handle.

By the time Tom walked in that afternoon, suitcase rolling behind him, I felt that familiar flutter of guilt. And sure enough, he noticed almost immediately.

His eyes drifted toward the laundry room, where baskets of unfolded clothes sat like evidence waiting to be presented.

“Lisa,” he said slowly, “please tell me those are clean.”

“…Some of them,” I said in a very small voice.

He exhaled—the long, tired, travel-worn kind of exhale that said everything without a single sharp word. He put his suitcase aside and came close, lowering his voice the way he always did when he was trying not to sound frustrated.

“We talked about this before I left.”

“I know.”

“You need clean clothes for Monday. The kids need clean clothes. I needed clean clothes for today.” His tone wasn’t angry—just disappointed, and somehow that was worse. “I don’t understand why this keeps happening.”

I stared at the floor. “I’m sorry. I should’ve done it earlier.”

There was a heavy pause.

Then he said something I wasn’t expecting.

“Do I need to have Jack come over and check on you when I’m gone? Is that what it takes? Because maybe he’d be willing to give you some motivation if I can’t be here.”

I blinked at him. “Jack? Really?”

Tom shrugged, but it wasn’t casual. “He’s a responsible man. He’d understand the situation. You respond better when someone holds you accountable. And if I’m not here…” He let the thought hang. “Maybe he could step in.”

That statement rattled me. Jack wasn’t just our neighbor—he and Tom shared that old-fashioned, steady, protective mindset. It wasn’t unthinkable, but still surprising.

“Step in?” I asked. 

He looked dead in my eyes and said, “Lisa, what is the one thing that motivates you the most and the thing you try to avoid?”

I couldn’t look at him and I said under my breath in barely a whisper, “A spanking.” Then I look at him and say, “But I don’t want a spanking from him.” He snapped back a little irritated while looking at the laundry, “Then do what you are supposed to do and Jack won't have to visit!”

I didn’t say anything else about it then. Tom helped me get the laundry moving, and we salvaged what we could of the evening, but the idea of Jack stepping in stuck in my head.

A couple days later

I was chatting with Emma in her kitchen while she chopped vegetables, and the conversation drifted to schedules, housework, and husbands being away.

“Tom came home pretty frustrated about the laundry,” I admitted.

Emma gave me a sympathetic look. “He had a rough trip. He looked exhausted.”

“Yes, I really messed up and procrastinated until he had to help after a long week of travel” I replied. 

“Ohhhh Lisa, that’s not good. What were you thinking? If I had done that with Jack, he would make sure I would not want to sit for a while. If you know what I mean?” Emma said with her eyebrows up like shocked. 

I said, “Well let me tell you that night I did sleep on my belly. He blistered my bottom after all the laundry was done.” I hesitated for a moment, then said, “Funny you should say that. He… joked—well, half-joked—that maybe Jack should come over and check on me when he’s away. Maybe even, um… motivate me if I’m slacking.”

Emma’s eyes widened slightly. Not shocked—just intrigued. “Oh? Did he now?”

“I mean, I don’t think he was serious…” I paused. “Right?”

She laughed under her breath. “Lisa, I’ve been married to Jack a long time. I’m not saying he would. But I’m not saying he wouldn’t.”

That didn’t exactly comfort me. “How would you feel about it? I mean if Jack spanked me?” 

Emma’s eyes got big and said, “Well he is good at motivating me. Maybe you need motivation when Tom isn’t here to keep you going.”

“EMMA!” I said. And she replied, “Well tell me you wouldn’t have gotten the laundry done if Jack was on you?”

I gulped and said, “Yes I would have gotten it done. But…. Jack spanking me?”

She said, “I know it’s embarrassing but it’s not like he doesn’t know you’re spanked.”

We changed the subject, but apparently the idea stuck in her head too, because that evening, she told Jack what I’d said.

And that’s what opened the door.

Later that night

Tom texted me from the bedroom:

Tom: "Had a talk with Jack."

My stomach dropped.

I typed back: "About what?"

Tom: "About what you told Emma. He said he’s willing to look after things if you need correcting while I’m gone. I trust him. And he said he’ll keep me updated."

I sat there speechless.

Jack.

Jack, who mowed the yard in perfect diagonal lines.

Jack, who never raised his voice at anyone.

Jack, who had a presence that made you straighten your spine without him saying a word.

And now… he and Tom had an agreement.

My cheeks burned just thinking about it. Not fear—just the deep, humbling understanding that accountability was no longer optional. Tom had backup. Serious backup.

It was a strange mixture of embarrassment and reassurance, knowing he wanted the household cared for, even in his absence. And knowing he trusted Jack—enough to say something like that.

I didn’t know it yet, but that little agreement would come back around sooner than I imagined.

It would show up the next time Tom checked our Samsung washer app from a thousand miles away…

and saw absolutely no activity.