Have you ever seen those local news segments about successful young entrepreneurs: 40 under 40 or the Most Successful Self-Made People? My gorgeous sun-kissed wife could easily be on any one of those lists. But let me tell you, before I straightened her out, she was as big of a procrastinator as she was a dreamer.

I work in a very intense corporate legal environment, so deadlines, bullet points and organization are all important to me. Every other woman I’d been with was either intimidated by me or just incapable of understanding the demands of my job.

As a lesbian, I am not what you’d call vanilla, but so many kinky girls assume the lipstick femme with the demanding job wants to be secretly dominated. So I often attracted girls who couldn’t handle my dominance, or I enticed other dommes who mistook me for a sub, and neither of those types made for a satisfying relationship.

I like to lead, whether it’s in the boardroom or bedroom, and Brianna was the one who let me lead — and let me inside.

When you look at us, we are the definition of opposites attracting. She’s got long blonde hair in loose, beachy waves. I have a perfectly coiffed brunette lob. She runs around in yoga pants, while I wear fitted skirts and pantsuits.

Brianna is an artist who runs a successful design firm. But initially she was working a low-paying secretarial job she hated, while trying to sell her illustrations on the side. I fell in love with her because of her pillow-lipped kisses — and her kind heart. She’s the sort of person who would adopt an entire animal shelter if she had the means. Currently, we have four rescue dogs and two cats, so she’s doing her part.

Back when we were dating, I held my breath and leveled with her about my lifestyle to gauge whether she was interested in exploring BDSM. But as it turned out, I really didn’t need to pussyfoot around it.

“Emma, I gathered the dominant part from the minute we hooked up, and I’m not surprised.”

“It’s that obvious?”

“Well, you don’t run around in leather and spiked heels, but part of the reason I am attracted to you is because you do take charge. You know, I make plans. But I can’t seem to get them off the ground.” Brianna squeezed my hand. “I like that you’re different.”

“I could keep you in line,” I said, stroking her hair. “I want to see you thrive.”

“I believe that,” Brianna said before she kissed me. “I don’t want to see other people anymore. I want this. I want you.”

I pulled her in and kissed her back. We eloped shortly afterward, and from that point onward we have been inseparable. I finally had someone who saw my corporate success as a boon and not a threat — and someone who eagerly welcomed my dominating influence. Although she initially had no clue what she was in for.

I’ve always preferred leveraging practical, nonsexual tasks at the beginning of a BDSM relationship. I find it’s the key to successful domestic discipline. When Brianna told me her cherished goal of wanting to open her own business, I was delighted to help out. The first step, though, was getting her to polish her resume and start compiling a business plan to show investors.

Much to my increasing chagrin, she kept putting off these vital tasks — for almost a month. I didn’t nag her repeatedly. I only reminded her once each week. And she’d laugh and nod. At the end of the third week, I came home on Friday, saw her watching a movie and decided enough was enough.

“Hi, hun,” Brianna said, smiling at me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I replied curtly.

Brianna looked taken aback and said, “I was waiting for you to come home.”

“And you think watching this stupid show is a good way to use your time when we aren’t together?”

“Uh, I was just relaxing.” Brianna blinked and looked at me, so clearly confused. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” I replied, as I stepped over and switched off the TV. “But you don’t seem to be able to step up.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she asked, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’ve been waiting almost a month to see you make some real long-term progress on your business plan — unless of course you enjoy being an underpaid secretary and whining about it.”

“I haven’t gotten to it yet,” Brianna said, her voice quavering.

“When you don’t take yourself and your goals seriously, it tells me you might not be taking me seriously — or us.”

“But” — Brianna stammered — “that’s not true.”

“I don’t want to hear it. No more excuses.” And with a firm hand, I pulled her up and turned her around. “Evidently, I’ve been too indulgent. Put your hands on the back of the couch and bend over.”

“What?” she asked in a shocked tone.

“Now!”

My bewildered wife did as I ordered.

And then I squeezed her hips with both hands and said, “This is for your own good.” I peeled down her yoga pants and panties in one swoop, exposing her fully.

Brianna gasped, but she didn’t resist or try to cover herself, finally catching on to my game.

I cupped her bare ass with both hands, giving the shapely curves a good squeeze, and then I began one of the most intense bare-bottom spankings I’ve ever delivered.

Brianna yelped helplessly and involuntarily wiggled her rump as I gave both of her butt cheeks a good old-fashioned walloping.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

I didn’t give her a moment to catch her breath.

Once I was finished, her usually pale ass was bright red.

Brianna panted and leaned into the back of the couch — and I could see from behind that her pussy was soaked.

I reached over and gently smoothed her hair out of her face. “You OK?” I said in a calm, level tone.

All she could do was nod, but Brianna’s wide, vulnerable eyes said everything. She reached over and tried to kiss me, but I pulled back.

“No. I didn’t spank you just to fuck you. I can screw you any time. I did this because I want results. I know you can do better, so go do it,” I said.

Brianna pulled up her pants, but still seemed to hesitate.

I remained firm, but reassured her: “The reward will be worth it. Go on.”

Brianna nodded and took a deep breath as she stepped into the study where her laptop was.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” I told her.

I stepped out for an hour to give her space to work — and grab her favorite take-out. To my great delight, by the time I returned she had already finished cleaning up her resume and asked me to check it for typos. I served her a plate of food first and then sat down, reading everything over as we relaxed.

“I think I don’t hate it anymore.” Brianna said of her resume.

“It’s done — and it’s perfect. And you did it in less than an hour. That’s all it took.”

“Yeah, well, that’s only the first step.”

“Yes, but come on now. Baby steps. You do enough, and things move.”

“You were right — I mean, you are right.” Brianna smiled at me and reached out. “Thank you. And thank you for tonight.” She paused before adding, “I guess I didn’t realize how badly I needed that.”

I smirked a bit. “The night isn’t over, you know.”

Brianna looked bewildered again.

“Relax.” I laughed. “You finish up. I’m gonna go upstairs and draw us a hot bath.”

“That sounds nice.”

Not much later, my beautiful blonde nymph joined me amid the bubbles, where I wasted no time rewarding and cherishing her. I soothed her sore bottom with a gentle soapy massage — and used my tongue to address her frustrated little pussy. Brianna stood over my face so I could lap at every inch of her — at least until she could stand no more.

“Oh please,” Brianna begged in a mere whisper. “I need to come so badly.”

“Don’t worry,” I smirked. “I’ll make sure you do.”

We rinsed off and headed into bed where I put on our favorite strap-on and gave her the release she was denied earlier.

I fucked her missionary-style — while kissing her and pinching her nipples. Post-spanking, Brianna was definitely more open and uninhibited than she’d ever been — resulting in a pretty intense orgasm the first time around.

We cuddled and took a mini-break, but then she kissed my neck and said, “I want more.”

And I made sure she got exactly that. After all, any kind of discipline is worthless if there is no positive reinforcement, so my good girl had seconds, thirds — and fourths before we both collapsed in sweet post-orgasmic sleep.

However, we were by no means out of the woods: when it came time for her to do the business plan and contact investors, I had to take her in hand several more times. But Brianna welcomed my reprimands because she understood they came from a place of love.

“I don’t feel afraid of failure anymore. I know you’re doing this because you haven’t given up on me,” she said once, after I took both my hand and a riding crop to her ass.

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.” I beamed. “I have great expectations of you for a reason.”

No one in the world will ever make me prouder than my wife — and there’s no one I’d rather see be disciplined under my stern hand.