by Emily Tilton
But it seemed like Cathy couldn’t finish her sentence. The sun was dropping fast, but in the twilight Mindy could clearly see the color come into the woman’s cheeks.
“Not going to be punished for telling the truth?” Doug asked matter-of-factly. Then, as if he had picked up on the same conflict in Cathy that Mindy thought she had noticed, he went on in the same even tone, “Not going to have to go naked over my knee, or over the pillows on our bed, for a paddling?”
Cathy took a sharp breath, which seemed to go on for quite a while, as if she hadn’t thought to stop it and exhale. John gave a little chuckle and shook his head; Mindy knew then that unlike Bill Stanton, June’s husband, who had manifested just as much ‘concern’ for Mindy as his wife had, John’s opinion on this matter differed from Cathy’s.
“Doug!” Mindy said, a little reproachfully, though she thought he had judged his words, and timed them, very well. The heat had come to her own cheeks, of course, at the picture her husband had conjured up—of her own naked body in that delicious submissive position, ready for the guidance of his firm hand—but she had become so used to the idea, as a spanked wife, that the reproach came not from any offense but from a sense of decorum. She even found herself worrying about Cathy’s embarrassment, now.
That she had said Doug instead of sir, and that she had used such a mild tone, seemed to have an even greater effect on Cathy than Mindy’s putting out her hand to her husband. The uncertainty that had merely come and gone in a second in the woman’s eyes now settled, and she even glanced at John as if to ensure that her husband supported her inquiries. She found little comfort there, because John merely raised an eyebrow, seeming to say, You got yourself into this.
Cathy turned back to Mindy. “Paddling?” she said weakly.
The tears receded, and the nervous giggle threatened again. But Doug still held her hand, and gave it another squeeze to encourage her. Suddenly the experience that had seemed like it would be a horrible reawakening of the agonizing struggles of Minnesota became something very different: a way to put those struggles behind her, even.
She smiled a little smile she thought probably would appear secretive—Mindy certainly meant it that way. “I have to keep my paddle in the top drawer of my dresser, for when I misbehave seriously.”
Doug said, “Cathy, Mindy can show you her paddle later, if you like. You’ll see it’s not a torture device. It’s to help her learn her lesson, when she needs it. Sure, it hurts, but that’s what spanking is for. If you hear her getting a paddling sometime, remember that when I tell her to take off her clothes and put the pillows on the bed, for her lesson, she does it without questioning my judgment.”
Cathy’s face almost visibly filled up with desperate questions. For a moment she seemed not to know what to ask first, but then Mindy thought she saw an angrier part of her new neighbor’s character take over, shut her curiosity down, and decide the matter.
“And what do you think about that, Mindy?” Cathy asked, narrowing her eyes. “Your husband has a lot to say on the matter, it seems, but I don’t hear you saying you like to be spanked, or told to take your clothes off for punishment.”
Mindy glanced at Doug in a little bit of exasperation. Hadn’t Cathy heard Mindy ask for help? Hadn’t Mindy herself had to tell Cathy about the paddle being right there in her underwear drawer, so that Mindy had to see it every morning and remember that if she wasn’t a good girl that day, she would feel it on her bottom?
And how could she ask if Mindy liked getting paddled?
Doug nodded, his lips pursed tightly together. Yes, she had to. And yes, he certainly would spank her if she didn’t respect his wishes—not the paddle, of course, for this sort of thing, but Mindy would definitely have to go over his knee naked for the second time today, if she tried to get out of doing her best to explain. Her bottom wasn’t sore now—well, except for the little hole between her cheeks, but she had gotten used to that. Doug had anal sex with her all the time, and when he did it after a spanking, he always left Mindy’s anus itchy and burning, to remind her of the lesson.
She remembered suddenly the very first time her husband had told her they would have bottom sex, as Mindy always thought of it, in an attempt to make it just a little less dirty in her own mind. It had been their fourth date—the one on which Doug had actually proposed, over a very fancy dinner in Chicago, and put the ring on her finger.
Toward the very end of dinner, as they were finishing up the bottle of champagne the waiter had popped on cue as soon as she had gotten him up off his knees and hugged him, Doug had said, quietly but very seriously, “Now that you belong to me, and I’ve taken responsibility for you and started to discipline you like I did about forgetting your license, I’m going to claim you completely tonight.”
Mindy hadn’t known what he meant, exactly, but she had started breathing more quickly since she could tell from his low voice and his intense manner that he was talking about bed, somehow. “What do you mean?” she whispered back urgently.
“I told you that your whole body is mine,” he said, and Mindy nodded though she felt her brow furrow in anxiety at the possible implications. “That includes your mouth and your anus, Mindy. I’m going to fuck you in both those places tonight. It’s going to be a while until it’s time for us to have kids. I’ll use your mouth and bottom when I want to come inside you.”
And so he had. These days, when they had decided it was time to start trying for a family, Doug still came in her bottom or mouth as frequently as he did in her pussy. Even before the June Stanton situation arose, in the early days of their quick courtship and their marriage, Mindy had wondered from time to time whether something in her nature didn’t differ essentially from other women—or at least from the way other women were portrayed in modern movies and books, and the way women like June Stanton and Cathy Lind presented themselves.
Did she like being paddled? Did she like having to kneel to suck her husband’s cock every day when he came home from work, and having to swallow his seed unless he told her to get up and bend over so he could fuck her pussy? Did she like it when he made her watch porn and play with herself as he looked on to see how the stories of men loaning their wives as a courtesy to well-hung strangers affected her?
June Stanton had never asked her if she liked it. She had only asked if Mindy consented, and then she had sneeringly asked it was a sex thing.
She couldn’t actually remember, in fact, if she had ever had to admit that yes, she liked it. Doug had certainly never made her do so—he seemed to know simply by instinct that she would submit, and that submitting to his discipline and his pleasure gave her the most joy she had ever known in her life. Maybe it was just the way he had told her what to do that night she had been so stupid and not had her license, and she had done it, and the more shameful his requests—he never demanded anything, after all, but always simply told her to do as she was bid—the more deeply she felt his love for her.
And if Mindy hadn’t admitted it to Doug, to whom else would she ever have confessed how wet she got when her husband treated her like a naughty little girl, like a servant, like his very own extra special fuck toy? No one. Now it appeared she would have to confess it to this woman whom she had only met a few days before, and who accused her of being some kind of battered wife.
She turned back to Doug, knowing that the pleading look in her eyes, no matter how plaintive, would gain her nothing. He could be hard on her, and Mindy wouldn’t have it any other way, but she also felt compelled at least to show Cathy how difficult the thing was for which she asked. “Sir?”
“Go ahead, babe,” Doug said gently.
Mindy looked again at Cathy, and suddenly she found the will to speak the terrible truth. She saw in the blond woman’s face a hunger that she supposed Cathy didn’t even know lurked there. Mindy knew that she had to help, to the best of her ability, even if it meant this humiliating confession.
“I don’t like being spanked,” she said quietly. The
n she spoke louder and with confidence. “But I know I need it. Doug is my husband, and he knows what’s best for me. Sometimes that means he has to punish me.”
Chapter Six
John’s mouth had gone dry and his cock had gone very hard. He glanced over at Doug, who had a satisfied smile on his face, and in that moment he knew he had to try to get Cathy to see things the way Mindy did.
Doug’s eyes left Mindy’s face, went to Cathy’s, then to John’s. To John’s astonishment, he winked.
Then he said, “Babe, I’m not sure you’ve convinced Cathy yet. I think you should tell these folks about what it is that you need. They’ll probably be a little surprised by how things are in our house, but like I said, I think it’s really important to clear the air. Why don’t you tell them what happened this morning?”
John could only see Mindy’s blush in the twilight because her redheaded complexion showed it so very clearly, and the pleading look on her face was obvious. She looked at Doug, and he looked back patiently but with a decided air that said almost as much about his leadership role in their marriage as all the words spoken so far tonight. John didn’t feel sure that Cathy had picked up on this side of the Landises’ interaction, but he didn’t have the shadow of a doubt now that Mindy meant just what she had said about needing her husband’s guidance. Of course, John had already felt sure of that—the difficulty would be getting Cathy to admit that she had observed it for herself.
Doug didn’t say anything in response to his wife’s unspoken last request to be spared the indignity of telling her neighbors why she had gotten a spanking. Though his set jaw clearly didn’t have in it the reprieve Mindy sought, she let out a little sigh through her nose and turned back to Cathy and John. Glancing over at his wife, John wondered if he could see a slightly darker color creeping onto Cathy’s cheeks, too.
“I sassed my husband,” Mindy finally said, “and I got spanked for it.”
Cathy’s urgent question came in a thick voice. “How? What… what did you say?” Her eyes darted from Mindy to Doug and back again. She seemed to John to expect that Doug would take over, cut his wife off, demonstrate the coercion involved, but he could tell Doug had far too much intelligence and sensitivity to do that.
Now Mindy spoke in a quiet, penitent voice. “I told him I didn’t know where his socks were. I used a swear word and a disrespectful tone. And I did know where his socks were.”
John looked at Cathy, wondering if she had recalled, as he had, all the times she had sworn at him, had spoken disrespectfully. On every such occasion, he had used his counting to calm down, and let it go, because he loved his wife and you couldn’t have everything—just like you couldn’t have everything in the bedroom. Cathy’s eyes met his and to his surprise he thought he could see a flicker of anxiety there.
Are you getting fearful for your own backside, Cath? You should be.
As soon as he caught himself thinking it, John recoiled inwardly—but then, as when a Marine will take cover from incoming fire before identifying the threat and moving to neutralize it, he pushed forward into the idea again.
You should be. We’re going to try this. We have a marriage to lose, I suppose, but at least it might settle some things between us. Tomorrow morning, you’re going over my knee to learn your own lesson. Maybe I’ll even put you in that chastity belt my Corps buddies liked to joke about.
What Mindy said then, though, made things a little more complicated. As she went on speaking, gaining confidence perhaps from the Linds’ rapt attention and perhaps from her husband’s resolute if silent support, the thought of Cathy’s first spanking receded in his mind, though of course he didn’t forget the idea—the notion on which he had instantly begun to look as the first ray of hope he had seen for him and Cathy in quite a while. Had he started to think that way even this morning, as they listened to Mindy’s punishment and the sex that followed? Why else would he have said that thing about Cathy never making noise when they had sex?
Indeed Mindy’s little narrative added complexity specifically in that area. “I thought I’d gotten away with it,” she said, looking at Doug now with a wry little smile, “but after he gave me my coffee, he said, ‘When you’re done with that, take everything off. You’ve got a spanking coming.’”
Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Cathy swallow hard. “Everything?” she whispered. “Naked?”
Mindy frowned. “Doug told you that, Cathy, just a few moments ago. I always have to be naked when I’m punished.”
“Always?” Cathy’s brow had developed a deep crease, and she was biting her lip. For a moment John wondered if she might be about to cry, and the urge came to him to put his arms around her and take her away from this conversation that clearly disturbed her greatly. At the same time, though, just as his instincts told him they needed to try some version of this regime of family discipline that Doug and Mindy apparently found so successful, they told him that Cathy needed to stay and hear Mindy talk about it.
Now Mindy seemed to sense Cathy’s distress. She spoke more gently. “Always.” A cloud crossed her brow then, though, and she turned to Doug. John noticed that Mindy’s hand still lay in her husband’s lap, watched as Doug gave it a squeeze. He reached out to his own wife, extending his hand palm upward. Cathy seemed to catch sight of it in her peripheral vision; she glanced down to look, and started backward in her chair, as if frightened of John’s hand.
I guess you should be, sweetheart, he thought sympathetically, but he held his hand in the same place until, a moment later, Cathy seemed to relax. She looked up from his hand to his face with an unreadable expression, but she put her little fingers in his grasp, and he gave a gentle squeeze. Cathy’s eyes widened, as if she had felt the size and power of John’s hand for the first time. Again she bit her lip and the furrow returned to her brow. She turned back to Mindy, and so did John.
The Landises both wore bemused expressions, and John felt sure that the little interaction with his and Cathy’s hands, even obscured by the table and the dim light, had not gone unnoticed.
In the interim, some silent communication must have happened between Doug and Mindy, because she went right on as soon as she saw that the Linds’ attention had returned to her.
“I’m pretty sure Doug makes me take off my clothes so that he can have sex with me afterward.”
Cathy squeezed John’s hand very hard. John’s cock had lost some of the rigidity that it had experienced when Mindy’s spanking had first come up, but now his erection returned full force. Would Cathy take this to heart, he wondered?
Cathy looked at Doug, then at John. “I don’t know if…” She started to get up from the table.
John could tell that she meant to try to get away, escape the conversation at any cost. He had no intention of letting that happen. Doug had started in on his steak, and now John did too, looking at Cathy as he did so with an expression he hoped would convey his desire that they remain where they were and hear what their new neighbors had to tell them. A little to his surprise, she sat back down and picked up her fork, as if to cover her confusion. Her cheeks were definitely blazing now.
John said, as conversationally as he could, “Doug, do you have sex after every punishment?”
“John!” Cathy said, and the sound of her voice made John realize that just as he had said the thing about her making noise during sex in order to try to find a way to make things better between them, he had uttered this new bit of bawdiness for the same reason. Again the thought came that as strange as it might seem, Doug and Mindy had shone a ray of hope upon him and Cathy. And now, he thought, with them as witnesses, maybe the time has come to say it plainly. Maybe we have to take marriage counseling where we find it.
“Cathy,” he said as calmly as he knew how, “you know as well as I do that we have to find a way to come to a better understanding.”
“I don’t know what you’re…” Her voice didn’t have any fire or conviction in it as it trailed off.
“We�
�re going to sit and listen to what Doug and Mindy are nice enough to tell us about their marriage.”
The fire came back now, as Cathy seemed to understand the full implication of her husband’s words. She pulled her hand free of his and looked at him, her eyes narrow and her nostrils flaring. “No. Forget it. You can forget it.”
John narrowed his eyes and started to count to ten. Whatever happened, he didn’t want to do anything in anger, especially discipline his wife.
Doug’s voice came from the other side of the table, then. “Cathy, were you spanked at home?”
She turned her glare upon him, and John felt both relieved and impressed to see the calm smile Doug gave her in return.
“No?” Doug raised a sandy eyebrow.
“No!” Cathy spat out. “Okay? No!”
John felt his brow furrow, and his anger left him. Something about Cathy’s reaction seemed less furious than embarrassed. He reached across again and took her hand, not letting her pull it away again, though she tried.
“Hey, Cath,” he said. “I’ll never hurt you.”
He expected her to say that he must be crazy to say that after making it clear that he had decided to spank her. She didn’t; she merely compressed her lips into a tight line and looked back at Doug.
“I think you should hear what Mindy has to say,” he said, “before you decide to resist John’s wishes.”
Cathy didn’t reply to that, either, but instead looked at Mindy.
Mindy ran her hands through her hair, as if trying to find the courage to continue on with an account she must find difficult to render of a side of her marriage that John knew many would call shameful. Doug came to her aid, as he seemed to be very good at doing.