The Man of Her House

by Constance Masters

  * * *

  Alyssa didn’t know who she was more mad at, Jesse or herself. Him for being the arrogant pig that he was, or her for saying how high when he asked her to jump. This was humiliating. She thought it was embarrassing to be upended and spanked bare, but this was worse. Him sitting there waiting for her to do chores in front of him. He had a prime position. She was sure he was going to catch sight of just how all this had affected her. That was something she truly didn’t understand at all. What was it about all this that turned her insides to mush? She pushed the thoughts away so she could get the work over with.

  She tried not to look over her shoulder while she filled the sink with hot water. Alyssa would have liked to have pretended she was on her own and wearing pants, but she couldn’t because she could hear Jesse breathing. Plates that had dried food on them soaked in the water while she collected glasses from the living room. The embarrassed girl knew she would have to bend over eventually to actually put things inside the dishwasher, but she was acutely aware that Jesse was watching her. When she bent over he was going to be privy to her secret shame: how wet she was. There, she’d allowed the admission to creep through to her conscious thoughts. When this arrogant man had spanked her, it had turned her on. A lot. What was even worse was that although being made to clean with her bottom on display made her angry, it also increased her arousal. She could feel the wetness escaping her pussy lips at the thought, and she would be just mortified if Jesse actually said something. It was bad enough that she couldn’t prevent him from seeing the evidence for himself.

  She was lucky—if that’s what you could call it—because if he did see, he didn’t say anything.

  “Good girl,” Jesse said when she was finished with the kitchen. “You know it wouldn’t be so hard to clean up if you rinsed your plates and glasses as soon as you’re finished with them and put them in the dishwasher straight away.”

  “Thanks for the advice. Can I go now?” She really did just want to get out of there.

  “Yes, you can. Alyssa?”

  “Yes?”

  “Tomorrow’s a new day. Let’s start fresh.”

  “Tomorrow you’ll see how hard I’m willing to try.” To try and drive you out of here, she thought. She was managing to hide it, but she was still plenty angry inside. You may have won this part of the argument, but I’ll come out on top tomorrow.

  “Good girl.”

  “Sleep well.”

  You’ll need to be refreshed when you see your surprise tomorrow, she thought. He would see that spanking her had done nothing but waste both their time. If brats get spanked, then spankers get pranked. Alyssa racked her brain for a prank worthy of the humiliation she’d been forced to endure. She looked out onto the partly refurbished garden and at the new pond and fountain. The water sparkled prettily under the solar lights. Perfect, she thought.

  Alyssa didn’t have to wait until late into the night to work on her plan. Jesse worked hard and started early, so he didn’t stay up late. That night was no different. When she finally heard the gentle rumble of sleep from the other side of his door, she crept downstairs to where Jesse had been working to renovate the bathroom. There were the treasures she was after. It wasn’t hard to find which were Jesse’s. They were engraved.

  With her captured bounty, Alyssa took off as quickly and quietly as she could, making sure she didn’t make a noise with the door. She managed to struggle through without stirring Jesse, but her load wasn’t light and the metal from the screen door banged a couple of times against the edge of the house. She held her breath while she listened hard for footsteps on the stairs. Once she was sure she was free and clear, she bolted, doing laps around the garden until the last of her treasures had been plopped into the pond.

  As the last one sank to its watery death, she expected to feel exhilaration, but she didn’t. Instead, cold fear washed through her. The finality of what she’d done hit her all at once, and she shuddered. Unfortunately, her pang of regret was all too late. It didn’t take an expert to know that you can’t just dry off power tools with a hair drier. Guilt, anxiety, and the feeling that she’d just thrown the most childish tantrum ever weighed her down as she walked back into the house. He was going to kill her, and if she was to be honest with herself, she might even deserve it.

  Chapter Three

  Jesse woke early and put on a pot of coffee. It was so much more relaxing to get up to a clean kitchen. After pouring himself a cup he took it outside to take advantage of the early morning. He sucked in a big breath of fresh air. New day, new start. He looked up towards Alyssa’s window and sort of hoped to see her there, looking out as she often seemed to be when he was outside. When there was no activity, he turned his attentions to the fountain and pond. They were going to put in the water lilies today. Cup in hand and filled with pride, he walked towards his newest creation, but as he got closer, he could see that something looked a bit strange. Then he realized what he was looking at.

  “No!” he muttered. His jaw dropped. “Oh, crap! Tell me she didn’t!”

  Jesse was consumed with useless panic. Even though it was probably too late to save the tools he worked so hard for, he ran in a desperate effort to try and do just that. Fluid cascaded like a waterfall from each ruined item as they were lifted carefully from the water and placed on the grass.

  He looked up at the empty window with murderous thoughts. She was going to be one very sorry young lady when he was finished with her. Being a pain in the ass was one thing, but this was unnecessary destruction. This was criminal.

  * * *

  Alyssa hadn’t slept a wink. She stood to the side of the window chewing nervously on her bottom lip, making sure she was out of sight as the drama unfolded. Maybe she should hide. As if that would help. She actually pondered marching right out there and confessing and apologizing. Right, like that’d work. What would he say—I would have killed you, Lyssy, stone dead, but because you apologized, I’m just going to overlook the fact you’ve destroyed my expensive tools, tools that I use to make my living. What do you think we should have for dinner?—Yeah, right. Oh shit, he was walking towards the house.

  Man, it felt like she hadn’t taken a breath in an entire hour while she waited for Jesse to burst through the door and take her to task. She waited, but nothing happened. He didn’t come. She opened her door a crack, and she could hear Jesse on the phone, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Then he was gone. She raced to the window.

  Alyssa saw Jesse take his tools but didn’t see what else he took. Was he actually going to leave? The pain that pelted her was like an actual physical pain, and it shocked her. This was what she’d been working for, wasn’t it? To make him leave. Maybe she should go and check his room. She almost did, but stubbornness took over, stopping her from admitting to herself that she actually cared what he thought. She wanted to know where he was and what he thought about what she’d done.

  She sank down onto the bed and curled into a miserable ball, burying herself with her mother’s quilt. It was just meant to be a prank to get back at him for spanking her, and now it had all gone wrong. That wasn’t the truth. She’d wanted to chase him away, and not just because of the spanking. But now she was sorry, and she didn’t want him to go. The miserable young woman sobbed into the pillow until she’d cried herself into a fitful, dream-filled sleep.

  Alyssa was curled up asleep when she felt the bed depress next to her. Strong arms wrapped around her. Warm breath on the back of her neck and then eager fingers roaming across her nipples, over her flat belly. Soft, wet lips and then a tongue danced across her back. She trembled in anticipation as his fingers slipped between her legs.

  “Lissy, honey, I’m sorry,” Jesse whispered in her ear. “I was too hard on you.”

  “But your tools. I went too far,” she whimpered as his fingers probed and explored.

  “You wouldn’t have if I hadn’t have pushed you. They’re only things. Nothing matters but you.”

  “Reall
y” she breathed.

  “Of course really. I love you, Alyssa.”

  Jesse sat on the bed and brushed a tangled red curl from her eyes. “Alyssa,” he said firmly.

  The startled girl opened her eyes and pulled the bedclothes up to cover herself, aware that this Jesse was real and here and probably as mad as hell. It would be too much to actually think that he would react as he had in her dream. “Hi,” she managed finally.

  “You had a busy night last night. I’m not surprised you are worn out.”

  “I… um…” What could she say? ‘Sorry’ was such a small and useless word sometimes. Not to mention overused.

  “Do not even attempt to come up with some kind of excuse.”

  “I wasn’t. I was just going to say that I thought you’d left.” She hated the scarily quiet tone of his voice.

  “I needed to simmer down some. If I’d have come anywhere near you this morning, I would have taken off your hide, and I’m not joking. But I have some control, unlike some people.”

  “I went too far, I get that.”

  “I’m not sure that you do, but you will. Go get your hairbrush.”

  “No, Jesse, please.” Alyssa shook her head. It hurt when he spanked her with his hand, and it would really hurt if he spanked her with her wooden hairbrush.

  Jesse raised an eyebrow. “I won’t get into a debate with you. Go get it now, or you’ll be sorry.”

  “I am sorry. Really sorry but—” She didn’t get any further. The room spun, and she was suddenly staring at the floor, arms jerkily searching for an anchor. She squealed as the pajama pants she never got around to taking off went south, leaving her bottom bare and vulnerable.

  “If you think I’m playing,” Jesse punctuated every word with a hard smack, “or open to suggestions or explanations, then you are wrong. Really wrong.” He stood Alyssa on her feet between his legs.

  Her hands shot down to cover her neatly shaved mound. Embarrassment colored her cheeks, and it felt like they were more heated than the ones on her freshly smacked bottom. His stern look bore into her, and she finally waddled awkwardly towards the dresser, her pajamas caught around her ankles and her pink bottom on full display. She wanted to protest, to shout at Jesse that she didn’t deserve this, but she couldn’t. Tears streamed down her face but she did as she was told, picked up the brush, and waddled dutifully back to the bed where Jesse was watching her carefully.

  Alyssa stood with her bottom lip wobbling and her hands strategically placed as Jesse fingered the wooden hairbrush.

  “Those tools cost a lot of money. They’re my livelihood. Without them, I can’t work.”

  “I’m sorry!” She was crying already. Couldn’t he see how sorry she was? She watched him press his lips together, presumably looking for the right words to convince her of how wrong she was, as if that weren’t obvious.

  “One of them was bought for me on the first day I started to work with my grandfather in this business. His gift. It’s irreplaceable.”

  Her face filled with horror at those words. She mouthed the word sorry, but it felt so meaningless.

  “You can’t go through life only seeing things from your own point of view.”

  “It was just meant to be a prank.” She wasn’t trying to make light of what she’d done, but once again it had come out wrong, frivolous.

  “Are you serious? There was nothing about that even remotely funny. It was destructive, and more importantly, it was against the law!”

  “Are you going to call the police?” He wouldn’t have her arrested would he? Did he hate her that much?

  “No. I’m going to handle it myself.”

  Jesse flipped her back over his knee, tapping each calf with the brush. Her hands shifted position in mid-air to shoot back and protect her bottom. “Move them,” he growled.

  She did.

  Alyssa screeched when the hard surface of the brush made contact with her tightly clenched cheeks. “Jesse!” she wailed. “It hurts too much!”

  “So does having to pay to have all my tools fixed!”

  “Jesse, stop!” she begged. “Please!” It was awful. Each wallop of that stupid brush burned a hole in her delicate flesh. She was certain that she would never sit again. Begging was getting her nowhere, so she stopped, but tears coursed down her face in silent protest. Finally, Jesse dropped the brush, but she didn’t try to rise and just hung there, over his lap, gasping for breath. She felt the weight of his hand as it rested on the small of her back.

  “Come on now,” he said finally. He grasped her arm and helped her to stand. “That wasn’t many smacks, and it was only part of your punishment.”

  “It felt like a hundred,” Alyssa said with a sniffle.

  “It wasn’t even ten. I wouldn’t do that when you have more coming.”

  Alyssa’s head shot up. “No more! I can’t take any more. You’ll kill me.” She wrung her hands dramatically, not sure whether to rub her sore bottom or slap Jesse for being so mean. The second option wouldn’t be smart—she could see that even with her spank-rattled brain. She went instead with the rubbing, only to have her hands smartly removed from her rear and caught between his.

  “There will be more. We’re going to go downstairs, and you’re going to cut a switch.”

  “People still do that?”

  “When they throw other people’s expensive belongings in a pond, they do.”

  “You already spanked me for that.”

  “You’ll be cutting a switch.” Jesse stood and took her hand.

  “No.” She twisted it and pulled out of his grasp like a toddler who didn’t want to hold their mother’s hand while crossing the road.

  “You have to keep pushing,” Jesse said with a shake of his head. “Just remember, you had your choice.”

  Before she could say anything else he’d grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and tugged it over her head leaving her standing naked before him, the pajama pants having been kicked off with the first few thwacks of the brush. Alyssa had no idea where to put her hands to cover herself. Instead, she did a clumsy hand dance, moving them from her breasts to her sex and back again, finally leaving one hand down there while she covered her breasts with her other arm, for all the good it did her.

  “Put your hands down.”

  Alyssa wanted to argue, but she found herself removing her hands and sliding them to her sides.

  “Let’s go.” Jesse took her hand, and this time she didn’t resist.

  When they got outside, he marched her up to the peach tree at the back, stopping only to pick up a picnic blanket.

  “What’s that for?” A gut feeling told her they weren’t heading out for a midnight picnic.

  “You’ll see. Never done this before?” he asked, tucking the throw under his arm.

  She shook her head, her eyes filled with unshed tears. She was so mortified that she didn’t notice Jesse moving discretely behind her to keep her naked form shielded from any busybody neighbors.

  “Use this.” He passed her a utility knife. “You want to it to be about as thick as your little finger and about this long.” He spread his hands to demonstrate the desired length.

  Alyssa found herself examining her little finger like she’d never seen it before.

  “Now.”

  “Okay,” she said, taking the knife and choosing a branch. She looked over her shoulder at Jesse, and he nodded. She cut it free tentatively and passed it to him.

  “I’ll need the knife.”

  She watched nervously as he stripped the leaves and knots, finally smoothing his fingers down the bare wood to check that he hadn’t missed anything.

  Jesse took her arm and led her purposefully towards the back shed.

  “This is gonna really hurt, isn’t it?” she asked with a voice cloudy with emotion as she trotted beside Jesse, trying to match his stride.

  When they were safely inside, Jesse covered the sawhorse with the picnic blanket. “Bend over this.”

  Alyssa stood frozen
to the ground. It wasn’t that she was being defiant. She was scared.

  “Now, Alyssa.”

  His voice only lifted a little bit, but she hurried the rest of the way and bent herself over the old wooden bench.

  “Spread your legs.”

  The request was made with the added incentive of a few taps with the dreaded switch, so she moved, squeezing her eyes together tightly. Maybe if she couldn’t see and she imagined she wasn’t here, then this would all be a horrible dream, she thought. No such luck.

  Jesse laid a hand on her lower back to steady her, and then it started. Small rapid flicks of his wrist brought the stick down fast.

  Little lines of stinging itches fell all over her entire bottom and thighs. There was nothing else she could do but cry. Not her usual sniffling cry, but an open-mouthed wail. She was sure that he was taking off her skin.

  “Alyssa,” Jesse said sternly. “You have to be quiet.”

  “I can’t help making noise. It hurts.”

  “I know. But just so you know, we’re not finished. We’re going to have to take this inside.” He helped her to stand and then led her back into the house.

  Alyssa actually felt a bit more relaxed once she was bent over the bed. At least it felt softer underneath her and no one could see. No one but Jesse anyway. Sadly, she was getting used to him getting a view of her bent over bottom, and she allow herself to think about what else he saw. It was, however, a feeling of misguided euphoria that was short lived.

  “Ready?” Jesse said a hand again placed firmly on her lower back.

  She simultaneously nodded and burst into tears, and then it started again. Although the little stings had dulled somewhat, the minute he started flicking the switch all over her, the pain reignited. It felt like a million fiery itches were swirling and twisting. She never knew where that lightening quick, whippy little branch was going to land next, and she didn’t know where it had just been. All she knew was no dancing of her toes on the floor or clenching of her assaulted cheeks relieved it. Jesse managed to whip her everywhere from the top of her bottom to the back of her knees. Not even the inside of her thighs was left unscathed. By the time she heard him bend the switch in half and crack it, she was a sloppy mess, sobbing so hard that no sound came out, just ragged, whiny whimpers. It felt like he’d been spanking her for hours. When she looked up at the clock though, she was surprised to find that it had only been minutes. The longest minutes of her life so far. Alyssa wanted to hate him, but she couldn’t. What she really wanted to hear was that she was forgiven.