To add to the tension, before the party Michael had to go to Paris and officially hand in his notice with his previous employer, as his leave of absence was nearly over. I could tell this was making him nervous; it was the point of no return. He was choosing his path. We talked it over and over. The what if’s. What if he wasn’t up to the job? What if the employees weren’t happy? What if he got homesick for Paris…blah blah. It was my turn to reassure him. I even threatened to spank some sense into him, but that made him laugh as he remembered my last pathetic attempt as Dominatrix. Finally a week before the party, he went and cut his ties.
I took advantage of Michael’s absence and had arranged to meet Claire and Tara for late night shopping and drinks in the city after work because I hadn’t been spending much time in Ruislip and hadn’t spent Friday night with the girls in ages. Added to that, the red dress I had seen in Banbury’s was gone and I had to find something special to wear to this party next week. I was really looking forward to the night and Michael’s last words were to tell me to ring him to pick me up as he’d be back by then.
After traipsing every shop we could fit into two hours, I ended up empty-handed. Crap, that meant the next day would have to be spent shopping too. I never got why shopping was referred to as retail therapy; it was more like ritual torture, changing in and out of clothes and getting more and more despairing of yourself as you failed to find anything that looked good on you. I hated it. At least we had the drinks to look forward to. As we hit the cocktail bar, I was fit to scream, cry, or both. What the hell was I going to do? I needed to find something; the problem was nothing lived up to my memory of that red cocktail dress. I was just going to have to drop my sights a bit.
The bar was crowded with Friday evening revellers, but we managed to get a corner table as some theatre-goers vacated it. Tara stunned me by saying she had been seeing the same guy for a month. I hadn’t realised how little I knew about the girls lately; I might just as well have let my room in Ruislip go, as I was never there anymore. I knew that was what Michael wanted; it’s just that I couldn’t quite bring myself to that point. I’d done it once before, which had ended so badly. And it was still early days.
Claire said she was getting fed up with Pete. Life revolved around the local pub, Chinese takeaways and football. Either she slotted into his life or she didn’t, he didn’t seem that bothered one way or the other. She was just cautious about making the break as they had been an item for so long.
I told the girls I was half considering moving in with Michael and we discussed the pros and the cons, and even though they knew it would mean they had to find a new housemate, they were all in favour of me giving it a shot. They both thought Michael was the best thing had ever happened to me, in spite of the shaky start.
“He’s really helped you blossom,” Claire said seriously. “You’re way more confident and self-assured. You’re happier.”
Tara went to the ladies’ and as soon as she was gone, Claire was jumping straight in with the questions.
“So does Michael still spank you then?” she asked a little too loudly, thanks to the two cocktails we had just downed.
“Ssh, for God’s sake, Claire. Will you keep it down? Yes, he does,” I hissed at her, blushing to the roots of my hair. “Anyway, I thought you didn’t approve.”
“Mmm, I thought I didn’t either, but you two are like a pair of lovesick sparrows. I can’t help wondering if there’s something in it. Does it still turn you on?”
“Fuck, yeah, it’s really, really sexy.”
“Does it not scare you a bit?”
“Never, he’s never pushed it too far and it always drives me crazy. It’s not like he controls me or anything. I’ve seen other people way more controlled by men who would never spank them. Women who are terrorised by men, verbally or physically. It’s not like that at all. At the end of the day, I call stop and he has to stop straightaway. Michael’s no bully. Claire.”
“I think I know that now, but at the start I was worried for you. He really seems to love you.”
“Yeah, I think so, and I love him too.”
“Ach, sure any fool can see that,” she giggled. “It makes me wonder what I’m missing out on with Pete. With you two there is so much excitement and magic. It’s hard not to envy it.”
Tara came back and wanted to know what we were talking about.
“Oh, just my brand spanking new office,” I said, taking into a fit of the giggles. Claire choked on a mouthful of her cocktail.
“What, what did I say?” poor Tara asked, perplexed, as we tried to contain our silliness.
“Damn, look at the time,” Claire said, recovering. “If we don’t move our arses, we’ll miss the last tube and we’ll have to get a cab home. That’ll cost us a fortune.” We left the pub in a hurry so the girls could make it to the station. Without thinking, I hopped into the first cab at the taxi rank opposite the station.
Michael was asleep on the chair as I came in. He looked tired, unshaven, and tousled as he napped. It tugged at my heartstrings. I kissed him lightly to tell him to go to bed.
“How was your day?” I asked. “Did everything go ok?”
“Mmm, not too bad. Philippe wasn’t that surprised that I wasn’t coming back. It was good to see him. And it was great to see Mum and Gaston; they’re coming over to the party and looking forward to meeting you. What time is it?”
“About twelve.”
“How’d you get home?” he asked suspiciously
“Taxi.”
“Were the girls in the cab with you or were you on your own?”
His face was darkening. I seriously considered lying for a moment when I saw the look in his eyes, but I thought that it was bloody ridiculous that a woman of my age should have to lie about something like that.
“No, I was on my own; they got the last tube.”
“So you went out on your own and hailed a random taxi on the streets of London at eleven-thirty at night.”
“No, Michael, I got in the first cab in the taxi rank, outside the tube station that I had walked to with the others. For Christ’s sake, I’m not a child. I can take care of myself. You don’t own me and you have no right to tell me what I can or can’t do. And London at eleven-thirty on a Friday night is just as busy and safe as it is at seven-thirty; you’re being an idiot.”
Bad move. He didn’t like being called an idiot any more than he liked the thought of me getting a taxi on my own late at night.
“Get into the bedroom and prepare yourself for a spanking,” he said coldly.
Shit! And to think I had only been saying not an hour before that he wasn’t controlling or that I wasn’t scared. Now I was scared. I’d never seen him that cold before. Angry, yes, but not cold. I think I timed my comments badly. He was already crotchety from being woken up. I scurried off to do what I was told, but every fibre of my being objected. I knew this was going to be destructive. I could feel the negative energy surrounding us.
I waited, bare-bottomed and obedient. But for the first time since I met Michael, I did actually feel bullied. That was so different to feeling submissive. I couldn’t submit because I really felt he was being an unreasonable boar. And I was scared because it felt wrong. Wrong for me, anyway. I couldn’t tell how it felt for him right now because he just wasn’t being my Michael, and I couldn’t see inside his head.
He walked right past me without speaking and went straight to the wardrobe. Not a word. I might as well not have existed. He came back and tied my hands and told me in that same cold voice it was for my own good, to protect them if I wanted to cover my behind. I really wasn’t comfortable with this at all. Until now I either wanted a spanking or at very least felt it was deserved. Then he rubbed something cold and hard over my behind in a very menacing way, before showing me it. A hand-painted, elaborately decorated, wooden spanking paddle. If the circumstances were different, I might have admired its beauty or workmanship, or I might have had a shiver of anticipation at the pros
pect of it being used on me. But not now. Now I wanted to run.
“Twenty; count and thank me after each one or I start over.”
That was it, the sum total of my encouragement, preparation, or understanding. No way of knowing what was really at the (pardon the pun) bottom of it. He was angry I had to bear the brunt of it, but I couldn’t understand or argue because he wouldn’t tell me. Was he mad because I said he was an idiot or because I took a cab?
He started spanking hard and mercilessly. I counted and cried. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. Where was the closeness, the intimacy? This definitely wasn’t what I’d signed up for. It wasn’t just that it hurt, but by god he made sure it hurt. It was the lack of feeling that got to me. He was being cruel. I was crying after the first stroke, because I didn’t recognise this man. He lectured me about disobedience and disrespect. The disrespect I could get; I had just accused him of being an idiot. But I was a grown woman, responsible for myself, where did he get off thinking I should have to offer him obedience? Bullshit. I offered him my body, soul, and fidelity. But not my autonomy. I wasn’t his chattel. I was his partner. And he had to understand that too. I safeworded for the first time ever at fifteen strokes. He stopped, but told me he would finish it later, I wasn’t getting off. Then he left the room.
I lay on the bed and cried my heart out. I couldn’t do this. I could be submissive to a point, but not unquestioningly. I didn’t try to follow or find him. He needed to cool down and I needed to think. It’s kind of hard to think too much when your backside is on fire. I wanted to curl up and sleep, but I was too sore and confused. I heard him coming back. I prepared myself for the rest. I hadn’t the energy to fight him. He found me lying in position across the bed, still sobbing. To my surprise, he sat on the bed beside me.
“I’m truly sorry, Shiv. I should never have spanked you like that. I’m no better than a bully. A wife-beater.”
“You have to be married to be a wife-beater, you’re safe enough.” I gave a little laugh through my sniffles. I think the laughter was relief. Not about getting off with the spanking, but about the fact that he could see it. He had me worried. I had been afraid that he was setting a new normal for us. A normal I wasn’t prepared to go with.
“I don’t want to spank you anymore, not if I can’t control my temper.”
Fuck, I didn’t expect that. “What do you mean, you don’t want to spank me anymore? Do you mean now or ever?”
“Ever. You’re right, I am an idiot. I should never have let this happen.”
“So that’s it, no more spanking, don’t I get a say in it? What if I don’t want to stop?”
“Look at you; you’re a mess, your behind is swollen and bruised, you were sobbing your heart out, and you had to safeword. All because I lost my temper. In truth I don’t deserve you now. You gave me your submission and I abused it. It’s unforgivable. It’s gone too far and I think we should stop.”
“Stop what?” Fear flooded my body. This was way worse than the spanking. “Do you mean stop us?”
“Maybe, if we can’t just have a normal relationship, then maybe yeah, stop us.” I was sitting on his knee by now and I felt my heart was breaking.
“Don’t you dare, Michael Henrii,” I shouted at him. “Don’t you dare stop us now. You stalked me, hounded me, dragged me back after lying to me and now, now when it’s too late, now when I love you, that’s when you want to stop it.” I was shouting and crying and flailing his chest with my fists. “So now that you got the prize, you don’t want it, is that it? Was the thrill in the chase? You just don’t like being said no to?”
I was raging and shaking in my anger. I climbed off his knee and made my way to the bathroom. I turned on the faucets and locked him out. This was too much. Who the hell did he think he was? What gave him the right to drop me like that? I climbed gingerly into the bath. The hot water stung the arse of me, but I didn’t care. The sensation was better than the numbness in my heart.
“Open the fucking door, Shiv,” he shouted from the other side. “I need to talk to you.”
It was really unlike Michael to swear at me like that. I ducked my head under the water so I could block out the sounds. I just needed to think, to cool down. I told him to go away from the door, I wasn’t letting him in and no way was I talking to him through a locked door. He could just wait ‘til I got out. I felt the water soothe me somewhat. So what was next? There was no point in storming off. We needed to talk it out. Either we could fix it or we couldn’t, but we might as well try was my conclusion. I reluctantly dragged myself out of the water and put some arnica on my behind, hoping it wouldn’t bruise too much. That would finish him completely if he had to see the effects of his handiwork for days.
I slipped into one of his tee-shirts and his bathrobe and went to the living room where he was waiting.
“So,” I started with a deep breath, “do you want me to leave now or can I stay and we’ll talk about it?”
“Christ, I don’t want you to leave, but I’m no good for you if that’s the way I’m going to be. If you were smart, you would leave.”
“Well, in that case, I’m not smart and I’m not leaving. Not only that, but I don’t want you to stop spanking me. Normally I love it; tonight didn’t quite work out like usual, but shit happens, Michael. We can’t get it right all the time. We learn from where we went wrong and put it behind us, if you’ll pardon the pun.” He grinned weakly at my choice of words.
“Where we went wrong? We didn’t go wrong. I did. I lost control.”
“No, that’s not true. If you’d lost control. you wouldn’t have stopped for the safeword. You still had control. You were too angry, I agree, but you were in control. We just need to agree what’s acceptable. We never really figured out where we were going with any of this, we’ve kind of just let it happen without really working out what exactly we wanted to get from it.”
We talked a while longer, but Michael remained quite distant, shut off from me. I couldn’t figure out what was going on in his head and he wasn’t ready to verbalise it. I suggested bed. We snuggled in like spoons, but for what was quite possibly the first night in our relationship, we didn’t make love. Although he pulled me in tight, he made no effort to arouse me and his penis was conspicuous by the absence of a hard-on. I was torn between relief and sadness.
The next morning was no better. I had set the alarm for the usual time as I was meeting Claire to go shopping. I groaned. I really could have done without that, especially with Michael brooding. I didn’t feel like leaving him. He was awake beside me, but still distant. I had a little bit of time and tried to rouse his interest. We had to pass this. He managed a semi-erection after a lot of coaxing. Just as I was winning the battle, my mobile rang. Fuck, talk about timing. Claire was ringing to tell me she’d be late, thank God. That meant I had a bit more time, but Michael had risen to make coffee and the moment was lost.
“Why’re you shopping again today; didn’t you go shopping last night? It’s not like you’re too fond of it,” he asked.
“I know, but I need to get a dress for this damn party, it’s next week and I can’t find anything.”
“Oh, Christ, is that why you were shopping?” A grin spread across his face. “Thank God you didn’t find anything. I want to show you something.”
He brought me into the guest bedroom and there it was, hanging in the wardrobe, covered by a sheet to keep it dust free. The red dress. The one he had seen me try on way back then. I was confused. Gloria told me they sold it that same week. And Michael and I hadn’t even had our first date.
“Shit, where did you get this, you’re a star, thank you,” I said, awestruck. “I was devastated when it was gone.” I kissed him gratefully.
“I sent a friend in to buy it the day after I saw it on you. It was made for you. I always hoped I’d find an occasion for you to wear it. In fact that first date I was hoping you wouldn’t have anything to wear so you could have it then; now I’m glad it’s new for
next week.” He was smiling from ear to ear. I could see a glimmer of the real Michael stealing back into his eyes.
“That’s the Michael I know and love; the stalking, romantic eejit who would spend a fortune on a dress for a woman he didn’t even know because he was sure he was going to get her. The Michael who wants something and goes for it. And the same Michael who told me I deserved a good spanking on our first date. Welcome back. I missed you last night.”
He told me he wanted to see the dress on me again and I willingly obliged. He was ogling me as I stripped out of his tee-shirt. Yup, he was back, all right. A shiver of anticipation stole through my body. I thanked God again that Claire was delayed as I slipped the dress on. It was every bit as magical as I had remembered. Michael stood back and admired. I approached him.
“No! Take it off, it’ll only get crumpled the way I’m feeling,” he grinned naughtily.
Hell, yeah! I hung it back on the hanger and he lifted me up and carried me back to his room. We started making love, gently kissing and exploring each other’s bodies, but I wanted more. I became demanding. “Harder,” I urged. He went for the wardrobe. I knew what was coming and I was elated as he produced an anal plug and jelly.
“Ah, so the lady wants to be dirty this morning, does she?” he teased. I was in no mood for delays.
“Yes, she does, the dirtier the better, now get on with it.” I rolled over onto my tummy and pushed the pillows under me. I was getting wetter by the second; I wanted it hard and fast. I wanted him to possess me everywhere. My muscles contracted as he pushed the plug in deeper and deeper. I groaned in pleasure as he thrust it in and out. He filled me with his hard cock. I was full everywhere, but I still wasn’t satisfied.
“Spank me, please,” I begged.
He hesitated, I knew it was difficult for him, but we had to get it over with; he had to see it wasn’t abuse, it was love. I felt a light smack on my bottom cheeks.
My Naughty Little Secret Page 17