by Thianna D
"Come here, and lie across my lap," Jim said, as he sat on the chair he had carried over.
Somehow Ange managed to get her feet to work, shuffling them reluctantly across the cool of the bleached oak floor. She saw he had taken his belt from his trousers and it was doubled over in his hand. She was obviously in for some more spanking, but Ange didn't protest. She would take what he deemed necessary. She positioned herself carefully, hands and feet on the floor for balance. He whipped her already burning backside twenty more times while encircling her waist with his other hand, giving her comfort and strength. Ange's tears resumed. It was harder to fight them when he was touching her kindly, even while spanking. He dropped the belt to the floor and smeared her anus with Vaseline. Ange couldn't resist shutting her cheeks together tight at his touch.
"Open up, now!" He inserted his finger into her anus, putting a large blob of jelly right inside her bottom. She could feel the gooiness of it and knew immediately he had chosen it instead of the more comfortable lube he usually used to maximize her humiliation.
"Down on the towels on your side," he instructed, lightly pushing her away from his lap.
As she lay there, Ange felt him push her knees up, rolling her into the fetal position. She was aware of the hard nozzle push against her anus. She wanted to cry out, to beg him to stop, but she had determined to accept her punishment. Her bottom tried to fight the offending intrusion. But Jim held it firmly in place and turned on the tap. The cool water started to invade her rectum and immediately she wanted to go to the bathroom. The cold sensation began to fill her and she started to feel bloated. Next came cramps, caused by the cold and the fullness. But still he kept filling her, stopping the tap until she adjusted, then restarting until every little drop was inside her. He spoke softly as the liquid drained, praising her compliance, encouraging her to take it all. As he spoke, he rubbed her swollen, inflamed bottom soothingly. Already some of the fire had subsided and Ange found she was most inexplicably aroused, even through the discomfort and humiliation of the enema. She knew her pussy was soaking, but she hoped Jim didn't.
"Can I go to the bathroom, please?" Ange begged as he removed the nozzle.
"Not yet. You have to hold it for five minutes. Then you'll begin to understand how holding things in hurts people." His voice was gentle now though and he had slipped his arm around her waist again.
"It really hurts, Jim. Please."
"I know it does, love, But I want you to remember it forever. You can move to the toilet, though." He followed her into the bathroom where he placed her hands on the wash hand basin before he spanked her again, with his hand this time, just once on each cheek. Ange hadn't been expecting it after his tenderness moments earlier. With gravity working against her, she had to clench tight to hold the liquid. She couldn't bear the degradation of releasing it accidentally. The effort of holding it made those two smacks the worst of all she had borne all evening.
"I never want to have to punish you so badly again, is that clear?" he said as he held her against the washstand. Ange noticed there was no sign of arousal about him. She knew then that he meant it. The punishment had not brought him pleasure. At last, he left her to use the bathroom and Ange could finally purge.
When finished she climbed the stairs to the master bathroom, filled the bath and lay back and closed her eyes, allowing the sensation of relief to envelope her along with the warm water. It was all over and she had survived. No, more than survived, she felt cleansed. Purified. Forgiven. And at last she could also forgive herself. Maybe there was something to this domestic discipline after all.
Chapter 11
I'm back," Jim shouted up the stairs, where he could hear Ange and the children moving around. He'd just been for a run and was looking forward to their first Thanksgiving. Life was much better, and he certainly felt he had a lot to be thankful for.
"Daddy, we're up here," Ava shouted back as he was climbing the stairs two at a time and Jim couldn't help but smile at how grown up she sounded, using exactly the words Ange would use.
"Well, don't you look very pretty," Jim praised and was rewarded by a very precise pirouette. It was time to get her some dance lessons, no mistake about it. She had grown up so much in the few months that they'd been here.
"Am I pretty, too?" Jack asked and Jim laughed.
"No, girls are pretty and boys are handsome, and yes you're a very handsome young man this morning. Are you all set to celebrate thanksgiving? And you're both going to be on your best behavior at Hank and Betty's I hope."
"Yes, Daddy." Ava promised.
"And how about you, Mammy? Are you going to be on your best behavior, too? No naughty words and be nice to Carla."
"Yes, Daddy, I pwomise," Ange agreed in her best baby voice, making the children giggle.
"I'm glad to hear it. I want to have the hottest date in all of Colorado. So, put on your prettiest dress." As they left the room, he whispered so the children wouldn't hear, "No panties. Before we go, I'm going to tan that beautiful arse, brand you as mine and remind you to watch your mouth while I'm at it. The Menthas don't appreciate hearing a woman with a foul mouth."
"Maybe not, but Carla has her priorities arse-ways, she might not like swearing, but she'd have no problem with adultery if she could get her teeth into you."
"Enough, Ange." Jim snapped. He would make damn sure Ange wasn't going to spend the day riling Carla.
"Ten minutes of Teic while Daddy and Mammy get ready," he promised as he carried Jack down the stairs. He'd had his brother send over some DVDs of the Irish language animated tractor as they had both missed it since moving stateside, even though neither of them a clue what the words actually meant. As soon as it was running, he went to shower and make good his promise to his wife. He knew she'd be jittery with excitement. Jim liked to intersperse punishments with erotic spankings as he knew Ange reacted so differently to those. They excited her beyond belief. It seemed he could leather her senseless in the name of erotica, whereas the minute punishment came into it, her pain threshold went out the window.
Putting her make up on, Ange smiled her greeting as he re-emerged from the shower, still wet and wrapped only in a towel. She looked lovely. Jim admired how she had kept her figure, unlike him. He knew he was looking better these days after his sessions in the gym, but he'd certainly let himself go for a time. He liked the thought of going out with this babe on his arm and the realization made him glow with happiness.
"I don't know how you do it, but you're even lovelier now than when we first met," Jim said wrapping her in his arms, kissing the back of Ange's head.
"And you're still full of the old charm, but thanks, anyway," she laughed.
"Open your legs."
Ange complied and he slipped his finger in under her dress. As expected, she was soaking wet.
"Dirty bitch," he teased, making her blush and smile. "Go lean over the bed and pull your dress up above your waist."
As she did, he went to the wardrobe and pulled out a belt, one Ange had a particular fondness for, a stainless steel butt plug and a tube of lube.
"Oh no, I'm not wearing that to the Menthas," Ange protested.
He didn't bother replying, he had ways of making her compliant. He knew by the time she'd felt the kiss of the belt, she'd be horny as hell and ready for anything. He started off lightly, warming her skin to a soft pink glow. Soon he heated it up considerably, spanking her hard. As her bottom burned bright red, her whole body switched from defensive and uptight to soft and open. By their own volition, her legs were now spread apart. He dropped the belt and aimed a few spanks upward on her pussy. He couldn't get any real stingers in from that angle, but it was enough to make her jump a little. His hand was saturated with her juices, by the time he was done. He showed her the evidence of her arousal, and told her to taste how turned on she was. Obediently she took his fingers in her mouth and tasted her own juices.
"Tell me what it tastes like, what it's like to taste yourself?"
"Hmm, I don't know not much really. A bit slimy, kind of like saliva. Not as icky as I'd have thought."
"Of course it's not icky, it's you. It's sexy." Jim put his fingers in his mouth now, to prove his point. He licked all her remaining juices. Then he massaged that area between her sex and her anus, gradually concentrating more on the anus. He probed a little and coaxed his finger in ever so slightly before applying lube liberally to the plug. In spite of her earlier protestations, she opened to the intrusion, just as he had known she would. Once the plug was seated, with his clean hand, he massaged her nub, rubbing and pinching slightly. He pushed off the towel, and entered her. His shaft delighted in the tightness that the plug created, it was almost like fucking her ass. With great difficulty, he restrained himself. His intention was to make her cum, but save his own pleasure for later. He liked the wait, the sensation of being filled with testosterone, knowing he could have her whenever he chose. He allowed himself to breathe again as Ange's cunt throbbed and pulsated around his cock. His relief was enormous as her body tensed and then went almost limp with satisfaction, allowing him to withdraw.
"Wear the plug for at least half an hour after we get there, but don't take it out without first getting my permission. It'll remind you to leave Carla alone. Bring a handbag so you can take it out in the bathroom. And remember, no knickers." Jim was high as he issued instructions. He considered grabbing a quick cool shower to help get rid of his erection but thought the better of it. Knowing her juices were enveloping his cock would keep him excited, besides he had showered already and it was going to take them over an hour to get there. His erection should surely have disappeared by then. He was surprised that Ange didn't argue the length of time it would be in position but she was being remarkably docile. Fuelled by his success, he issued one last warning as they reached the end of their hour long drive.
"Ange, if you give Carla a hard time, I promise, you won't sit for a week. Remember, I need this job."
Dinner was like a traditional Christmas dinner, roast turkey, ham and all the trimmings. The company was pleasant. Ange and Betty seemed to gel quite well, which pleased him. Hank was genial company at the best of times, but Jim had never seen him quite as relaxed as he was in his own home. There were two issues Jim was less comfortable with though, Hank and Betty had apparently decided to invite them as they felt the thing they had to be most thankful that year was Carla's surviving the accident and he was embarrassed by the lengths they went to in acknowledging his part of that. And even worse was Carla's effusiveness. She had managed to sit beside him while Ange was at the far side of the table beside Ava and Jack, and she was way too touchy feely for his liking. He could see Ange was watching it all, but he wasn't sure if she was amused or angry, a bit of both, he thought. After the first course, Ange asked for the bathroom and gave him a look that he knew was a request to remove the plug and he nodded his assent, desire re-entering his loins as he thought of the bedroom earlier.
Ange was the designated driver, so Jim had a couple of beers before dinner and three of glasses of wine with it, he wasn't alone though, both Hank and Carla met him drink for drink until Hank intervened as Carla poured her third wine.
"Carla, I think you've had enough, remember you're on painkillers and antidepressants," he warned sternly. Carla continued to pour, but stopped at half a glass, saving face, but not disobeying him totally.
"We've been quite worried about poor Carla," Betty explained. "She has been suffering post traumatic stress disorder and her neck has proven more trouble than we first thought. Hank would prefer if she took some time off, but she won't hear of it."
"Mom, you know I get totally bored and restless when I have nothing to do. And don't talk about me as if I wasn't here," Carla slurred; the wine and tablets now hitting her.
"Carla, show your mother more respect. She is just expressing concern for you," Hank admonished. "Pardon my daughter. She's not much of a drinker at the best of times, and I can only assume the medication is not helping," he apologized to his guests.
"Forget it," Ange said. "I had my share of depression after Jack was born, and I know the feeling. We all have our off times."
Jim was stunned by Ange's admission, and the nonchalant way she approached it. He was proud of her, and how she had diffused what could have become an unpleasant scene. The talk turned to Ireland. Jim relaxed and became less cautious than usual, turning on the charm. In truth, with the few drinks in him he began to enjoy the attention of Betty and Carla and played along, entertaining them with stories of home. They sat at the table, eating and talking until half past six. It was such a success that Jim, in his intoxicated congeniality, had insisted on extracting a promise that he and Ange could return the favor for Saint Patrick's Day. They were used to having a full house then, he persisted at any protest of inconvenience to them, and it would be a lonely affair for them if it was just the family party.
"I agree; it would be odd cooking only for the four of us. Please come?" Ange seconded his proposal enthusiastically, although Jim knew from years of watching her that she wasn't entirely enamored with it.
"That would be lovely; if you're sure it's not too much trouble. Thank you," Betty agreed.
After the meal they all adjourned to have coffee in the living room and Jack and Ava became quite cranky. Betty brought Ange upstairs to the guest room to see if they would settle for a nap. Then she and Hank made a start on the dishes and wouldn't hear of Jim's helping them. They shooed him into the living room and sent Carla with him for company. He took a seat on the sofa, and Carla sat beside him. He was talking away with her, any reserve removed by alcohol on both sides. Jim was aware of Carla moving closer and he moved over to the arm but somehow Carla seemed to end up right up close again. He was horror struck as she leaned towards him and tried to kiss him. He pulled away, jumping up off the sofa. Right at that moment, Ange walked in.
"Jack isn't settling would you mind getting his teddy from the car?" Ange asked as she walked in the door. He saw her jaw fall open as she took in the scene she was met with.
"What the hell is going on here?" Ange hissed.
Carla dashed unsteadily out the door past her, her hand over her mouth and her eyes wide in horror at the discovery.
"Ange…." he started.
"Let's just give our apologies and talk about this in the car," Ange interrupted.
Jim was surprised at how totally calm Ange seemed. He certainly felt anything, but calm. He realized should have listened to Ange a long time ago. She had seen it coming, but he had been too dense to believe her, preferring to believe Carla was just grateful that he had saved her. It was obvious Carla had way too much to drink, as anyone in their right mind wouldn't make a pass at a married man while his wife was in such close proximity. Jim wished she'd had a bit more however, so she might forget her mistake and his rejection. Automatically he began to fret on the impact it would all have on his job and his friendship with Hank.
Ange kicked into gear. She went into the kitchen and made up some tale about how distressed Jack was in the strange house, and how she had forgotten to bring his favorite teddy, which he couldn't sleep without. She had no difficulty showing appreciation for the fine spread, and the warm welcome, and repeated her hope to see them for St Patrick's Day. Jim could only admire his wife's cool head in the crisis, although he couldn't help wonder if she would let fly when they got home.
Even on the long journey back they couldn't talk about it. For starters, it had begun to snow quite heavily, so Ange needed to keep her eyes peeled to the road, and secondly, Ava was a sharp little thing and Jim knew she'd pick up what was going on so he kept his mouth shut on the topic and was grateful Ange did too. Jack fell asleep almost as soon as they were on the road, but Ava sang songs and chattered for the entire journey, two hours long courtesy of the snow. After what seemed like an eternity, they pulled up outside their house.
"I'm glad I actually saw what happened," Ange announced after the children were in bed. "I kn
ew Carla was being a bit obsessive about you and I was afraid you might be flattered enough to do something about it. At least now I know where you stand."
"Jesus, Ange. How could you think that? How could you think I would want anyone else?"
"Well, let's face it. I haven't exactly been a model wife for the last few years, have I? She comes with no baggage and definitely wants a domestic discipline relationship, which I hate."
"Do you really hate it that much?" Jim asked. He was surprised. He'd thought she was coming around to it, and he'd purposefully not been too harsh in its implementation in the hope Ange would get over her fear of being tyrannized.
"Stop changing the subject. How are you going to deal with Carla?"
"I was kind of hoping you might tell me that. You're way better at diffusing awkward situations than I am."
"Great, I walk into a room and find my husband in a clinch with another woman and then I get to solve it. You've some neck on you, Jim O'Brien."
"I was not in a clinch, I was dodging one. And you fecking know it." He was relieved to see Ange laughing.
"All right, maybe I do. But that doesn't change that it's a bit of a mess. I'd suggest that you do nothing for now, go to work as normal and see how Carla behaves with you. It was pretty obvious you were trying to escape; I think she'd have got the message, even if I hadn't come in. To tell the truth, I'm more worried about Hank."